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PASSIONIST  AcVkmIC  INSTITUTE 


5700  N.  HAROBM  AVE. 
CHICAGO,  flA  6063 1 


I 


,il}  w  jn,  tij,  55  Tfvnv  ny  m  m}  uv  nvuv  nv  n_v  nv  uv  !!_»:  w  in;  uv  uv  n  v  uv  uv  uv  uv  uv  uv 


A  NATIONAL 
^MONTHLY 


CATH©XJC 

MACAZ1NEN 


VOL.  I. 


WEST  HOBOKEN,  N.  J.    /?<j(*<y«r,    112 


^^  m  ^*ITH  tKis  issue  of  THE  SIGN,  the  Passionist  Fatkers  present  to  American 

W    I  ^^      CatKolics   a   new    monthly    magazine.      It   is   their   ambition    to   publish   a 

\    m     w       periodical  which,  both  in  physical  make-up  and   intellectual   content,   w"ill 

^"••^         be  worthy  of  the  interested  approval  of  its  actual  and  prospective  readers. 

THE  SIGN,  in  common  with  other  Catholic  publications,  purposes  to 
disseminate  truth;  to  combat  the  thousand  and  one  errors  confronting  Catholics  at 
every  turn;  to  interpret  from  a  Catholic  viewpoint  significant  current  events;  to  offset, 
in  some  measure,  the  pernicious  influences  of  the  lurid  secular  press. 

To  this  end,  it  publishes  instructive  expositions  of  the  doctrines  of  Holy  Church, 
pertinent  articles  on  present-day"  issues,  live  discussions  of  industrial,  social,  and  economic 
questions,  refreshing  and  wholesome  literary"  entertainment. 

We  feel  that  this  new  venture  must  have  the  cordial  approval  of  the  American 
Hierarchy",  w"ho,  in  setting  aside  last  March  as  Catholic  Press  Month,  convincingly" 
stressed  the  need  of  a  strong  Catholic  press  and  cogently"  appealed  to  the  Catholic 
conscience  to  support  such  a  press.  Unfortunately,  this  appeal  w"as  more  than  necessary", 
for  as  a  matter  of  strict  fact,  less  than  25%  of  Catholics  in  the  United  States  read  any" 
Catholic  periodical.  Hence,  any  publication  attempting  to  reach  the  remaining  75% 
of  present  non-readers  is  a  praiseworthy"  enterprise. 

The  distinguishing  feature  of  THE  SIGN  is  the  prominence  it  gives  the  Cross. 
Never  w"as  the  setting  forth  of  Christ  Crucified  so  essential  as  in  our  own  day  w"hen 
the  opportunities  and  means  of  pleasure  so  abound;  when  to  the  non-catholic  the  Cross 
no  longer  is  a  symbol  but  an  empty  decoration;  w"hen  ev"en  our  Catholic  people  are  all 
too  prone  to  substitute  an  easy-going  piety  for  the  stern  gospel  of  self-denial.  Where- 
fore, THE  SIGN  aims  at  holding  up  before  the  public  none  other  than  "THE  SIGN 
OF  THE   SON   OF  MAN" — the  norm  of  Catholic  thought  and  conduct. 

Bearing  in  mind  that  there  are  over  3,000  monthly  publications  in  the  United 
States,  each  loudly  declaring  its  message,  surely  no  apology  is  required  for  one  that 
shall  voice,  however  faintly,  the  appeal  of  our  Savior  Crucified. 

In  carrying  out  its  leading  purpose  THE  SIGN  becomes  the  Official  Organ 
of  the   Archconfraternity"  of  the  Sacred  Passion. 


Current   Fact   and   Comment 


& 


NEWSPAPER  LANCETS  AND  THE    PUBLIC   CONSCIENCE 


kECENTLY  a  nationally-read  columnist  took 
the  public  into  his  confidence.  He  laid  be- 
fore them  the  ethical  principle  which,  he 
would  have  us  believe,  justifies  newspaper 
editors  in  playing  the  search-light  upon  the  lives 
of  some  of  our  'best'  families.  It  is  hardly  neces- 
sary to  say  that  the  main  feature  of  these  lives  are 
lust,  divorce,  drunkenness  and  wild  extravagance. 
The  principle  which  justifies  the  detailed  story  of 
these  horrid  sins  is  that  the  knowledge  of  them  will 
be  more  effective  than  any  sermon.  In  other  words, 
the  editors  expect  that  the  people  by  being  constant- 
ly surfeited  with  the  intimate  revelations  of  dis- 
graceful and  degraded  lives  will  be  shocked  into 
the  observance  of  the  Ten  Commandments.  They 
would  furnish  us  with  a  brand-new  proverb :  "Would 
you  be  clean?  Wallow  in  filth."  Surely,  0  Judg- 
ment, thou  art  fled  to  brutish  hearts. 

That  ulcers  exist  in  the  soul  as  well  as  in  the 


body,  no  one  will  deny.  But  their  existence  is  no 
reason  for  lithographing  them  and  displaying  them 
to  public  view.  Would  that  the  same  privacy  were 
observed  in  the  treatment  of  the  moral  ulcer  as 
common  precaution  exacts  in  the  probing  of  the 
physical  ulcer.  It  would  be  something  new  in 
medical  practice  unnecessarily  to  expose  a  man  to 
certain  infection  as  a  means  of  keeping  him  healthy. 
Likewise  is  it  the  limit  of  folly  to  engulf  a  man  in 
temptation  in  the  deluded  hope  of  preserving  his 
virtue.  As  well  might  St.  Paul  have  told  his  con- 
verts to  mingle  freely  with  the  libertines  about  them. 
We  are  not  to  take  our  principles  of  morality  from 
the  venal  secular  press.  And  no  editor,  or  any 
number  of  editors,  can  improve  on  the  inspired 
wisdom  of  the  Apostle:  "All  uncleanness  or  covet- 
ousness,  let  it  not  so  much  as  be  named  among  you, 
as  becometh  saints." 


TIME  FOR  A  MOMENTOUS  DECISION 


QOW  is  the  time  for  parents  to  give  anxious 
thought  as  to  where  their  children  are  to 
take  up  or  resume  their  schooling.  No 
conscientious  Catholic  parent  can  fail  to 
consider  the  strong  arguments  in  favor  of  the 
Catholic  school  and  college.  As  a  twig  is  bent,  the 
tree  inclines.  With  what  character  and  spiritual 
equipment  will  children  complete  their  school  days 
if  through  all  those  impressionable  hours  spent  in 
the  class-room  they  hear  not  a  syllable  about  God, 
His  rights,  their  duties  to  Him,  their  soul,  their 
eternity!  What  can  be  expected  from  them  if  they 
never  learn  the  only  sure  motives  of  self-discipline 
and  straight  conduct?  The  Daily  Chronicle  of 
Chicago  says  that  a  child  in  the  public  schools  of 
that  city  will  learn  more  of  the  plaintive,  grey  grass- 
hopper  than    of    the    great    God   Who    created    it: 


pistils,  anthers,  whorls,  ovates  are  studied  while 
the  commandments  of  God  are  ignored.  Parents 
would  not  hesitate  in  this  matter  did  they  hear  the 
nerve-racked  teachers  after  a  day's  session  in  a 
metropolitan  school  commenting  on  the  growing 
insubordination  of  the  children.  In  the  largest  of 
all  our  Catholic  reform  schools  99%  of  the  boys 
have  received  their  education  in  a  non-Catholic 
school.  There  would  be  no  need  of  reform  if  children 
were  correctly  formed.  The  most  ardent  supporter 
of  the  public  school  cannot  honestly  maintain  that 
in  it  sufficient  attention  is  given,  or  can  be  given, 
to  the  moral  training  of  its  pupils.  The  Catholic 
school  peremtorily  insists  upon  the  fundamental 
principle  of  all  true  education — the  moulding  of 
character. 


"THE   GOLDEN   HOUR"    ARRIVES 


MOVEMENT  is  afoot  to  establish  the 
"Golden  Hour"  in  the  Public  Schools. 
The  promoters  seem  to  be  urged  by  genu- 
ine solicitude  for  the  betterment  of  Ameri- 
can youth.  They  claim  that  the  lack  of  training  in 
character-building  is  a  staggering  national  condition 
and  the  country's  greatest  peril.  Incidently  the 
census  is  quoted:  fifty  eight  million  citizens  attend 
no  Church.  Letters  of  commendation  of  the  plan 
from  eminent  Americans  show  that  they  sense  the 
danger.  And  there  is  the  general  admission  that 
the  public  schools  are  failing  in  their  trust,  or  rather 
that  it  is  a  delusion  to  rely  upon  a  program  of  mere 
mental  culture  to  remove  the  peril. 


The  Golden  Hour  is  proposed  as  a  remedy  for 
the  country's  greatest  peril!  A  suggested  daily 
program  includes  ethical  examples,  inspirational 
talks,  readings,  golden  texts,  interspersed  with 
music  as  an  attractive  background.  There  must  be 
no  sectarian  feature. 

It  is  largely  a  desperate  plan  and,  we  fear, 
can  have  only  ephemeral  results.  We  should  hearti- 
ly wish  it  were  otherwise  when  we  hear  public 
school  teachers  describing  the  general  insubordi- 
nation of  their  charges  and  when  we  consider  what 
is  the  material  out  of  which  the  citizenship  of  the 
country  is  being  formed.  It  must  be  disheartening 
to    the    eminent    Americans    as    they    plead    for 


THE  +SIGN 


"character- building,"  "social  ethics,"  "moral 
strength,"  etc.,  to  be  convinced  that  the  means 
suggested  are  wholly  inadequate,  are  only  a  sop 
to  their  own  solicitude.  Such  movements,  however, 
are  not  altogether  fruitless.  They  turn  the  attention 
of  so  many  more  sincere  people  to  the  one  system 
of  education  which,  untrammeled,  and  day  by  day, 


implants  in  the  soul  of  the  child  a  personal  know- 
ledge of  God,  wholesome  fear  and  filial  love  of 
Him,  and  a  corresponding  instinct  of  submission 
to  all  authority.  Nothing  less  than  this  can  fit 
American  youth  even  for  good  citizenship  with  all 
that  this  entails  of  self-restraint  and  of  service  to 
others. 


PASSIONIST  GENERAL   IN  THE   UNITED   STATES 


ON  June  12,  the  Most  Reverend  Silvius 
DiVezza,  Superior  General  of  the  Passion- 
ist  Order,  arrived  in  the  United  States.  He 
is  making  a  canonical  visitation  of  all  the 
provinces  of  the  Order.  In  doing  so  he  will  com- 
plete the  circuit  of  the  globe.    He  left  Rome  March 


Father    Jeremias    visited    here    in    1897    and    1911 
respectively. 

Father  Silvius  was  born  at  Monte  S.  Biagi, 
Italy,  Sept.  15,  1849.  He  entered  the  Order  as  a 
mere  youth,  and  was  ordained  to  the  priesthood  in 
1873.     Practically  his  whole  priestly  life  was  lived 


MOST   REV.   SILVIUS   DI   VEZZA.   C.   P. 


VERY    REV.    LEO    KIERKELS,    I 


31,  for  France  where  important  matters  claimed 
his  attention.  From  there  he  went  to  Spain,  whence 
he  sailed  for  Cuba  and  Mexico.  He  embarked  for 
this  country  at  Vera  Cruz,  and  will  remain  here  till 
the  latter  part  of  September.  In  the  meantime  he 
will  visit  the  thirteen  establishments  that  make  up 
the  two  American  provinces. 

The  Order  was  established  in  this  country  in 
1852  by  the  saintly  John  J.  O'Connor,  Bishop  of 
Pittsburgh,  Pa.  Its  growth  has  been  in  keeping 
with  the  remarkable  development  of  the  American 
Church.  Father  Silvius  is  the  third  Superior- 
General  to  have  visited  the  United  States.  His 
lamented  predecessors,   Father  Bernard  Mary  and 


in  France,  where  for  four  terms  he  held  the  pro- 
vincialship  of  the  Franco-Belgium  province.  He  is 
now  serving  his  second  term  as  General.  On  his 
departure  from  this  country  he  will  visit  Australia. 
Accompanying  Father  General,  as  secretary, 
is  the  Very  Rev.  Leo  Kierkels,  Procurator  General. 
He  is  a  native  of  Holland.  He  made  his  university 
course  in  France  and  Italy.  Previous  to  his  ordina- 
tion, he  spent  a  year  and  a  half  in  Palestine,  in 
biblical  study  and  research.  Later  he  taught  phil- 
osopy  and  theology  for  seven  years  in  the  monastery 
of  SS.  John  and  Paul,  Rome.  Father  Leo  is  a 
linguist  of  distinction.  A  young  man — he  is  not 
yet  39 — his  remarkable  versatility  promises  great 
service  to  his  Order  and  the  Church. 


Some   Personal   Recollections  of  Cardinal   Gibbons 


e 


Felix  Ward,  C.   P. 


'ULOGY  from  me  of  our  beloved  Cardi- 
nal, after  the  great  prelates  of  the 
Church  and  the  most  distinguished  men 
of  the  State  had  spoken,  would  seem 
not  in  good  taste.  But  "Some  Personal 
Recollections"  afford  me  the  prized  opportunity  of 
recording  my  esteem  and  affection  for  his  Eminence, 
and  will  prove  I  trust,  not  uninteresting  to  the  readers 
of  THE  SIGN.  I  jot  down  these  recollections  just 
as  they  occur  to  me. 

The  Cardinal  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction 
to  Archbishop  Ireland  upon  hearing  that  I  had  been 
requested  to  give  a  retreat  in  St.  Paul :  It  was  a 
motu  proprio  on  the  part  of  his  Eminence.  It 
secured  for  me  the  kindest 
welcome  from  his  Grace 
who  invited  me  to  spend 
an  evening  with  him.  The 
Cardinal  had  often  spoken 
of  the  Archbishop  in  the 
most  kindly  terms,  and 
now,  when  I  had  given 
him  the  Cardinal's  mes- 
sages, I  told  him  of  the 
esteem  in  which  his 
Eminence  held  him.  The 
great  Archbishop  looked 
pleased  and  said:  "I  am 
well  aware  of  the  affec- 
tionate and  generous  re- 
gard in  which  Cardinal 
Gibbons  has  been  willing 

to  hold  me  during  those  many  years.  His  friendship 
has  been  one  of  the  great  joys  of  my  life.  Your  cita- 
tion of  his  words  does  not  surprise  me."  The  Arch- 
bishop put  me  at  my  ease  by  his  gracious  manner 
and  I  recounted  many  things  I  had  learned  from 
the  Cardinal  in  our  walks.  Sometime  afterwards 
his  Grace  told  a  very  dear  friend  that  I  had  the 
Cardinal's  friendship  and  confidence,  and  what 
pleased  his  Grace  was  that  it  had  lasted  so  many 
years  and  was  always  so  beautiful:  "It  was  a 
privilege  to  hold  it"  he  said,  "it  was  so  fine,  so 
delicate,  so  true.  To  faun,  to  flatter,  to  cease  to  be 
true,  meant  the  loss  of  it.  Yet  it  was  not  difficult  to 
hold  it.  The  Cardinal  was  the  gentlest  of  friends; 
he  put  you  at  your  ease  and  at  your  best.  He  had 
the  faculty  of  seeing  what  was  best  in  others  and  of 
approaching  them  from  that  side.  "I  never  talk 
with  anyone  who  is  sincere,"  he  said,  "without  being 
the  better  for  it." 

Your  approval  was  grateful  to  him;  he  was  so 
simply  human,  and  it  won  your  heart  to  feel  that  he 
accepted  your  humble  friendship.  He  preached  in 
St.  Patrick's  Cathedral,  New  York,  on  the  occasion 
of  the  first  centenary  of  the  great  Archdiocese.  He 
had  outlined  his  discourse  on  our  evening's  walk. 


JT  is  a  pleasure  for  the  Passionist  Fathers 
■*  to  pay  a  deserved  tribute  to  the  memory 
of  Cardinal  Gibbons,  in  the  first  issue  of 
THE  SIGN.  We  are  fortunate  in  having 
these  personal  recollections  from  Father 
Felix  Ward,  C.  P.  whose  singular  privilege 
it  was  to  have  enjoyed  the  friendship  and 
confidence  of  his  Eminence  during  many 
years. — The  Editors. 


I  was  intensely  interested  and  knew  that  his  success 
would  greatly  depend  upon  his  feeling  well.  A 
slight  indisposition  from  which  he  suffered  now  and 
then  would  mar  his  effort.  Well,  he  was  never  in 
better  form  than  on  that  morning.  The  elite  of  the 
Church  were  there  from  many  other  lands  as  well 
as  from  our  own.  His  Eminence  never  did  better. 
We  were  all  very  happy  and  proud  of  Baltimore. 
In  the  evening  I  had  occasion  to  see  him  at  his  own 
request  with  Fr.  George,  C.  P.,  who  was  just  leaving 
for  the  General  Chapter  in  Rome.  I  told  his 
Eminence  of  the  joy  we  felt  at  his  success  that  day. 
He  was  pleased  with  the  little  tribute.  He  would 
not  dissemble  it;  he  was  too  fine  for  that;  yet  who 
would  say  that  it  detracted 
in  the  least  from  the  high 
motive  he  had  in  all  he 
did?  He  simply  remark- 
ed that  when  Cardinal, 
then  Archbishop,  Farley, 
came  to  request  him  to 
preach  that  sermon,  he 
begged  to  be  excused.  He 
was  busy  and  had  some 
timidity  in  meeting  the 
demand.  After  the  de- 
parture of  the  Archbishop, 
his  heart  smote  him  and 
he  wired  his  acceptance. 
His  success  he  ascribed 
"to  a  little  act  of  kindness 
for  a  friend." 
No  wonder  that  one's  esteem  and  affection 
for  his  Eminence  grew  apace.  His  friendship  was 
like  an  inspiration  from  heaven;  a  virture  went  out 
from  him;  it  acted  like  grace;  it  led  to  his  own 
ideals;  it  was  a  pearl  of  great  price;  it  was  worth 
any  sacrifice.  No  wonder  the  priests  of  his  own 
household  were  so  like  him  and  so  devoted  to 
him.  Nay,  the  long  line  of  priests  who  felt  the 
gentle  and  holy  influence  of  his  presence  while 
in  the  seminary,  "his  own  St.  Mary's,"  bore  a 
marvelous  likeness  to  him  when  they  knelt  before 
him  to  receive  the  character  of  the  holy  priest- 
hood. 

VERY  simple  was  the  start  of  our  friendship. 
Fr.  Fidelis  Kent  Stone  accompanied  me 
when  I  went  to  ask  for  the  faculties  of 
the  diocese.  Fr.  Fidelis  said:  "Your 
Eminence,  I  know  that  you  and  Fr.  Felix  will  be 
friends."  Some  time  afterwards  I  assisted  the 
Cardinal  at  the  ceremony  of  confirmation  outside 
the  city  and  accompanied  him  to  the  train.  Our 
friendship  dated  from  that  evening.  After  this 
came  the  request  to  accompany  him  on  the  evening 
walk. 


THE  T*  SIGN 


Soon  I  learned  that  the  Cardinal  had  a  rule  of 
life  neither  too  elastic  nor  too  rigid,  and  this  rule  he 
never  surrendered  though  at  times  interrupted  by 
the  demands  of  courtesy  and  simple  charity.  Every 
duty  had  a  fixed  time  in  the  order  of  the  day.  This 
rule  gave  an  economic  distribution  of  time  and  acted 
as  the  guardian  of  peace  and  tranquility.  He  spent 
■  an  hour  be- 


>  ;; 

F*^5! 

kji 

^^ 

fore  Mass 
reading  the 
New  Tes- 
tament, or 
simply 
meditating 
on  our 
Lord's  life. 
He  was  a 
man  of 
prayer.  He 
once  said 
to  me: 
"With  ever 
increasing 
demands  on 
me,  I  could 
never  say  I 
hadn't  time 
to  pray." 
He  never 
missed  his 
visit  to  the 
Blessed 
Sacrament 
in  the  even- 
i  n  g  .  "A 
visit  to  our 
Lord  in  the 
Blessed 
Sacra- 
ment," he 
said,  "dis- 
sipates the 
w  o  r  d  1  y 
mist  that 
may  have 
enveloped 
you  and 
brings  you 
nearer  t  o 
the  God  of 
light  and 
diffuses   a- 

round  you  a  spirit  of  heavenly  tranquility."  He 
timed  himself  nicely  and  made  this  visit  after  the 
walk.  Often  I  knelt  behind  him  in  the  "Great 
Presence"  as  the  shadows  fell  on  the  old  historic 
Cathedral,  and  the  "spirit  of  heavenly  peace  and 
tranquility"  was  diffused  around  him,  and  I  felt 
its  influence  as  I  wended  my  way  home  with  his 
blessing.  The  Rosary  was  precious  to  him  It 
was   his   daily  tribute   to   our   Blessed   Lady;    and 


when  duty  or  courtesy  took  him  out  in  the  evening 
he  said  it  on  the  way.  It  was  often  my  privilege 
to  join  him  in  this  devotion  while  walking  or  in  the 
carriage.  "The  steady  stream  of  the  milk  of  human 
kindness  flows"  he  said,  "from  the  heart  at  peace 
with  God  and  man."  It  was  his  own  case,  and  he 
left  the  Divine   Presence  with  a  serene  heart.     It 

was  the 
secret  of 
his  gentle- 
ness and 
strength. 

Though 
pietyis  pro- 
fitable for 
all  things, 
ace  ording 
to  the  A- 
postle, 
bodily  ex- 
ercise i  s 
useful.  His 
day  was 
never  com- 
plete with- 
o  u  t  exer- 
cise and 
h  i  s  Emi- 
n  e  n  c   e 


loved  h  i  s 
walk.  The 
cares  of 
the  day 
were  for- 
gotten i  n 
this  exhila- 
rating ex- 
ercise and 
it  kept  him 
in  good 
health. 
Those 
pleas  ant 
hours  with 
him  on  this 
walk!  Ire- 
call  them 
now  as  a- 
mongst  the 
most  preci- 
ous of  my 
life.  It  was 
an  education  in  itself: — the  reminiscences,  personal, 
storied,  historical,  the  questions  affecting  Church 
and  State;  the  problems,  social,  political,  economic; 
his  hopes  and  fears  for  the  country  he  loved  so  well ; 
— all  were  told  and  discussed.  I  was  always  glad 
to  be  "held  up"  for  that  walk.  His  Eminence  walk- 
ed steadily  for  an  hour  at  a  nice  gait,  and  he  was 
always  pleased  to  get  your  views  on  the  questions 
of  the  day. 


AMES    I'AKDIXAL    C.IRHnXS 


THE  f  SIGN 


The  priests  of  his  own  household  sought  to 
keep  needless  trouble  from  him  and  so  prolong  his 
days.  This  was  no  easy  task,  his  Eminence  was  so 
democratic  and  accessible.  I  followed  the  same 
rule.  On  missionary  and  other  duties,  up  and  down 
the  country,  I  was  alert  to  catch  up  every  note  of 
hope  and  safety  and  progress  in  Church  and  State 
and  report  it  to  him.  The  welfare  of  the  Church 
was  a  joy  to  him  as  it  not  only  advanced  the  King- 
dom of  God  but  added  greater  security  to  the 
country.  How  beautiful  are  his  words  in  the 
"Retrospect  of  Fifty  Years":  "My  countrymen  and 
my  fellow-Catholics  will  forgive  me  if  I  seem  to 
yearn  over  this  Church  and  this  people ;  but  I  do  so 
because  I  believe  both  the  American  Church  and 
the  American  people  to  be  precious  in  the  sight  of 
God  and  designed,  each  one  in  its  proper  sphere, 
for  a  glorious  future."  They  are  an  echo  of  his 
earlier  words  in  Rome  when  he  was  created  Cardinal 
in  1887:  "I  belong  to  the  country  where  the  civil 
government  holds  over  us  the  aegis  of  its  protection 
without  interfering  with  us  in  the  legitimate  exercise 
of  our  mission  as  ministers  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 
Our  country  has  liberty  without  license  and  authority 
without  despotism.  The  men  who  would  endeavor 
to  undermine  the  laws  and  institutions  of  this 
country  deserve  the  fate  of  those  who  laid  profane 
hands  on  the  Ark." 

Some  years  ago  on  returning  from  Rome  I 
recounted  to  the  Cardinal  a  remark  made  by  another 
illustrious  member  of  the  Sacred  College  in  Rome. 
The  Cardinals  in  Curia  come  to  the  Passionist  Re- 
treat of  Sts.  John  and  Paul,  sometimes  for  confes- 
sion, and  sometimes  to  walk  in  the  gardens  with 
their  friends  among  the  Fathers.  They  like  to  meet 
the  "American  Consultor"  and  chat  with  him.  They 
are  always  interested  in  America.  Fr.  Thomas 
O'Connor,  at  this  time  represented  the  Americans 
in  the  General  Council.  On  hearing  from  him  an 
account  of  the  Church  in  America  the  prelate  ob- 
served :  "In  thirty  years  the  Church  in  America  has 
made  greater  progress  than  she  has  in  three  centu- 
ries in  the  so-called  Catholic  countries."  On  hear- 
ing this  the  Cardinal  said:  "The  Church  is  free  in 
our  country  to  live  her  normal  life  and  this  accounts 
for  her  progress."  The  calumny  that  "a  good 
Catholic  cannot  be  a  good  American"  is  dead.  The 
Cardinal  killed  it.  A  normal  man  would  be  ashamed 
to  reiterate  it  today. 

CARDINAL  GIBBONS  had  the  simplicity 
of  greatness,  yet  charming  natural  dignity, 
without  a  tinge  of  "effect."  It  was  simply 
natural  to  him.  In  sereneness  of  heart 
and  courtesy  of  manners,  he  was  like  St.  Francis  de 
Sales  who  says:  "Courtesy  is  the  spontaneous  ex- 
pression by  word  and  act  of  genuine  kindness  of 
heart.  Affability  and  good  breeding  are  indispensa- 
ble for  a  clergyman.  The  want  of  them  is  apt  to 
impair,  if  it  does  not  neutralize,  his  usefulness." 
Hence  he  looked  for  gentle  refinement  and  courtesy 


in  the  clergy.  "The  precious  gems  of  domestic 
charity,"  he  said,  "hang  like  pearls  on  slender 
threads,  and  these  threads  are  common  civility  and 
gentle  manners.  Charity  cannot  long  abide  without 
them."  In  twenty-eight  years  of  closeness  to  him, 
I  never  detected  in  his  Eminence  the  absence  of  nice 
composure  even  under  aggravation.  His  gentle 
courtesy  and  forbearance  never  failed  him.  He 
combined  gentleness  and  strength.  So  innate  was 
his  gentle  urbanity,  that  those  nearest  to  him,  the 
priests  of  his  own  household,  and  his  friends,  with 
whom  he  held  the  most  familiar  intercourse,  seemed 
singled  out  for  its  delicacy. 

He  requested  me  to  accompany  him  to  Lake 
Mohank  where  he  was  to  address  the  Inter- 
national Peace  Congress.  We  were  to  stop  with  the 
Fathers  at  West  Hoboken  en  route.  We  arrived 
there  early  in  the  evening  and  at  once  the  Cardinal 
told  me  to  go  to  see  my  father  in  Brooklyn,  as  I 
might  not  have  time  to  do  so  on  our  return  trip; 
and  when  death  entered  the  home,  his  Eminence 
sent  a  kindly  message  and  counselled  us  as  if  we 
were  his  own.    Who  would  not  love  him? 

At  the  opening  of  the  Congress  at  Lake  Mohank 
the  Cardinal  offered  the  prayer.  Just  before  leaving 
his  rooms  at  the  hotel  for  the  hall  down  stairs  I  said: 
"Your  Eminence,  won't  you  wear  your  robes  ?  These 
people  have  read  of  the  great  Cardinals  of  history; 
they  have  seen  the  'stage-Cardinal'  but  never  a  real 
Prince  of  the  Church."  He  answered:  "Father,  if 
you  think  it  well  I  will  do  so."  He  entered  the  hall 
wearing  his  robes  and  the  assembly  arose  to  receive 
him.  Next  day  his  address  was  on  the  program. 
His  gentle  manner  and  his  modesty  won  all  hearts. 
His  address  was  surely  the  best  at  that  meeting  and 
there  were  very  distinguished  men  amongst  the 
speakers.  At  the  close  of  the  morning  session  an 
impromptu  reception  was  held  for  his  Eminence. 
All  crowded  to  the  stage  to  be  presented  to  him 
and  express  their  appreciation  of  his  address,  and 
I  was  charged  by  many  of  the  ladies  present  to  take 
the  greatest  care  of  the  Cardinal's  health,  he  seemed 
so  frail.  The  Episcopal  Bishop  of  Massachusetts 
was  present,  a  very  large  man  of  the  English  type, 
but  poor  Dr.  Lawrence  elicited  very  little  sympathy 
on  the  score  of  health.  He  conceived  the  greatest 
friendship  for  the  Cardinal,  and  we  found  him  a 
very  nice  gentleman. 

At  home  in  Baltimore  we  resumed  our  walks. 
One  evening  we  stopped  before  an  humble  dwelling 
and  entered.  Death  had  been  a  visitant  there,  and 
the  Cardinal  came  to  offer  his  condolence  to  the 
family  and  a  prayer  for  the  dear  one  departed.  His 
visit  brought  peace  and  comfort  to  the  bereaved 
family.  I  recall  another  instance  of  his  gentle 
charity.  It  was  a  cold  evening  in  winter  and 
we  walked  rapidly.  The  Cardinal  stopped  and  said : 
"Father,  we  will  enter  here  for  a  moment."  It  was 
an  elegant  home.  This  time  his  Eminence  called 
to  see  a  venerable  gentleman,  who  had  come  into 
Baltimore  to  visit  his  friends.     He  fell  on  the  ice 


THE  +  SIGN 


and  injured  himself  severely  and  was  now  confined 
to  bed  in  his  friend's  home.  The  injured  man  was 
the  former  Episcopal  bishop  of  Maryland,  but  now 
retired.  They  had  met  often,  the  Cardinal  and 
bishop,  in  their  rounds  of  duty  and  were  friends. 
As  the  Cardinal  entered  the  room,  the  old  man 
reached  out  his  hands  in  welcome,  and  the  tears 
came  to  his  eyes  as  he  said:  "Whence  is  this  to  me 
that  my  Lord  Cardinal  should  come  to  visit  me?" 
The  scene  was  touchingly  beautiful. 

Sometimes  the  poor  on  the  street  would  ask 
his  aid.  This  he  never  refused,  though  he  knew 
there  were  cases  that  did  not  deserve  much  pity. 
He  once  said :  "Father,  I  would  prefer  to  be  deceived 
ninty-nine  times  than  refuse  one  worthy  person  in 
need." 

On  his  way  home  from  the  Conclave  that 
elected  Pius  X,  the  Cardinal  wrote  me  from  Paris 
to  meet  him  at  the  pier  in  Hoboken.  Delegations 
of  the  clergy  and  laity  had  come  from  Baltimore 
to  meet  his  Eminence.  After  the  addresses  of  wel- 
come and  the  reception  in  the  saloon  of  the  great 
liner,  the  Cardinal  turned  to  me  on  the  gang  plank 
as  we  were  stepping  ashore  and  said :  "Father,  I 
am  coming  up  to  spend  the  day  with  the  Fathers  at 
the  Monastery."  I  sent  word  ahead  to  Fr.  Stephen 
Kealy,  the  Provincial,  and  the  clergy  took  their 
places  in  the  carriages.  His  Secretary,  Fr.  Gavan, 
Mgr.  Fletcher  and  I  were  with  the  Cardinal.  As 
we  drove  around  the  hills  on  that  lovely  morning  in 
Autumn,  the  glow  of  health  and  happiness  was  on 
that  gentle  face,  while  he  recounted  the  incidents 
of  the  Conclave.  The  only  thing  about  the  Cardinal 
we  didn't  fancy  was  the  little  low  French  hat  he 
wore.  It  didn't  become  him  at  all  and  we  were 
amused.  The  Cardinal  saw  it  and  said:  "But 
gentlemen  it's  the  only  hat  I  have."  The  day  was 
pleasantly  spent  with  the  Fathers  at  the  Monastery. 
The  representatives  of  the  press  came  with  their 
cameras.  The  Cardinal  received  them  all  very 
graciously  and  the  evening  papers  of  New  York 
were  crowded  with  accounts  of  his  mission  aboard. 

In  the  evening  we  drove  over  to  Major  Keiley's 
in  Brooklyn  as  the  Cardinal  wished  to  visit  the 
family  who  were  his  devoted  friends.  We  crossed 
the  ferries  and  were  driving  up  Fulton  Street  in 
Brooklyn.  We  passed  a  large  hat  store  and  it 
occurred  to  me  that  this  was  a  chance  to  get  rid  of 
the  French  hat.  I  asked  his  Eminence  to  step  out 
for  a  moment  and  we  entered  the  store.  The  pro- 
prietor at  once  recognized  the  Cardinal  and  he 
brought  a  chair  and  would  attend  to  us  himself.  In 
a  moment  the  Cardinal's  little  red  cap  was  recog- 
nized from  the  street.  A  crowd  gathered  and  grew. 
Traffic  was  held  up.  The  police  hurried  to  the 
scene.  The  way  was  cleared  and  business  resumed. 
Then  two  of  New  York's  "Finest"  entered  the  store 
and  knelt  down  to  receive  the  Cardinal's  blessing 
and  kissed  his  ring.  It  was  the  triumph  of  their 
careers  on  the  force.  "What  a  privilege,  and  his 
Eminence  just  from  the  Conclave,"  they  said.    The 


Cardinal  now  wore  an  elegant  silk  hat  suitable  for 
an  elderly  gentleman  and  looked  himself  again. 
The  clergy  complimented  him  and  Mgr.  Fletcher 
said:  "Father  Felix,  this  time  you  have  given  his 
Eminence  'The  Cardinal's  Hat.'  " 


© 


UT  what  was  the  secret  of  the  Cardinal's 
life,  the  secret  that  won  the  hearts  of  men  ? 
One  distinguished  priest  said:  "His  pru- 
dence was  genius  and  this  was  the  secret." 
Another  said:  "His  tact  was  genius  and  this  is  the 
secret."  One  great  prelate  said:  "The  secret  of  the 
Cardinal's  life  was  his  simple  piety;"  while  another 
declared:  "It  was  his  intense  consciousness  of  his 
divine  calling  as  a  priest."  This  consciousness 
accounts  for  his  simple  piety;  and  it  may  be  said, 
it  was  his  priesthood.  For  sixty  years  he  bore  its 
sacred  character  with  the  same  lovely  innocency, 
the  same  high  ideals  and  the  same  zeal  for  souls  as 
on  the  morning  of  his  ordination,  but  ever  mellowing 
with  wisdom  and  age  and  grace.  His  priesthood 
was  peerless,  beautiful,  precious  to  him  beyond  all 
things  else.  He  was  preeminently  the  "Ambassador 
of  Christ"  as  portrayed  in  his  own  writings. 

The  Baltimore  Sun  of  April  2,  said:  "His 
Christ-like  spirit  won  the  hearts  of  all  to  him  and 
was  the  secret  of  his  influence;"  "he  strove  to  be  like 
his  Master;"  "he  simply  lived  the  life  of  Christ." 
The  Sun  spoke  for  the  people  of  Baltimore  and 
they  knew  the  Cardinal's  "secret."  His  ideal  of  the 
priesthood  seemed  ever  present  to  him;  it  was  part 
of  his  life;  he  simply  lived  it,  but  with  a  grace  and 
beauty  that  precluded  even  the  suggestion  of 
"effect."  It  was  like  a  delicate  essence  of  which  he 
was  unconscious,  but  which  diffused  sweetness  about 
him.    We  all  felt  it. 

I  recall  the  place  and  surroundings  as  he  stop- 
ped on  our  walk.  He  was  intense  at  the  moment: 
"It  would  be  a  crime,"  he  said,  "for  the  priest  to 
fall  below  the  estimate  of  the  faithful  and  betray 
their  confidence.  He  enjoys  their  esteem  and  ad- 
miration. Their  intuitions  come  from  the  instinct 
of  Faith.  He  'the  dispenser  of  the  mysteries  of 
God',  the  priest  must  be  as  pure  as  though  he  stood 
in  Heaven  itself  in  the  midst  of  the  heavenly 
powers."  Unconsciously  the  Cardinal  for  a  moment 
drew  back  the  veil  and  revealed  his  own  priestly 
life.  St.  Francis  de  Sales  was  his  model  and  he 
loved  the  ideals  of  St.  John  Chrysostom.  Life  on 
earth,  they  said,  like  that  which  the  Angels  and 
Blessed  Spirits  lead  in  heaven  "renders  souls  as 
fair  as  lilies  and  as  pure  as  the  sun."  Excessive 
rigor  and  pernicious  laxity  the  Cardinal  disliked. 
He  made  our  Lord's  yoke  sweet  and  His  burden 
light  for  the  faithful  and  they  loved  to  hear  him. 
The  word  of  life  fell  so  sweetly  from  his  lips  that 
he  won  their  hearts  to  God.  They  loved  to  receive 
his  blessing  and  to  feel  the  inspiration  of  his  gentle 
and  holy  presence.  The  clergy  often  invited  me 
to  assist  his  Eminence  at  Confirmation  and  other 
functions;  and  it  was  delightful  to  see  the  radiant 


THE  +  SIGN 


faces  and  wrapped  attention  of  the  people  as  he 
addressed  them.  Naturally  the  little  children  clung 
to  him.  He  was  their  friend  and  they  clustered 
round  him  as  they  did  around  our  Blessed  Lord 
Himself.  He  was  indeed  the  good  shepherd.  I 
once  said  to  him :  "Your  Eminence,  I  have  heard  you 
often;  you  never  compromise  the  truth  and  yet  you 
win  non-Catholics  to  it."  "It  is  the  best  way  to 
reach  them,"  he  answered.  "St.  Francis  de  Sales 
simply  set  forth  the  doctrines  of  the  faith  without 
controversy  and  he  decares  that  the  preacher  who 
does  so  with  love,  preaches  sufficiently  against 
heresy.  Our  people  are  fond  of  hearing  about  re- 
ligion and  we  should  treat  them  with  courtesy  and 
benevolence  and  abandon  controversy  if  charity  is 
likely  to  be  offended  by  it." 

He  had  won  the  attention  of  the  country  and 
he  presented  the  Church  to  the  American  people, 
not  as  she  is  misrepresented  by  traditional  bias, 
but  as  she  is,  the  Spouse  of  Christ  without  spot  or 
wrinkle  but  holy  and  unblemished;  and  he  lived  to 
see  the  most  pronounced  opponents  of  the  ancient 
Faith  her  staunchest  defenders.  It  wasn't  his 
"reformation"  of  the  Church,  but  his  "presentation" 
of  the  Church,  that  won  them  to  her.  He  always 
claimed  that  those  who  are  out  of  her  fold  are  so 
without  any  fault  of  theirs  and  their  upright  and 
honest  hearts  when  they  seek  the  truth  win  the 
grace  of  faith  for  them.  "The  people  of  our  country 
are  not  hostile  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Church;  but 
to  what  her  opponents  represent  as  her  doctrines." 

Though  he  loved  the  people,  he  would  never 
sacrifice  principle  to  be  popular.  His  stand  on 
every  great  issue  affecting  the  welfare  of  the  country 
is  well  known.  He  stood  for  the  Constitution  and 
"sensed"  danger  to  it.  Any  tampering  with  it  by 
faddists  was  a  menace  to  the  country  and  he  dis- 
liked it.  "Let  no  profane  hand  touch  it,"  he  said, 
"it  will  secure  the  permanence  of  our  institutions." 
On  this  point  he  stood  with  Lincoln.  On  the  ques- 
tion of  amending  the  Constitution,  the  grand  old 
President  said:  "I  think  we  had  better  let  it  alone. 
No  slight  occasion  should  tempt  us  to  touch  it; 
better  not  take  the  first  step  which  may  lead  to  the 
habit  of  altering  it;  better  rather  habituate  ourselves 
to  think  of  it  as  unalterable.  New  provisions  would 
introduce  new  difficulties  and  thus  create  and  in- 
crease appetite  for  further  change.  No,  sir!  Let 
it  stand  as  it  is.  New  hands  have  never  touched  it. 
The  men  who  made  it  have  done  their  work  and 
have  passed  away.  Who  shall  improve  on  what 
they  did?"  Lincoln  would  stand  no  tampering  with 
the  Constitution  by  faddists  and  the  Cardinal  was 
like  him.  He  did  not  agree  with  the  people  who 
sought  to  "reform"  the  country  by  amending  the 
constitution.  He  was  opposed  to  the  "eighteenth 
amendment."  I  remember  well  the  occasion  on 
which  he  said  it  would  be  "the  first  wedge"  to  under- 
mine it.  He  said  it  could  never  be  enforced;  it 
would  lead  to  evasion,  hypocrisy  and  contempt  for 
the   principle   of   authority.     This   was   before   the 


Amendment  became  law.  He  had  always  stood 
for  temperance  and  the  correction  of  abuses  and 
declared  that  the  liquor  traffic  should  be  regulated. 
But  like  Lincoln  he  was  opposed  to  prohibition  and 
its  methods. 

Still  his  faith  in  the  future  of  the  country  and 
the  fine  sense  of  the  American  people  never  wavered. 
On  his  last  birthday  when  the  disturbed  state  of  the 
pubic  mind  was  referred  to  and  he  was  asked: 
"What  in  the  present  emergency  are  the  duties 
devolving  upon  the  American  citizen  ?"  he  answered : 
"I  would  say  the  temporal  salvation  of  the  American 
people  and  the  endurance  of  our  government  in 
every  emergency  are  secured,  under  God,  by  the  due 
enforcement  and  the  faithful  observance  of  the 
Constitution  and  laws  of  the  country  as  long  as  they 
remain  on  the  statute  books.  When  the  citizens 
of  the  United  States  find  from  experience  these  laws 
to  be  vicious  or  unpractical,  they  will  not  hesitate 
to  modify  or  repeal  them,  because  the  people  are 
not  made  for  the  laws,  but  the  laws  are  made  for 
the  people."  The  professional  reformer  feared  his 
wisdom  and  his  keenness,  while  the  people  trusted 
him  and  wanted  his  views  on  all  great  social  pro- 
blems affecting  the  welfare  of  the  country. 

OFTEN  I  had  occasion  to  observe  his  fine 
tact  in  eliciting  the  views  of  others  on  these 
subjects  while  formulating  his  own.  He 
received  men  from  every  part  of  the 
country  with  the  greatest  civility  and  they  felt 
honored  in  giving  him  their  views.  These  he  weigh- 
ed in  the  light  of  Christian  ethics  and  the  enduring 
welfare  of  the  country.  His  wisdom  and  patriotism 
were  recognized  by  all.  Mr.  Taft  spoke  for  them 
in  his  tribute :  "The  Cardinal  was  a  man  of  most 
kindly  heart  and  broad  vision,  of  statesman-like 
views  on  great  questions  and  with  indomitable 
courage  in  expressing  them.  He  represented  the 
highest  moral  aspirations  of  the  community  and  all 
classes  of  good  people,  without  regard  to  creed, 
were  grateful  to  him  for  his  constant  effort  to  lift 
its  members  out  of  sordid  ambitions  and  pursuits 
and  to  aim  at  higher  things.  As  a  non-Catholic  I 
am  glad  to  bear  witness  to  the  power  for  good  which 
Cardinal  Gibbons  exercised.  He  was  an  able 
churchman  and  patriotic  citizen."  On  hearing  of 
the  death  of  the  Cardinal,  President  Harding  sent 
the  following  message  to  Bishop  Corrigan:  "In 
common  with  all  our  people,  I  mourn  the  death  of 
Cardinal  Gibbons.  His  long  and  notable  service 
to  the  country  and  to  the  church  makes  us  all  his 
debtors.  He  was  ever  ready  to  lend  his  encourage- 
ment to  any  movement  for  the  betterment  of  his 
fellowmen.  He  was  the  very  finest  type  of  citizen 
and  churchman.  It  was  my  good  fortune  to  know 
him  personally  and  I  held  him  in  highest  esteem  and 
veneration.  His  death  is  a  distinct  loss  to  the 
country,  but  it  brings  to  fuller  appreciation  a  great 
and  admirable  life." 


THE  +SIGN 


When  trouble  came  to  the  Catholic  University 
in  its  great  financial  loss,  he  was  in  retreat  with  his 
devoted  clergy.  It  was  a  staggering  blow  and  all 
feared  its  effect  on  the  Cardinal's  health.  I  arrived 
in  Baltimore  on  Friday  evening  and  called  to  see 
him  on  Saturday  morning.  He  had  just  returned 
from  the  seminary  at  the  close  of  the  retreat.  As  I 
entered  his  room  he  reached  his  hands  out  to  wel- 
come me  and  said:  "Father,  you  will  be  my  friend, 
won't  you?"  It  pained  me  to  see  his  Eminence  in 
distress  and  I  replied:  "Your  Eminence,  it  is  the 
privilege  of  my  life  to  be  your  friend."  Then  sud- 
denly he  rang  the  bell  and  the  porter  answered. 
The  Cardinal  directed  him  to  bring  back  the  mail 
he  had  just  given  him  for  posting.  He  took  from  it 
a  letter  he  had  written  me  with  the  request  to  come 
to  see  him,  and  gave  it  to  me.  I  was  Provincial  at 
the  time  and  I  pledged  the  resources  of  the  Passion- 
ist  Fathers  to  aid  the  University.  His  Eminence 
then  requested  me  to  go  to  Pittsburgh  to  see  good 
Bishop  Phelan  and  his  coadjutor,  Bishop  Canevin, 
and  other  gentlemen  whom  he  had  met  at  the  Pas- 
sionist  Fathers  Golden  Jubilee,  in  the  interest  of 
the  University.  All  came  to  the  Cardinal's  rescue. 
His  friends  everywhere  answered  nobly.  They  not 
only  saved  the  University,  but  the  Cardinal's  health. 

The  Cardinal's  first  episcopal  act  after  his 
consecration  was  to  bless  and  open  St.  Joseph's 
Monastery  in  Baltimore,  on  Sept.  13,  1868.  After 
fifty  years  in  the  Episcopate,  his  Emenience  was 
present  at  the  Golden  Jubilee  of  the  Monastery  on 
Sept.  15,  1918.  His  great  kindness  to  the  Fathers 
during  his  long  career  will  be  told  in  The  Passionists 
in  America,  now  in  preparation  for  the  press.  Just 
one  incident  here. 

He  was  invited  to  the  Golden' Jubilee  of  the 
Order  in  America,  held  in  Pittsburgh,  1902.  He  had 
never  refused  a  request  from  the  Fathers  but  now 
he  pleaded  pressure  of  work  and  begged  to  be 
excused.  There  were  other  requests  in  the  way 
and  to  these  he  had  been  committed.  The  Rector 
and  the  people  of  Pittsburgh  looked  for  his  coming 
and  his  presence  would  crown  that  celebration. 
They  appealed  to  Fr.  Stephen  Kealy,  our  Provincial, 
to  see  if  he  could  not  bring  the  Cardinal  to  Pitts- 
burgh. Fr.  Stephen  requested  me  to  go  to  Baltimore 
and  explain  the  situation  to  his  Eminence.  I  told 
the  Cardinal  that  we  would  ask  him  just  to  preside 
at  the  grand  function  on  the  first  day,  that  Arch- 
bishop Ryan  would  sing  the  Mass  and  Fr.  Fidleis 
would  preach  the  formal  sermon.  His  Eminence 
said:  "Fr.  Felix,  I  don't  want  to  refuse  you."  Then 
he  walked  back  and  forth  across  his  room,  as  if  in 
thought.  Suddenly  he  stopped  and  said:  "I  have 
just  mailed  a  letter  to  Bishop  Donahue  promising 
to  be  with  him  on  Dec.  10.  If  I  could  interrupt  that 
letter  and  ask  him  to  postpone  his  celebration  till 
after  yours,  I  could  make  both  on  one  trip.  Could 
you  go  to  Wheeling?"  "Yes,  your  Eminence"  I 
answered.  "Can  you  go  tonight?"  Again  I  answer- 
ed in  the  affirmative.    "Then  go  with  God's  blessing 


and  arrange  it  with  the  bishop."  I  left  that  night  for 
Wheeling  and  arrived  there  as  soon  as  the  Cardinal's 
letter.  The  Bishop  readily  agreed  to  the  Cardinal's 
proposal.  I  reported  to  his  Eminence  and  all  was 
arranged  for  the  Golden  Jubilee.  Never  was  the 
Cardinal  received  more  cordially  anywhere  than  in 
Pittsburgh  by  all  the  people. 

nE  loved  his  priests  and  I  could  repeat  many 
a  delicate  tribute  he  paid  them  individual- 
ly as  their  names  came  up  in  our  walks, 
but  I  must  refrain.  He  loved  to  see  them 
honored.  "God  sanctions  the  reverence  paid  his 
priests,"  he  said,  "not  to  gratify  personal  vanity, 
but  to  render  their  ministry  more  fruitful  and  effec- 
tive, for  the  word  of  God  acquires  additional  lustre 
and  persuasive  force  when  it  is  proclaimed  by  men 
who  are  honored  with  public  esteem  and  veneration." 
To  the  clergy  he  dedicated  "The  Ambassador 
of  Christ."  In  it  we  have  the  experience  and 
wisdom  of  his  years.  The  lessons  that  he  learned 
are  set  forth  with  a  modesty  and  gentle  charm  that 
win  us.  Its  illustrations  are  delightful;  its  facts 
are  the  best  from  his  readings  and  personal  inter- 
course with  the  leading  men  of  the  nation  and  the 
illustrious  prelates  and  priests  with  whom  he  lived 
or  came  in  contact  during  his  long  career.  There 
is  nothing  finer  in  this  line  of  literature  in  our 
language.  The  saintly  gentle  presence  has  passed 
away.  We  shall  see  him  no  more,  nor  hear  him 
again,  nor  feel  the  virtue  that  went  out  from  him. 
But  he  said  himself  :  "We  are  drawn  nearer  to  great 
and  good  men  and  we  know  them  better  in  reading 
their  thoughts  than  in  seeing  their  portraits.  Their 
portraits  are  the  work  of  another;  their  thoughts 
are  the  photograph  of  their  own  mind.  The  por- 
trait fades  with  time;  but  the  words  of  the  author 
are  as  fresh  as  when  first  spoken."  "Our  beloved 
Cardinal"  still  speaks  to  us  in  "The  Ambassador 
of  Christ." 

Once  on  our  walk  his  Eminence  referred  to  the 
sad  state  of  men  without  faith  when  the  end  of 
this  life  approaches.  Here  I  quoted  the  words  of 
Cardinal  Newman:  "Either  the  Catholic  Religion 
is  verily  the  coming  of  the  unseen  world  into  this, 
or  there  is  nothing  positive,  nothing  dogmatic,  noth- 
ing real  in  any  of  our  notions  as  to  whence  we  come 
or  whither  we  go."  The  Cardinal  added:  "There 
would  be  nothing  for  us  but  black  dispair,  if  the 
Church  is  not  divine." 

I  saw  his  Eminence  shortly  before  the  end  and 
he  told  me  he  would  not  recover  and  then  added : 
"God's  Will  be  done."  He  was  willing  to  live,  but 
resigned  to  die.  He  declared  that  our  holy  Faith 
sustained  and  consoled  him  in  the  supreme  trial. 
It  was  "The  Faith  of  our  Fathers,"  the  faith  of  the 
Saints,  the  faith  delivered  to  the  Holy  Apostles,  the 
faith  of  the  one,  holy,  catholic,  and  apostolit 
Church  and  in  this  faith  he  passed  from  earth  to 
Heaven. 


The   White   Rose  of  Lucca 

Tke  Stor?   of  Gemma  Galgani 

MATTHEW   KUEBEL 
1 — Birth    and    Childhood 


XT  has  always  Deen  the  fashion  of  un- 
believers to  stigmatize  ss  imaginary 
tales  the  authentic  records  of  those 
saints  who  have  given  extraordinary 
manifestations  of  the  workings  of  God's 
grace.  The  bold  assumption  that  such  things  can- 
not happen  is  an  easy  way  for  the  skeptic  to  relieve 
himself  of  the  necessity  of  proving  that  they  do 
not  happen  today.  The  Catholic,  of  course,  can 
have  no  sympathy  with  this  attitude  of  the  skeptic 
But  it  would  be  a  matter  of  surprise  if  many  were 
not  led,  unconsciously  it  may  be,  to  think  that  God 
no  longer  sees  fit  to  bestow  upon  a  few  favored 
souls  such  miraculous  favors  as  are  recorded  of  so 
many  saints  of  former  times.  Besides  the  spirit  of 
the  age,  being  one  of  absorbing  pre-occupation  with 
and  love  of  material  things — physical  science,  in- 
vention, and  the  luxuries  to  which  they  minister  and 
give  birth — like  a  lowering  cloud  tends  to  obscure 
in  many  the  quickening  light  of  faith.  The  example 
of  the  servant  of  God,  Gemma  Galgani,  refutes  the 
skepticism  of  the  one,  and  rebukes  the  wavering 
faith  of  the  other.  Her  life-story,  authenticated  as 
it  is  by  the  unimpeachable  evidence  of  contempor- 
ary witnesses,  proves  that  the  wonderful  super- 
natural manifestations  recorded  of  other  great 
servants  of  God  are  not  necessarily  legendary;  that 
God  is  as  near  to  us  through  the  Church  as  ever 
before;  and  that  His  desire  and  willingness  to  unite 
men  to  Himself  in  the  closest  bonds  of  familiarity 
and  friendship  still  endure. 

The  sanctity  of  Gemma  Galgani,  a  child  of  our 
own  time,  is  quite  in  line  with  that  recorded  of  the 
greatest  servants  of  God.  In  fact  she  is  unique,  if 
not  in  the  nature  of  the  supernatural  favors  of  which 
she  was  the  recipient,  at  least  in  the  abundance  and 
variety  of  the  heavenly  gifts  which  were  lavished 
upon  her.  She  was  indeed  a  flowering  field  of  lux- 
uriant spiritual  beauty  upon  which  beamed  in  full 
strength  a  supernal  light,  all  the  more  visible  to  the 
eyes  of  men  by  contrast  with  the  surrounded  gloom. 
As  the  radiant  glimmerings  of  dawn  bespeak 
the  beauty  of  the  coming  day,  the  infancy  and  child- 
hood of  Gemma  were  the  pledges  cf  her  future 
holiness.  Given  saintly  parents  like  Henry  Galgani 
and  Aurelia  Landi  of  noble  and  saintly  forbears,  a 
flourishing  little  garden  of  the  faith  like  Lucca,  and 
given  such  an  ideal  Christian  maiden  blessed  with 
the  noblest  qualities  of  heart,  and  mind,  and  soul, 
and  at  once  we  recognize  a  providential   arrange- 


ment of  circumstances,  that,  with  due  co-operation, 
will  naturally  produce  a  saint. 

Camigliano,  a  village  in  Tuscany,  was  the  birth- 
place of  the  angelic  girl  who  is  the  subject  of  this 
story.  She  was  the  fifth  child  and  first  daughter  of 
Henry  Galgani  and  Aurelia  Landi  and  was  born  on 
the  12th  of  March,  1878.  Before  the  birth  of 
Gemma  her  mother  was  filled  with  extraordinary 
joy.  Signora  Galgani  had  prayed  to  Jesus  for  a 
daughter.  What  could  those  abundant  emotions  of 
supernatural  happiness  never  experienced  before 
or  after  at  such  a  critical  time,  signify  to  one  of  her 
saintly  dispositions,  but  that  now  her  prayer  was 
to  be  answered?  She  was  not  perhaps  aware  that 
through  this  child  she  was  to  become,  with  the 
mothers  of  other  great  seivants  of  God,  blessed 
among  women.  To  Signora  Galgani  belongs  the 
honor,  whether  or  not  she  anticipated  it,  of  being  the 
mother  of  one  who  was  destined  to  be  especially 
favored  of  Heaven.  Signor  Galgani  participated 
in  her  happiness  as  soon  as  he  rested  his  eyes  upon 
the  new-born  child. 

The  name  of  Gemma  bestowed  upon  her  next 
day  at  the  baptismal  font  of  St.  Michael's  Church 
shall  be  the  witness  to  men  of  his  conviction  that 
God  has  given  him  a  gift  beyond  price.  Only  a 
few  short  years  will  be  necessary  to  reveal  that 
Signor  Galgani's  daughter  is  indeed  h  resplendent 
"Gem"  in  the  crown  of  his  fathers,  in  the  crown  of 
the  Church,  in  the  crown  of  the  Crucified  in  Heaven 
— a  new  request  of  His  Blood. 

Camigliano,  where  the  Galganis  were  living 
when  Gemma  was  born,  must  be  content  with  the 
honor  of  being  her  birthplace.  Lucca  whither  the 
family  removed  when  Gemma  was  but  two  months 
old,  will  be  forever  glorified  by  being  associated 
with  her  name,  because  it  was  there  that  God  ac- 
complished in  her  the  miracles  ot  His  grace. 

■^^^^HE  manifold  graces  with  which  Gemma 
a  C~\  was  adorned  and  by  which  God  made  her 
^  i  entirely  His  own  even  from  her  birth,  are 
^^^  all  that  is  to  be  recorded  of  her  infancy 
and  childhood.  Applying  the  principle  laid  down 
by  the  Master  Himself,  "by  their  fruit  ye  shall 
know  them,"  we  should  know  without  further  in- 
formation that  the  parents  of  such  a  child  as  Gemma 
Galgani  were  models  of  Christian  faith  and  piety. 
Even  if  Providence  had  destined  for  her  merely 
the  ordinary  gifts  of  grace,  it  is  certain  that  under 


THE  1*  SIGN 


the  care  of  Aurelia  Galgani,  they  would  have  blos- 
somed into  the  finest  flowers  of  virtue.  Has  God 
made  it  a  law  unto  Himself  to  give  a  mother  who 
is  a  saint  to  one  whom  He  destines  for  high 
sanctity?  At  all  events  Signora  Galani  was  such  a 
saintly  mother. 

This  good  mother  sought  to  learn  from  the 
Divine  Master  Himself,  how  to  instruct,  guide,  and 
educate  her  children.  Living  in  her  Savior,  as  she 
did,  by  constant  prayer,  by  daily  Mass  and  Com- 
munion, Signora  Galgani  had  but  one  desire,  to 
sanctify  her  home.  With  gentle  sweetness  she 
supplemented  the  teaching  of  the  school  by  her 
own  zealous  words.  Children  do  not  quickly  for- 
get, nor  can  they  easily  divest  themselves  of  the 
influence  of  a  devout  and  loving  mother's  teaching. 
Words  that  come  from  a  heart  glowing  with  natural 
affection  purified  by  Divine  Love,  have  an  unction 
and  authority  like  the  words  of  a  Sheoherd  of  the 
Flock. 

Signora  Galgani  loved  Gemma  as  she  did  none 
other  of  her  children,  because  it  was  clear  to  her 
that  Gemma  was  especially  dear  to  God.  But  she 
was  too  wise,  as  well  as  too  spiritual,  to  waste  time 
in  useless  caresses.  Her  special  love  was  apparent 
rather  in  her  special  pains  to  bring  her  child  nearer 
to  God.  It  is  like  a  record  from  the  Golden  Age 
of  Christianity  to  be  told  how  this  good  mother 
would  kneel  in  prayer  with  Gemma,  morning  and 
evening,  in  order  to  teach  her  to  pray;  how  she 
would  take  her  to  Church  in  the  early  morning  to 
assist  at  the  Holy  Mysteries;  how  at  home  she  would 
take  her  into  her  arms  and  explain  to  her  the  truths 
of  faith — the  malice  of  sin,  the  goodness  of  God, 
the  happiness  of  serving  Him,  the  joys  of  Heaven, 
and  the  meaning  of  the  cross  and  of  Christ's  sacri- 
fice. "Look,  Gemma,"  she  would  say,  "see  how 
much  this  dear  Jesus  has  suffered  for  us."  The 
Holy  Child  relished  these  instructions  so  much 
that  her  soul  would  hunger  for  them  between  times. 
It  would  sometimes  happen  that  while  her  mother 
was  engaged  in  household  duties,  Gemma  would 
take  hold  of  her  dress  and  say,  "Mamma,  tell  me 
more  about  Jesus." 

Signora  Galgani  was  particularly  eloquent  on 
the  subject  of  Heaven.  Her  thoughts  must  have 
frequently  turned  to  that  consoling  truth  during  the 
years  of  Gemma's  infancy,  because  consumption, 
the  disease  to  which  the  Signora  afterwards  suc- 
cumbed, was  then  rapidly  undermining  her  health. 
"Gemma,"  she  said  one  time,  "Gemma,  if  I  take 
you  with  me  where  I  am  going  would  you  come?" 
"Where  is  that?"  asked  the  child.  "To  Heaven 
with  Jesus  and  the  angels."  "Yes,"  she  replied, 
her  young  heart  being  filled  with  eagerness  to  go  to 
Heaven  at  once.  This  desire  thus  awakened,  went 
on  increasing  as  long  as  Gemma  lived,  until  it  be- 
came a  consuming  fire. 

Signor  Galgani  also  cherished  a  special  love 
for  Gemma.  He  delighted  to  be  with  her  at  all 
times.     On  entering  the  house  his  first  inquiry  was 


for  her.  He  would  often  take  her  with  him  on  his 
walks  and  at  home  Gemma  received  almost  his 
undivided  attention.  Not  being  as  discreet  as  his 
saintly  spouse,  he  made  no  effort  to  conceal  his 
predilection. 

"I  have  but  two  children,"  he  would  say, 
"Gemma  and  Gino."  Gino  was  an  elder  brother, 
like  her  in  piety  and  innocence  and  emulating  her 
in  the  practice  of  virtue.  Who  would  be  proof 
against  such  partiality  when  the  object  of  it  was  so 
completely  informed  by  spiritual  beauty  and  sweet- 
ness? None  of  Signor  Galgani's  other  children 
was  so  charming  in  person  and  character,  none  so 
full  of  unearthly  seriousness  and  dignity  of  bearing. 
None  inspired  in  him  such  delight,  admiration  and 
even  wonder  as  little  Gemma. 

We  do  not  wonder  that  Gemma's  brothers  and 
sisters  were  not  jealous,  as  children  are  wont  to 
be.  They  were  too  well  convinced  of  her  worth, 
too  full  of  the  same  love  for  her  to  resent  their 
parents  partiality.  Therefore  it  seems  entirely  true 
to  say,  that  neither  the  holy  mother  nor  the  devout 
father,  nor  even  both  together  were  the  focus  of 
the  family  union  and  affection;  rather  it  was  angelic 
little  Gemma,  still  an  infant  lately  carried  in  her 
mother's  arms. 

And  Gemma — shall  she  not  rejoice  ?  Shall  she 
not  take  a  childish  complacence  in  such  devotion? 
Rather  she  weeps  and  pleads  with  her  father  not 
to  give  her  any  marks  of  his  preference.  What 
more  natural  for  a  doting  parent,  who  has  a  saint 
for  his  child,  than  to  bestow  caresses  upon  her.  But 
he  never  succeeded  in  doing  so.  Gemma  not  only 
remonstrates,  but  resists,  "Am  I  not  your  father?" 
he  would  say  to  her.  "Yes;  but,  Papa,  do  not  touch 
me.  I  do  not  want  to  be  touched  by  anyone." 
Signor  Galgani,  we  are  told,  wept  with  joy  at  this 
evidence  of  such  saintly  dispositions  in  his  child. 

That  young  cavalier  cousin,  seated  upon  his 
horse  standing  at  the  gate,  had  a  novel  experience. 
Having  forgotten  something,  he  called  to  Gemma 
to  bring  it  to  him.  No  doubt  in  his  mind  that  she 
would  do  it.  But  such  charming  grace  in  the  doing 
was  irresistible.  Could  any  stalwart  cousin  do 
otherwise  than  pat  her  on  the  cheek?  Much  less 
could  he  forget  the  manner  in  which  his  expression 
of  appreciation  was  received.  He  was  repulsed 
with  such  impetuous  firmness,  that  in  a  twinkle  of 
an  eye  he  was  sprawling  in  the  dust  at  the  feet 
of  his  horse.  The  injuries  he  afterwards  nursed 
must  have  taught  him  caution  in  bestowing  his 
caresses  on  Gemma. 

TGNOR  GALGANI  removed  his  family 
to  Lucca  because  of  the  better  opportuni- 
ties there  afforded  for  the  education  of 
his  children.  Gemma  was  but  two  years 
old,  when  with  two  brothers  and  a  sister,  she  was 
sent  as  a  day  scholar  to  a  private  school  kept  by 
two  estimable  ladies,  Emilia  and  Elena  Vallini. 
The  same  qualitites  that  endeared  her  to  her  family, 


THE  +  SIGN 


made  her  a  favorite  with  all  at  school. ,  Her  pre- 
cociousness  proved  that  her  parents  made  no  mis- 
take in  sending  her  to  school  so  young.  In  fact  it 
soon  became  known  that  she  was  blessed  with 
unusual  mental  gifts.  Her  mistresses  have  left  it  on 
record  that  she  quickly  memorized  all  the  prayers 
the  children  were  accustomed  to  say,  though  it 
would  take  a  half  hour  to  recite  them  together.  She 
learned  with  ease  whatever  was  taught;  and  found 
no  difficulty  in  mastering  certain  branches  that 
seemed  rather  beyond  the  capacity  of  even  older 
children. 

Teachers  naturally  like  a  bright  pupil,  but 
Gemma  was  especially  dear  because  of  the  beauti- 
ful qualities  of  her  heart  and  soul.  Though  of  a 
lively  disposition,  she  was  always  diligent  and 
exact,  and  seldom  needed  correction.  But  when  she 
was  corrected  for  the  little  faults  natural  in  a  child 
of  such  tender  age,  one  word  was  enough.  She 
received  praise  and  blame  with  an  angelic  com- 
posure, that  was  beautified  by  the  delightful  smile 
with  which  both  were  received.  She  was  never 
seen  to  give  expression  to  bursts  of  anger  or  of 
childish  caprice.  In  a  word  there  were  so  many 
beautiful  qualities  in  Gemma,  her  conduct  was  al- 
ways so  exemplary  that  her  mistresses  were  con- 
vinced that  she  had  come  to  the  use  of  reason  long 
before  the  usual  age. 

In  fact  it  was  apparent  even  from  her  earliest 
years  that  Gemma  was  no  ordinary  child  and  that 
God  had  "marked  her  for  His  own."  Such  was  her 
sweetness  and  seriousness,  and  even  dignity,  that 
she  appeared  to  be  an  angel  in  human  form  who 
had  taken  up  abode  in  the  large  family — five  boys 
and  three  girls — with  which  God  had  blessed  the 
devout  Galganis.  The  sacred  water  of  baptism 
would  seem  not  only  to  have  removed  the  stain 
of  original  sin,  but  also  to  have  healed  its  wounds. 
The  innocence  of  her  soul  seemed  to  beam  from 
her  white  brow,  the  pallor  of  which  was  heightened 
by  her  jet  black  hair  and  her  dark  luminous  eyes. 
The  engaging  beauty  of  her  countenance  when  lit 
up  by  the  sweet  smile  natural  to  her,  endowed  her 
with  charm  that  seemed  altogether  divine. 

Meantime  Signora  Galgani's  malady  had  pro- 
gressed to  such  a  critical  point  that  the  children 
were  withdrawn  from  school.  Though  confined 
to  her  bed  Signora  Galgani's  anxiety  for  her 
children's  spiritual  education  increased,  because 
she  knew  that  her  time  was  short.  She  prepared 
them  all  for  confession,  although  some  were  scarce- 
ly six  years  of  age.  She  was  particularly  delighted 
with  Gemma.  How  carefully  she  examined  her 
conscience,  and  how  bitterly  the  dear  chid  lamented 
the  faults  she  felt  she  had  committed  against  the 
good  God. 

It  was  the  earnest  wish  of  the  Signora  Galgani 
to  have  her  Gemma  confirmed  and  thus  to  entrust 
her  into  the  keeping  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Gemma 
was  judged  worthy  even  at  the  age  of  seven  to 
receive  this  great  sacrament.    Her  mother  instructed 


her  with  great  care,  and  also  engaged  the  services  of 
the  Sisters  of  Christian  Doctrine  to  supplement  her 
own  efforts.  Gemma  was  confirmed  on  May  26th, 
1885,  in  the  Basilica  of  St.  Michael  in  Foro. 

Gemma  needed  the  strength  this  Holy  Sacra- 
ment gives, for  the  great  trial  that  was  in  store  for  her. 
When  the  malady,  from  which  her  mother  suffered, 
was  recognized  as  consumption,  by  the  advice  of 
the  physicians,  who  feared  contagion,  the  children 
were  forbdden  entrance  into  the  sick-room.  This 
was  a  great  privation  to  Gemma,  who  pleaded  so 
earnestly  that  an  excepton  was  made  in  her  favor. 
She  tells  us  how  she  was  occupied  during  these 
visits.  "I  drew  near  to  mamma's  pillow  and  we 
prayed."  Later  on  Gemma  bitterly  regretted  her 
importunity  in  this  mattter,  thinking  it  was  the  result 
of  caprice  and  self-will. 

How  could  such  a  child  bear  to  be  separated 
forever  on  earth  from  this  beloved  mother.  Besides 
giving  her  the  grace  through  Confirmation  to  support 
this  trial,  God  also  ordained  that  she  should  have 
all  the  merit  of  a  sacrifice  wholly  voluntary.  After 
the  ceremony  of  Confirmation,  Gemma  with  those 
who  accompanied  her,  remained  to  hear  another 
Mass  in  thanksgiving.  It  is  better  to  give  in  her  own 
words  what  happened.  "I  was  hearing  holy  Mass 
as  well  as  I  could,  praying  for  mamma,  when  all  at 
once  a  voice  said  to  me :  'Wilt  thou  give  me  thy 
mamma?'  'Yes,'  I  answered,  'providing  thou  takest 
me  also.'  'No,'  said  the  voice,  'give  me  thy  mamma 
unreservedly.  For  the  present  thou  must  remain 
with  thy  father ;  I  will  take  thy  mother  from  thee  to 
heaven.'  I  was  obliged  to  answer,  'Yes,'  and  as 
soon  as  Mass  was  over  I  hastened  home."  The 
poor  child  feared,  perhaps,  that  her  dear  mother 
would  die  before  she  got  there. 

When  Gemma  reached  home,  her  mother  was 
dying.  She  knelt  beside  her  bed,  praying  and 
weeping  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  Signor 
Galgani  feared  that  the  child  would  die  before  her 
mother.  She  was  therefore  removed  to  her  Aunt 
Helen  Landi's  at  S.  Gennaro.  Afterwards  Signora 
Galgani  rallied  somewhat,  and  lingered  for  a  few 
months  longer;  then  relapsing,  she  rapidly  grew 
worse,  and  died  Sept.  19,  1886. 

This  loss  was  a  crushing  sorrow  to  Gemma,  bet- 
ter imagined  than  described.  In  the  death  of  her 
mother,  she  had  sacrificed  all  that  she  held  dearest 
on  earth.  "Who  will  now  teach  me,"  she  was  heard 
to  lament,  "who  will  now  teach  me  to  love  Jesus." 
Gemma  could  declare  that  her  mother  was  her  first 
teacher  in  the  knowledge  and  love  of  God  and 
divine  things. 

Though  her  mother's  death  was  a  great  cross 
to  her,  Gemma's  resignation  was  a  source  of  wonder 
and  admiration  to  all.  Gemma  knew  by  divine 
revelation  that  her  mother  had  exchanged  a  place 
of  suffering  and  trial  for  the  Crown  of  Eternal  glory, 
that  she  had  merited  by  her  holy  life.  She  was 
too  well  aware  of  the  benefits  of  a  sainted  mother's 
prayers  to  wish  that  her  exile  had  been  prolonged. 


A   Galakad   of  the   North 

Gabriel  Francis  Powers 


V^^^^^IiE  faint  sound,  like  a  muffled  knock, 
A  <^~>k  came  at  the  door  again.  The  wood- 
■  |  man    took    his    PiPe    from    his    mouth, 

^L^  M  and  turned,  from  the  ten-days-old  paper 
^^^l^r  he  was  reading,  to  listen.  The  woman, 
busy  with  the  child  in  her  lap,  had  not  even  heard. 
Beside  the  fireplace,  in  the  glow  of  the  fire,  a  curly- 
headed  small  boy  was  singing  lustily,  keeping  time 
with  his  tin  cup  and  a  spoon.  "Ta,  ta,  ra-ra, 
ta  tah". . . 

"Stop  your  noise,  Jimmy!" 

The  man  turned  again  to  listen.  He  was  quite 
young,  barely  thirty,  of  medium  height,  with  a  lean, 
keen  face,  eyes  of  steel  blue,  and  the  clean,  ener- 
getic, elastic  movements  of  one  who  lives  out-of- 
doors. 

One  of  those  snow-storms  which  sweep  down 
upon  the  mountain,  even  in  July,  was  noisy  with 
gusts  and  soughing  of  pines  and  cedars  around  the 
house,  but  the  trained  ear  of  the  hunter  had  detected 
another  sound.  "Can't  be  nobody  outside,"  he  ex- 
plained to  his  wife,  "and  yet  I  heard  a  scuffling." 

"You're  dreaming,  Dermot.  Who'd  be  coming 
up  here,  and  in  the  snow?" 

"I  know  who  it  is,  Daddy!  It's  the  baby  bear. 
Him  is  hungwy  and  wants  his  bwead  and  milk,  he 
does!" 

The  woodman  opened  the  door. 

Outside  was  a  dumb  figure,  motionless,  the  head 
wrapped  in  a  muffler,  the  face  dead  white.  The 
hands  clung  to  the  door-post.  Sharp,  icy  snow  whip- 
ped into  the  cabin. 

"Come  in,  man,  come  in!"  There  was  no  an- 
swer. The  figure,  which  some  stark,  subconscious 
power  kept  upright,  was  as  though  it  had  been 
frozen  stiff  where  it  stood. 

The  vigorous  arms  of  the  forester  shot  out,  and 
with  quick  force  brought  it  in,  laid  it  flat,  and,  un- 
ceremoniously, with  a  fist  full  of  snow,  proceeded 
to  rub  that  face  so  ghastly  in  its  waxen  pallor.  The 
eyes  looked  at  him,  but  gazed,  as  though  death  had 
already  entered  in. 

The  young  man  worked  almost  with  fury: 
"Take  off  his  shoes,  Mary,  and  get  me  some  ice- 
water."  The  woman,  calm,  yet  with  anguish  in  her 
expression,  obeyed. 

"He  aint  going  to  die,  Dermot?"  .  .  . 

"I  d'no  .  . .  seems  pretty  far  gone  .  .  .  Jimmy  boy, 
kneel  down  and  ask  God  to  let  this  man  live." 

Jimmy  tumbled  to  his  knees,  and  squatting, 
with  two  round  blue  eyes  fixed  upon  his  father's 
face,  prayed  aloud  in  emphatic  tones :  "O  God, 
please  let  this  man  what  was  out  in  the  snow,  and 
got  cold,  and  wasnt  the  baby  bear,  be  alive  as 
Daddy  says  . .  .  And  make  me  a  good  boy.    Amen." 


He  ended  with  an  elaborate  Sign  of  the  Cross, 
begun  carefully  at  the  left  shoulder,  and  made  with 
the  left  hand. 

The  man  upon  the  ground  moved  his  head 
and  sighed.  The  woodman  fetched  more  snow. 
Presently,  over  the  blue  lips,  came  the  faintest  pos- 
sible sound  of  a  human  voice:  "Where  am  I?" 

The  woman  answered.  Laying  a  comforting 
hand  upon  the  limp  arm,  she  said:  "Don't  worry, 
you  are  with  friends." 

The  stranger  turned  his  head  to  glance  at  her: 
"Who  are  you?" 

"Just  Mary,"  and  she  laughed  a  little,  happily. 

"Ah,  Mary,  I  am  so  glad;  I  had  forgotten  you 
were  there." 

Then  he  looked,  still  wondering,  at  the  fine 
young  face  of  the  woodman  bending  over  him.  "I 
know  you  very  well,"  he  murmured.  "I  have  often 
seen  you  at  the  Communion  rail." 

Husband  and  wife  glanced  at  one  another, 
mystified. 

"I  never  left  the  mountain,  sir,  except  to  go  to 
France." 

"I  have  been  walking  in  the  cold  and  the  dark 
so  long  ...  I  don't  remember  very  well."  Presently 
he  made  a  determined  effort  to  raise  himself.  "I 
must  be  going  on.  I  have  to  be  in  Valley  Mill  by 
Sunday.    This  is  Friday,  is  it  not?" 

"No,  sir,  Saturday." 

"Saturday?  .  .  .  Why  where  have  I  been!  Are 
you  sure  it's  Saturday?" 

"Positive!" 

The  stranger  struggled  to  get  upon  his  feet, 
and  fell  back  dizzily.  "I  guess  it's  weakness,  I  have 
not  eaten  since  Thursday." 

The  housewife  got  to  her  feet  quickly  and 
went  out. 

"And  you've  bin  on  the  mountain  all  this  time?" 

"I  fell  in  a  crevice  once,  I  don't  know  how  long 
I  was  there — but  it  -was  the  wind  that  finished  me. 
Maybe  you  know  what  the  wind  is  like  up  there? 
I  was  so  near  over  the  brink  of  a  precipice  that  I 
don't  know  myself  what  saved  me." 

"Take  the  coffee  now  and  a  bite  of  bread;  it 
won't  hurt  you!    Supper  will  be  ready  before  long." 

"Thanks,  friends,  you  are  very  good  to  me,  ar.d 
I  won't  forget  it.    After  supper  I  must  be  going  on." 

"You  had  best  wait  for  the  morning  light,  sir. 
The  mountain  is  full  of  pitfalls  in  the  dark,  and 
its  very  hard  to  find  the  paths  in  the  snow.  It's 
lucky  for  you  that  you  have  no  baggage  to  carry." 

"Lucky?  Between  yesterday  and  today  I  lost 
a  pack  that  I  would  not  have  taken  ten  thousand 
dollars  for.  And  I've  got  to  go  look  for  it,  or  it's 
no  use  for  me  to  go  on." 


THE  1*  SIGN 


"What  are  you  selling?" 

"Nothing;  I'm  a  priest,  a  missionary.  And  all 
that  I  need  to  say  Mass  is  in  that  valise." 

"We're  Catholics  ourselves,  Father.  Of  Father 
Francis'  parish." 

"I  don't  know  why,  but  I  felt  sure  you  were 
Catholics.  And  I  was  sent  down  last  month  to  help 
Father  Francis.  Some  parish  he  has!  Mountains, 
valleys  and  plains,  ten  thousand  square  miles  of  it, 
and  only  God's  holy  Name  to  keep  him  on  horse- 
back or  in  a  rattletrap  Ford.  What's  your  name, 
neighbor?" 

"Dermot  Healy,  sir." 

"A  woodsman,  I  take  it?" 

"Yes,  sir,  and  guide." 

"The  Lord  directed  my  footsteps  .  .  .  Would  you 
be  willing  to  help  me  look  for  my  baggage  and  then 
show  me  the  way  over  the  mountain?" 

"That  I  will,  Father!" 

"God  bless  you,  boy!  I'll  hear  your  confes- 
sions before  we  go  to  bed." 

"How  often  does  the  priest  get  around?" 

"About  every  three  months,  sometimes  its  four 
if  the  roads  are  bad."  How  did  you  come  to  lose 
your  baggage?" 

"I'll  tell  you.  You  see  that  I  am  hatless?  Well, 
the  wind  took  all  I  had.  I  was  sitting  down  eating 
my  lunch  in  a  place  that  I  thought  sheltered,  when 
the  wind  suddenly  rose  and  started  to  blow  a  gale. 
I  had  no  idea  it  could  be  so  terrific!  My  hat  and 
my  thermos  bottle  went  like  straws,  and  before  I 
could  catch  the  pack  which  I  had  rested  against  a 
tree-trunk,  it  started  to  go  down  hill  in  leaps  and 
bounds.  I  ran  forty  or  fifty  yards,  striving  to  catch 
it,  but  right  in  front  of  my  eyes  it  was  whirled  over 
the  edge  of  a  ravine,  and  the  snow  which  had  just 
commenced  prevented  my  seeing  further.  On  top 
of  that,  I  lost  my  way." 

"Could  you  give  me  any  idea  of  where  you 
were  at  the  time?" 

"I  can  tell  exactly  where  I  stopped  for  lunch, 
and  the  spot  wasn't  far  from  there.  There  is  a  small 
stream,  three  or  four  juniper  trees  in  a  group,  and  a 
towering  rock  with  the  initials  A.  C.  S.,  and  a  date 
scratched  on  it." 

"Steel's  camp!  I  know  it  well.  He  was  hunt- 
ing here  the  year  before  we  went  into  the  war." 

"And  you'll  take  me  there  first  thing  in  the 
morning?" 

"I  surely  will.  I  guess  an  outfit  for  Mass  like 
that  is  worth  a  lot  of  money?" 

"This  one  isn't  worth  so  very  much;  its  old  and 
shabby,  but  we  can't  have  Mass  without  it.  It  holds 
a  little  crucifix  and  candlesticks,  the  vestment  and 
cruets,  all  in  the  smallest  possible  space.  Then  an 
altar-stone  that  it  takes  a  bishop  to  bless  and  con- 
secrate; a  round  gilded  plate  we  call  a  paten  for  the 
sacred  Host,  and  a  chalice  that  has  held  the  blood  of 
Christ.  Think  of  all  that  lost  somewhere  up  on  the 
mountain!"  ....  Let  me  look  out  at  the  weather, 
Dermot." 


He  struggled  to  get  up  on  his  feet  and  fell  back : 
"That's  curious  ...  I  don't  seem  to  be  able  to  stand. 
It's  my  knees  ...  or  maybe  my  spine." 

The  young  man  regarded  him  with  some 
anxiety.  "Better  get  to  bed  tonight,  Father.  A 
good  rest  will  set  you  up."  To  his  wife,  an  hour 
later,  he  was  whispering.  "Unless  I'm  much  mis- 
taken, his  two  feet  are  frost-bitten  and  he  won't 
walk  for  four  days." 

His  own  practise  was  to  rise  at  dawn.  Some 
unwritten  law  seemed  to  require  it.  Every  day, 
summer  and  winter,  he  must  see  the  sun  rise :  that, 
solemn,  magnificent,  awe-inspiring  spectacle,  spread 
like  a  sign  in  the  heavens,  and  new  and  different 
every  day  that  broke.  At  that  elevation,  the  cold 
was  intense,  though  the  lower  world  was  at  summer. 
The  morning  promised  to  be  clear  after  the  storm. 
It  was  a  marvelous  world,  somewhat  sullen  still  with 
drifts  of  clouds  clinging  mistily  to  the  crags,  but 
overhead  the  air  was  transparently  pure.  The 
woodsman  prepared  his  breakfast  and  ate  it  without 
haste,  then  put  the  coiled  rope  over  his  shoulder, 
took  his  pick,  his  lunch-box  and  a  change  of  gar- 
ments, systematically,  like  the  man  who  means  busi- 
ness, and  was  slipping  noiselessly  out  when  his  wife 
appeared.    "You  won't  take  any  risks,  Dermot?" 

"Mary  dear,  you  see  me  go  out  every  day, 
don't  you?  And  wouldn't  you  say  I  was  an  ordinary 
careful  man?" 

"  'Taint  snowing,"  she  answered,  "but  somehow 
I  feel  worried.  I  coudn't  help  thinking  of  poor 
Larry  all  night." 

"Now,  Mary,  that's  just  blamed  foolishness. 
Would  you  leave  all  those  holy  things,  the  stone  of 
consecration,  the  gold  plate  for  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment and  the  chalice,  that,  as  he  says,  has  held  the 
Blood  of  Christ,  would  you  leave  them  lie  up  there 
among  the  rocks?  I  tell  you  frankly  that  I  was 
glad  he  made  me  go  to  confession  last  night,  other- 
wise I  would  be  scared  even  to  touch  the  outside  of 
the  pack.  "Goodbye,  dear  . . .  and  don't  worry  if 
I'm  late." 

Another  voice  reached  the  woman  from  the 
door  of  the  inner  room.  "Has  he  gone?  . . .  Call  him 
back  quickly,  child!     I'm  going  with  him. 

He  stood  in  the  gray  half-light,  a  plain  man  in 
a  flannel  shirt,  breeches  and  leggins;  he  was  a  little 
bald  and  his  eyes  looked  tired,  but  what  amazed  the 
woodman  was  that  he  was  on  his  feet  at  all. 

"You're  not  thinking  of  going  out,  Father?" 

"I'm  ready  to  start  now  if  your  wife  will  just 
give  me  a  cup  of  coffee." 

"But  your  feet  are  badly  swollen  and  I  bet  they 
hurt  like  the  mischief." 

"They  do  hurt  a  bit,  but  I  managed  to  get 
my  shoes  on." 

"You  can't  walk  like  that,  Father.  Let  me  go 
look  for  the  valise  and  I'll  come  back  for  you  soon 
as  I  find  it." 

"No,  sir :  You  lead  right  on,  Macduff,  and  the 
tenderfoot  follows." 


THE  +  SIGN 


'5 


In  about  five  minutes  they  were  out.  The  gray- 
ness  of  first  dawn  had  lifted  and  a  pale,  chilly  light 
was  all  around  them.  The  great  peak  in  the  shadow 
of  which  they  lived,  towered  blue  and  dreary.  The 
east  was  behind  it,  and,  in  that  sky,  was  a  burning 
and  a  stirring,  an  actual  busy,  rapid,  observable, 
rotatory  movement  of  incandescent  cloud-bodies  as 
though  in  that  immense,  limitless,  aerial  furnace, 
the  fire  was  being  kindled  for  the  new  day.  The 
snow  lay  underfoot,  virgin,  and  as  yet  untouched  by 
color;  fields  of  white  cloud  and  mist  shut  out  the 
world  below;  and  only  two  things  were  really  alive 
and  significant,  that  tremendous,  isolated  indigo 
peak  above  them,  flinging  its  fingers  of  rock  toward 
high  heaven,  and,  behind  it,  those  fires,  burning, 
spreading,  spark-launching,  a  conflagration  which, 
if  it  lasted  more  than  a  few  minutes,  must  consume 
the  very  sky. 

At  the  head  of  the  first  steep  ascent,  the  mis- 
sionary begged  for  a  short  rest.  The  guide  guessed 
that  he  was  in  pain  and  proposed  returning  but  the 
suggestion,  in  fact  the  appeal,  was  made  in  vain. 
"I  shall  be  all  right  when  I  get  my  second  wind." 
So  they  trudged  on  again,  with  the  snow  up  to  their 
knees. 

"I  thought  we  would  go  to  Steel's  camp  first 
and  walk  back  from  there,"  the  young  man  pro- 
posed. "Suits  me,"  his  companion  answered.  "I 
could  never  find  the  way  myself." 

"And  were  you  going  over  the  mountain  like 
that,  Father,  without  a  guide? 

"My  boy,  I'll  tell  you:  its  a  long  story.  A 
friend  brought  me  in  his  own  car  the  first  lap  of  the 
road.  Then  the  mud  got  so  bad  I  had  to  leave  him 
and  the  machine  in  a  village  of  sixty  inhabitants 
and  go  on  in  the  auto-stage.  The  gasoline  gave  out 
and  the  chauffeur  advised  me  to  go  forward  on  foot 
since  I  was  in  a  hurry,  for,  at  about  two  miles  from 
that  point,  I  could  connect  with  another  conveyance, 
the  wagon  that  takes  the  mail  to  Valley  Mill.  I 
believe  this  connection  was  to  be  made  at  a  place 
called  Fir  Crest." 

"Fir  Crest  is  right." 

"It  may  be,  but  I  never  got  there.  I  must  have 
walked  ten  miles  instead  of  two,  and  round  about 
instead  of  forward  for  night  came  on,  and  then  the 
wind  and  the  snow  storm,  and  I  have  not  got  to 
Fir  Crest  yet." 

"You  are  more  than  five  miles  to  this  side  of  it 
now." 

Once  more  they  tramped  on  in  that  silent, 
sympathetic  companionship  of  the  long  trails,  until 
at  length,  close  on  noon,  the  guide  pointed  to  a 
massy  rock  ahead  of  them.    "Steel's  camp,"  he  said. 

"So  it  is,  and  the  stream.  Let's  rest  a  bit  and 
you  eat  your  lunch." 

"There's  plenty  for  two,  Father  . . .  Right  here 
is  where  the  timber  belt  ends!" 

They  sat  down  together,  the  priest  with  a  Latin 
grace,  the  woodsman  with  one  of  his  own  that  he 
never  failed  to  say,  and  he  said  it  with  reverence: 


"God  bless  my  grub."  But  they  did  not  sit  long. 
There  was  a  thought  in  the  minds  of  both  of  them 
that  spurred  them  on. 

"Now,  look,  Dermot,  this  is  where  my  hat  went 
overboard,  and  yonder,  no,  come  along  the  path  a 
little,  boy,  you  can't  see  it  from  here.  Down  there, 
to  the  left,  where  there  is  an  edge  of  sheer  rock, 
and  kingdom-come  beneath  it,  that's  where  the  pack 
went  down." 

"You'll  never  see  your  pack  again,  Father  " 

"I  won't?" 

"You  never  will.  That  ravine  is  from  two  to 
three  hundred  feet  deep  with  sheer  walls  of  rock, 
smooth  as  board,  and  a  torrent  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

"But  I've  got  to  try." 

"Not  if  you  value  your  life,  Father." 

"Couldn't  you  let  me  down  with  your  rope  and 
let  me  take  a  look  around  for  it?" 

"The  rope  ain't  long  enough." 

"I've  got  to  try,  Dermot.  I  see  some  little 
ridges  and  a  bush  here  and  there  out  of  the  crevices; 
with  the  help  of  the  rope  I  am  sure  I  could  do  it." 

The  young  man  threw  his  own  belongings  upon 
the  ground.  "If  it  comes  to  that,  Father,  I'm  the  one 
to  go!" 

"Nonsense,  you've  got  a  wife  and  a  child.  I 
wouldn't  think  of  it.     I'm  free." 

"Being  free  don't  help  much  if  you  can't  climb. 
It  takes  the  head  and  it  takes  the  foot.  You'd  grow 
dizzy  and  drop.  Sure  you  would !  .  . .  And  your  feet 
are  aching  you!"  He  was  stripping  off  his  coat. 
"You  stay  and  watch,  and  pray  that  I  may  find  it; 
that  will  help  me  much  more." 

He  secured  the  end  of  the  rope  to  the  trunk  of 
a  tree,  testing  it  before  he  threw  it  over,  made  a 
pad  of  his  muffler  lest  the  sharp  edge  of  the  rock 
saw  it,  stuck  the  pick  in  his  belt,  and  gallantly, 
with  laughter  upon  his  face,  began  the  downward 
slide.  The  rope  oscillated,  swinging  with  the  weight 
of  the  body.    "Top  of  the  morning  to  you,  Father!" 

"Same  to  you,  boy  .  .  .Careful  there  now,  care- 
ful ..  .  Go  easy"  . . . 

The  white  face,  peering  over  the  cliff's  edge, 
was  far  more  anxious  than  the  bright,  ruddy  face 
of  the  guide.  Feats  of  this  kind  were  not  new  to  one 
born  in  the  mountain.  But  if  anybody  had  told  him 
yesterday  that  he  was  going  to  attempt  Knife  Gorge, 
he  would  have  thought  the  speaker  insane.  The 
place  had  a  bad  name,  having  cost  several  lives 
already.  Little  did  the  stranger  know  of  those  too 
daring  climbers  and  naturalists!  Healy  knew,  but 
he  went  down  humming.  The  face  of  granite  was 
passing,  passing  before  his  face,  as  though  there 
would  never  be  an  end  to  its  gigantic  slab.  He  came 
to  the  end  of  the  rope  with:  "Ho,  boy!"  ...  to  him- 
self, and  a  sudden  tightening  of  grip  as  it  swayed 
and  jerked.  The  thing  now,  clinging  with  both 
hands,  was  to  find  a  footing.  Fortunately,  the  knot 
gave  him  some  support.  The  watcher  overhead 
could  not  see  clearly,  but  he  guessed  that  he  had 
come  to  the  end  of  the  rope.    The  faintest,  furthest 


i6 


THE  +  SIGN 


sound  of  a  human  voice  came  floating  down:  "All 
right,  Dermot?"  . . .  and  the  echoes  took  hold,  even 
of  those  weak  sounds  . .  ."All  right ...  all  right . . . 
Dermot . . .  Dermot"  . .  ."Yes !"  went  back  the  lusty 
shout,  so  vigorous  it  carried  clear  to  the  top.  A 
volley  of  echoes  repeated  it.  Then  silence.  He  set 
his  foot  in  a  crevice  and  relinquished  the  rope.  Hand 
by  hand  downward,  with  almost  prehensile  feet,  on 
the  narrowest  ledges,  clinging  to  trifling  patches  of 
green  powdered  with  yesterday's  snow,  and  flat 
against  that  tremendous  adamant  expanse  of  the 
great  wall.  He  tired  of  it  at  last,  the  caution, 
the  slowness,  and  looking  over  his  shoulder  decided 
to  jump.  It  was  a  long  flying  leap  some  twenty 
or  thirty  feet,  and  a  bad  landing  in  the  midst 
of  brambly  shrubs  and  broken  quartz,  but  at  least 
he  was  there.  Rising,  short  of  breath  and  a  little 
stunned,  he  surveyed  this  gorge  in  which  he  had 
never  been  before.  There  seemed  no  entrance  and 
no  issue  from  it  anywhere.  The  huge  cliff-sides 
went  up  sheer,  perpendicular,  and,  if  there  was  the 
smallest  inclination,  it  was  outward  toward  the  top. 
The  sky  was  a  mere  rift  of  blue  between  two  im- 
mensities of  rock.  The  small  torrent  poured  and 
brawled  noisily  as  it  picked  its  difficult  way  ob- 
structed by  boulders.  The  guide  gazed  up  and 
down,  and  across.  Not  a  sign  of  baggage  anywhere. 
"The  chances  are,"  he  soliloquized,  "that  it  broke  in 
the  fall,  and  that  the  stream  swallowed  the  things 
all  up."  He  tried  to  look  into  the  water,  but  the 
foam  made  it  impossible  to  see.  Stepping  from 
rock  to  rock,  he  endeavored  to  cross  over,  but  in  the 
very  midst  fell,  a  hard,  sharp,  unexpected  fall — 
upon  a  stone  slippery  as  glass,  and  the  thick,  warm 
trickle  from  his  forehead,  told  him  he  was  cut.  His 
handkerchief,  confirmed  the  information,  but  he 
kept  on,  too  eagerly  bent  upon  his  task  to  heed  so 
slight  a  wound.  No,  there  was  no  valise  here.  He 
walked,  or  scrambled,  some  thirty  or  forty  yards 
along  the  stream-bed,  searching  diligently  as  he 
went,  and  became  convinced  that  no  parcel  was' 
there.  Then  he  waded  into  the  ice-cold  water, 
searching  and  probing  that  too,  and  at  length  made 
up  his  mind  that  the  quest  was  vain.  "But  its 
got  to  be  here,  its  got  to  be  here,"  he  raged,  baffled 
and  furious  at  the  idea  of  giving  up.  And  once 
more  he  began  to  search  the  banks,  going  in  the 
opposite  direction.  As  he  lifted  his  eyes,  they 
chanced  to  alight  upon  a  dwarfed  tree,  growing" 
hardily  out  of  a  crack  in  the  granite,  and  some  dark 
object  hidden  among  the  branches  caught  his  at- 
tention. Could  it  be  the  package?  Or  was  it 
merely  a  bird's  nest,  or  blackened  foliage?  He 
drew  near,  scanning  it  carefully.  Too  large  for  a 
nest . . .  solid  .  .it  was  certainly  an  unfamiliar  object 
in  the  branches  of  a  tree.  And  as  he  drew  nearer 
and  got  a  better  view,  he  saw  quite  distinctly  that 
it  was  that  object  of  his  desires,  a  traveller's  pack! 
For  a  moment  he  was  almost  beside  himself  with 
joy;  then  came  the  question  how  to  reach  it.  It 
hung,  seventy  or  eighty  feet  above  his  head,  tanta- 


lizingly,  among  the  scrawny  boughs,  against  an 
implacably  smooth  wall.  He  stood  and  looked  at  it. 
There  was  only  one  thing  to  do,  and  that  was  to 
climb  for  it.  He  could  no  longer  see  his  companion; 
by  now  he  had  travelled  perhaps  fifty  yards  up 
stream;  and  the  watcher,  gazing  in  vain  over  the 
cliff's  edge,  could  no  longer  see  the  figure  which  was 
hidden  by  a  jutting  vertical  ridge.  Consumed  with 
anxiety,  the  older  man  kept  pacing  back  and  forth 
the  path  at  the  edge  of  the  chasm,  and  praying 
desperately  that  no  harm  might  befall  the  brave 
lad  whom  he  had  unwillingly  allowed  to  expose 
himself  to  this  danger.  The  agony  of  self-reproach 
was  added  now  to  the  horror  of  fear. 

Dermot,  using  hands  and  feet,  and  with  his  pick 
slung  behind  him,  had  begun  the  perilous  ascent. 
At  every  step  he  was  obliged  to  pause  and  consider, 
and  look  where  he  would  next  place  his  foot.  He 
was  extraordinary  calm,  as  men  often  are  in  great 
peril,  with  mind  keen,  and  heart  resolute  upon  his 
undertaking.  His  hands,  spread  upon  the  granite 
surface,  felt  for  and  found  inequalities  almost  in- 
visible to  the  eye,  and  yet  an  assistance  to  him  in 
that  difficult  situation.  His  shoe  tip,  or  the  side 
edge  of  the  sole,  rested  upon  almost  imperceptibly 
narrow  ridges,  mere  wrinkles  in  the  face  of  stone. 
Once,  seeing  nothing  above  him,  he  felt  for  his  pick 
and  gently,  with  infinite  caution,  broke  a  tiny  dent 
in  the  rock.  It  did  not  respond  as  ice  does,  but  he 
succeeded  in  breaking  away  enough  to  give  him  a 
tiny  foothold;  then  another  in  the  same  slow,  labori- 
ous way,  and  up  again.  How  terrible!  And  how 
precarious!  Could  he  ever  make  it?  And  would 
it  not  be  better  to  go  back  to  where  the  rope  hung, 
where  there  seemed  to  be  more  scrub  growth,  move 
the  rope,  and  try  to  reach  the  package  from  above  ? 
Ay,  but  if  the  rope  fell  short,  then  the  face  of  the 
rock  which  was  just  as  smooth  above  as  below  the 
dwarfling  tree,  would  be  even  harder  to  travel  in  the 
descent.  The  climber  rested  a  moment,  his  fore- 
head leaning  against  the  rock.  There  was  some- 
thing up  there,  dangling  among  the  branches,  for 
which  the  missionary  had  said  he  would  not  take 
ten  thousand  dollars.  What  would  he,  Dermot 
Healy,  be  willing  to  give  for  that  golden  cup  which 
his  hands  were  not  worthy  to  carry?  The  humility 
of  the  young  man's  heart  was  faith,  tremendous 
faith,  and  adoration  of  what  the  Cup  had  held. 
"Would  you  leave  all  those  holy  things  to  lie  up 
there  among  the  rocks?"  he  had  asked  his  wife, 
and  he  asked  himself  the  same  question  now.  It 
was  in  great  lowliness  of  spirit  that  he  went  forward 
once  more.  "I  am  not  worthy  to  touch  them,  as  it 
is!"  A  little  higher  was  a  small  ledge.  He  reached 
it  and  paused  again  to  breathe,  with  arms  extended, 
flat  against  the  bosom  of  the  rock.  Then  on  again, 
his  muscles  aching  from  the  mere  strain  of  the  posi- 
tion, and  his  finger-tips,  his  nails  even,  called  upon 
to  support  him.  And  above  him  loomed  endlessly 
the  adamant  surface  of  granite.  He  felt  himself 
tremble  a  little  and  grow  dizzy.     Was  he  going  to 


THE  1*  SIGN 


faint?  He  had  never  done  such  a  thing  in  his  life, 
and  had  always  esteemed  the  weakness  womanish 
but  this  cloudiness  of  vision,  this  nausea!  He 
closed  his  eyes  and  rested  once  more.  If  he  let  go, 
he  must  fell.  Courage,  only  a  few  feet  more  now, 
and  he  could  touch  it!  There  it  was,  just  above  him, 
he  could  see  it  plainly.  If  he  could  but  reach  it! 
He  was  praying  now,  eager  and  fearful  that  at  the 
very  last  he  might  fall.  A  large  parcel,  wrapped 
in  waterproof  cloth,  bound  around  with  thin  cord, 
and  over  that  again  with  straps.  He  leaned  toward 
it  and  the  very  rock  seemed  to  grow  more  friendly, 
warmer,  as  though  it  were  trying  to  support  him. 
Could  he  carry  it  ?  Could  he  secure  it,  or  would  it 
be  best  to  drop  it?  Then  he  observed  that  the 
straps  formed  loops;  it  had  been  carried  haversack 
fashion,  on  the  missionary's  back;  and  turning 
slightly  with  infinite  caution,  he  passed  one  arm 
into  the  further  loop,  holding  fast  by  the  fibrous 
trunk  of  the  tree.  Even  then  he  did  not  feel  that  he 
had  secured  it,  or  that  he  was  safe  himself.  A  jerk 
might  cause  it  to  fall  to  the  ground,  or  unbalance 
him.  Clinging  hard  to  the  boughs,  he  allowed  the 
weight  of  the  pack  to  depend  from  one  shoulder 
and,  with  lightning  quickness,  thrust  the  left  arm 
through  the  second  loop.  The  settling  of  the  sack 
had  the  expected  pull  and  he  held  fast.  He  shut  his 
eyes,  breathed  as  deep  as  he  dared,  and  said :  "Thank 
God!"  Then  suddenly,  sweeping  over  him  as  the 
realization  of  a  thing  for  which  he  was  totally  un- 
prepared, came  the  thought  that  he  must  retrace 
his  way;  seek  with  his  feet  for  the  invisible  foot- 
rests,  go  down  with  arms  extended  and  gripping 
hands,  and  the  added  weight  upon  his  back.  The 
thing  was  impossible!  He  had  not  been  climbing 
for  twenty  years  in  vain.  He  knew  that  with 
infinite  labor  and  pain  the  ascent  was  possible, 
where  sometimes  the  descent  meant  certain  death. 
How  had  he  ever  been  so  insensate  as  to  suppose 
he  could  do  what  his  knowledge  of  the  mountain 
told  him  very  clearly  he  could  not  do!  ...  A  genuine 
trembling  seized  him,  and  he  felt  the  sweat  drops 
forming  upon  his  forehead.  Motionless,  he  stood, 
and  the  certainty  that  he  must  drop  and  die,  or  live 
on,  a  broken  cripple,  paralized  his  whole  frame.  He 
clung  there  shaking  so  that  the  leaves  moved  and 
trembled  under  his  clutch.  Then  the  lilting  refrain 
of  one  of  those  songs  of  France,  drifted,  mocking 
through  his  brain. 

"What's  the  use  of  worrying?     it  never  was 

worth  while, 
Just  pack  up  your  troubles  in  your  old  kit-bag, 
And  smile,  smile,  smile!"  . . . 

He  lifted  his  head  and  began  to  feel  for  the  next 
foot-rest.  God  would  not  let  him  die.  Mary  needed 
him  and  the  kid  needed  him.  The  priest  was  up 
there  in  the  path,  praying  for  him.  And  this  that 
he  bore  upon  his  back  was  a  something  that  the  very 
angels  of  heaven  would  help  him  to  sustain."  How 
hard  the  little  ledges  were  to  find! . . .  but  slow  does 


it,  and  easy  does  it . . .  There  is  another!  No,  wrong 
guess,  he  can't  get  his  foot  on  that.  Ah,  yes,  there 
it  is!  Now  another. . .  Where  have  they  all  gone  to? 
He  found  a  few,  and  made  a  few,  and  he  got  up  by 
them.  Now  they  have  all  disappeared  and  he  finds 
nothing.  Once  more  he  pauses  and  his  foot  gropes. 
This  time  he  cannot  find  it.  And  his  arms  are  so 
tired,  the  muscles  "ache  like  toothache."  It  is  no 
use;  he  might  as  well  give  up;  the  thing  is  impossi- 
ble. And  the  agony  of  his  mind  is  terrible  as  he 
realizes  that  the  measure  of  his  life  will  be  the 
few  short  moments  he  is  able  to  hang  there  cramped 
and  straining.  Desperately  he  clings.  And  then, 
comforting  him,  comes  the  remembrance  of  a  pious 
mother's  teaching  in  childhood.  When  he  was  in 
any  trouble  or  difficulty  he  must  always  say  a  "Hail 
Mary"  and  the  holy  Mother  of  God  would  infallibly 
help  him.  He  tried  it  now,  with  closed  eyes,  his 
face  against  the  stone.  And  then  once  more  reached 
out  and  felt,  and  felt,  until  his  foot  found  the 
infinitesimal  projection.  He  breathed  a  deep  sigh 
and  tried  once  more.  "Might  as  well  die  moving," 
the  thought  made  him  quite  cheerful,  "Sure,  might 
as  well  die  moving!"  and  found  another  cranny. 

Suddenly,  something  struck  him  from  above. 
He  recoiled  in  horror,  almost  losing  his  footing,  a 
something  dangling  and  serpentine  like  a  snake  that 
is  darting  to  bite.  Then  he  looked  again  and  laugh- 
ter came  to  his  lips.  "O  you  man  up  there,  God 
bless  and  love  you!" 

It  was  the  rope.  The  watcher  had  found  him  at 
last  and  understood.  With  a  gasp  of  relief,  the 
young  man  laid  hold  of  it.  First  he  secured  it 
around  his  chest  under  his  arms,  then  began  to  haul 
himself  up  by  its  assistance,  seeking  every  ledge, 
every  crevice  as  before,  to  plant  his  feet;  but 
mounting  hand-over-hand,  with  all  his  weight  upon 
the  rope.  From  time  to  time,  he  felt  a  strong  pull 
so  that  he  knew  the  man  above  was  trying  to  hoist 
him,  but  he  was  too  much  accustomed  to  help  him- 
self to  allow  any  other  person  to  bear  the  burden  of 
succoring  him  unasssisted.  Even  at  the  best,  the 
ascent  seemed  very  long  and  very  slow,  that  inevi- 
table face  of  granite,  passing,  passing,  in  dread 
monotony  before  his  face.  Would  it  never  end? 
Then  he  raised  his  eyes  once  more,  and,  just  above 
him,  was  the  lip  of  the  chasm.  At  that  point  a  sud- 
den fear  seized  him  that  his  rescuer  would  let  go, 
and  that  he  would  plunge  into  the  abyss.  He  held 
his  breath,  so  imminent,  so  deadly  the  danger 
seemed.  Perhaps  at  the  very  last,  the  rope  sawing 
over  the  sharp  edge  of  the  rock  would  break. .  . . 
But  no,  it  is  his  own  right  hand  that  reaches  out, 
straining  to  clutch  the  brink,  and  the  left  follows  it; 
and  he  is  in  the  act  of  hauling  himself  up  over  the 
edge,  when  those  two  strong  arms  enfold  him  and 
lift  him  bodily  in  an  embrace  that  crushes  him 
against  the  heaving  chest.  "Boy,  boy  .  . .  you  are 
hurt ..  your  head  is  bleeding!  My  God,  why  did  I 
let  you  do  it."  . .  . 

....  "Tis  nothing  .  .  skin  .  . ."    But  for  a  moment 


THE  f  SIGN 


he  lies  flat  upon  the  ground  breathing  hard,  like  a 
swimmer  that  is  exhausted,  and  glad  to  close  his 
eyes. 

The  older  man  kneels  to  wipe  those  dark 
streaks  from  the  brow  and  cheek.  Then,  suddenly, 
with  the  joy  of  a  child,  the  mountaineer  sits  up. 
"Here  it  is,  Father".  .  he  cries,  "your  chalice  . . .  I've 
got  it!".  ..And  folding  his  arms  about  the  shabby 
pack,  he  presses  it  close  against  his  heart .  .  ."Your 
chalice — that  has  held  the  Blood  of  Christ." 

Still  kneeling,  with  his  two  knees  in  the  snow, 
the  missionary  drew  the  bundle  gently  away  from 
those  tense  hands,  spread  over  it  so  eagerly  every 
sinew  in  them  was  taut.  "Give  it  up  to  the  priest 
now,  Dermot,  though  God  knows,  he  is  not  more 
worthy  than  you  to  carry  it;  but  the  Blessed  Sacra- 


ment is  inside  the  pack.  I  had  not  told  you :  I  did 
not  dare  to  tell  you.  Father  Francis  advised  me  to 
take  it  for  the  sick  he  frequently  finds  upon  his  long 
rounds,  and  I  had  it  around  my  neck  as  usual  in  the 
burse.  The  string  broke  the  other  day  when  we 
were  struggling  with  the  machine  in  the  mud,  and 
I  almost  lost  it.  So  I  put  it  inside  the  valise  think- 
ing it  would  be  safer.  That  is  what  you  brought  up 
that  frightful  wall."  Then  he  laid  his  hand  upon 
the  wounded  head  and  the  young  man  saw,  in  the 
depths  of  the  grey  eyes,  the  unspeakable  gratitude 
of  the  priest  for  reverence  shown  his  Eucharistic 
Lord. — "Boy,  you  can  remember  all  your  days,  and 
when  you  are  dying  you  can  remember,  that  once 
you  risked  your  life  for  the  sake  of  a  Mass  kit . . . 
and  God  put  the  Body  of  Christ  into  your  hands." 


Txtfo  Timely   Antidotes 


A    Clean    Heart 


XN  the  recent  drive  for  the  Catholic  press 
the  need  of  an  antidote  against  misrepre- 
sentation and  calumny  was  emphasized. 
As  great  is  the  need,  if  not  greater,  of  an 
antidote  against  the  bare-faced  immorality  that 
boldly  stares  from  out  the  printed  page.  If  through 
the  campaign  of  vilification  some  non-Catholics  are 
kept  out  of  the  Church,  many  who  are  already  within 
her  fold  are  exposed  to  the  loss  of  faith  by  the 
rampant  immorality  which  is  photographed  and 
published  in  our  daily  prints. 

A  metropolitan  daily  carries  the  emblazoned 
boast:  "The  Newspaper  of  a  Million  Homes." 
Can  it  be  that  this  enormous  circulation  has  been  at- 
tained through  a  correct  appraisal  of  the  public  taste 
by  its  pandering  editors?  Are  we  to  conclude  that 
the  reading  public  is  for  the  most  part  composed 
of    morbid    sensualists    and    avid    sensationalists? 


Rather,  we  should  affirm  that  in  their  feverish 
ambition  to  build-up  and  maintain  a  huge  circulation 
the  editors  have  wantonly  betrayed  a  sacred  trust 
by  deliberately  and  unblushingly  catering  to  all 
that  is  base  in  human  nature.  To  this  purpose,  in- 
genious and  fake  illustrations  flaunt  the  religion  and 
fire  the  inflammable  imagination  of  the  reader. 

Lest  this  all  too  crude  violation  of  public  pro- 
priety and  decency  should  defeat  their  purpose,  the 
editors  intersperse  their  pages  with  some  valuable 
information  and  instructive  articles,  the  while  they 
justify  the  'rot'  by  an  appeal  to  high-sounding  mo- 
tives. 

The  clean-minded  reader  will  not  be  deceived 
by  such  an  appeal.  The  Catholic  will  remember 
that  "the  carnal  man  perceives  not  the  things  that 
are  of  God,"  and  that  only  "the  clean  of  heart  shall 
see  God." 


The   Sacred  Thirst 


'N  American  audience  would  be  much  start- 
led to-day  on  hearing  a  preacher  announce  a 
sermon  on  temperance.  Why  try  to  interest 
•them  in  the  'dead  and  buried'?  Has  not 
the  parching  Volstead  Act  succeeded  where  moral- 
ists for  ages  failed?  The  familiar  talk  on  tem- 
perance may  no  longer  be  heard  in  the  land,  but  that 
has  not  come  about  through  the  conviction  that  the 
abuse  of  drink  has  been  destroyed.  Prohibition  has 
been  on  trial  and  furnishes  another  proof  of  the 
homely  truth  that  you  cannot  legislate  men  into 
virtue.  To  be  effective,  Prohibition  must  not  over- 
look the  personal  equation.  Its  steam-roller  method 
and  slashing  decree  open  the  way  to  a  sanctimonious 
hypocrisy  and  pussy-foot  subterfuge.  It  brandished 
its  club  and,  forsooth,  bar-lights  went  out,  mirrors 
and  brass-rails  were  scrapped.  But,  alas!,  it  did  not 
extinguish  the  thirst  or  eradicate  the  craving.    What 


the  Volstead  Act  buried  with  official  pomp, 
avaricious  cunning  uncerimoniously  digs  up.  You 
can  whip  the  huge  elephant  into  servility,  for  the 
Almighty  has  not  endowed  him  with  the  faculty 
into  servility  for  the  Almighty  has  not  endowed  him 
with  the  faculty  of  free-will  and  choice.  It  is  just 
this  faculty  in  man  which  must  be  approached  and 
which  Prohibition  evidently  fails  to  consider.  Often- 
times men,  from  selfish  motives,  or  in  the  consequent 
disgust  of  intemperance,  have  resolutely  sworn-off. 
The  more  compelling  are  the  religious  motives — the 
sinfulness,  the  scandalous  example,  the  crushing 
injustice  of  intemperance.  More  powerful  than  all 
else  to  the  Christian  should  be  appeal  of  the  Cruci- 
fied. How  many  a  weak  mortal  has  at  last  strength- 
ened his  palsied  will  and  found  peace  by  pleadging 
himself  to  total  abstinence  in  honor  of  the  Sacred 
Thirst! 


Impressions   of  a   Present-Da}?   Calvarj) 


ff 


BERNARDIME    DUSCH.    C.  P. 


UMORS  of  the  wonders  occurring  at 
Limpias  had  reached  us  before  we  set 
sail,  in  April  1920,  on  our  maiden 
voyage  to  the  Eternal  City;  ample  and 
graphic  accounts  were  given  us  while 
we  were  in  Rome  by  a  party  of  Spanish  priests  who 
had  actually  witnessed  them.  These  thrilling  tales 
— no  longer  to  be  called  in  question — fired  us  with 
the  ambition  to  see  for  ourselves  this  new  evidence 
of  God's  immediate  dealings  with  men. 

So,  toward  nightfall  on  June  23,  two  months 
later,  the  train  from  Bilbao  brought  us  to  Limpias, 
a  village  of  about  fifteen  hundred  inhabitants, 
charmingly  situated  on  the  northern  coast  of  Spain. 
No  throbbing  industries  pulsate  within  its  drowsy 
limits.  Hidden  away  among  the  spurs  of  the 
Pyrenees,  this  village,  until  but  yesterday,  was 
unheralded  and  unknown.  We  were  not  surprised  on 
our  arrival  to  find  the  spot  so  unpretentious.  Jesus, 
the  Carpenter's  Son  of  Nazareth,  is  wont,  when  He 
has  riches  to  disburse,  to  seek  out  places  of  no  ac- 
count and  shunned  of  men,  that  so  His  mercies 
may  shine  forth  the  more.  Least  of  the  villages  of 
the  Spanish  domain,  from  out  of  Limpias  were  to 
come  marvels  unsurpassed  in  the  annals  of  Chris- 
tendom. Lifted  out  of  her  lowliness,  she  was  to  be 
crowned  with  an  aureola  of  glory,  and  to  command 
the  reverence  of  the  world. 

As  the  village  boasts  of  no  hotel,  we  arranged 
for  a  night's  lodging  in  a  private  dwelling,  after 
which  we  made  our  way  without  delay  to  the  church, 
there  to  do  homage  to  the  far-famed  "El  Santo 
Christo  de  la  Agonia" — the  Crucifix  which  has 
brought  world-renown  to  this  secluded  hamlet.  The 
church,  which  is  dedicated  to  St.  Peter,  serves  as 
parish  church  for  the  neighboring  district.  The 
present  structure,  according  to  best  calculation,  was 
erected  in  the  fifteenth  century.  It  stands  at  a 
distance  from  the  village  on  a  hillside;  encircling 
trees  and  shrubs  relieve  an  unattractive  exterior. 

Within  the  church  are  five  wooden  alters  each 
delicately  carved  and  heavily  guilded.  In  a  niche 
over  the  tabernacle  on  the  high  alter  is  a  Calvary 
group,  also  wrought  in  wood,  depicting  the  Sorrowful 
Mother  and  St.  John  standing  on  either  side  of  a 
cross,  which  rises  to  a  height  of  more  than  eight 
feet,  whereon  hangs  the  riven  body  of  the  Savior. 
This  is  the  miraculous  Crucifix, — the  cynosure  of 
every  eye.  The  corpus  is  six  feet  in  length  and 
portrays  the  Crucified  in  the  throes  of  lingering 
death.  The  head  is  thrown  back,  the  eyes  are 
raised  heavenward,  the  whole  telling  of  mortal 
anguish  and  of  intense  prayerful  pleading.  To  such 
as  are  of  the  Faith,  it  is  enough  to  behold  this 
Crucifix  to  have  the  heart  melt  as  wax.  It  may  well 
be  that  the  more  than  human  expression  of  the 
Sacred   Countenance   is    in   some   way   due   to   the 


many  extraordinary  transformations  it  has  under- 
gone during  the  last  two  years. 

The  only  trustworthy  information  concerning  the 
origin  of  this  Crucfix  is,  that  previous  to  its  being 
erected  in  the  church  of  Limpias,  it  was  in  the 
possession  of  a  merchant  of  Cadiz,  a  city  in  the 
south  of  Spain,  where  it  adorned  his  domestic 
chapel.  Certain  priests  and  bishops,  chancing  to 
come  upon  the  Crucifix,  thought  that  it  ought  to  be 
venerated  in  a  public  church.  The  owner,  acting 
upon  this  pious  suggestion,  determined  to  present 
it  to  the  parish  church  of  his  native  town,  Limpias; 
whither  it  was  transferred  in  1749,  one  hundred 
and  seventy  years  before  the  first  miraculous  mani- 
festation in  1919.  Of  the  artist  who  executed  this 
exquisite  work  nothing  authentic  is  known.  Many 
legends  there  are,  indeed,  clinging  to  this  now  cele- 
brated antique,  but  these  cannot  be  substantiated 
by  historical  proof.  For  those  one  hundred  and 
seventy  years  it  reposed,  shrouded  in  obscurity,  in 
the  little  church  of  St.  Peter,  without  attracting  more 
attention  than  do  the  other  beautiful  and  realistic 
figures  of  the  Crucified  of  which  Spain  has  many. 
But  since  that  eventful  March  30,  1919,  when  the 
Sacred  Countenance  became,  for  the  first  time,  a 
living  image  of  Christ's  agony,  it  has  been  the  focus 
of  an  ever-widening  interest. 

Remarkable  manifestations  on  the  part  of  the 
Crucifix  have  been  accompanied  by  still  more  re- 
markable effects  worked  in  the  consciences  of  be- 
holders. A  new  spirit  of  fervor  has  freshened  in 
the  souls  of  the  once  tepid  inhabitants,  and  the 
Holy  Christ  of  the  Agony  is  become  the  axis 
around  which  the  spiritual  life  of  the  village  now 
revolves.  Grace  has  fallen  plentifully  upon  the 
constantly  increasing  influx  of  visitors  who  have 
sought  out  this  remote  shrine;  both  upon  such  as 
were  guided  hither  by  a  propulsive  faith,  and  who 
have  gazed  with  wistful  gratitude  upon  the  Holy 
Christ,  as  likewise  upon  sinful  calloused  souls  whom 
an  idle  curiosity  or  some  less  worthy  motive  has 
brought  within  the  transforming  influence  of  the 
wondrous  Crucifix.  Instinctively  men  feel  that 
effects,  so  multitudinous  and  astounding  as  are 
authoritatively  attributed  to  the  Lympian  Crucifix, 
are  not  due  to  any  innate  worth  had  by  a  mere 
inanimate  figure,  however  inspiring  in  its  conception 
or  artistic  in  its  workmanship  such  an  object  may 
be,  but  must  inevitably  emanate  from  some  higher 
source. 

ON  entering  the  church  we  knelt  for  fome 
little  time  before  the  main  altar  absorbed 
in  prayerful  contemplation  of  the  most 
expressive  Crucifix  that  it  has  ever  been 
our  privilege  to  gaze  upon.  While  kneeling  thus, 
we  were  prenetrated  with  an  unwonted  feeling  of 
awe  and  reverence  mingled  with  deep  confidence. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


A  consciousness  of  a  very  close  proximity  to  the 
supernatural  rested  upon  us. 

Having  satisfied  our  devotion,  we  entered  the 
sacristy  to  arrange  for  mass  on  the  morrow.  Here 
we  met  the  village  pastor,  Don  Eduardo  Miqueli 
Gonzalez,  a  n 
aged  priest  of 
over  seventy 
years.  He  re- 
ceived us  with 
true  Spanish 
cordiality  and 
very  graciously 
acceded  to  our 
long  cherished 
desire  to  say 
mass  at  the 
high  altar — one 
of  us  at  five 
o'clock,  the 
other  later.  It 
fell  to  my  lot  to 
say  the  early 
mass.  The  next 
morning  I  of- 
fered the  Holy 
Sacrifice  at  the 
shrine  but  saw 
nothing  unusu- 
al. Twelve  or 
fifteen  Vincen- 
t  i  a  n  Fathers 
from  a  nearby 
college  follow- 
ed me,  cele- 
brating at  the 
various  altars. 
About  eight 
thirty  o'clock  a 
pilgrimmage  of 
five  hundred 
arrived  from 
Barcelona 
among  whom 
were  some 
thirty  priests. 
They  likewise 
said  mass,  the 
pilgrims  receiv- 
ing Holy  Com- 
munion. A  t 
eleven    o'clock 

a  solemn  high  miraculous  CRt 

mass  began. 

After  the  gospel  one  of  the  visiting  priests  ascended 
the  pulpit  and  addressed  the  assembled  pilgrims. 
Towards  the  close  of  the  sermon  the  preacher  turned 
to  the  Crucifix,  beseeching  a  blessing  on  the  con- 
gregation and  on  the  nation.  It  was  during  this 
prayer  that  many  of  the  faithful  present  distinctly 
observed  the  mysterious  phenomenon.     I  was  not 


present  at  the  time,  but  was  afterwards  informed 
that  very  many  saw  the  head  and  eyes  of  the  Christ 
moving  as  though  in  agony,  and  that  many  of  them 
swooned  away,  while  others  cried  out  for  mercy, 
all  being  thrilled  with  a  strange  emotion.  Short- 
ly after  the 
solemn  mass 
was  over,  I  met 
one  of  the 
priests  who  had 
witnessed  the 
miracle.  H  e 
was  visibly 
agitated,  and 
still  so  over- 
wrought as  to 
be  scarcely  a- 
ble  to  narrate 
what  he  had 
seen. 

Lunch  over, 
we  returned  a- 
g  a  i  n  to  the 
church.  The 
pilgrims  were 
reciting  in  com- 
mon the  rosary 
and  litanies, 
and  occasional- 
l  y  singing 
hymns.  At  two 
o'clock,  as  ac- 
curately as  I 
can  recall, 
there  was  a 
sudden,  un- 
looked  for 
commotion  i  n 
the  congrega- 
tion. The  eyes 
of  the  figure 
were  moving  to 
and  fro.  A 
salvo  of  aston- 
ishment sound- 
ed throughout 
the  church. 
This  time,  I 
too,  saw  the 
wonder.  It  is 
quite  impossi- 
ble for  me  to 
CIFix   of  UMPIAS  analyse  fully 

the  emotions  I 
then  experienced.  I  felt  a  great  longing  steal  upon 
me  that  the  whole  world  might  see  what  I  saw,  and 
might  come  to  realize,  as  I  then  realized,  the  ach- 
ing craving  of  the  Crucified  that  all  men  might  be- 
lieve in  His  immeasureable  love  for  them  and 
might  profit  by  the  fruits  of  His  redeeming  sacrifice. 
The  movement  of  the  eyes  lasted  for  a  considerable 


THE  +  SIGN 


spectacle 


period  and  was  witnessed  by  most  of  the  pilgrims 
present,  the  storm  of  whose  vehemently  agitated 
emotions  was  long  in  subsiding.  At  length,  in  mid- 
afternoon,  we  quitted  the  scene  of  this  soul-stirring 
spectacle  to  continue  on  our  journey. 

'Y  fellow-traveler,  the  Very  Reverend  Father 
Clement  Lee,  C.  P.,  of  Holy  Cross  Pre- 
paratory College,  Dunkirk,  N.  Y.,  confirms 
my  experience  in  the  following  account. 
"I  can  never  describe  adaquately  my  feelings 
and  emotions  as  I  beheld  that  wooden  Crucifix 
hanging  over  the  main  altar 
transformed  suddenly  into 
the  living,  breathing,  life- 
like, body  of  my  Crucified 
Saviour.  All  I  can  do  is  to 
relate,  simply  and  truth- 
fully, what  I  beheld  with 
my  bodily  eyes.  I  arrived 
at  Limpias  about  five 
o'clock  one  Thursday  even- 
ing in  June,  1920.  I  went 
immediately  to  the  church 
and  saw  the  crucifix.  There 
was  nothing  out  of  the 
ordinary  about  it — just  a 
life-size  figure  of  Our  Lord 
on  the  Cross,  as  may  be 
seen  in  many  of  our 
churches  in  this  country. 
It  hangs  on  the  wall  directly 
over  the  main  altar.  I 
prayed  before  it  for  a  long 
time  that  evening  and 
watched  it  very  closely,  but 
observed  no  movement  of 
any  kind.  Next  morning  I 
had  the  privilege  of  cele- 
brating Holy  Mass  beneath 
it  and  remained  in  the 
church  afterwards  to  make 
my  thanksgiving.  During 
this  time  the  crucifix,  while 
satisfying  my  devotion,  for 

it  is  very  beautiful  to  look  at,  remained  a  lifeless 
image.  About  nine  o'clock  a  pilgrimage  arrived 
from  Barcelona.  There  were  about  three  hundred 
pilgrims.  They  marched  in  solemn  procession  from 
the  railroad-station  to  the  church.  Nearly  all  were 
fasting,  though  they  had  left  Bilboa,  where  they  had 
put  up  for  the  night,  that  morning  at  six  o'clock. 
Some  of  the  priests  in  the  party  went  to  the  several 
confessionals  scattered  throughout  the  church  and 
heard  confessions;  others  began  the  celebration  of 
Holy  Mass  at  the  side  altars.  A  priest  at  the  main 
altar  gave  Holy  Communion  and  I  observed  that 
nearly  all  the  pilgrims  received  the  Sacred  Host. 
I  scarcely  took  my  eyes  from  the  crucifix  during  all 
this  time  and  the  pilgrims  too  were  all  gazing 
intently  at  it,  but  nothing  extraordinary  took  place. 
The  crucifix  was  motionless.     The  solemn  pilgrim- 


FUIX    FACE    VIEW 


age  mass  began  at  eleven  o'clock.  The  little  church 
was  crowded  to  the  doors.  The  priests,  about 
twenty  in  all,  were  in  the  sanctuary.  Solemn  Mass 
began  and  went  on  as  usual.  After  the  first  Gospel 
a  priest  ascended  the  pulpit  and  delivered  the 
sermon  in  Spanish.  I  could  not  understand  what 
he  was  saying,  but  I  could  see  that  his  words  were 
making  a  deep  impression  on  his  auditors.  Pres- 
ently I  saw  him  turn  abruptly  in  the  pulpit,  and  with 
outstretched  arms,  make  an  appeal  to  the  crucifix. 
At  once  there  was  a  great  commotion  in  the  church. 
Shouts  and  shrieks  seemed 
to  come  from  every  nook 
and  corner  of  the  edifice. 
Something  like  pandemoni- 
um reigned.  I  became  very 
much  frightened,  for  I  did 
not  know  what  was  happen- 
ing. I  could  not  under- 
stand the  cries  of  the  men 
and  women  about  me.  I 
was  too  frightened  to  think 
of  looking  at  the  crucifix 
at  that  time.  I  began  to 
fear  that  in  the  turmoil 
about  me  some  would  be 
seriously  injured.  Some  of 
the  women  fainted.  A  man 
directly  in  front  of  me  stood 
with  his  arms  outstretched, 
frantically  gesticulating  to- 
wards the  crucifix  and  cry- 
ing: "0  Signor!  0  Signor!" 
He  fell  down  in  a  swoon 
and  was  carried  out  by 
some  men.  The  priests  in 
the  sanctuary  stood  up  on 
the  benches  and  tried  to 
quiet  the  people.  After  a 
while  quiet  was  somewhat 
restored.  The  Mass  pro- 
ceeded. I  knelt  down  and 
took  courage  to  look 
towards  the  crucifix.  I 
seemed  to  see  a  vision.  Though  I  was  looking 
directly  at  the  crucifix,  I  have  no  recollection  now 
of  seeing  anything  else  but  the  head.  The  arms, 
feet,  and  trunk  were  not  visible,  or  at  least  I  did  not 
notice  them.  The  head  was  indeed  a  living  head 
and  moved  distinctly  from  side  to  side  very  slowly 
and  deliberately.  Sometimes  I  could  see  the  full 
face  looking  directly  at  me,  then  the  side  view  with 
the  long  flowing  hair.  The  face  was  beautiful  but 
very  pale.  It  was  not  an  angry  face;  the  expression 
was  one  of  intense  sadness.  The  eyes  were  cast 
down  but  not  entirely  closed.  Time  and  again  I 
watched  the  bowed  head  gently  sway  from  right  to 
left,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  it  turned  more  to  the 
right  than  to  the  left.  This  movement  continued 
until  after  the  Elevation  of  the  Mass.  After  that 
the  vision  was  gone,  the  crucifix  hung  before  me  as 


THE  +  SIGN 


motionless  and  lifeless  as  it  had  been  the  evening 
before.  Strange  to  say,  I  did  not  feel  afraid  when 
the  head  was  actually  in  motion.  I  had  a  feeling  of 
calm  and  quiet  contentment  that  I  cannot  very  well 
describe.  It  was  only  after  the  marvel  ceased  that 
I  became  nervous  and  agitated,  when  I  realized  that 
I  had  had  the  special  privilege  of  seeing  the  great 
Miracle  of  Limpias. 

The  picture  of  that  beautiful  face  of  my  Re- 
deemer  will    always   be    deeply   imprinted   on   my 
memory.     May  it  ever  serve  to  make  me  a  better 
Passionist  priest  and  religi- 
ous   and   more    zealous    to 
bring  many  souls  to  the  feet 
of  Jesus  Crucified." 

QHENOMENA, 
such  as  here  de- 
scribed, cannot 
be  easily  gain- 
said. It  was  on  March  30, 
1919,  at  the  close  of  a  mis- 
sion given  by  two  Capuchin 
Fathers,  Anselmo  de  Jalom 
and  Agatangelo  de  San 
Miqueli,  that,  while  an  in- 
struction was  being  given 
by  the  latter,  the  congrega- 
tion was  thrown  into  panic. 
Expressions  of  wonder  and 
amazement  arose  from 
every  side.  From  the  fren- 
zied exclamations  and  fran- 
tic gesticulations  the  prea- 
cher gathered  that  his  au- 
ditors were  convinced  that 
the  Crucifix  over  the  high 
altar  was  agonizing  before 
their  very  eyes.  Persuaded 
that  they  were  the  subjects 
of  an  optical  illusion  he  at- 
:empted  to  calm  them,  but 
in  vain.  Young  and  old 
persisted  in  affirming  that 
the  Figure  upon  the  cross 
had  really  moved,  that  the  head  had  swayed,  and 
that  the  eyes  had  rolled  as  if  in  living  agony.  So 
certain  were  they  of  this  that  later  they  signified 
their  willingness  to  testify  under  oath  to  what  they 
had  seen. 

For  prudent  reasons  the  two  missionaries  as 
well  as  the  pastor  used  every  endeavor  to  cover  the 
facts.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  the  stories 
which  had  begun  to  circulate  throughout  the  dis- 
trict reached  the  sharp  ear  of  the  newspapers  in 
that  locality,  so  that  reporters  came  swiftly  to  un- 
earth material  so  fertile  for  sensational  copy.  The 
resultant  publicity  gave  rise  to  a  stream  of  visitors 
that  gathers  steady  volume  in  its  course.  The 
subsequent  sphinx-like  silence  of  the  Spanish  irre- 
ligious press,  together  with  the  incredulous,  dis- 
cordant voices  of  the  willfully  deaf  and  blind,  could 


PROFILE    VIEW 


not  obstruct  the  ceaseless  onward-flowing  current  of 
public  opinion  which  carries  the  fame  of  Limpias 
unto  remotest  tribes  and  peoples.  Already  Limpias 
is  become  a  household  word,  and  is  held  in  benedic- 
tion by  thousands  of  grateful  pilgrims. 

Manifestations  alike  to  those  which  happened 
during  the  closing  exercises  of  that  memorable  mis- 
sion of  more  than  two  years  ago  have  often  since 
recurred.     These   have   been   avouched   by   simple 
country-folk,  by  lawyers,  by  doctors,  by  scientists, 
by  atheists,  by  leaders  of  secret  societies,  by  those 
of    the    household    of    the 
faith   and   by  such   as  are 
outside   her   pale,   by   men 
high   in   church   and   state; 
in  short,  by  friend  and  foe. 
The  marvels  vary.  The 
corpus,  at  times,  seems  a- 
live,   when   the    spectators 
behold  the  very  pangs   of 
the   dying   Christ.     Again, 
the  sunken  eyes  turn  from 
side  to  side,  now  darting  a 
piercing  look  upon  a  scof- 
fer, now  casting  a  melting 
glance    upon    some    chosen 
soul.        Not     infrequently, 
the      thorn-crowned      head 
oscillates;     from    time    to 
time,      the      cracked      and 
fevered    lips    are    seen    to 
part,  disclosing  the  mouth 
frothed  and  bloody.    Occa- 
sionally, the  ashy  counten- 
ance   takes    on    a    purplish 
tinge,  while  oftentimes  cold 
perspiration     bedews     the 
body,  or  blood  issues  from 
the  open  wounds,  streaking 
the    Sacred    Form.      Such 
heartrending     sights     can- 
not but  elicite  tears.     Un- 
believers   and    sinners    re- 
peatedly   fall    upon    their 
knees  converted,  whilst  robust  men  often  faint  away. 
The  Limpian  Crucifix  presents  certain  unique 
features  which  have  given  rise  to  much  discussion 
and  are  still  an  unsolved  riddle  to  the  most  pain- 
staking investigators  of  the  facts. 

The  manifestitations  are  irregular.  Several 
days  may  pass  during  which  visitors  are  doomed  to 
leave  the  church  disappointed;  at  other  periods,  not 
a  day  will  go  by  without  its  averred  record  of  extra- 
ordinary signs  and  harrowing  scenes.  By  showing 
forth,  on  occasion,  all  its  singular  manifestations 
together,  the  Figure  appears  to  all  present  veritably 
to  live;  or,  mayhap,  this  overwhelming  appeal  is 
reserved  for  one  only,  or  but  few,  among  expectant 
hundreds.  Sometimes,  the  congregation  sees  but 
one  such  manifestation,  perchance,  the  rolling  of  the 


THE  1*  SIGN 


23 


abysmal  eyes,  the  remembrance  of  which  will  haunt 
the  beholder  throughout  life. 

PRUDENT  man  will  naturally  demand 
strong  proof  before  crediting  happenings 
which  transcend  common  experience.  But 
such  a  man  will  not  deny  facts,  such  as  the 
marvels  of  Limpias,  which  stand  upon  irrefutable 
proof. 

A  local  committee,  made  up  of  men  of  recog- 
nized integrity  and  ability,  received  the  sworn  testi- 
mony of  hundreds  of  eye  witnesses,  and  passed 
upon  it  favorably.  Greater  care,  perhaps,  has  never 
been  taken  to  winnow  doubtful  testimony  and  to 
secure  unimpeachable  evidence  than  here.  They 
who  deposed  on  oath,  were,  for  the  most  part,  pro- 
fessional men  having  a  national  reputation.  Some 
there  were  who  had  no  religious  belief  whatsoever; 
others  were  indifferentists ;  while  a  few  were  avowed 
atheists.  A  number  of  them  made  no  secret  of  the 
fact  that  their  coming  to  Limpias  was  motived  by 
cynicism;  but  having  viewed  with  their  own  eyes 
what  they  had  meant  to  impugn,  they  were  forced  to 
avow  that  hearsay  had  fallen  short  of  reality. 

The  Roman  ecclesiastical  court  has  appointed 
a  further  body  of  learned  and  fair-minded  men, 
which  is  at  present  making  formal  investigation  of 
first-hand  witness.  There  is  every  reason  to  think 
that  the  finding  of  this  committee  will  accord  with 
the  impartial  judgment  of  the  first. 

The  fact  of  these  phenomena  is  beyond  cavil. 
The  manner  in  which  they  were  brought  about  is 
still  an  open  question.  A  discussion  on  this  point, 
though  interesting,  would  take  us  too  far  afield,  and 
would  be  out  of  harmony  with  the  scope  of  this 
paper.  The  settlement  in  so  delicate  a  controversy, 
as  to  the  mode  of  these  prodigies,  were  best  left  in 
abeyance  until  the  rightfully  constituted  authorities 
have  determinately  pronounced. 

HOR  the  Almighty  to  choose  a  crucifix  of 
wood  to  make  known  His  power  before 
the  world  is  not  strange  in  Him  Who  put 
a  rod  into  the  hand  of  His  servant,  Moses, 
whereby  mighty  signs  were  wrought  before  all 
Egypt.  What  Providential  design  underlies  these 
present-day  wonders  may  be  conjectured  by  con- 
sidering a  few  incidents  casually  selected  from  a 
well-nigh  exhaustless  store. 

The  good  pastor,  Don  Eduardo  Miqueli,  is  our 
surety  for  the  following  anecdote,  which  first  ap- 
peared in  the  Diario  de  la  Rioja.  Eighteen  young 
women,  dressmakers  of  Santander,  came  one  day  on 
a  pleasure  trip  to  Limpias.  The  day  was  to  be 
spent  in  merry-making  in  a  grove  hardby  the  church. 
A_  dance  was  to  be  held  in  the  evening.  Little  in- 
clined to  piety  at  best,  and  totally  immersed  in  the 
enjoyment  of  the  moment,  the  Miraculous  Crucifix 
worried  these  volatile  young  women  not  at  all.  In 
search  for  a  new  thrill  to  stimulate  their  flagging 
gaiety,   they   betook   themselves   to   the   church   to 


glimpse  the  village  curiosity.  Besides,  to  have  seen 
a  real  miracle  would  bring  such  a  coveted  notoriety. 
Boldly  they  entered  the  church,  and  unabashed  they 
proceeded  to  a  supercilious  scrutiny  of  the  altar- 
piece  Suddenly,  the  Holy  Christ  turns  His 
agonized  eyes  full  upon  them,  and,  presently  four- 
teen of  the  group,  as  if  struck  down  by  an  invisible 
hand,  fall  unconscious  to  the  floor.  On  recovery, 
all  whole-heartedly  pleaded  pardon,  pledging  an 
open  promise  to  forsake  their  loose  and  shallow  life. 
Reluctantly  they  left  the  hallowed  precincts  resolved 
that  henceforth  their  chief  concern  would  be  the 
culture  of  the  soul. 

No  dance  took  place  that  night. 

The  experience  of  Father  Anselmo,  the  Capu- 
chin, during  whose  sermon  the  first  manifestation 
occurred,  is  more  relevant  than  the  former.  For 
over  sixty  days  his  "eyes  were  held"  so  that  his 
credence  in  the  Holy  Christ  was  based  solely  upon 
hearsay  and  what  he  personally  saw  effected  in 
the  lives  of  others.  During  this  time  he  often  visited 
the  parish  church,  for  he  longed,  as  he  himself 
admits,  to  behold  with  his  own  eyes  what  countless 
others  about  him  were  professing  to  have  seen; 
that  so,  to  the  many  questions,  which  quite  naturally 
were  being  daily  put  to  him,  he  might  answer  as 
one  having  authority.  He  resolved,  at  all  hazards, 
to  spend  a  night  alone  in  the  church.  Permission 
to  carry  out  his  design  was  readily  granted  by  the 
parish-priest. 

The  night  of  June  2,  1919,  was  the  time  deter* 
mined  upon.  He  procured  a  ladder  from  the  sacris- 
tan to  the  end  that  should  the  privilege  be  vouch- 
safed him  of  seeing  the  Crucifix  vivified,  he  might 
obliterate,  once  and  for  all,  by  the  closest  possible 
view,  any  trace  of  misgiving  still  lurking  in  his 
mind.  Long  had  he  watched  before  the  electrically 
illuminated  Image,  when,  on  a  sudden,  he  was  aware 
that  the  head  and  eyes  were  in  motion,  bespeaking 
the  heart-rending  anguish  of  the  dying  Christ.  Still 
distrustful  of  self  and  fearing  an  optical  illusion, 
he  viewed  the  figure  from  divers  parts  of  the  church 
and  from  every  angle  the  amazing  spectacle  was 
the  same.  Then,  to  dispel  the  last  lingering  doubt 
as  to  the  actuality  of  what  he  saw,  he  ascended  the 
ladder  to  the  niche  over  the  altar,  and  so  stood  face 
to  face  with  the  animated  form  of  the  Savior  Cruci- 
fied. 

Thus  he  relates  the  sequel.  "I  no  longer  beheld 
the  figure  of  wood,  but  the  living  Christ  in  agony, 
I  felt  as  if  I  myself  were  about  to  pass  away,  and  to 
prevent  my  falling  threw  my  arms  around  the  Savior, 
and  so  remained,  how  long  I  cannot  tell,  in  rapture. 
When  I  came  to  myself,  I  looked  up  once  more  at  the 
sacred  face,  and  could  see  naught  but  the  lifeless 
wood." 

In  the  investigation  held  on  this  event,  Father 
Anselmo  was  asked  to  describe  what  transpired 
whilst  he  was  in  ecstacy.  He  replied  with  frank- 
ness, "There  are  things  which  human  tongue  cannot 
utter."      Questioned    further    as    to    whether    these 


24 


THE  +  SIGN 


wonders  were  to  continue,  he  answered,  "Not  only 
will  these  continue,  but  you  shall  hear  the  Christ 
speak."  Again,  when  the  query  was  put  as  to  the 
significance  of  so  great  marvels,  he  said,  "I  was 
always  under  the  impression  that  they  portended 
some  dire  calamity  with  which  God  was  about  to 
discipline  the  nations  because  of  their  abominations ; 
but  now  I  am  convinced  that  they  are  nothing  more 
than  another  token  of  God's  mercy,  Who  wishes  to 
save  men  despite  their  coldness  and  enmity." 

■^^^^HE  authenticated  list  of  acknowledged 
d  C~\  favors  contains  few  cures  of  bodily  ills, 
^L  J  but  the  many  spiritual  blessings  accorded, 
^^^  prove  that  the  purpose  disclosed  by  the 
Capuchin  missionary  is  being  luxuriantly  attained. 
Hardened  hearts  are  touched;  the  spark  of  faith 
falls  into  unbelieving  minds,  while  the  dying 
embers  of  languid  faith  rekindle  into  a  brightening 
flame;  freethinkers  are  metamorphosed  into  ardent 
apostles  of  the  Crucified;  they  who  come  to  scoff, 
remain  to  pray. 

"By  their  fruits  you  shall  know  them."  "Every 
good  tree  bringeth  forth  good  fruit,  and  the  evil  tree 
bringeth  forth  evil  fruit."  This  Christ-given  criter- 
ion may  be  applied  with  the  same  persuasive  force 


to  the  occurrences  at  Limpias  as  when  applied  by 
the  Master  to  the  moral  life  of  individuals.  No 
daring  fraud,  no  deliberate  deceit,  no  fervid  imagi- 
nation, no  unhinged  brain,  no  optical  illusion,  can 
account  for  transformations  so  radical  as  are  effect- 
ed today  at  Limpias.  Indeed,  the  finger  of  God  is 
here! 

At  a  time  when  the  nations  would  get  rid  of 
Christ  Crucified  and  treat  the  doctrine  of  the  Cross 
as  a  worn-out  legend;  when  Governments,  inflamed 
by  a  positive  hatred  of  Him,  are  striving  to  blot  out 
His  very  memory;  when  many  of  His  professed 
followers  are  tempted  to  think  it  the  part  of  pru- 
dence to  cloak  their  allegiance  to  Him;  it  would 
seem  that  Christ  Himself  has  come  back,  not  in 
person,  but  through  a  lifeless  figure,  to  preach  to 
a  gross  generation  the  essential  lessons  of  self- 
abnegation  and  just  dealing;  to  reveal  anew  to  for- 
getful men  the  transcendent  love  that  bound  Him 
to  a  tree;  to  bruit  the  Cross,  to-day  as  of  old,  the 
Power  of  God  and  the  Wisdom  of  God. 

Persuasive  mystery  enveloped  the  Cross  on 
Calvary.  May  the  kindred  mystery  of  the  Limpian 
Crucifix  fit  individuals  and  nations  for  the  saving 
graces  of  the  Crucified! 


Much  has  been  written  about  the  Crucifix  of  Limpias.  This  article  from  the  pen  of  an 
American  priest  who  visited  Spain  with  the  sole  purpose  of  studying  the  Crucifix,  will,  we  trust, 
prove  interesting  to  our  readers.  We  are  in  receipt  of  a  letter  under  date  of  May  10,  from  the 
Rector  of  the  Passionist  Monastery  of  Santander,  a  short  distance  from  Limpias,  in  which  he 
writes  "On  the  eighth  of  this  month  Limpias  was  visited  by  a  pilgrimage  of  612  persons,  more 
than  200  of  whom  saw  the  movement  of  the  head  and  eyes  and  also  the  agony  of  Christ  on  the 
cross." — Editors. 


Resignation 


COLMAN  LADD 


Were  God  a  ruthless  reaper 

Rushing  through  the  world, 
By  whom  both  weed  and  flower 

Beneath  his  scythe  were  hurled, 

Then  might  we  stand  and  question 

His  purblind  fierce  decree, 
And  shun  it  with  defiance 

Or  bear  it  mockingly. 

But  He  who  clothes  the  lily 
And  marks  the  sparrow's  fall, 

Who  midst  all  earth's  full,  loud  lament, 
Hears  e'en  the  feeblest  call, 


He  bids  us  come  in  spring-time 
Or  in  our  full-spent  years, 

By  long  decline  or  sudden  blow, 
Despite  our  present  tears. 

Were  God  to  heed  the  sorrow 

Of  parent  and  of  child, 
We  reck  not  what  He'd  save  us  for 

Amid  the  tempest  wild. 

Then,  let  us  bide  the  morning, 
When,  wakened  from  this  spell, 

We'll  stand  together  in  God's  light 
And  tell  how  all  went  well  . 


Were  God  the  world  to  govern, 
Just  by  His  children's  whim. 

Oh,  how  the  wreck  of  life  and  love 
Would  teach  us  to  trust  Him! 


Yourself  and   the    Monies 


Anselm  Secor 


"T  night,  in  the  theatre  district  of  any 
large  city,  one's  eyes  are  assailed  by  a 
brilliance  wonderful  to  behold.  Lights 
of  every  kind  abound,  and  more  than 
abound: — lights  that  twinkle  invitingly; 
lights  that  spell  names  and  do  acrobatic  feats  and 
race  in  dizzy  circles  overhead;  lights  that  glitter 
with  a  splendor  outshining  the  stars  and  rivalling 
the  sun;  lights  that  emulate  the  rainbow  in  prismatic 
effect,  and  burst  into  bombs  of  color  as  gorgeous  as 
any  pyrotechnic  display.  All  this  energy  of  effort 
is  for  the  purpose  of  calling  our  attention  to  the  fact 
that  some  screen  celebrity  or  other  is  depicting  love 
or  adventure,  or  tearing  an  emotion  to  tatters  on  the 
celluloid  strip  which  ingenious  mankind  has  endow- 
ed with  life. 

Do  the  lights  succeed  ?  It  is  not  hard  to  find  an 
answer.  Watch  the  crowds  as  they  scan,  with  keen 
interest,  the  gaudy  posters  outside  the  door  of  the 
theatre;  observe  the  long  line  of  motor-cars  parked 
for  blocks  around  the  neighborhood ;  see  the  throngs 
wending  their  way  past  the  urbane  doorkeeper,  to 
settle  themselves  in  the  darkened  hall  for  an  hour 
in  the  land  of  make-believe, — and  you  have  the  best 
kind  of  evidence  of  the  popularity  of  the  movies. 

The  development  of  the  motion-picture  is  one 
of  the  marvels  of  modern  industry.  Commencing 
in  the  crudest  way,  with  disconnected  episodes  as 
its  offering  and  vacant  stores  as  its  places  of  exhi- 
bition, it  has  grown,  with  astonishing  rapidity  into 
an  attraction  ranking  among  the  foremost,  both  in 
size  and  in  hold  upon  the  public  interest.  Its  capital 
runs  into  the  hundreds  of  millions;  its  popular 
artists  receive  enormous  salaries;  its  performances 
play,  night  after  night,  to  packed  audiences;  its 
theatres,  long  since  discarding  the  humble  nickelo- 
deons of  former  days,  now  rival,  both  in  size  and  in 
splendor,  even  the  most  elaborate  of  legitimate 
playhouses. 

And  how  fascinating  the  pictures  are!  Pictures 
always  attract;  but  when  they  are  cunningly 
blended  so  as  produce  life  and  action,  the  appeal 
is  intensified  a  hundredfold.  They  have  a  variety 
and  flexibility  impossible  in  the  living  performance, 
and  consequently,  even  though  deprived  of  the  sup- 
port of  the  spoken  word,  they  can  produce  effects 
which  are  the  envy  and  despair  of  the  stage.  The 
wide  range  of  topics  is  another  source  of  their  at- 
tractiveness. The  motion-pictures  vivify  the  dry 
chronicles  of  past  centuries,  and  call  forth  from  their 
musty  pages  the  great  characters  who  have  left 
their  imprint  on  the  history  of  the  world.  They 
present  before  us  the  mask-like  face  of  Lincoln, 
seamed  with  the  nation's  sorrows;  they  summon 
Napoleon  and  Washington  and  Dante  and  Caesar 
into  our  presence;  they  re-enact  the  great  events  of 


dead  ages,  unrolling,  with  stately  pageant,  the  bat- 
tles and  conquests  and  discoveries  of  times  long 
since  passed  away.  They  call  forth  from  the  pages 
of  fiction,  the  immortal  creations  of  the  classic 
authors.  John  Silver  leers  at  you  even  more  cunning- 
ly from  the  screen  than  he  does  from  Stevenson's 
thrilling  pages;  Oliver  Twist  and  Little  Nell  unfold 
their  pathetic  tale;  Huck  Finn,  the  mischievous,  acts 
out  the  various  episodes  of  his  adventurous  career; 
the  fairies  and  gnomes  and  giants,  so  dear  to  the 
fancy  of  childhood,  disport  before  your  eyes : — in  a 
word,  the  pictures  often  improve  on  the  original,  and 
present  the  story  more  concisely,  more  vividly,  more 
appealing  than  it  is  told  on  the  printed  page. 

They  bring  the  great  world  before  our  eyes, 
showing  us  the  wonders  of  nature,  and  the  habits 
of  peoples  of  far  distant  lands.  We  can  see  on  the 
screen  the  silver  beauty  of  the  lakes  of  Killarney, 
or  watch  some  nimble-footed  South-Sea  Islander 
climb  a  cocoanut  tree,  or  view  the  impressive  cere- 
monies of  St.  Peter's,  or  see  the  patched,  fin-like 
sails  of  the  sampans  navigating  the  yellow  waters 
of  the  Yangtze  Kiang.  Important  happenings,  great 
catastrophes,  noteworthy  events, — all  these  are 
eagerly  gathered  from  the  farthest  parts  of  the  earth, 
sometimes  at  risk  of  life  itself,  and  reproduced  with 
a  fidelity  of  detail  which  is  the  next  thing  to  witness- 
ing the  actual  occurence.  When  we  consider  these 
facts,  it  does  not  seem  strange  that  the  silent  drama 
should  have  taken  such  a  strong  hold  on  the  popular 
fancy. 

DEARLY  every  great  achievement  has  had 
the  misfortune  of  being  seized  upon  by 
tainted  hands  as  a  means  of  unscrupulous 
enrichment.  Thus  perverted,  its  very 
power  makes  it  all  the  more  dangerous.  Such, 
evidently,  is  the  case  with  the  motion  pictures  and 
one  need  not  be  a  sour  and  meddlesome  alarmist 
to  relize  this  fact  only  too  keenly.  Honest  observa- 
tion can  easily  see  that  a  mighty  force  for  good  has 
been  perverted  by  conscienceless  producers, — and 
this  with  an  influence  all  the  greater  because  so 
alluring.  As  presented  today,  the  movies  are  a 
menace,  rather  than  a  blessing.  The  good  film  is 
the  exception,  not  the  rule :  and  the  majority  of 
productions  which  are  being  let  loose  on  the  public 
set  before  their  audience  a  type  of  picture  which  is 
debasing  to  a  deplorable  extent. 

A  casual  scanning  of  the  announcements  in  the 
daily  papers  serves  to  furnish  clear  evidence  of 
this  fact.  The  general  theme  of  them  all  seems  to 
be  the  sex-topic :  and  by  sex  is  meant,  not  legiti- 
mate love  or  honest  affection,  but  a  debased  kind 
which  lingers  morbidly  over  that  which  is  illicit. 
There  are  many  variants  of  this  theme  in  the  motion- 


26 


THE  1"  SIGN 


pictures.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  tale  of  unlawful 
affection, — the  kind  that  casts  aside  the  most  sacred 
obligations  in  a  wild  pursuit  of  what  is  forbidden. 
Only  too  often,  such  dramas,  presented  in  a  most 
artistic  manner,  are  a  glorification  of  passion,  and 
an  extenuation,  if  not  an  actual  defence  of  sin. 
Then  there  are  problem-plays,  officiously  concerned 
with  the  noisome  exhalations  of  human  depravity: — 
solemnly  analyzing  and  discussing,  with  lofty  pre- 
tense at  zeal  for  betterment,  what  could,  a  thousand 
times  better  be  passed  over  in  silence.  It  is  a 
fallacy  to  think  that  loftiness  of  motive  justifies  the 
indiscriminate  discussion  of  some  themes, — and 
then,  too,  one  is  inclined,  at  times,  to  question  the 
motive.  What  a  pity  that  scenario-writers  have  to 
go  to  the  gutter  for  their  subjects,  when  there  are 
so  many  noble  stories  waiting  to  be  told! 

The  late  war,  with  its  necessary  attention  to  the 
health  problem,  has  brought  before  the  public 
certain  educational  films,  dealing  with  moral  topics 
of  the  most  delicate  kind.  Perhaps,  such  films, 
handled  properly,  and  shown  before  select  audi- 
ences, can  accomplish  something  in  the  way  of  warn- 
ing as  to  the  wages  of  wrong-doing.  But  shown 
indiscriminately,  or  with  a  pretended  exclusiveness 
which  is  merely  a  bait  for  the  curious,  they  are 
certainly  worthy  of  condemnation.  We  may  be 
reasonably  sure  that  announcements  such  as:  "Men 
and  women  not  admitted  together  on  account  of 
delicate  subject  and  scenes,"  are  not  printed  in  the 
newspapers  because  of  excessive  solicitude  for  pro- 
priety, or  of  zeal  for  the  public  welfare.  Besides, 
considering  the  fact  that,  in  nearly  every  case,  the 
sole  restraining  motive  put  forth  in  these  films  is 
the  danger  of  physical  harm,  the  adequate  force  of 
the  appeal  may  well  be  disputed.  Only  too  many 
have  drawn  as  their  conclusion  from  such  produc- 
tions, not  the  warning  of  religion,  "Be  chaste,"  but 
the  warning  of  prudence,  "Be  careful." 

The  country  is  flooded  with  a  certain  class  of 
pictures, — mostly  comic, — which  deal  with  the  low, 
the  vulgar,  and  the  suggestive.  Designed  expressly 
for  this  purpose,  they  cater  to  the  grossest  instincts, 
and  represent  a  sordid  phase  of  the  degradation  of 
the  screen.  They  go  as  near  the  immoral  as  the  law 
allows, — and,  unfortunately,  the  law  allows  a  great 
deal.  At  times,  even  when  the  general  character  of 
the  film  is  wholesome,  it  is  spoiled  by  offensive 
scenes,  dragged  in  with  no  regard  for  relevance,  in 
order  to  give,  as  some  producers  say,  "pep,"  to  the 
picture.  Those  who  have  had  any  experience  in  the 
selection  of  films  know  this  fact  only  too  well ;  and, 
to  their  vexation,  have  found  out,  with  an  uncen- 
sored  showing,  that  what  they  thought  was  presenta- 
ble, contained  parts  which  had  to  be  eliminated 
before  a  future  performance.  In  their  chagrin,  they 
ruefully  modernized  an  old  saying  so  as  to  read: 
"Call  no  film  safe  till  it  is  ended." 

What  effect  has  the  unclean  film  on  the  mind 
of  an  audience?  Certainly,  anything  but  an  edify- 
ing one.    The  eyes  are  the  soul's  windows,  letting  in 


from  the  outside  the  impressions  that  fall  under 
their  observation.  They  furnish  the  greater  part  of 
the  material  which  the  imagination  uses  in  making 
up  the  images  it  presents  to  the  mind.  And  what  if 
that  material  is  sensual  and  debasing?  Will  not  the 
imagination  which  welcomes  and  harbors  the  pic- 
tures be  an  unclean  one,  reeking  with  the  slimy 
creations  of  its  own  construction?  Who  can  esti- 
mate the  harm  done  in  this  way: — the  souls  that 
are  tainted,  the  hearts  that  are  besmirched;  the 
minds  which,  moved  at  first  by  curiosity,  gradually 
become  more  and  more  familiar  with  evil,  until,  with 
familiarity,  there  grows  the  lessening  of  fear  and 
the  dawn  of  a  liking  which  only  too  soon  deepens 
into  fascination.  Surely,  upon  those  who  produce  and 
upon  those  who  exhibit,  there  is  a  mighty  weight  of 
responsibility  for  the  iniquity  of  which  they  are  the 
purveyors.  Some,  perhaps,  can  view  such  things 
and  yet  remain  unscathed.  Their  natural  cleanness 
of  mind  makes  them  instinctively  reject  the  vulgar, 
and  refuse  to  gloat  over  that  which  is  suggestive. 
Yet,  even  they  cannot  trust  too  much  to  their  im- 
munity; for  evil  can  find  a  weak  joint  in  the  strong- 
est armor  and  can  exercise  its  debasing  influence 
so  subtly,  yet  so  effectively,  that,  almost  before  one 
realizes  the  harm,  it  has  done  its  deadly  work. 

The  young,  with  their  curiosity,  their  ignorance, 
and  their  impatience  of  correction,  are  the  chief 
victims  of  the  unclean  film.  It  is  true  that  a  certain 
percentage  are  not  harmed,  at  least  to  any  great 
extent,  by  these  productions.  Owing  to  good  home 
training  and  religious  surroundings,  they  are  able  to 
throw  off  the  bad  impressions  that  come  to  them, 
just  as  a  healthy  body  will  resist  the  attacks  of  even 
the  most  malignant  germs.  But  to  others,  the  evil 
film  does  a  great,  and  sometimes  an  irreparable 
injury.  Their  home  environment  is  by  no  means 
favorable;  false  principles  and  bad  example  have 
made  their  minds  a  fertile  field  for  vice:  and  then 
comes  the  immoral  picture  with  its  sensual  appeal 
and  its  instruction  in  what  is  debasing.  The  result 
is  an  advanced  course  in  depravity.  Their  thoughts 
are  of  the  unwholesome  kind  that  batten  on  corrup- 
tion; their  conversation  expresses  these  thoughts; 
and  thus  they  become  carriers  of  contagion,  spread- 
ing to  others  the  moral  infection  which  they  them- 
selves have  contracted.  No  one  who  is  concerned 
about  the  welfare  of  others  can  question  the  harm 
of  the  unclean  film.  Its  pernicious  results  are  too 
evident  to  be  denied,  and  too  serious  to  be  passed 
over  in  silence.  Plenty  of  pictures,  now  showing, 
could  well  have  as  their  caption:  "Satan  Film  Co., 
Inc.,"  and  have  as  their  ending,  the  malignant  face 
of  the  devil,  leering  at  those  whom  he  has  done  his 
best  to  corrupt. 

M^^^HE  day  of  the  blood-and-thunder  motion 
m  C\  pictures  seems  to  have  passed  away  and 
^^  J  few  there  are  who  will  shed  even  a  sur- 
^^^  reptitious  tear  over  its  passing.  The  two- 
gun   bully  who  terrorized  western  towns,  and   the 


THE  +  SIGN 


27 


professional  bad  man  who  cowed  shrinking  mail- 
clerks  into  a  corner  while  he  rifled  the  registered 
letters,  and  then  casually  lit  a  cigarette  as  he  drop- 
ped off  the  speeding  train  into  the  darkness  are  not 
so  much  in  evidence  of  late  years.  They  are  rapidly 
passing  into  the  limbo  of  discarded  popularities,  to 
join  company  with  Diamond  Dick,  and  other  thril- 
lers of  by  gone  days.  And  yet,  crime  is  still  a 
popular  theme  with  the  movies.  Having  graduated 
from  its  cruder  stages,  it  is  now  more  refined,  more 
subtle,  and,  perhaps,  more  dangerous.  It  goes  in, 
at  present,  for  dress  suits  and  international  intrigue, 
with  Sherlock  Holmes  as  its  model  and  the  under- 
world as  its  setting.  We  may  well  be  thankful  that 
the  average  boy  is  not  harmed,  at  least  to  any  con- 
siderable degree,  by  such  themes.  Usually,  all  he 
sees  in  them  is  the  adventure  and  the  excitement, 
which, — because  he  is  a  boy, — appeal  to  his  pirate- 
loving,  rowdy  imagination.  It  may  even  be  possible 
that  he  looks  on  them  with  vague  approval,  as  he 
would  on  any  career, — be  it  of  buccaneer  or  aviator 
or  policeman, — which  gives  promise  of  thrills  and 
novelty.  But  as  far  as  real  mischief  is  concerned, 
they  have  scarcely  any  practical  or  lasting  influence. 

But  what  of  the  lad  whose  vicious  surroundings 
are  an  encouragement  to  evil  ?  Certainly,  this  class 
of  pictures  is  a  crime-school  for  him.  Particularly 
in  the  cities,  where  lawlessness  seeks  the  slums 
where  it  can  hide  and  plot  with  comparative  im- 
munity, the  movies  which  depicts  violence  and 
shows  methods  of  crookedness  is  a  liberal  education 
to  the  gangs  who  congregate  for  mischief,  and  who 
are  a  source  of  annoyance  to  the  neighbors  and  of 
concern  to  the  police.  Youngsters  who  should  be  in 
school,  getting  an  education,  are  getting  it,  indeed, 
but  not  of  the  right  kind,  or  in  the  right  place. 
Instead,  they  are  eagerly  absorbing  lessons  which 
fit  them  for  the  reform-school,  from  which,  later  on, 
they  will  emerge,  full-fledged  criminals,  outrivalling, 
in  real  life  anything  they  saw  on  the  screen. 

Some  things  do  harm  because  it  is  their  nature ; 
others  because  they  are  abused.  In  the  latter  case, 
the  fault  lies,  not  with  the  object  itself,  but  with  the 
manner  of  its  using.  We  may  well  apply  this  axiom 
to  the  case  of  the  motion-pictures. 

We  all  like,  at  times,  to  be  lifted  out  of  the 
daily  grind.  Lives  that  are  drab  demand  color; 
lives  that  are  monotonous  crave  change;  lives  that 
are  commonplace  seek  the  thrill  of  adventure  and 
the  charm  of  romance,  where  they  can  be  for  a  time, 
the  hero  of  their  dreams,  and  thus  enjoy,  at  least  by 
proxy,  that  which  is  denied  them  in  real  life.  This 
fact  explains,  in  great  part,  the  popularity  of  the 
pictures.  They  provide  relaxation  and  diversion, 
where  the  cares  and  burdens  of  daily  existence  can 
be  forgotten  for  a  time,  while  the  spectator  absorbs 
himself  in  the  story  which  is  passing  bo  vividly  be- 
fore his  eyes.  Some  can  enjoy  their  little  excursion 
into  the  land  of  fancy,  and  return,  with  renewed 
2est  to  their  daily  tasks.  Others,  succumbing 
to   the   lure   of   what   fascinates   them    so   greatly, 


fall  ready  victims  to  the  unrealities  they  are  so  con- 
stantly absorbing.  It  would  be  interesting  to  find 
out  how  much  of  the  present  discontent,  especially 
among  the  young  and  recently  married,  is  traceable, 
directly  or  indirectly  to  the  pernicious  effect  of  too 
much  movies.  Impressionable  young  women,  satu- 
rated with  silly  notions  gained  from  this  source,  are 
constantly  comparing  their  plain  home  surroundings 
with  the  false  ideals  they  have  formed  from  the  films, 
with  the  result  that  they  become  dissatisfied,  critical 
and  petulant.  And  perhaps,  if  the  whole  truth  were 
known,  the  downward  career  of  many  a  girl  began 
in  the  eagerness  with  which  she  absorbed  the  arti- 
fical  atmosphere  of  the  screen; — an  eagerness  which 
combined  with  a  shallowness  that  prevented  her 
from  realizing  that  life  is  different  in  fact  than  in 
fiction,  and  a  wilfulness  which  determined  her  to 
soften  her  surroundings,  no  matter  at  what  cost, 
made  her  sacrifice  duty  to  love  of  pleasure,  and  buy 
at  a  pitiful  price,  the  attractions  she  had  learned  to 
love  and  resolved  to  have.  Certainly,  the  best  cor- 
rective of  this  false  hunger  for  romance  is  the  same 
viewpoint  which  accepts  things  as  they  are,  and 
which  strives,  by  cultivating  the  spirit  of  content- 
ment, to  take  the  realities  of  life  with  a  cheerful 
mind,  instead  of  nourishing  bitterness  and  resent- 
ment against  the  position  in  which  Providence  has 
placed  us. 


er 


'VEN  of  good  things,  too  much,  is  bad. 
There  is  a  time  for  everything;  and  to  use 
that  which  attracts  without  due  regard 
for  moderation,  is  bound  to  bring  harmful 
results.  Certain  people  are  what  is  called,  in 
popular  parlance,  "movie-fans."  So  great  is  the 
lure  of  the  flickering  film,  that  they  simply  cannot 
resist  its  captivating  appeal.  They  spend  hour  after 
hour  in  the  theatre,  making  a  frequent  occupation 
out  of  what  should  be  merely  an  occasional  diver- 
sion. Children,  because  of  their  love  of  the  fanciful, 
fall  a  ready  prey  to  the  picture  habit.  Attracted 
by  the  glitter  of  lights  and  the  lure  of  posters,  they 
are  inclined  to  sacrifice  home  study  to  the  easier 
task  of  patronizing  some  neighboring  movie,  where 
they  can  gain  much  pleasure  but  little  profit.  And 
thus  is  added  another  conspirator  to  the  already  long 
list  of  enemies  of  knowledge,  that  are  combining 
to  steal  the  hours  which  should  be  spent  at  books. 
Nor  are  grown-ups  free  from  blame  in  this  matter. 
An  inspection  of  quite  a  few  homes  would  reveal 
the  fact  that,  with  household  duties  left  neglected 
and  necessary  work  piling  up,  the  mistress  of  the 
home  is  comfortably  seated  in  the  theatre,  deeply 
absorbed  in  some  story  which  were,  perhaps,  better 
untold.  The  clock-hand  is  pointing  imperatively  to 
five ;  children  are  home  from  school ;  a  fretting  hus- 
band is  awaiting  the  evening  meal; — and  still  she 
lingers  to  see  the  final  uniting  of  two  faithful  hearts, 
which  she  must  not  miss,  no  matter  how  urgent  the 
call  of  duty.  It  is  such  things  as  these  that  bring 
discord  and  quarreling  into  the  home. 


28 


THE  1*  SIGN 


A  prominent  insurance  company  found  it  neces- 
sary, not  so  long  ago,  to  actively  combat  the  incli- 
nation, on  the  part  of  some  of  its  solicitors,  to  yield 
to  the  soothing  seduction  of  the  pictures,  during  the 
time  when  they  should  have  been  hard  at  work 
getting  business  for  the  firm  that  employed  them. 
And,  if  truth  were  told,  nearly  every  audience,  es- 
pecially the  afternoon  ones,  represents,  to  some 
degree,  the  squandering  of  time  by  those  who  can 
ill-afford  such  prodigality. 

HATELY  the  films  have  drawn  on  themselves 
a  great  deal  of  criticism, — and  not  only 
criticism,  but  an  active  opposition,  which 
threatens  to  take  a  very  energetic,  and  by 
no  means  favorable  turn.  Prominent  men  and 
women  all  over  the  country  are  realizing,  with  ever 
growing  concern,  that  the  motion-pictures  have  been 
steadily  degenerating,  and  that,  if  vigorous  measures 
are  not  soon  taken  to  purify  them,  they  will  become 
hopelessly  submerged  in  foulness.  A  cleaner 
standard  is  imperative;  without  it,  the  screen  is  a 
menace  to  public  morals. 

The  question  of  censorship  is  one  that  gives 
rise  to  a  host  of  opinions, — some  favorable,  others 
loudly  condemnatory.  Naturally  enough,  the  pro- 
ducers look  with  suspicion  on  outside  reviews  of 
their  productions.  Many  of  them  claim  that  legal 
censorship  is  wrong  in  principle;  that  it  violates  the 
liberties  of  an  untrammeled  people,  and  therefore 
has  no  place  in  a  country  such  as  our  own.  Perhaps 
they  speak  thus  because  so  many  of  them  learned 
to  love  freedom  from  the  lack  of  it  in  the  ghettos 
of  Odessa  or  Petrogard.  Perhaps,  too,  their  idea 
of  liberty  is  that  of  the  foreigner  who,  when  fined 
for  beating  his  wife,  exclaimed  in  grieved  tones  as 
he  left  the  courtroom,  "and  yet,  they  call  this  a  free 
country!" 

Some,  however,  oppose  censorship  on  account 
of  the  practical  impossibility, — as  they  claim, — of 
wise  and  impartial  application.  Standards  differ, 
it  is  alleged,  and  individuals  are  often  swayed  by 
interest,  prejudice,  likes  and  dislikes.  One  producer 
instances  the  case  of  the  woman  censor  in  Kansas 
who,  because  of  a  recent  death  in  her  family,  ruled 
out  all  funeral  scenes  as  too  depressing.  The  pro- 
ducers want  their  own  censorship,  if  any;  and  some 
of  the  more  responsible  ones,  alarmed,  very  likely 
by  threats  of  drastic  legislation,  have  given  pledges 
of  an  honest  and  thorough  effort  towards  cleanliness. 
But  what  of  the  other  kind?  Should  there  not  be 
something  to  take  the  place  of  the  conscience  they 
lack,  and  to  force  these  purveyors  of  filth  to  do  by 
law  what  they  will  not  do  by  inclination?  Self-cen- 
sorship may  work  out  very  well  for  the  men  who  are 
really  in  earnest,  but  with  a  certain  class  it  is  apt  to 
prove  just  as  one-sided  as  any  the  state  can  impose. 
To  have  the  parties  involved  pass  judgment  on  their 
own  work  is  like  letting  the  customer  pick  his  own 


change  from  the  cash-register,  or  permitting  each 
ball-team  to  make  its  own  decisions  on  the  diamond. 
Such  things  could  be  done, — theoretically;  but  then, 
we  have  the  principle,  as  true  in  life  as  in  law,  that 
no  one  is  a  judge  in  his  own  case.  Particularly  is 
this  the  fact  when  thousands  of  dollars  are  involved, 
and  when  an  adverse  decision  means  heavy  pecuni- 
ary loss.  For  a  man  to  discard  a  picture  after  he 
has  spent  money  on  it  demands  heroic  determina- 
tion. The  producers  are  well  supplied  with  determ- 
ination;— but  it  is  to  get  their  money  back,  with  a 
good  rate  of  profit  if  they  can. 

The  attitude  of  the  National  Catholic  Welfare 
Council  on  the  question  of  censorship  is  an  eminent- 
ly sane  one,  and  one  which,  if  followed,  will  furnish 
the  best  solution  of  this  perplexing  problem.  It 
starts  out  with  the  principal  that,  while  indeed  there 
are  many  abuses  to  be  corrected,  a  reasonable  amount 
of  good  will  on  both  sides  will  serve  to  remedy  these 
abuses,  and  raise  the  moving  pictures  to  the  high 
standard  which  morality  demands.  It  recognizes 
the  fact  that  constructive  criticism  can  do  more  than 
mere  condemnation.  Co-operation,  rather  than 
coercion  is  its  method,  and  it  regards  legal  censor- 
ship as  a  final  resort,  to  be  used  only  when  all 
other  remedies  have  proven  unavailing. 

In  last  analysis,  the  only  effective  censors  are 
the  public.  It  is  the  court  of  last  appeal,  and 
what  it  condemns  will  inevitably  prove  a  failure. 
For  this  reason,  the  burden  of  approval  or  disap- 
proval rests  largely  with  those  who  have  at  heart 
their  own  well-being,  and  that  of  those  committed 
to  their  care.  Parents,  in  particular,  should  be 
deeply  concerned  with  the  uplifting  of  the  motion- 
pictures.  Part  of  their  responsibility  consists  in 
watching  over  the  moral  welfare  of  their  children; 
and  what  is  of  greater  moment  regarding  such  moral 
welfare  than  the  supervision  of  the  vivid  scenes 
which  can  educate  so  rapidly  and  so  effectively, 
either  for  good  or  for  evil.  If  fathers  and  mothers 
only  took  this  obligation  more  seriously,  their  pres- 
ent attitude  of  tolerant  indifference  would  change  to 
one  of  close  and  vigorous  watchfulness. 

Our  Catholic  people  should  realize  the  fact  that 
they  are  a  power  in  this  matter,  and  chould  bestir 
themselves  to  use  this  power  for  good.  To  patronize 
the  vulgar  movie  even  when  disapproving,  is  to  give 
positive  encouragement  to  that  which  is  harmful. 
To  express  active  condemnation,  both  by  word  and 
by  action,  is  to  take  the  only  effective  measures 
towards  betterment.  Intelligent  interest  and  a  keen 
zeal  for  what  is  wholesome  will  do  more,  in  the  long 
run,  than  anything  else  to  maintain  high  ideals,  and 
put  an  effective  stop  to  the  salacious  and  the  sug- 
gestive. Such  a  course  of  action  will  result  in 
pictures  which,  while  striving  for  interest  and  popu- 
larity, will  draw  their  inspiration  from  what  is 
ennobling  and  inspiring,  instead  of  seeking  for 
material  from  the  dregs  of  life. 


Wkat   Do   You   Know   About: 

Luther   and   the   Reformation? 


VJ^^^^HE  centenary  of  Luther's  exploits  at 
M^^T^\  Wittenburg  and  Worms  was  celebrated 
■  |  witn  a  soft-pedal.    There  was  a  reason. 

^  J  The  centenary  in  1883  of  his  birth  had 
^^fc^^  been  the  occasion  for  impartial  scholars 
making  researches  anew  into  his  tumultuous  life. 
With  their  revelations  at  hand  we  must  conclude 
that  if  the  Reformation  was  God's  work,  then  He 
choses  for  His  ends  not  only  the  "weak  and  the 
foolish"  but  the  hypocrite  and  even  the  impure. 
However,  in  the  recent  celebration  they  ventured 
once  more  to  proclaim  the  unfrocked  friar  of  Erfurt 
as  the  herald  of  a  pure  evangel  and  the  liberator 
of  men  from  spiritual  and  intellectual  thraldom. 
Even  President  Harding  benignly  contributed  an  en- 
comium. 

Hence  it  is  timely  to  reassert  that  the  following 
facts  or  rejoinders  are  based  on  Luther's  own  or  on 
Protestant  authority: 

1.  As  a  FRIAR  he  was  scrupulous,  moody, 
fractious,  proud  and  singular;  ever  heading  toward 
apostasy. 

2.  As  a  PRIEST,  of  his  own  first  Mass  he 
declared :  "I  was  almost  dead,  for  I  was  without 
faith." 

3.  As  he  a  STUDENT:  he  specialized  in 
Scripture,  otherwise  he  was  not  exceptionally 
learned  nor  brilliant.  In  handling  philosophical  and 
theological  problems  he  was  without  depth;  all  his 
force  sprang  from  passion  and  invective. 

4.  Concerning  Christian  ORTHODOXY,  he 
denied  free-will  to  man  and  the  efficacy  of  good 
works.  Thus  alone  he  eliminates  responsibility, 
duty,  guilt  and  repentance  and  undermines  the 
sublime  system  of  morality  established  by  Him  Who 
says:  "Before  man  is  life  and  death,  good  and  evil; 
that  which  he  shall  choose  shall  be  given  to  him." 

5.  In  his  treatment  of  the  BIBLE :  He  had  no 
fixed  theory  of  inspiration,  and  in  framing  his 
arbitrary  canon  declared  he  would  brook  no  opposi- 
tion from  a  thousand  popes,  from  St.  Paul,  nor  from 
the  angels  of  heaven.  Where  Scripture  failed  to 
support  his  theories  he  expunged  ruthlessly  or  dis- 
torted even  with  levity  and  blasphemy.  Lutherans 
themselves  have  restored  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  the  Epistle  of  St.  James  and  the  Apo- 
calypse. 

6.  His  Scriptural  STARTING-POINT:  the 
distortion  of  St.  Paul,  "the  just  man  liveth  by  faith." 
Spurred  by  the  cravings  of  a  libertine  he  interpreted 
"faith"  to  be  the  assurance  of  salvation  and  claimed 
that  justification  was  imputed  not  imparted.  From 
this  followed  logically  his  theory  about  the  harm- 
lessness  of  sin  and  such  advice  that  the  best  way 
to  confound  the  devil  is  to  sin  the  more. 


7.  The  DELIVERER  of  the  BIBLE  to  the 
people:  In  Germany  prior  to  the  publication  of 
Luther's  Bible  there  was  no  fewer  than  thirty 
editions  of  the  entire  Scriptures  and  parts  of  the 
Bible  appeared  in  the  German  vernacular.  Long 
before  the  Reformation  every  Catholic  nation  had 
versions  of  the  Bible  in  the  vernacular. 

8.  The  DISPELLER  of  IGNORANCE: 
Germany  had  40,000  elementary  schools  before 
Luther  was  born  and  the  figures  of  attendance  at 
the  universities  set  us  to  wondering  how  many  were 
left  in  the  material  pursuits  of  life. 

9.  The  LIBERATOR  of  the  people:  He 
handed  over  ecclesiastical  power  and  favors  to  the 
princes  and  bound  up  Church  with  State :  cuius 
regio,  eius  religio.  Against  the  peasants  he  wrote 
some  of  his  most  violent  invectives  and  even  ad- 
vocated their  slaughter. 

10.  The  REFORMER:  All  agree  upon  what 
should  be  the  qualifications  of  a  reformer.  Luther 
made  sport  of  Moses  and  the  ten  commandments. 
He  condoned  impurity,  claiming  that  none  could  at- 
tain to  continence.  His  own  colleagues  had  to  plead 
with  him  to  curb  his  passions.  He  was  addicted  to 
intoxication,  licentious  talk  and  actions.  The  first 
effects  of  the  preaching  of  the  "pure  Gospel"  was 
an  unparalleled  orgy  of  viciousness  among  all  ranks. 
Fortunately  his  followers  as  well  as  those  of  his 
contemporary  Henry  VIII,  have  rejected  both  as 
examples  of  morality. 

Yet  when  we  contemplate  these  two  large 
Christian  bodies  in  their  decency  of  principle  and' 
practice,  we  must  marvel  at  their  courage  in  remind- 
ing an  intelligent  world  who  were  their  founders 
and  in  exhibiting  these  for  admiration  on  their  re- 
curring centenaries. 

In  conclusion  we  quote  the  very  apt  words  of 
Mgr.  O'Hare,  author  of  Facts  About  Luther.  "Four 
hundred  years  have  passed  since  Luther's  Reforma- 
tion scheme  was  given  to  the  world  and  in  spite 
of  all  the  attacks  which  the  Church  has  had  to 
sustain  from  heresy,  she  and  her  Supreme  Head 
remain.  The  overruling  arm,  which  in  its  wondrous 
movements  confounds  the  schemes  of  wicked  men, 
interfered  to  preserve  the  religion  of  Jesus  Christ 
which  though  so  mysterious  in  its  doctrines  and  so 
opposed  to  corrupt  nature  in  its  morals,  remains  in 
open  daylight  in  every  quarter  of  the  world  to  en- 
lighten and  guide  and  lift  up  and  heal  human  nature 
in  spite  of  calumny,  in  spite  of  popular  out-breaks, 
in  spite  of  cruel  torments,  the  Church  on  to  unfold 
to  a  wicked  world  the  purity  of  her  morals,  the 
sublimity  of  her  mysteries,  the  truth  of  her  doctrines, 
and  the  majesty  of  her  worship,  and  the  hope  of 
eternal  life  with  which  she  insDires  her  members." 


In   Our   Lady's   Praise 

Frederic  L.  Kemp 

0  gloriosa  virginum, 
Sublimis  inter  sidera 

A  paradise  of  bliss, 
As  sweet  as  angel's  kiss, 
Thy  unreproving  looks  sweet  Mother  are; 
An  aureole  of  light 
Doth  seem  to  veil  from  sight 
Thy  spotless  brow,  and  uneuphrasied  stare; 
While  angels,  veiled,  thy  form  attend, 
Less  by  too  curious  glance  their  Lord  they  should  offend. 

Thine  eyes  are  lucid  seas, 
Whose  light  the  demon  flees, 
For  in  their  depths  is  mirrored  his  dread  Lord; 
Just  as  a  shaded  pool 
Whose  waters,  sparkling  cool, 
A  glance  at  heaven  to  the  parched  afford; 
And  fearful,  too,  least  he  should  see 
In  their  bright  depths,  his  own  most  foul  deformity. 

Rich  woofs  of  skeined  gold 
Thy  peerless  form  enfold, 
Which  brightest  seraphim  were  joyed  to  spin; 
A  silvern  girdle  winds 
The  sacred  zone,  and  binds 
Thy  glittering  robe  with  gorgeous  wrinkles  in; 
And  on  thy  blest  and  lovely  brow 
A  changeful  veil,  now  red  as  flame,  now  white  as  snow. 

And  all  around  thee  cling 
The  perfumes  angels  bring 
To  scatter  thro  the  air — a  needless  task; 
Thee,  God  himself  hath  called 
A  paradise  enwalled 
In  whose  delights  no  mortal  was  to  bask; — 
What's  made  for  God  most  perfect  is; 
And  thou  art  filled  with  sweets  and  all  those  sweets  are  His. 

Alas,  all  we  can  say 
Will  still  be  far  away 
From  what  thou  art,  we  only  too  well  know; 
For  if  a  mortal  tongue, 
Thy  perfect  praise  had  sung, 
What  need  for  us  to  thy  own  home  to  go, — 
To  see  thee  in  thy  royal  state 
But  in  song,  a  paradise  on  earth  it  would  create. 

Yet  human  speech  in  vain 

If  mortals  still  remain 
As  weak  and  sinful  as  they  were  before. 

Sweet  Mother,  then  bestow 

On  us  the  grace  to  grow 
In  love  for  thee  and  Jesus  more  and  more; 
And  when  the  hour  of  death  draws  near 
May  we,  confiding,  thy  maternal  accents  hear. 


Archconfraternit))  of 


CONFRATERNITIES  are  designed  to 
foster  certain  devotions.  In  taking  up 
a  special  devotion  you  pass  from  the 
hard  lines  of  mere  duty  into  the 
pleasanter  sphere  of  generosity.  Where 
duty  ends,  generosity  begins.  With  a  little  close 
reflection  most  of  us  discover  that  we  never  rise  out 
of  the  rut  of  our  strict  obligations  to  God.  Often 
the  discovery  leads  to  confusion  and  confusion  be- 
gets an  impulse  and  resolution  that  henceforth  we 
shall  be  accredited  with  higher  motives.  That 
impulse,  being  of  the  heart,  finds  its  easiest  ex- 
pression in  devotion. 

The  impulse  of  generosity  and  devotion  will  be 
strong  in  the  measure  that  we  apprehend  goodness 
and  interest  exercised  in  our  behalf.  This  is  what 
makes  devotion  to  the  Passion  of  our  Lord  most 
satisfying  and  reasonable.  The  Passion  reveals 
Christ  suffering  and  ourselves  as  the  objects  of  a 
solicitude  which  His  love  implies.  Hence,  our  Lord 
defines  it  with  a  note  of  appeal :  "Greater  love  than 
this  hath  no  man,  that  he  laid  down  his  life  for 
his  friends."  Therefore,  can  anything  mean  more 
to  us  than  the  Passion  and  Death  of  the  Savior? 

There  are  few  Catholics  who  never  feel  the 
impulse  of  gratitude  or  the  desire  to  show  their  ap- 
preciation in  some  way  to  Him  Who  did  not  count 
the  cost  of  His  love  for  us.  Failure  to  put  these 
good  impulses  and  desires  into  daily  effect  is  often 
due  to  lack  of  knowing  how.  It  is  the  object  of  the 
Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion  to  supply  an  easy 
and  attractive  plan  of  practical  devotion.  Member- 
ship in  it,  therefore,  should  appeal  to  those  who 
acknowledge  their  immense  debt  of  gratitude. 

The  Confraternity  of  the  Passion  was  instituted 
by  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross,  a  most  ardent  lover  of 
the  Crucified.  His  zeal  was  not  satisfied  with 
having  founded  an  Order  of  priests  and  brothers 
to  foster  and  spread  devotion  to  Christ  suffering, 
nor  yet  with  establishing  an  Order  of  women  whose 
prayers  and  contemplations  were  directed  to  the 
same  object,  but  he  also  formed  sodalities  of  men 
and  women  living  in  the  world  but  not  of  the  world, 
the  principal  purpose  of  which  would  be  to  make 
known  and  loved  the  Passion  and  Death  of  the 
Redeemer. 

In  the  year  1861  Pius  IX.  approved  these  Con- 
fraternities and  gave  to  the  General  of  the  Passion- 
ists  residing  in  Rome  the  power  to  erect  Confraterni- 
ties of  the  Passion  everywhere  and  to  grant  to  the 
members  all  the  indulgences  and  spiritual  favors 
which  had  any  time  been  granted  to  the  Passionists. 
This  approbation  of  the  Pope  soon  gave  to  the  work 
of  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  great  increase  and  before 
long  confraternities  were   to   be   found   in   France, 


tke    Sacred    P 


assion 


England,  Ireland,  Spain,  and  in  North  and  South 
America. 

The  principal  of  these  were  established  at  the 
time  of  the  canonization  of  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross, 
1867,  in  the  church  of  the  Scala  Sancta  at  Rome. 
There  are  preserved,  and  venerated  by  almost  every 
pilgrim  to  Rome,  the  Scala  Sancta,  the  Holy  Stairs, 
which  our  Lord  ascended  to  be  judged  by  Pilate. 

Finally  the  present  Holy  Father,  Benedict  XV., 
on  Feb.  26,  1918,  having  confirmed  all  the  indul- 
gences granted  by  his  predecessors,  and  granting 
extraordinary  new  ones,  raised  the  Confraternity 
at  the  Scala  Sancta  to  the  dignity  of  an  Archcon- 
fraternity of  honor  or  of  the  first  class.  Thereby 
it  was  empowered  to  communicate  all  its  privileges 
to    affiliated   confraternities   throughout   the   world. 

* J^  >HE  RULES  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the 
m  C~\  Passion  are  so  simple  and  definite  as  to 
^  J  involve  no  serious  inconvenience  in  their 
^^  faithful  fulfillment. 

1.  As  the  object  of  the  Archconfraternity  is 
to  promote  devotion  towards  and  a  grateful  remem- 
brance of  the  Passion  and  Death  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ  and  the  Sorrows  of  His  holy  Mother,  the 
members  keep  this  object  in  view,  and  pray  daily 
that  they  may  know  better  and  that  others  may 
better  know  Jesus  Crucified. 

2.  The  members  are  formally  invested  with 
the  Black  Scapular  of  the  Most  Holy  Cross  and 
Passion.  They  wear  this  scapular  constantly.  (The 
scapular  medal,  blessed  by  one  authorized  to  do  so, 
may  be  used  instead.) 

3.  Each  member  adds  to  morning  and  evening 
prayers  the  Litany  of  the  Passion  or  some  ejacula- 
tion in  honor  of  our  Lord's  Passion. 

4.  Friday,  the  day  especially  dedicated  to  the 
memory  of  the  Sacred  Passion,  is  sanctified  by  some 
special  act  of  devotion,  as  the  Stations  of  the  Cross 
or  reciting  the  Litany  of  the  Passion. 

5.  When  the  Stations  of  the  Cross  are  made 
publicly  in  the  church,  the  members  should  en- 
deavor to  be  present. 

6.  As  the  Holy  Mass  is  the  "Memorial  of  the 
Passion,"  the  members  should  assist  at  it  as  often 
as  possible,  mindful  of  the  words  of  our  Lord.  "Do 
this  for  a  commemoration  of  Me."    Luke  xxii.  19. 

7.  Once  a  month  the  members  receive  Holy 
Communion  wearing  the  insignia  of  the  Passion. 

8.  The  members  will  endeavor  to  be  present 
at  the  monthly  meeting  on  the  fourth  Sunday  of 
the  month. 

These  rules  do  not  oblige  under  penalty  of  sin. 
Their  faithful  observance  is  left  to  the  spontaneous 
but  steadfast  good-will  of  the  members. 


Index   to  Worth-while   Reading 


OO  you  read  for  entertainment  only  of  for  mental 
and  spiritual  improvement?  What  do  you 
select  to  read  after  scanning  the  contents  of  a 
magazine,  the  titles  on  a  library  shelf,  the  pro- 
digious menu  of  the  daily  paper?  Do  you  read 
only  to  excite  your  imagination  or  to  satisfy  idle  curiosity? 

The  best  that  can  be  said  for  the  sort  of  reading 
catered  to  by  lending-libraries,  is  that  the  librarians  might 
be  more  mischieviously  employed.  The  need  of  relaxa- 
tion might  justify  merely  ephemerial  reading,  but  this 
only  on  the  supposition  that  you  have  been  making  some 
protracted  mental  effort. 

Many  are  deriving  neither  knowledge  nor  edification 
from  their  reading  although  there  is  so  much  to  be 
acquired  over  and  above  what  has  been  learned  through 
compulsion  in  school-days.  They  falsely  take  for  granted 
that  all  instructive  and  edifying  reading  is  dry  and  insipid, 
they  assume  that  only  one  faculty,  the  imagination,  can 
be  the  medium  of  entertainment  or  interest.  They  create 
the  demand  for  the  perennial  output  of  trivial  fiction, 
much  of  which  is  lurid  and  withal  so  prolific  as  to  seem 
the  product  of  imagination  run  riot. 

Habitual  readers  of  light  fiction  should  learn  that  in 
serious  reading  there  is  an  exhaustless  source  of  instruc- 
tive entertainment.  Biography,  travel,  lives  of  the  saints, 
essays  secular  and  religious,  and  the  divers  forms  of 
secular  and  religious  treatises,  all  go  to  make  up  a  rich 
deposit  whence  you  may  derive  true  mental  culture. 

Such  reading,  if  approached  understandingly,  will 
not  fail  to  afford  genuine  pleasure.  It  cultivates  the 
instinct  of  inquiry  which  in  turn  broadens  the  intellectual 
outlook  so  that  through  a  little  self-discipline  many  first 
sense  the  power  attainable  through  the  methodical  exer- 
cise of  the  brain,  and  come  in  time  to  acquire  a  whole- 
some nausea  for  their  former  habit  of  light  and  useless 
reading.  They  learn  to  appreciate  at  its  full  value  Bishop 
Spalding's  saying :  "Formerly  there  were  a  thousand 
thoughts  in  one  book,  now  there  is  scarcely  a  single 
thought  in  a  thousand  books." 

As  an  aid  to  our  readers  in  the  choice  of  their 
reading  matter  we  shall  list  and  review  on  this  page 
every  month  a  number  of  books  which  they  will  find 
profitable. 

THE  VISIBLE  CHURCH,  by  REV.  JOHN  F.  SUL- 
LIVAN. Pages  276.  Price  $1.00;  postage  15c.  P.  J. 
KENEDY  &  SONS. 

A  copy  of  THE  VISIBLE  CHURCH  ough  to  be 
found  in  every  Catholic  home,  it  ought  particularly,  to 
be  found  among  the  text-books  of  every  Catholic  student. 
Clearness,  completeness,  conciseness  give  this  handy 
compendium  of  Catholic  teaching  a  unique  place  among 
books  covering  the  same  ground.  Within  its  276  pages 
such  a  wide  range  of  subjects  as  the  following  is  em- 
braced: The  Church's  Government,  the  Religious  State, 
the  Sacraments,  the  Sacramentals,  the  Ecclesiastical 
Year,  the  Church's  Books,  Services  and  Devotions,  Art 
and  Architecture,  with  a  final  chapter  on  the  more  im- 
portant points  of  the  Liturgy.  The  value  of  the  volume 
is  enchanced  by  an  ample  index  and  a  large  number  of 
illustrations  that  illustrate.     The  price  is  unusually  low. 


TRESSIDER'S 
BENZIGER  BROS 

Miss  Clarke  ha 
long  list  of  enterta 
Tressider's  Sister  is 
blems  of  life  and 
of  the  human  heart 
literary  output.  V 
wine  of  her  prose ; 


SISTER,  by  ISABEL  C.  CLARKE. 
.    Net  $2.25.    Postage  15c. 

s  added  yet  another  to  her  already 
ining  novels.  What  is  significant  in 
that  the  author's  grasp  on  the  pro- 
her  insight  into  the  devious  ways 
are  strengthening  with  her  versatile 
olumnes  have  not  deluted  the  pure 
work   has  not   weakened  her  vigor; 


nor  spoiled  the  freshness  of  her  style:  neither  has  it 
paled  the  fire  of  her  orginality ;  nor  dulled  the  edge  of 
her  delicate  taste.  Tressider's-  Sister  shows  the  author 
at  her  best.  They  who  have  come  to  admire  Miss  Clarke 
in  The  Ellstones  and  Eunice  will  not  be  disappointed  in 
her  latest  novel. 

THE  ART  OF  INTERESTING,  by  F.  P.  DONNEL- 
LY, S.  J.  P.  J.  KENNEDY  &  SONS.  Net  $1.75.  Post- 
age 15c. 

Father  Donnelly  has  crowned  his  works  in  rhetoric. 
The  Art  of  Interesting  bridges  the  gulf  between  the 
class-room  and  the  platform.  This  book  is  addressed  to 
all  who  essay  success  as  public  speakers.  That  it  is  in 
a  special  manner  addressed  to  preachers  will  not  militate 
against  its  general  usefulness.  The  political  speaker  as 
well  as  professional  lecturers  will  find  this  book  of  para- 
mount helpfulness.  The  book  offers  no  short-cut  to 
'silver  tongued'  oratory.  Rather  it  surveys  a  difficult  but 
clearly  defined  road  leading  to  undoubted  success.  To 
change  the  metaphor,  we  might  say  that  it  prescribes  a 
series  of  oratorical  setting-up  exercises  which,  if  per- 
severed in  will  develop  a  capable  and  compelling  speaker. 

The  reader  cannot  fail  to  discover  in  this  book  that 
the  secret  of  the  interesting  speech  is  the  appeal  to  the' 
imagination :  and  the  convincing  speaker  is  he  who 
avoids  airy  generalities  and  dull  principles,  and  visualizes 
his  message  in  the  concrete.  The  chapter  on  St.  Paul 
will  prove  of  value  to  clerical  students.  Not  only  is  it  a 
lesson  in  directness  of  delivery,  but  is  likewise  a  help  in 
penetrating  the  meaning  of  the  Apostle's  text.  In  an- 
other chapter  we  have  the  late  Father  Pardow  set  forth 
as  the  'popular'  preacher  who  through  the  play  of  a 
well  disciplined  imagination  and  reiterated  appeal  to  the 
experiences  of  his  auditors  achieved  a  success  which 
certain  physical  defects  would  have  naturally  precluded. 
The  essay  on  Cardinal  Newman  hardly  fits  in  the  scope 
of  this  book.  A  chapter  on  the  great  Oratorian  setting 
forth  such  points  as  we  know  Father  Donnelly  would 
have  his  readers  admire  and  imitate  in  Newman's  style 
would  have  been  preferable  and  of  more  practical  service. 
The  best  thing  that  can  be  said  of  this  interesting  work 
is  that  the  author,  as  the  old-time  preacher,  allures  to 
brighter  worlds,  and  leads  the  way. 

BECK  of  BECKFORD,  by  M.  E.  FRANCIS.  P.  J. 
KENNEDY  &  SONS.  Pages  350.  Price  $2.00.  Postage 
15c. 

THE  GREENWAY.  LESLIE.  MOORE.  P.  T. 
KENNEDY  &  SONS.  Pages  304.  Price  $2.25.  Postage 
15c. 

Very  often  we  hear  the  complaint  from  Catholics 
that  the  only  readable  fiction  is  what  is  popularly  known 
as  the  'best-seller'  stuff.  In  this  judgement  they  are 
largely  influenced  by  glaring  adds  and  publishers  blurbs 
When  taxed  with  the  objectionableness  of  this  unwhole- 
some reading  they  retort  that  there  is  nothing  else  to 
read  sufficiently  appealing.  They  identify  Catholic  fiction 
with  the  altogether  namby-pamby  and  goodie-goodie. 
In  this  they  are  confessing  their  own  crass  ignorance. 
Amongst  modern  Catholic  writers  there  are  many  who 
could  easily  command  a  wide  reading  circle  if  they  were 
willing  to  forget  religious  principle  and  unfrock  them- 
selves of  decency.  We  do  not  hesitate  to  number  amongst 
these,  M.  E.  Francis,  author  of  "Beck  of  Beckford," 
who  deserves  well  of  Catholic  readers  for  whom  she  has 
written  so  much  and  so  well :  and  Leslie  Moore,  a  new- 
comer into  the  field  of  Catholic  literature,  whose  latest 
novel,  "The  Greenway,"  bids  fair  to  gain  for  the  author 
a  warm,  and  lasting  place  in  the  heart  of  discerning 
Catholic  readers. 


The   Eldest  Devotion  of  the   Church 


Hubert  Cunningham,  C.  P. 


■^^^^HE  mystery  of  the  Passion  of  Jesus  Christ 
d  C\  is  all-embracing  in  its  scope.  It  involves 
^k  J  every  grief,  pain  and  sorrow,  mental,  moral 
^^^  and  physical,  endured  by  Christ  from  the 
first  instant  of  His  Incarnation  to  the  last  moment 
of  His  mortal  life  on  the  Cross.  The  cries  and  tears 
of  the  frail  little  Babe,  the  poverty  and  want  and 
loneliness  of  the  growing  Boy,  the  hard  toilings  of 
the  young  Man,  the  weariness,  neglect  and  calumny 
borne  by  the  divine  Missionary  during  His  three 
years  of  public  life — all  these,  as  well  as  the  scourg- 
ings  and  the  lashings,  the  thorns  and  the  nails, 
which  were  suffered  by  the  innocent  Victim,  form 
an  integral  part  of  the  mystery  of  the  Passion  of 
Jesus  Christ.  The  Passion  of  Christ  means  the 
sufferings  of  Christ,  and 
since  the  sufferings  of 
Christ  run  all  through  His 
life,  so  the  life  and 
Passion  of  our  divine 
Lord  can  be  said  to  be 
coterminous. 

The  Passion  of  Christ, 
however,  has  received  a 
more  definite  or  restricted 
meaning  than  this:  the 
word  Passion  is  applied 
to  the  last  hours  of  the 
Savior's  earthly  life,  and 
in  this  narrower  sense 
it  has  been  universally 
accepted   by  the   Church. 

But  the  ill-instructed  Catholic  is  too  often  dis- 
posed to  contract  the  meaning  of  the  Passion  over- 
much by  referring  it  only  to  Our  Savior's  Crucifixion 
and  Death.  This,  of  course,  is  erroneous.  The  specific 
term,  Passion  of  Jesus  Christ,  comprises  the  sum- 
total  of  the  intense  sorrows  and  brutal  cruelties 
which  began  in  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane  on  Holy 
Thursday  Night  and  which  steadily  multiplied  upon 


rHIS  is  the  first  of  a  series  of  articles 
which  will  appear  in  future  issues  of 
The  Sign.  The  thoughtful  reading  of  these 
articles  will  beget  a  deeper  and  more  intelli- 
gent devotion  to  Christ  Crucified.  The 
Author  happily  combines  historical,  scienti- 
fic and  devotional  aspects  of  the  Sacred 
Passion. — The  Editors. 


His   divine    Person    during   the   eighteen   torturing 
hours  preceding  His  expiration  upon  the  Cross. 

This  consecrated  word — 'Passion' — was  first 
given  to  the  sufferings  of  Jesus  by  the  inspired  pen 
of  St.  Luke  in  the  passage :  "to  the  Apostles  Jesus 
showed  himself  alive  after  His  Passion."  Here  the 
sole  meaning  that  can  be  given  to  the  corresponding 
original  Greek  wording  is  that  which  we  have  last 
described.  The  word  passion  in  Greek  means  a 
great  misfortune,  a  personal  calamity,  or  a  condition 
of  intense  suffering;  and  so  the  dreadful  calamity 
which  befell  our  blessed  Savior,  St.  Luke  calls 
"His  Passion."  This  is  the  way  in  which  St.  Jerome 
uses  the  word  when  translating  the  New  Testament 
from  Greek  into  Latin.  Other  ecclesiastical  writers 
followed  the  lead  of  St. 
Jerome,  so  that  the  word 
'Passion'  in  this  very 
determined  sense  came 
into  universal  use  in  the 
Church  and  was  so  under- 
stood by  the  faithful. 
Thus  has  it  been  uniform- 
ally  rendered  in  every 
English  translation  of  the 
Scriptures.  The  'Passion,' 
in  the  Christian  mind,  is 
always  associated  with 
that  accumulation  of  mis- 
fortunes which  suddenly 
broke  above  the  head  of 
the  Savior  and  which  was 
the  immediate  cause  of  His  death. 

The  Christian  world  does  not  forget  that  Jesus 
Christ  suffered,  and  suffered  much;  that,  prior  to 
the  Last  Supper,  He  endured  mental,  moral  and 
physical  pains  which  were  keen  and  various;  but 
those  eighteen  hours  of  concentrated  and  diversified 
torment  have  gripped  men's  minds  and  wrung  men's 
hearts  as  no  other  period  of  His  life  has  done  or 


THE  +  SIGN 


could  do.  Those  final  agonies  stand  alone,  as  a 
thing  apart,  even  in  the  life  of  the  "Man  of  Sorrows," 
and  they  are  called  by  the  Church  the  "Passion  of 
Jesus  Christ." 


^^^HE  Passion,  as  here  specifically  explained, 
1^)  won  the  tender  pity  of  the  human  race :  it 
^^"^  tapped  the  love-spring  from  which  has  issued 
that  stream  of  Christian  piety  known  as  devotion 
to  the  Sacred  Passion.  Even  a  superficial  study 
of  this  subject  suffices  to  prove  that  devotion  to  the 
Passion  of  Christ  is  the  most  ancient  of  all  Catholic 
devotions.  It  is  the  fountain-head  wherein  all  other 
devotions  take  their  rise;  it  is  the  embodiment  of 
of  all  primitive  Christian  devotion  and  the  central 
point  towards  which  all  other  forms  of  early  Catholic 
piety  converge. 

No  other  devotion  is  so  deeply  or  so  obviously 
founded  in  Christian  principle,  no  other  is  so 
intimately  knitted  into  Christian  life,  no  other  has 
so  radically  influenced  primitive  Christian  practice. 
There  is  no  devotion  of  the  Catholic  Church  today, 
or  throughout  her  history,  that  is  so  abundantly 
manifested  and  solidly  authenticated  by  historical 
evidences,  such  as  Holy  Scripture  and  Tradition, 
ancient  liturgies  and  chronicles,  Christian  literature 
and  art,  crumbling  monuments  and  archaeological 
excavations,  as  early  devotion  to  the  Passion  of 
Christ.  All  other  devotions  without  a  single  excep- 
tion, whether  in  honor  of  some  mystery  of  the 
Holy  Faith,  or  of  some  fact  in  Christ's  life — 
devotion  to  the  Blessed  Trinity,  to  the  Holy  Ghost, 
to  the  Incarnation,  to  the  Resurrection,  to  the  Sacred 
Heart,  to  the  Joys  or  Sorrows  of  the  Blessed  Virgin, 
to  the  Martyrs  or  other  Saints — all  these  devotions 
are  of  yesterday  when  compared  with  devotion  to 
the  Sacred  Passion  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Devotion  to  the  Passion  is  more  ancient  than 
devotion  to  the  holy  Mass.  The  very  purpose  of 
the  Mass  is  devotion  to  the  Passion  of  Jesus  Christ. 
It  is  the  memorial  of  the  Passion.  "This  do,"  says 
Christ,  "for  the  commemoration  of  Me;"  and  St. 
Paul  warns  the  faithful,  "as  often  as  you  shall  eat 
this  bread  and  drink  the  chalice,  you  shall  shew 
the  death  of  the  Lord  until  He  come."  The  Mass 
is  itself  an  act  of  devotion  to  Christ's  Passion;  it 
is  the  greatest  of  all  possible  acts;  it  is  the  original 
act  of  devotion  to  the  Passion;  it  was  instituted  for 
this  very  end  by  Jesus  Christ  Himself,  and  it  stands 
as  the  most  convincing  evidence  that  devotion  to 
the  Passion  of  Christ  is  the  earliest  of  all  Catholic 
devotions. 

Read  the  Gospels  for  an  intrinsic  proof  of  this. 
The  four  Evangelists  treat  those  eighteen  hours 
of  our  Savior's  Passion,  not  as  a  mere  series  of 
circumstances  in  His  Life,  nor  merely  as  a  separate 
group  of  experiences;  they  treat  the  history  of  the 
Passion  as  a  phase  distinct  and  separate  from  all 
other  phases  of  Christ's  activity.  All,  with  one 
accord,  treat  the   Passion   as  the   most   prominent, 


and   the   most   important  work   in   the   life   of   the 
God-Man. 

To  view  this  matter  aright  we  must  remember 
that  each  of  the  Gospels  is,  and  is  intended  to  be, 
a  summary  of  the  life  of  Jesus  Christ  more  or  less 
detailed  from  His  birth  to  His  death — the  narrative 
of  the  events  which  made  up  His  earthly  career. 
St.  Matthew  in  writing  his  chronicle  of  the  Master 
devoted  about  one  ninth  of  his  entire  work  to  telling 
the  story  of  those  final  eighteen  hours  of  suffering. 
St.  Mark  gives  the  same  relative  space  in  his  Gospel 
to  an  account  of  the  same  few  hours.  St.  Luke  and 
St.  John  both  stress  with  great  wealth  of  detail  the 
same  brief  period. 

QLL  this  is,  indeed,  remarkable.  But  more 
remarkable  would  it  grow,  were  we  to  con- 
sider the  four  Gospels  as  constituting  one 
book,  and  then  recall  that  about  one  tenth  of  the 
entire  work  is  devoted  entirely  to  narrating  the 
events  that  transpired  within  the  last  eighteen  hours 
of  the  Savior's  life.  Then,  surely,  we  are  compelled 
to  conclude  that  the  hearts  of  the  biographers  were 
fixed  upon  the  sufferings  of  that  short  space,  that 
their  minds  were  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of 
them,  and  this  is  nothing  else  than  to  say  that  the 
four  Evangelists  were  filled  with  devotion  to  the 
Passion  of  their  beloved  Redeemer. 

On  reflection  a  further  thought  occurs  in  this 
connection.  The  previous  life  of  Christ  was  not 
void  of  incident.  Rather,  it  simply  bristled  with  the 
marvellous.  It  was  a  life  of  wonders — wonders  of 
teaching  and  reformation,  wonders  of  conflict  and 
of  conquest,  wonders  of  love  and  of  hatred,  wonders 
of  miracle  and  of  blessing — wonders  that  have 
animated  the  pens  of  thousands  since  that  day;  and 
yet,  these  are  passed  over,  or  are  noted  by  the 
merest  word,  while  one  tenth  of  the  divine  story  of 
the  thirty  three  years  Christ  dwelt  with  men  is  given 
to  the  recording  of  what  happened  in  just  a  few 
hours  of  suffering. 

This  fact  becomes  more  impressive  still  when 
we  recall  that  it  is  not  a  pet  notion  or  characteristic 
trait  of  one  only  of  the  inspired  narrators.  It  is  a 
mark  common  to  them  all,  although  they  wrote  in 
different  places,  in  different  tongues,  and  at  dif- 
xerent  times.  One  Evangelist,  St.  Matthew,  a  tax 
collector,  wrote  his  life  of  Christ  in  Syro-Chaldaic 
in  the  year  39;  another,  St.  Mark,  probably  a  Levite, 
wrote  at  Rome,  and  in  Latin,  about  the  year  43; 
a  third,  St.  Luke,  a  physician,  with  a  marked  dis- 
position to  art,  letters,  and  travel,  composed  his 
work  fourteen  years  later;  while  a  fourth,  St.  John, 
a  fisherman  and  octogenarian,  wrote  his  account 
about  the  year  95,  when  his  fellow  Evangelists  were 
long  since  dead;  yet,  each  biographer  makes  those 
eigheen  hours  the  principal  topic  of  his  history 
of  the  Savior. 


THE  +SIGN 


XF  now  we  add  to  what  has  gone  before  the 
crowning  fact  that  these  records  were  written 
under  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  that 
each  is  the  whispering  of  God's  own  voice,  then  we 
have  a  cumulative  argument  irresistible  in  its  con- 
vincing force;  an  argument  which  teaches  us  with 
mighty  power  not  only  that  the  Passion  of  Christ 
was  the  first  and  greatest  devotion  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  but  what  is  more  satisfying  still,  it  dem- 
onstrates to  us  that  by  God  Himself  it  was  intended 
to  be  so. 

The  effects  of  all  this  showed  immediately  in 


the  life  and  conduct  of  the  early  Christians.  To 
those  holy  men  and  women  the  greatest  thing  in  all 
the  world  was  the  Sacred  Passion;  it  was  every- 
thing; it  lived  ever  and  always  in  their  hearts,  so 
that  the  first  Christians  were  the  first  'Passionists,' 
and  the  first  'Passionists'  were  the  first  Christians. 
These  are,  in  fact,  convertible  terms.  With  the 
first  Christians  love  alone  drew  the  heart's  devotion 
to  the  Passion  of  Christ,  drew  it  so  strongly  that 
those  first  'Passionists'  lived,  suffered  and  died  for 
Jesus  Christ  Crucified!  "And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up, 
will  draw  all  things  to  myself!" 


St.   Gabriel   of  the   Sorrowful   Virgin 


'OME  of  our  readers  have  anxiously  in- 
quired whether  the  life  of  St.  Gabriel  will 
appear  in  the  pages  of  THE  SIGN.  The 
editors  are  glad  to  say  that  it  is  their  pur- 
pose to  give  a  prominent  place  to  the  lives  of  the 
Saints  of  the  Passion.  In  particular,  they  will  stress 
the  beautiful  life  of  St.  Gabriel  of  the  Sorrowful 


St.  Gabriel  of  the  Sorrowful  Virgin 

Virgin.  They  have  in  preparation  a  series  of  articles 
which  will  further  endear  the  saint  to  his  many 
clients. 

It  is  natural   that  this   life   should   appeal   to 
present-day  Catholics,  as  he  is  a  saint  of  our  own 


time.  Just  how  close  he  is  to  us  may  be  learned 
from  the  fact  that  his  own  brother,  Michael  Possenti, 
was  present  at  his  canonization  and  is  still  living. 
Many  of  the  most  charming  saints  lose  some- 
thing of  their  attractiveness  for  us,  because  of  their 
having  lived  at  times  and  under  conditions  so  utterly 
estranged  from  our  own.  St.  Gabriel  was  a  typical 
young  man  of  modern  times,  with  none  of  that 
austere  contempt  of  the  joys  of  life,  such  as  we  are 
accustomed  to  associate  with  a  saint.  Rather,  in 
his  youth  he  was  strongly  inclined  to  all  the  gaities 
of  life.  Only  the  insistent  calling  of  divine  grace 
could  enable  him  to  detach  his  heart  from  the  world, 
so  bright  to  his  eyes  with  the  manifold  vision  of 
pleasure,  ambition,  achievement  which,  like  a  dream 
of  Eldorado,  beckoned  him  away  from  the  glorious 
career  of  sainthood  to  which  he  was  called. 

There  is  no  remoteness  in  time  or  circumstance 
in  our  thought  of  him  to  lessen  our  love  and  confi- 
dence. Our  nearness  to  him  inspires  a  feeling  of 
kinship,  as  well  as  the  conviction  that  he  has  special 
sympathy  for  us  in  the  difficulties  with  which  we 
labor  in  our  spiritual  warfare.  Those  bred  in  the 
lap  of  luxury  find  in  his  sacrifice  of  great  temporal 
blessings,  inspiration  to  the  practice  of  penance 
and  to  a  life  of  service  to  God  and  to  the  neighbor. 
Youths  of  the  world  carried  about  by  every  wind  of 
pleasure,  St.  Gabriel's  holy  example  will  teach  how 
to  keep  unspotted  from  this  world.  Christian 
parents  are  reminded  of  the  sacredness  of  their 
calling  by  remembering  what  a  powerful  factor  ideal 
Catholic  parents  were  in  Gabriel's  sanctification. 
Consecrated  souls  are  reminded  once  more  that  their 
rule  is  the  norm  of  Christian  perfection,  when  they 
realize  that  strict  fidelity  to  rule  was  the  instrument 
of  Gabriel's  holiness.  In  fine,  in  whatever  walk  of 
life  we  are  placed,  St.  Gabriel  teaches  us  that  the 
essence  of  sanctity  is  constant  and  unswerving 
fidelity  to  duty. 


Fuller   Cri 


nmson 


John    Craig 


QO  longer  can  you  write  a  tale  of  love 
inspired  (either  the  tale  or  the  love)  by 
the  coming  of  the  crocuses — that  is,  if  you 
wish  it  to  be  accepted  for  publication.  If 
this  story  were  prefaced  by  the  lines  from  Locksley 
Hall: 

In  the  Spring  a  livelier  iris  changes  on  the 

burnished  dove, 
In  the  Spring  a  young  man's  fancy  lightly 

turns  to  thoughts  of  love, 

it  would  be  rejected  by  ninety-and-nine  editors  with 
polite  regrets,  etc.  But  my  Lord  Alfred  Tennyson 
knew  a  thing  or  two — about  burnished  doves  and 
the  fancy  of  young  men.  Lapwings  and  robins  also 
came  within  his  ken : 

In  the  Spring  a  fuller  crimson  comes  upon 

the  robin's  breast, 
In    the    Spring   the    wanton    lapwing    gets 

himself  another  crest. 

Your  circumspect  editor,  wary  of  all  Spring 
bards,  by  this  time  has  suspected  that  he  is  about 
to  read  another  tale  of  Spring  love.  Guilty,  0 
Honorable!  What  follows  is  a  tale  of  Love.  It 
concerns  the  love  of  Tommy  McCarthy  and  a  girl 
named but  on  with  the  story! 

Outside,  the  night  gave  unmistakable  evidence 
of  the  arrival  of  Spring.  Through  the  open  window 
from  where  he  sat,  Tommy  McCarthy  could  hear 
the  intermittent  drip-drip  from  the  eaves  of  the 
house-tops — the  remnant  of  a  month-old  snowstorm 
succumbing  to  the  equinoctial  zephyrs.  Over  the 
backyard  every-man's-land  floated  a  heterogeneous 
barrage  of  the  city's  noises  of  the  night:  the  solici- 
tous crooning  of  a  patient  young  housewife  over  the 
near-slumbering  bundle,  her  first-born,  cradled 
snugly  in  her  arms,  as  she  rocked  it  to  and  fro; 
the  piquant  strains  of  a  violin  which  pierced  the 
hum  of  minor  noises,  reflecting  the  effort  of  a  wilful 
young  virtuoso  who,  with  commendable  diligence, 
repeated  many  times  a  particularly  difficult  bar; 
as  if  trying  to  out-do  each  other  in  an  attempt  to 
obtain  the  casual  listener's  attention,  John  McCor- 
mack's  plaintive  notes  vied,  against  formidable 
odds,  with  Enrico  Caruso's  voluminous  aria,  which 
carolled  the  night  in  all  its  Victrolean  abandon. 

No,  there  was  no  doubt  of  it,  Spring  was  here! 

In  his  hand  Tommy  held  a  picture,  and  gazed 
at  it  affectionately — as  lovers  down  the  years  have 
been  wont  to  do  when  gazing  at  the  picture  of  one 
beloved  by  them.  Reminiscence  took  him  back  to 
other  days  of  his  life — days  when,  yielding  to  secret 
urgings,  "life"  had  appeared  to  him,  in  its  ultimate 
purpose,  as  the  pursuit  of  "happiness"  that  meant 
affluence,  no  matter  how  achieved,  and  the  attend- 


ant pleasures  that  money  could  purchase.  As  for  the 
main  business  of  life,  of  which  he  was  reminded 
constantly  by  the  adjurations  of  his  mother  and 
voices  from  the  pulpit — well,  that  would  be  attended 
to  probably,  he  conjectured,  though  definite  ways 
and  means  were  mentally  pigeon-holed  with  other 
things  which  Tommy  vaguely  intended  to  do.  The 
goal  of  the  next  ten  or  fifteen  years  would  be  to  get 
money.  Thus  the  philosophy  of  Tommy  at  seven- 
teen. And  then  something  happened.  That  some- 
thing came  by  way  of  a  Girl. 

ONE  Sunday  evening  he  met  her  as  she  was 
going  into  old  St.  Mary's.  He  was  wondering 
at  the  time  how  he  might  "kill"  the  evening. 

"  'Lo,  Rosie,"  he  called. 

"Oh,  hello  Tommy,"  she  returned. 

"Goin'  to  church?"  Inasmuch  as  she  was  at 
the  moment  on  the  steps  of  the  church  he  was 
hastily  conscious  of  the  banality  of  his  question. 

"No,"  she  replied  gaily,  her  eyes  twinkling. 
"I  was  just  about  to  step  into  an  aeroplane  for  a 
flying  visit  to  Kamchatka." 

"Gosh!"  he  cried.  "You're  funny."  Secretly 
he  marveled  at  her  knowledge  of  geography  and 
wondered  where  Kamchatka  was. 

In  an  instant  she  was  contrite.  "Forgive  me, 
Tommy,"  she  said,  a  winsome  smile  dimpling  her 
cheeks.  Before  that  smile,  the  Sphinx  of  Gizeh 
might  have  become  articulate  and  shouted:  "For- 
given!" 

There's  no  need  of  describing  Rose  McLoughlin. 
In  some  of  her  moods  you've  seen  her  in  the 
Madonnas  of  Michelangelo  and  Botticelli;  in  other 
moods,  her  facial  lineaments,  sui  generis,  adorn  the 
respectable  magazine  covers.  For  six  days  out  of 
every  seven,  from  8 :30  to  5  :30,  Rose  "pounded  the 
keys"  in  the  office  of  B.  Hertzheimer  &  Sons, 
Imported  Skins,  filling  the  somewhat  exalted  posi- 
tion of  "secretary"  to  no  less  a  personage  than  B. 
himself.  Though  B.'s  relationship  with  the  work-a- 
day  business  world  might  be  indicated  by  his 
favorite  cliche,  "Yours  received  and  contents  noted," 
Rose's  viewpoint  of  life  involved  more  of  giving 
than  of  receiving.  For  her  secretarial  ministrations 
to  the  head  of  the  firm  she  was  paid — but  what's 
the  use  of  going  into  sociological  statistics?  Three- 
fourths  of  her  weekly  wages  went  to  the  support  of 
an  infirm  mother.  With  the  balance  she  clothed 
herself,  defrayed  the  other  incidental  expenses  of 
urban  life,  contributed  to  charity  "drives",  the  parish 
school  and  debt  association,  gave  freely  every  week 
to  the  church's  indigent  by  way  of  the  poor  box, 
assisted  struggling  missionaries  in  distant  lands  by 
her  prayers  (and  generous  contributions  of  money, 
from  time  to  time,  to  the  Society  for  the  Propagation 
of  the  Faith),  and  was  rarely  able  to  ignore  the 


THE  1*  SIGN 


piteous  appeals  of  such  mendicant  beggars  as  one 
meets  in  the  thoroughfares  of  New  York.  What 
was  left  she  spent  on  frivolous  amusements! 

fUCH  a  girl  was  Rose.  As  you  have  already 
surmised,  beneath  her  shabby  shirtwaist  there 
throbbed  a  heart  of  gold — or  whatever  sub- 
stance composes  the  heart  of  one  whose  thought 
is  constantly  of  others.  But  let  us  not  delay  her 
on  the  steps  of  St.  Mary's.  Even  now  her  thought 
is  of  Another. 

"Coming  in  to  Vespers  ?"    she  asked  of  Tommy. 
"Me?     Guess  not,"  he  retorted. 
To  another  person  it  would  have  been  a  chal- 
lenge for  a  battle  of  persuasions.     Not  so  to  Rose. 
All  she  said  was,  "Oh,  excuse  me!"     But  volumes 
could  not  describe  the  supreme  artistry  of  the  in- 
flection of  her  voice.     In  it  were  mobilized  and  uti- 
zed  all  the  gentle  graces  that  are  the  prerogatives 
by    heritage    of    the    daughters    of    Eve.      Tommy 
escorted  her  up  the  aisle  of  the  church — and  stayed 
for  Vespers. 

That  had  been  three  years  ago.  Sitting  now 
by  a  window  that  looked  down  upon  a  labyrinth 
of  clotheslines  on  this  evening  of  the  springtime, 
Tommy  involuntarily  shuddered  at  the  thought  of 
the  goal  of  his  earlier  'teens.  Gratitude  and  love 
warmed  his  heart  as  he  contemplated  the  gentle 
influence  that  had  set  him  on  the  right  track  of  life, 
and  his  eyes  moistened  wistfully  as  he  gazed  upon 
the  picture  he  held  in  his  hand. 

"It  was  You,"  he  murmured,  affectionately. 
"Only  You.  I  love  You."  And  he  pressed  it  to  his 
lips. 

And  how  he  had  arrived  at  the  most  important 
milestone  on  the  forked  highway  of  his  life.  For 
tomorrow  Tom  and  Rose,  for  better,  for  worse — 

A  neighborly  phonograph,  as  if  reflecting  the 
universal  spirit  of  Youth  in  the  springtime,  gave 
forth  the  noble  strains  of  the  Wedding  March  from 
Lohengrin. 

The  following  morning  an  unusually  large 
number  of  parishioners  foregathered  at  St.  Mary's, 
for  both  Tom  and  Rose  were  parish  favorites.  The 
sun  shone  down  its  golden  benediction  for  their 
great  day.  Father  O'Toole,  the  saintly  old  pastor, 
offered  up  a  Mass  especially  for  them,  and  at  the 
end  of  it  gave  each  of  them  his  blessing  and 
addressed  to  them  an  affectionate  word  of  farewell. 
Friends  came  to  the  railroad  station  to  see 
them  off  on  their  journey.  No  relatives  accom- 
panied Rose — her  mother  had  died  a  year  previous. 
When  the  train  was  about  to  depart,  Tom's  mother 
enfolded  him  in  his  arms. 

"Good-bye,  dear,"  she  sobbed;  but  withal,  a 
radiant  happiness  lined  her  face.  From  her 
corsage  bouquet  she  plucked  a  hothouse  rose  and 
pinned  it  on  the  lapel  of  his  coat.  "One  of  God's 
roses  for  you,  dear,"  she  whispered,  "as  a  remem- 
brance from  me." 

There  ensued  such  hustle  and  bustle  as  usually 


accompanies  the  departure  of  friends  upon  a  journey. 
Two  trains  left  the  station  simultaneously.  From  a 
rear  platform  Tom  waved  good-bye  to  his  friends 
and  threw  kisses  to  his  mother. 

Thus  the  story  ends.  Youth  and  springtime 
and  love — it's  an  old  story,  but  none  the  less  beauti- 
ful for  its  antiquity;  love  that  means  wedding  bells 
for  some;  for  others — 

ON  the  same  day,  as  dusk  was  purpling  the  sky 
over  a  Pennsylvania  country  village,  a  priest 
and  a  young  man  were  walking  up  a  hill  on 
the  crest  of  which,  serene  and  solemn,  stood  a 
Foreign-Mission  seminary.  It  might  have  been 
a  twilight  borrowed  from  Heaven.  A  hidden  brook, 
held  in  bondage  for  months  by  an  unrelenting 
Winter,  now  rippled  a  song  of  thanksgiving  for 
its  release  to  the  God  of  the  seasons.  Early 
marigold  and  azalea  and  meadow  saffron  combined 
in  a  conflagration  of  color  and  wafted  up  their 
fragrance  as  an  incense  to  the  same  God.  A 
lonesome  whip-poor-will  whistled  to  his  mate  to 
join  him  in  a  vesper  song  to  the  Almighty  Lord; 
from  his  vantage  perch  on  the  topmost  branch  of  a 
burgeoning  roadside  elm,  a  bobolink  trilled  an 
ecstatic  rhapsody  to  its  Maker;  a  meadowlark  on  a 
weather-worn  fence-post  fluted  a  joyous  Te  Deum 
before  retiring  for  the  night. 

Few  words,  after  their  first  affectionate  greet- 
ing, had  been  exchanged  between  the  priest  and  the 
youth  during  their  walk  up  the  hill  from  the  little 
railroad  station  at  the  foot  of  it.  As  a  turn  in  the 
winding  path  gave  them  an  unobstructed  view  of 
the  western  skyline  they  came  to  a  halt  simultane- 
ously, and  stood  as  if  transfixed.  The  blazing  glory 
of  the  sunset  held  them  in  its  spell.  Finally  the 
youth  spoke : 

"It  reminds  one  of  Francis  Thompson's  'flaming 
monstrance  of  the  West,'  doesn't  it,  Father?" 

"Yes,  my  boy,"  answered  the  priest  in  an  ab- 
stracted sort  of  manner.  And  then,  as  if  returning 
to  the  subject  of  his  thoughts  that  had  been  inter- 
rupted by  the  boy's  remark :  "Tell  me,  are  you  sure 
you  are  not  making  a  mistake  in  entering  the  priest- 
hood?" 

The  boy  dropped  the  traveling-bag  he  was 
carrying.    His  face  reflected  his  amazement. 

"Why, — why  Father!  So  that's  what  had  made 
you  so  silent  on  our  way  up  from  the  station!  Why 
on  earth  do  you  ask  such  a  question  at  such  a  time?" 
The  boy  smiled  as  he  said  this,  and  in  his  voice  was 
a  tor.e  that  betokened  a  long-standing  friendship 
with  the  priest. 

"For  two  reasons,  son.  In  the  first  place  I 
noticed,  a  few  moments  ago  when  you  thought  I 
wasn't  looking,  that  you  surreptitiously  took  a 
picture  from  your  pocket  and  kissed  it.  And  in 
the  second  place,  I've  been  wondering  about  the  rose 
in  the  lapel  of  your  coat.     I  observed  secretly  that 


THE  +  SIGN 


you  have  gazed  at  it  tenderly,  as  if  you  were  caress- 
ing its  giver." 

A  youthful  laugh  rippled  over  the  quiet  country- 
side. The  boy  made  an  obeisance  to  the  priest.  His 
eyes  sparkled. 

"The  rose,  0  Holy  Inquisitor,"  he  replied,  "was 
given  to  me  by  one  I  love  most  dearly.  She  is  my 
mother." 

The  priest  faced  about  suddenly.  He  ap- 
proached the  boy  and  placed  his  hands  on  his 
shoulders. 

"Forgive  me,  Tom,"  he  said.  Then  his  voice 
trembled.  "Keep  it  forever,"  he  said,  touching  the 
flower. 

The  boy's  hand  dove  into  his  inner  coat  pocket. 
"Here  is  the  picture,  Father,"  he  said,  a  slight  feel- 


ing of  embarrassment  crimsoning  his  face.  "I  plead 
guilty." 

It  was  a  picture  of  the  bleeding  Sacred  Heart 
of  Jesus. 

"I'll  keep  the  rose  as  long  as  I  live,"  he  said. 
"And  my  little  picture,  too.  Somehow,  I've  become 
greatly  attached  to  it.  It  was  given  to  me  three 
years  ago,  one  Sunday  evening  after  Vespers,  by  a 
girl — oh,  such  a  girl,  Father!  Without  ever  saying 
a  word  of  reproach  to  me,  she  changed  the  whole 
course  of  my  thoughts  and  my  distorted  philosophy 
of  life;  and  when  I  got  home  that  night  I  actually 
wept  for  having  caused  those  drops  of  Sacred  Blood. 
Rose  McLoughlin  was  her  name.  Beginning  to-day 
it  will  be  Sister  Mary  Angelica,  of  the  Order  of 
St.  Dominic.    A  wonderful  girl,  Father." 

From  the  belfry  of  the  seminary  on  the  hill 
came  the  music  of  the  Angelus  bell. 


Behold,   I   Come!" 

Murtagh    Moore 

Upon  what  dire  catastrophe  does  His  anxious  Vision  fall, 

When  in  that  hushed  momentous  hour  His  Father  hears  His  call: 

"Behold  I  Come  ! — none  other  may — Thy"  Will,  O  God,  to  do, 

"In  form  of  Man,  \\>ith  Body1  joined!"  What  sorrow  meets  His  v"eiw? 

There  are  Wanderers  in  the  Vale  of  Death  where  dismal  shadows  fall; 

All  wilfully*  had  they  entered  mid  the  beetling  barriers'  thrall: 
No  rift  of  blue  abov*e  them  that  might  presage  hope  to  come, 

Mo  shepherd  there  to  rally  them  and  lead  them  gladly  home. 

There  are  prisoners  held  securely  mid  dark,  impervious  walls, 
Where  through  the  narrow  casement  a  single  sunbeam  falls: 

A  lane  to  glory  forfeited:  it  mocks  the  drooping  eye, 

While  a  winged  songster  overheard  marks  summer  passing  by. 

There  are  rebels  lying  bounded — their  old  defiance  spent, — 
The  flaming  sword  relentless  beckons  them  to  banishment: 

Of  all  the  splendid  sons  of  God,  moved  with  pity  at  their  woe; 
None  may  a  fitting  ransom  bring,  or  snatch  them  from  the  foe. 


But  what  if  He  the  task  had  shunn'd  in  that  momentous  hour, 
Or  with  the  chalice  at  His  Lips  in  the  shade  of  olive  bower 

Had  paused  and  let  the  sw"ord  descend — had  uttered  not  the  plea: 
"Thy"  will  be  done:  Behold  I  come:  Mine  be  the  penalty!" 


Retreats   and   the   La}?   Apostolate 


Edward  W.  Joyci 


m 


EN  often  speculate  concerning  the  probable 
feelings  of  a  being  from  a  distant  planet 
if  he  were  suddenly  to  find  himself  set 
upon  this  earth.  They  delight  in  picturing 
his  surprise  at  the  mechanical  marvels  of  our  age, 
at  our  ingenious  means  of  communication  and  trans- 
portation. Beyond  a  doubt  he  would  find  himself 
bewildered  at  the  complexity  of  our  vast  industrial 
system  and  would  stand  aghast  at  the  height  of  our 
gigantic  office  buildings.  Yet,  withal,  one  who  stops 
to  survey  the  present  condition  of  life  here  may 
pause  to  think  of  the  disdain  with  which  such  a 
visitor  might  contemplate  the  world. 

From  no  matter  what  part  of  the  universe  he 


Built  over  the  palace  of  the 
saints  for  whom  it  is  named  and 
who  were  martyred  in  the  fourth 
century.  Motherhouse  of  the  Pas- 
sionist  Order.  Probably  the  oldest 
retreat  house  for  priests  and 
laymen  in  the  world. 


and  the  purpose  of  their  bestowal,  and  that  God 
counts  for  but  little  in  his  calculations.  In  other 
words  man's  efforts  have  perverted  the  natural  God- 
made  order  and  instead  of  attaining  the  bliss  of  an 
earthly  paradise  we  have  fashioned  a  terrestrial 
limbo. 

For  years  nations  looked  with  covetous  eyes 
upon  their  neighbors'  possessions.  With  studious 
care  they  bred  hatred  in  the  hearts  of  their  children. 
Carefully  they  turned  every  advancement  of  science 
into  means  for  the  destruction  of  life  and  property. 
And  lo!  the  world  awoke  to  the  clamor  of  war 
and  stood  aghast  to  see  its  very  life  blood  course 
in   torrents   from   a  million  wounds.     For   decades 


.MONASTERY   AND   15 At 


JOHN   AND   PALL,   ROME 


might  come  he  must  have  observed  that  order  is 
the  first  law  of  all  creation.  By  the  exercise  of 
ordinary  intelligence  he  must  easily  have  deduced 
that,  as  lower  forms  of  inanimate  and  animate 
nature  serve  those  that  are  higher,  so  should  the 
things  of  earth  serve  man  that  he  might  in  turn 
better  serve  his  Creator.  It  is  therefore  not  only 
possible,  but  most  certain,  that  such  a  being  as  we 
here  conjure  up  should  look  upon  our  earth  as  a 
very  sorry  habitation  and  man  as  a  creature  deserv- 
ing only  of  pity,  if  not  contempt. 

For,  is  it  not  true,  that  instead  of  obeying  the 
laws  of  nature  we  are  in  open  revolt  against  them; 
that  instead  of  maintaining  order  we  have  regressed 
almost  to  a  condition  of  chaos?  Instead  of  com- 
manding and  utilizing  the  free  gifts  of  nature's 
bounty  has  it  not  come  to  the  point  where  man  is 
becoming  more  and  more  a  slave  of  his  own  handi- 
work? And  with  such  developments  it  is  becoming 
more  evident  that  man,  blinded  with  worldly  satis- 
factions, is  forgetting  the   source  of  his   blessings 


agitators  played  upon  the  passions  of  avarice  and 
injustice  that  lurk  in  every  heart  and  we  find  Capital 
and  Labor  at  each  others  throats.  For  generations 
men  preached  class  hatred,  the  "rights"  of  the  pro- 
letariat, the  evils  of  property. 

And  again,  we  were  roused  to  the  horrors  of 
Bolshevism  in  Soviet  Russia.  For  four  centuries 
false  Christs  and  false  prophets  have  preached  that 
man  needs  bow  to  no  authority  beyond  his  own  will, 
that  marriage  is  not  a  sacrament,  but  a  mere  civil 
contract,  that  one's  own  conscience,  however  per- 
verse, should  be  his  sole  guide  and  we  find  only 
what  we  should  expect;  viz,  that  the  world  is  over- 
run by  the  bastard  brood  of  murders,  divorce,  birth 
control,  mob  rule,  atheistic  schools,  juvenile  delin- 
quency, rampant  selfishness  and  corruption  in  high 
places  and  in  low.  Yet  when  a  nation  becomes 
riven  and  nearly  paralyzed  by  class  warfare;  when 
regard  for  the  sanctity  of  human  life  no  longer 
prevents  the  wholesale  destruction  of  God's  master- 
piece, when  strong  nations  oppress  weak  and  stop 


THE  +  SIGN 


at  nothing  in  their  lust  for  gain,  when  a  world- 
encircling  war  threatens  the  very  existence  of 
human  institutions  and  civilization  itself  totters, 
men  curse  God  and  ask — "What's  wrong  with  the 
world?" 

^tt^HAT'S  wrong  with  the  world?  I  answer, 
V  I  /  nothing.  It  is  only  what  man  has  made  it. 
^*>^  Then  whence  come  our  troubles?  We  apply 
the  laws  of  science  to  matter  and  the  result  is  always 
the  same.  But  it  makes  no  difference  what  laws 
we  formulate  and  apply  to  human  relations,  they 
always  fail.  We  have  painstakingly  studied  every 
phase  of  economics,  sociology  and  politics  and  have 
carefully  put  their  teachings  into  practice,  yet  we 


the  soul  of  man  is  infested  with  a  poisonous  virus 
and  until  the  poison  is  expelled  no  cure  can  be 
effected.  Virtue  cannot  be  legislated  into  man  as 
medicine  is  administered.  It  is  of  its  very  nature 
interior  and  must  arise  from  the  well-springs  of  a 
pure  soul. 

^^^HE  greatest  need  of  society  today  is,  therefore, 
I)  some  means  of  reconstituting  man,  of  exorcis- 
^*"^  ing  worldliness  and  selfishness  from  his  heart, 
of  raising  his  thoughts  and  purposes  to  a  new  and 
higher  plane  and  purifying  his  soul.  Eminent 
leaders  in  all  walks  of  life  admit  this  fact  but  there 
they  stop.  They  name  the  cure  but  fail  to  produce 
it   in  concrete   form.     Still,   a   remedy   for  present 


Retreat  Move- 
ment started  Febru- 
ary, 1911.  Since 
then  247  retreats 
have  been  given. 
Average  attendance 
27.  In  all  over 
10,000  men  of  all 
ranks  of  society  have 
made  retreats..  The 
Laymen  s  Guild  has 
4.000  members.  Its 
success  is  largely 
due  to  the  personal 
co-operation  of  Card. 
O'Connell. 


ST.   GABRIEL'S   MONASTERY.    ROSTON.   MA.' 


are  as  far  as  ever  from  the  goal  of  human  happiness. 
Is  it  not  time  that  we  tried  a  different  course? 
Like  the  wanderer  who  failed  to  see  the  forest 
because  of  the  trees  we  have  been  so  occupied  with 
the  problems  of  men  that  we  have  failed  to  compre- 
hend man!  B'or  too  long  have  we  been  engaged 
with  the  superstructure  of  life.  Is  it  not  meet  that 
we  should  inspect  its  foundations  to  make  sure  that 
every  stone  is  strong  and  true  and  in  its  proper 
place?  In  short  let  us  start  at  the  beginning  and 
consider,  not  men  in  the  aggregate,  but  man  the 
individual. 

The  root  of  our^troubles  lies,  not  with  society 
as  a  whole  but  with  the  men  who  constitute  society. 
It  were  folly  to  suppose  that  society  can  be  any 
better  than  its  component  members.  And  bitter 
experience  has  proved  that  man  cannot  be  put  into 
a  test  tube  and  his  actions  foretold,  as  with  a  com- 
bination of  chemicals,  because  man  has  a  will  that 
is  free  to  follow  its  own  choosing.    In  a  word,  then, 


conditions  must  exist.  In  fact  it  does  exist  and  has 
always  existed.  The  means  of  society's  salvation 
abides  in  the  lay-men's  retreat  houses  throughout 
the  world. 

A  retreat,  by  reforming  a  man,  accomplishes 
the  work  most  essential  to  social  welfare.  No  other 
means  is  so  effective.  No  device  of  idealistic 
reformers  can  possibly  be  so  certain  of  success. 
The  retreat  begins  social  regeneration  at  the  only 
logical  starting-point  because,  by  purifying  the  soul 
and  properly  directing  the  will  of  man,  the  social 
unit,  it  lays  deep  and  strong  the  foundations  of 
human  society  of  which  he  is  a  member.  It  is  not 
only  impossible  for  any  other  agency  to  achieve 
such  a  result  so  easily  and  quickly,  but  it  is  also 
true  that  no  ether  cure  is  so  lasting. 

To  one  who  has  never  made  a  retreat  of  three 
or  more  days  in  a  Passionist  Monastery  or  other 
retreat  house  the  above  statements  may  seem 
exaggerated.      Those    who    have    experienced    the 


THE  1*  SIGN 


sublime  transformation  that  occurs  during  the  time 
of  a  retreat,  however,  will  certainly  agree  with  my 
conclusions.  For  there  is  no  experience  in  the  life 
of  the  average  layman  to  compare  with  that  of 
making  a  retreat.  To  attempt  to  describe  the  spirit- 
ual change  undergone  during  a  retreat  is  to  call  upon 
language  to  do  the  impossible. 

Can  one  describe  color  to  a  person  born  blind? 
Or  the  beauties  of  Dante  to  an  illiterate?  Just  so 
is  it  most  difficult  to  convey  an  adequate  conception 
of  the  hidden  glories  of  our  faith  that  gush  forth 
in  radiant  splendor  upon  the  vision  as  the  retreat 
director,  with  meticulous  care,  like  a  skilful  surgeon, 
lays  open  to  view  the  innermost  recesses  of  one's 
soul.     In  periods  of  meditation  what  celestial  tor- 


upon  him  with  convincing  clarity  he  has  never 
before  known.  At  the  foot  of  the  cross  he  reads 
through  his  tears  of  remorse  the  infinite  wickedness 
of  sin.  In  contemplation  of  the  glorious  Resurrec- 
tion he  learns  the  endless  reward  of  a  life  well  spent. 

iy^ITH  sadness  for  his  past  misdeeds,  yet  filled 
Til  with  joyous  gratitude  that  God  has  spared 
him  to  make  this  retreat,  he  kneels  at  the  feet 
of  Christ's  representative  in  the  tribunal  of  penance. 
From  a  heart  sick  with  sin,  but  now  resolved  as 
never  before  to  spend  the  remainder  of  his  life  in 
the  only  way  worth  while — in  God's  service — he 
pours  forth  the  age-old  story  of  human  weaknesses ; 
and  arises,  free  from  sin,  God's  friend  once  more. 


Headquarters 
of  the  Lay- 
men's Retreat 
Movement  i  n 
the  .  Western 
Province.  Thus 
far  retreats  for 
laymen  have 
not  been  so  fre- 
quent in  the 
Middle  West  as 
in  the  East.  It 
is  .  confidently 
expected  that 
in  a  short  time 
the  Movement 
will  make  great 
progress. 


PASSIONIST   MONASTERY   WITH    PROPOSED   MONASTIC   CHURCH.   CI 


rents  of  grace  flood  one's  innermost  being  till  his 
soul-thirst  is  appeased  and  his  cups  runneth  over! 
Yes,  and,  under  skilful  guidance,  what  putrid  sores 
of  sin  reveal  themselves  in  the  unfathomed  depths 
of  one's  soul  to  which  he  may  have  long  denied  the 
sunlight  of  sanctifying  grace  which  alone  can  cleanse 
and  purify  it! 

For  three  days  or  more  he  lives  in  the  cloistered 
quiet  of  the  monastery,  inspired  by  the  edifying 
example  of  the  priests  and  students  with  whom  he 
dwells.  During  silence-periods,  in  the  solitude  of 
his  room,  he  meditates  upon  the  lessons  so  calmly 
yet  effectively  developed  during  conferences  in  the 
beautiful  choir  chapel.  Away  from  the  turmoil  and 
strife  of  shop  and  factory  and  office,  he  has  time 
for  reflection  upon  the  true  value  of  life.  In  the 
scales  of  calm  reason  he  weighs  pleasure  against 
virtue,  heaven  against  hell,  time  against  eternity. 
The  shortness  of  life,  the  folly  of  worldliness,  dawn 


At  holy  Mass  he  receives  into  his  bosom  the  Great 
Physician  who  pours  into  his  soul  the  oil  of  mercy 
and  the  wine  that  maketh  virgins  and  binds  up  his 
spiritual  wounds  as  only  God  knows  how.  As  the 
retreat  ends  he  receives  the  Papal  Blessing  which 
obliterates  completely  in  God's  sight  all  temporal 
punishment  due  for  his  past  offences.  He  is  once 
more  as  he  was  in  the  days  of  his  spotless  infancy : 
and  his  heart  sings  within  him  for  he  is  filled  with 
the  "peace  that  surpasseth  all  understanding."  And, 
with  pure  heart  and  a  will  so  firmly  steeled  as  to 
make  him  stronger  than  a  thousand  men,  he  goes 
forth  again  to  meet  the  temptations  of  daily  life, 
equipped  now  to  battle  manfully  with  "the  world, 
the  flesh  and  the  devil." 

Yes,  he  returns  to  the  same  world,  but  a  far 
different  man.  Into  his  house  he  brings  love, 
patience,  forbearance.  To  his  trade  or  profession 
he  carries  honesty  and  justice  into  all  his  dealings. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


Among  his  companions  he  is  marked  for  his  clean 
tongue  and  his  devotion  to  truth.  In  his  parish  he 
becomes  an  indefatigable  aid  to  his  pastor  in  the 
furtherance  of  all  good  works.  If  he  be  in  public 
life,  there  too  does  his  faith  shine  forth  as  a  beacon 
light  and  he  proves  himself  by  fidelity  to  his  trust. 
To  all  with  whom  he  comes  in  contact  he  becomes 
a  living  example  that  gives  the  lie  to  those  who 
scoff  at  religion  and  scandalize  others  by  the  folly 
of  their  ways. 


350,000  did  so  in  only  ten  years.  The  sublime  faith 
of  the  Breton  peasant,  so  beautifully  immortalized 
by  Pasteur,  is  due  largely  to  the  retreats  they  have 
regularly  made  for  the  past  250  years.  Especially 
worthy  of  note  is  the  case  of  Buenos  Ayres  where, 
after  five  years  it  is  recorded  that  "the  whole 
character  of  the  people  had  changed."  Mark  well 
that  fact,  for  it  proves  the  truth  of  my  thesis  that 
in  the  retreat  movement  lies  the  perfect  solution 
of  our  social  problems. 


GROUP  OF  RETREANTS  AT  HOLY  CROSS  PREPARATORY  COLLEGE.  DUNKIRK.  N.  Y. 

Beautifully  located  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Erie,  this  college  is  an  ideal  place 
for  a  few  days  retirement.  Retreats  were  inaugurated  here  during  the  Summer. 
One  was  given  every  week  with  an  average  attendance  of  twenty  retreatants. 


XS  such  a  work  worth  while?  "By  their  fruits 
you  shall  know  them."  By  the  results 
achieved  is  the  retreat  movement  willing  to 
be  judged.  Retreats  are  not  a  novelty  but,  on  the 
contrary,  they  have  existed  in  the  Church  from  the 
earliest  days  when  hermits  withdrew  into  the  desert 
for  contemplation  up  to  now  when  popular  retreats 
are  organized  on  a  large  scale.  During  the  life  time 
of  St.  Vincent  de  Paul  20,000  men  made  retreats 
at  St.  Lazzare  in  France.  Later  the  movement 
spread  to  every  civilized  quarter  of  the  globe.  In 
the  city  of  Buenos  Ayres  alone  30,000  people  made 
retreats  in  the  space  of  five  years,  while  in  Chili 


Without  resorting  to  base  pessimism,  it  is  true 
that  no  thinking  man  can  look  complacently  upon 
present-day  conditions.  Half  the  world  is  starving 
or  in  revolution.  Our  own  beloved  country  is  torn 
with  dissention  of  a  dozen  hues.  Social  unrest  has 
become  almost  a  peril.  An  alarming  increase  in  the 
number  of  divorces,  accompanied  by  a  frightful 
diminution  in  the  birth-rate  in  many  quarters,  attest 
to  the  prevalence  of  human  depravity.  Sixty  mil- 
lions of  our  people  care  so  little  for  God  and  religion 
that  they  do  not  so  much  as  trouble  themselves  to 
declare  theii  adherence  to  any  church  whatsoever. 

And    hand    in    hand    with    such    indifferentism 


THE  1*  SIGN 


stalks  the  grim  spectre  that  history  has  recorded 
oft  before — open  hostility  to  the  Church.  We  see  it 
in  proposed  legislation  to  close  the  parochial  schools, 
as  in  Michigan;  in  the  Sterling-Towner  bill  for 
federal  control  of  schools,  in  the  fanatical  statements 
of  some  who  would  use  the  eighteenth  amendment 
to  prevent  the  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass.  As  a 
matter  of  fact  if  ever  we  have  a  Congress  containing 
a  sufficient  number  of  men  hostile  or  indifferent  to 
our  rights  as  Catholic  citizens  they  may  by  a  single 
ballot  so  change  the  prohibition  enforcement  law  as 
to  ban  the  Mass.  The  growing  frequency  of  race 
riots,  murders  and  lynchings,  in  the  North  and  East 
as  well  as  in  the  South  and  West  bear  shameful 
witness  to  the  lowered  tone  of  popular  morality. 


men  of  good  will, — that  is  the  pressing  need." 

The  lay  apostolate!  That  should  be  our  watch 
word!  We  should  strive  for  the  creation  of  a 
large  body  of  men,  militant  Catholics,  firm  in  their 
faith,  unswerving  in  their  adherence  to  the  right  and 
prepared  at  all  times  to  raise  their  voice  in  its 
defence..  Give  to  the  world  a  sufficient  number  of 
lay  apostles,  ready  and  able  to  meet  and  overcome 
the  monster  of  injustice  and  evil  whether  it  be  in 
the  halls  of  state,  the  councils  of  business,  the 
forums  of  labor  or  the  family  circle,  and  you  will 
overcome  radicalism,  purify  the  stage,  the  cinema 
and  the  press,  allay  unrest  and  renew  the  face  of 
the  earth.  He  who  participates  in  this  movement 
furthers  a  two-fold  result;  his  own  sanctificatinn  and 


Was  dedicated  last  November. 
Especially  designed  to  meet  the  con- 
veniences of  the  retreatants.  Will 
accomodate  40.  Retreats  are  given 
every  month  with  an  average  atten- 
dance of  20.  Plans  are  pending  for 
organization  of  Retreat  Guild. 


RETREAT  HOUSE   ATTACHED   TO   ST.   PAUL'S   MONASTERY, 


XT  is  time  we  took  definite  organized  steps  for 
the  rescue  of  our  land  from  the  sinister  blight 
that  overshadows  it.  The  call  is  for  lay 
apostles,  not  merely  educated  men, — that  title  has 
become  a  dangerous  mis-nomer  —  but  retreat- 
trained  men!  Today  we  need  Knights  of  the  Faith 
tried  in  the  fires  of  discipline,  drilled  in  the  school 
of  penance  and  imbued  with  the  ardor  of  Crusaders. 
We  need  men  of  every  age  and  class,  trade  and  pro- 
fession, able  to  stand  their  ground  in  the  defence  of 
truth,  justice  and  morality,  yea  ready  to  invade 
the  temple  of  Moloch  and  scatter  the  sybaritic  hosts 
that  threaten  to  undermine  the  fortress  of  civilization 
itself.  The  enemy  is  within  our  very  gates  and 
naught  but  those  clean  of  heart  and  strong  in  faith 
can  expel  him. 

To  quote  Rev.  Fr.  Archambault  S.  J.  "An  elite 
alone  can  save  us.  To  form  a  nucleus  of  Christians 
tempered  to  resist  the  assaults  of  the  foe,  impreg- 
nated with  the  apostolic  spirit,  ready  to  waive  their 
personal  interests,  to  penetrate  the  masses,  to 
strengthen  the  faith  that  totters,  to  rally  the  scattered 


the  salvation  of  society  and  of  our  beloved  country 
from  the  slough  of  decadance  into  which  we  are 
fast  slipping. 

^^^HE  issue  is  plain!  The  means  are  at  hand! 
t  J  Naught  remains  but  the  necessary  support. 
To  us  comes  the  challenge!  This  work  is 
ours;  and  we  laymen  must  see  it  through.  ..We  stand 
at  a  crucial  point  in  history  at  a  time  when  a  few 
lay  apostles  like  the  three  hundred  Spartans  in  the 
pass  at  Thermopylae  can,  and  must,  roll  back  the 
ten  thousand  who  rush  to  the  assult.  In  the  retreat 
movement  and  retreat-trained  men  lies  the  hope  of 
America,  if  not  of  the  world.  We  must  do  all  in 
our  power  to  strengthen  and  spread  retreats  for 
laymen  lest  it  be  said  that  in  the  hour  of  peril  we 
were  recreant  to  the  interests  of  the  Church  and 
America.  And  no  man  can  fortell  what  a  blessed 
reward  awaits  those  by  whose  interest  in  this  work 
thousands  of  souls  shall  be  saved  to  enjoy  eternity 
with  Him  who  set  the  divine  example  of  self- 
sacrifice  which  is  the  ideal  of  the  lay-apostle. 


The  White   Rose  of  Lucca 

The  Stor?   of  Gemma  Galgani 

MATTHEW   KUEBEL 
2 — Life    at    School    and    Home 


^-p-^HEN  Signora  Galgani  died,  the  children 
■  I  ■  were  sent  to  ^ve>  ^or  a  while,  with  their 
\  I  /  relatives,  the  Landis.  The  sojourn  away 
v**>^  from  home  did  little  to  assuage  Gemma's 
sorrow.  The  circumstances  of  her  stay  with  her 
Aunt  Helen  only  accentuated  her  sense  of  loss. 
Helen  Landi,  though  a  devout  woman,  was  not  to 
be  compared  with  Signora  Galgani  for  spiritual 
culture.  Now,  there  was  no  one  to  take  Gemma  to 
daily  Mass;  or  to  visit  the  Blessed  Sacrament;  no 
one  to  take  her  every  week  to  confession,  of  which 
she  felt  great  need :  no  one  to  speak  to  her  of  Jesus 
as  her  mother  used  to  do. 

These  privations  were  a  real  suffering  to  the 
holy  child.  "Then,  indeed,"  she  tells  us,  "I  had 
to  weep  for  the  time  when  my  mamma  let  me  pray 
so  much."  Helen  Landi  did  not  dream  that  her 
beloved  niece  was  suffering.  She  had  hoped,  and 
even  tried,  to  keep  Gemma  with  her.  But  this  was 
not  to  be.  Gino,  the  only  one  at  home  with  his 
father,  wanted  Gemma  back,  and  so  did  Signor 
Galgani.  Besides,  he  experienced  some  anxiety 
about  the  education  of  his  children,  so  that  Gemma' 
with  her  brothers  and  sisters  arrived  home  at  Christ- 
mas 1886. 

Soon  after,  Gemma  was  sent  as  a  day  pupil  to 
the  Guerra  Institute  in  Lucca.  This  establishment, 
named  for  its  foundress,  Mother  Guerra,  was  con- 
ducted by  the  Sisters  of  St.  Zita,  who  were  in  high 
repute  as  teachers,  in  the  city.  This  arrangement 
filled  Gemma  with  joy.  She  knew  that  under  the 
guidance  of  teachers  consecrated  to  God  she  would 
have  ample  opportunities  to  indulge  her  childish 
pieties. 

We  know  from  her  own  words  that  she  was  not 
disappointed.  Later  in  life  she  affirmed  that  the 
Sisters'  school  had  been  a  paradise.  The  Sisters 
on  their  part  were  very  favorably  impressed  by  their 
new  pupil.  They  were  struck  by  her  seriousness, 
her  modesty,  and  the  candor  of  soul  that  radiated 
from  her  person  and  beamed  from  her  big  eyes. 
One  of  the  Sisters  said  to  her:  "Gemma,  Gemma, 
if  I  did  not  read  you  through  your  eyes,  I  should  not 
know  you." 

She  was  not  long  at  the  convent  before  she 
asked  for  something  that  was  very  dear  to  her  heart 
— to  make  her  First  Communion.  She  had  cherished 
a  great  love  for  Jesus  in  the  Blessed  Sacrament, 
the  effect,  no  doubt,  of  her  mother's  zealous  words 
about  the  sweetness  and  majesty  of  the  Hidden  God, 


and  the  ardent  faith  she  displayed  when  receiving 
Holy  Communion.  But  Gemma's  request  was  not 
taken  seriously  by  the  good  Sisters.  She  was  still 
very  young —  only  nine  years  of  age — and  custom 
was  against  her. 

(TILL  she  pleaded:  "Give  me  Jesus,  and  you 
will  see  how  good  I  shall  be.  I  shall  be 
quite  changed.  Give  Him  to  me.  I  so  long 
for  Him,  and  I  cannot  live  without  Him."  At  last 
the  chaplain,  the  Right  Rev.  John  Volpi,  gave  in  to 
her  repeated  entreaties.  "If  we  do  not  want  our 
Gemma  to  die  of  longing,"  he  told  her  father,  "we 
must  allow  her  to  go  to  Holy  Communion." 

Gemma's  happiness  when  this  decision  was 
made  cannot  be  described.  She  obtained  her 
father's  leave  to  stay  at  the  convent  while  she  pre- 
pared for  her  First  Communion.  She  arose  very 
early  the  next  morning,  and,  on  entering  the  convent, 
ran  at  once  to  the  chapel  to  thank  our  Lord  for  His 
latest  kindness. 

Then  an  immense  desire  welled  up  in  the  heart 
of  the  sweet  child,  to  know  all  about  Jesus.  At  her 
request,  when  the  other  children  had  retired,  her 
mistress  would  tell  her  stories  from  the  life  of  the 
Savior.  When  the  good  nun  would  come  to  the 
sufferings  of  Jesus — His  agony,  scourging,  crowning 
with  thorns,  and  crucifixion — Gemma  would  feel 
such  acute  pain  that  she  would  not  be  able  to  leave 
her  bed  the  next  day. 

The  lessons  on  the  Sacred  Passion  were  dis- 
continued; but  Gemma  made  up  for  this  by  listening 
with  absorbed  attention  to  the  instructions  given  by 
the  chaplain  to  the  first  communicants.  She  was 
particularly  struck  by  these  words :  "Whoever  feeds 
on  Jesus,  will  live  of  His  life."  Then  she  reasoned 
thus  with  herself:  "When  Jesus  comes  to  me, 
Jesus  will  live  in  me."  And  her  heart  became  all 
on  fire  with  longing  to  have  our  Lord  as  the  guest 
of  her  soul. 

Although  Gemma  had  always  been  an  angel  of 
innocence,  the  trifling  faults  she  had  committed 
awakened  in  her  the  desire  of  purifying  herself 
of  every  stain.  Young  as  she  was,  she  made  a 
general  confession,  and  was  not  satisfied  until  she 
had  returned  to  her  confessor  three  times. 

She  made  her  First  Communion  June  17,  1887. 
The  sentiments  she  experienced  on  that  memorable 
day,  she  herself  has  left  on  record.  "At  last  Sunday 
came!     I  arose  early  and  hastened  to  the  church, 


HE  1*  SIGN 


<5 


and  there  received  my  Lord  for  the  first  time.  All 
my  longing  was  satisfied;  now  I  understood  the 
promise :  'He  that  eateth  Me,  the  same  shall  live 
by  Me.'  Father,  I  cannot  explain  what  took  place 
between  me  and  Jesus  at  that  moment;  but  He 
revealed  Himself  to  my  wretched  soul.  I  felt  that 
the  delights  of  heaven  are  not  like  those  of  earth. 
I  was  seized  with 
the  desire  of  abid- 
ing forever  in  this 
union  with  my 
God.  I  felt  my- 
self more  than 
ever  detached 
from  the  world 
and  recollected  in 
God." 

J^HO  UGH 
I)  only  a  child 
^*"^  at  this  time, 
Gemma  made  use 
of  the  grace  of 
her  First  Com- 
munion for  the 
practical  acquisi- 
tion of  virtue. 
During  her  pre- 
paratory retreat, 
she  wrote  down 
several  resolu- 
tions —  no  doubt, 
at  the  suggestion 
of  the  Sisters.  In 
a  brief  numerical 
list,  she  recorded 
her  determination 
to  go  to  confes- 
sion and  receive 
Holy  Communion 
every  time,  as  if 
it  were  to  be  the 
last;  to  visit  often 
the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment; to  prepare 
for  the  feasts  of 
the  Blessed 
Mother  by  some 
little  act  of  pen- 
ance; and  every  evening  before  retiring  to  ask  her 
heavenly  Mother's  blessing;  to  keep  herself  always 
in  God's  presence;  and  to  repeat  an  ejaculation 
several  times  at  every  stroke  of  the  clock. 

Her  list  would  have  been  much  longer  had  not 
her  mistress  come  to  her  while  she  was  writing  and 
told  her  not  to  add  anything  more.  The  Sister  must 
have  been  aware  that  the  child's  character  was  so 
developed  and  was  of  such  strength  that  whatever 
she  made  up  her  mind  to  do,  she  would  carry  out 
even  at  the  cost  of  her  health. 

The   impression   which   her   First   Communion 


GEMMA   GALGAN] 


made  on  Gemma  was  deep  and  lasting.  Listen  to 
her  words  fourteen  years  later:  "Father,  where  are 
my  thoughts  taking  me?  To  my  beautiful  First 
Communion  Day.  Yesterday,  feast  of  the  Sacred 
Heart,  I  felt  again  the  joy  of  that  happy  day.    Again 

I  tasted  paradise Truly  the  day  of  my 

First  Communion  was  the  day  on  which  I  found 
my  heart  burning 
with  the  love  of 
Jesus." 

After  this 
event  Gemma 
returned  to  the 
convent  routine 
with  her  usual 
diligence  and 
exactness.  Before 
long  her  winsome 
disposition  made 
her  a  universal 
favorite.  There 
was  a  sweet  at- 
tractiveness about 
this  lovely  child 
that  was  quite 
irresistable. 
Though  the 
youngest  in  the 
school,  she  was 
looked  up  to  by 
her  companions 
who  could  not 
help  but  be 
pressed  by 
dignity  of 
manner. 

This  is 
the  more  remark- 
able, because 
there  was  about 
her  a  certain  re- 
serve, emphasized 
by  a  curtness  in 
speech,  that  to 
some  seemed  to 
indicate  rudeness 
and  even  pride. 
To  one  such  who 
had  upbraided 
her,  she  answered  smilingly  and  with  unaffected 
modesty:  "What  could  pride  have  to  do  in  the 
matter?  I  am  not  thinking  of  it.  I  don't  answer, 
because  I  don't  know  what  to  say.  I  don't  know 
whether  I  should  answer  rightly  or  wrongly,  so  I 
remain  silent.    There  is  an  end  to  it." 

XT  was  quite  generally  recognized,  however, 
that  Gemma  was  of  a  vivacious  temperament 
and  that  she  was  readily  capable  of  being  a 
mad-cap,  had  she  not  at  all  times  held  her  boisterous 
inclinations  in  check.     The  reserve,  so  apparent  in 


1m- 
the 
her 

all 


14 

her,  was  the  effect  of  a  fixed  determination  to 
acquire  self-mastery. 

How  well  she  succeeded,  we  know  from  her 
teachers  who  declared  she  never  answered  back, 
never  pouted  or  grew  ill-tempered.  When  on  occa- 
sion she  happened  to  be  scolded  for  some  childish 
fault,  she  would  listen  silently,  and  would  after- 
wards say:  "Don't  be  angry;  don't  let  it  trouble 
you.  You  will  see  I'll  be  good,  and  won't  do  it 
again." 

The  charge  of  dullness  never  disturbed  her. 
It  is  a  matter  of  fact  that  she  was  more  than 
ordinarily  intelligent.  She  proved  this  rather  con- 
vincingly on  one  occasion  when  a  physician,  who 
was  attending  her,  brusquely  rebuked  what  he 
thought  to  be  excessive  modesty,  and  undertook  to 
lecture  her  in  worldly  wisdom  and  common  sense. 
Her  retort  was  so  apt  and  incisive  that  he  was 
utterly  abashed.  Her  spiritual  director,  in  later 
years,  the  learned  Father  Germanus,  tells  us  that 
he  often  purposely  put  her  mental  ability  to  the 
test,  and  was  always  amazed  at  the  unfailing  quick- 
ness and  correctness  of  her  replies. 

e EMMA'S  love  for  the  Sacred  Passion— all  her 
life  the  predominant  trait  of  her  holiness — 
was  the  vehicle  through  which  her  high 
mental  gifts  became  known.  Often  did  she  beg  her 
teachers  to  tell  her  about  the  sufferings  of  Christ. 
This  coveted  favor  was  granted  her  only  when  she 
stood  at  the  head  of  her  class.  No  effort  was  too 
great  for  her  to  make  in  order  that  she  might  claim 
her  reward.  This  was  the  reason  why  she  always 
carried  off  the  highest  prizes  at  the  graduation 
exercises. 

At  the  end  of  one  school  term  she  was  awarded 
the  gold  medal  in  christian  doctrine.  Only  when 
inspired  by  a  religious  motive  did  she  display  her 
gifts.  Consequently  it  was  very  difficult  to  persuade 
her  to  take  part  in  the  annual  exhibitions  by  sub- 
mitting to  the  view  of  the  public  specimens  of  her 
work  in  Italian  and  French. 

The  first  impression  gained  of  this  young  school 
girl  was  a  conviction  of  her  unusual  piety,  a  con- 
viction which  deepened  on  continued  acquaintance. 
It  was  a  matter  of  common  remark  among  her 
teachers  that  she  evinced  most  seriousness  during 
the  catechism  classes. 

It  was  likewise  observed  by  them  that  this 
exemplary  pupil  practiced  daily  examination  of 
conscience,  meditation,  and  spiritual  reading;  but 
the  amount  of  time  she  devoted  to  these  several 
pious  exercises,  especially  to  meditation,  their 
interested  curiosity  could  never  discover. 

Our  Lord's  Passion  was  the  favorite,  and  almost 
constant,  topic  of  her  thoughts.  Sister  Camilla,  a 
religious  of  tried  virtue,  was  among  the  first  to 
guide  her  in  the  knowledge  of  Christ  Crucified.  For 
a  time  it  fell  to  her  to  give  to  Gemma  her  lessons 
on  the  Passion — the  merited  reward  of  her  diligence. 
On  such  occasions  her  pupil  manifested  the  greatest 


THE  t  SIGN 


sympathy  for  the  sufferings  of  Jesus.  "How  often," 
she  tells  us,  "did  we  not  weep  together  during  these 
informal  lessons." 

As  a  result  of  these  lessons,  Gemma  was 
inspired  to  practice  severe  penance.  She  even  went 
so  far  as  to  fashion  instruments  of  penance  for  her- 
self, but  her  superiors  prudently  forbade  the  use  of 
them.  To  compensate  for  this  privation  she  began 
a  rigid  mortification  of  her  senses,  which  in  the  end, 
became  a  veritable  crucifixion,  and  prepared  her 
for  the  grace  of  being  numbered  amongst  those  who 
have  most  closely  resembled  the  Man  of  Sorrows. 

Upon  the  death  of  Sister  Camilla,  Sister  Julia 
Sestini  succeeded  the  former  as  Gemma's  mistress. 
This  good  woman  instilled  her  own  great  love  of 
prayer  into  the  heart  of  her  saintly  charge.  "It  was 
owing  to  her  instruction."  Gemma  once  said,  "that 
I,  too,  resolved  to  devote  much  time  to  prayer." 

XT  was  at  this  time  that  she  began  her  practice 
of  reciting  daily  the  fifteen  decades  of  the 
rosary,  and  of  rising  several  times  every  night 
to  reflect  on  the  Passion.  Besides  these  voluntary 
penances,  she  was  subjected  to  others  which  are  the 
common  portion  of  all  saintly  souls.  These  trials 
served  only  to  strengthen  her  virtue  and  to  urge  her 
on  to  greater  efforts.  With  the  consent  of  her  con- 
fessor, she  received  Holy  Communion  more  fre- 
quently; first,  thrice  a  week,  and  then,  daily.  She 
sought,  whenever  possible,  to  be  alone  and  at  prayer. 
She  dressed  with  the  utmost  simplicity,  and  seemed 
to  be  wholly  indifferent  to  the  gaieties  which  make 
such  a  strong  appeal  to  those  of  her  age. 

The  pronounced  opposition  of  her  family  to  her 
singularity  in  dress  added  materially  to  her  suffer- 
ings. They  did  not  see  why  she  did  not  dress  like 
her  sisters;  and  why  she  should  not  join  in  their 
ordinary  pastimes.  Her  studied  retirement  was  not 
due  to  excessive  bashfulness,  or  to  the  lack  of  per- 
sonal charm.  Her  photograph  attests  her  excep- 
tional beauty;  and  we  know,  from  the  testimony  of 
persons  still  living,  that  she  would  have  adorned  any 
society. 

Gemma  was  soon  to  be  freed  from  these  painful 
difficulties  by  the  death  of  her  grandfather  and  of 
her  uncle  Maurice.  After  this,  her  aunts  came  to 
live  with  the  Galganis;  and  their  coming  marked  a 
change  in  the  family's  attitude  towards  her.  Hence- 
forth she  was  at  liberty  to  follow  her  own  manner 
of  life.  It  was  not  long,  however,  before  she  was 
burdened  with  another  heavy  cross.  Her  brother 
Gino,  to  whom  she  was  devotedly  attached,  was 
wasting  away  with  consumption.  This  deeply 
affected  the  sensitive  girl.  Nevertheless  she_  bravely 
took  upon  herself  the  whole  burden  of  nursing  him, 
reckoning  the  danger  of  contagion  as  nothing.  Her 
untiring  solicitude  was  comparable  only  to  the  tender 
devotion  of  a  mother.  She  was  inconsolable  when 
the  end  came. 

Sorrow  added  to  a  physical  weakness,  brought 


THE  +  SIGN 


«5 


on  by  long  watchings  in  the  sick  room,  undermined 
her  health,  so  that  she  was  confined  to  her  bed  for 
three  months,  and  on  several  occasions  was  at  the 
point  of  death.  On  her  recovery,  it  was  thought 
necessary  that  she  should  leave  school.  She  was 
now  in  her  sixteenth  year. 

aFTER  leaving  school,  Gemma  devoted  herself 
with  great  earnestness  to  home  affairs.  She 
was  most  exact  in  everything,  and  this  was  a 
source  of  great  edification  to  all.  Her  good  example 
was  often  spoken  of  with  admiration  not  only  during 
her  life  but  for  many  years  after  her  death.  One 
Peter  Maggi,  a  servant,  particularly  enthusiastic  in 
his  admiration  for  the  young  mistress,  said  that 
Gemma  "stood  alone  and  there  was  no  one  like  her." 

She  had  great  love  for  the  poor,  and  when 
she  became  the  head  of  the  house  had  abundant 
opportunities  to  exercise  this  love  in  a  practical 
way.  She  gave  them  everything  she  could  lay  her 
hands  on — money,  provisions,  and  even  the  house 
linens.  Being  forbidden  by  her  confessor  to  do 
this,  she  grieved  much  that  she  was  unable  to  help 
those  needy  ones  whom  she  was  sure  to  meet  when 
leaving  the  house;  on  returning  home  she  often 
wept.    She  resolved  not  to  go  out  any  more. 

Her  daily  routine  was  always  much  the  same. 
She  rose  early  for  morning  prayers  and  then  went 


to  church  for  Mass  and  Communion;  she  visited 
daily  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  and  in  the  evening 
spent  some  time  in  meditation,  and  concluded  her 
devotions  with  the  rosary.  She  arose  several  times 
during  the  night  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to 
recommend  the  needs  of  her  soul  to  Jesus.  We 
know  from  her  own  words  that  at  this  time  she  began 
to  receive  direct  communications  from  heaven.  But 
while  always  engrossed  with  spiritual  things,  she 
never  neglected  her  household  duties. 

It  was  the  will  of  God  to  detach  more  and  more 
this  saintly  girl  from  earthly  things,  and  Gemma 
always  corresponded  with  the  divine  will.  A  gift 
of  a  gold  watch  and  chain  was  the  occasion  on  which 
God  made  a  special  manifestation  of  His  will.  To 
show  her  appreciation  to  the  aunt  who  gave  her  the 
present,  Gemma  wore  the  beautiful  ornaments  as 
she  went  for  a  walk.  On  her  return  her  guardian 
angel  appeared  and  reproved  her:  "The  precious 
ornaments  that  adorn  the  spouse  of  a  Crucified  King 
cannot  be  other  than  the  thorns  and  the  cross."  At 
once  Gemma  discarded  the  watch  and  chain  and 
also  a  valuable  ring  which  she  had  been  accustomed 
to  wear.  She  made  a  determined  resolution  never 
even  to  speak  of  anything  savoring  of  vanity.  This 
apparition  of  the  angel  is  the  first  recorded  in  her 
life.  It  was  the  beginning  of  a  long  series  of 
supernatural  visitations. 

(To  be  continued) 


The   Sign 

Anthony  F.  Klinkner 

What  Mother  Mary  saw 
In  Jesus  infant  eyes, 

So  Wondrous  and  so  fair, — 

Caused  sorrow's  sword 

To  pierce  her  loving  heart, — 

The    shadow   of  the  Cross  was  there  ! 


/^\ROOF  of  one's  having  attended  the  Sunday 
K^  services  is  the  ability  to  repeat  the  substance, 
or  at  least  the  text,  of  the  sermon.  Such 
facility,  however,  is  not  proof  that  one  has  assisted 
at  the  services  with  interest,  understanding  or 
spiritual  profit.  It  will  stimulate  attention  in 
children  if  parents  regularly  inquire  of  them  what 
the  sermon  or  instruction  was  about.     On  a  certain 


occasion  an  old-fashioned  parson  preached  on  the 
text:  "An  angel  came  down  from  heaven  and  drew 
a  live  coal  from  the  altar."  In  the  audience  was  a 
boy  who  himself  became  the  most  sensational 
preacher  of  his  day.  The  service  over,  his  old- 
fashioned  parents  asked  him  to  repeat  the  text. 
Thus  did  he  render  it:  "An  Injun  came  down  from 
New  Haven  and  drew  a  live  colt  from  the  halter!" 


Current   Fact   and   Comment 


WOULD   YOU    PUT  IT  IN   WRITING? 


OFFICE-SEEKERS  are  notoriously  unscrupu- 
lous in  the  matter  of  detraction.  They  find  it 
to  their  purpose  to  make  out  strong  cases 
against  their  competitors.  Assistant  Postmaster, 
Hubert  Work,  has  a  buffer  job  of  listening  to  appli- 
cants for  postmasterships  from  all  over  the  country. 
He  has  an  effective  method.  The  applicant,  having 
concluded  his  appeal  with  a  conscienceless  descrip- 
tion of  his  rivals'  delinquencies,  is  told:     "That  is 


fine.  It  ought  to  be  sufficient  ground  for  action. 
Now,  you  put  in  writing  all  you  have  said  to  me, 
that  I  may  have  the  record  straight."  Invariably 
the  applicant  departs,  vaguely  wondering  how  he 
becomes  the  victim  of  such  ingenuousness. 

How  many  things  we  say  about  the  absent 
neighbor  that  we  dare  not  say  in  his  presence,  and 
that  we  would  not  commit  to  writing  over  our  plain, 
bold  signature! 


"SAVE  THE   SURFACE  AND  YOU   SAVE  ALL' 


^^-/HE  above  is  a  caption  with  which  the 
f)  ubiquitous  signboard  has  made  us  all  familiar. 
With  manufacturers  of  paint  it  has  long  since 
become  a  highly  successful  and  remunerative  com- 
mercial slogan.  This  motto,  however,  is  not  confined 
to  the  paintshop;  it  has  a  far  wider  territory.  It 
expresses  very  aptly  the  principle  on  which  is  built 
up  the  moral  conduct  of  many  people.  Not  infre- 
quently we  meet  persons  willing  to  cast  aside  a  solid, 
substantial  oak  or  mahogany  table  for  a  brightly 
polished  cheap  veneer  counterfeit  of  the  same.  It 
is    the    looks   that   count.      So,   too,    respectability, 


culture,  refinement  become  for  many  the  substitutes 
for  solid  virtue;  they  become  the  shoddy  cloaks  for 
every  manner  of  rottenness  and  sin.  We  Catholics 
must  remember  that  God  demands  something  more 
of  us  than  mere  external  appearances.  In  the  eyes 
of  God  there  is  no  such  thing  as  camouflage.  He 
requires  of  us  holiness.  We  do  not  save  all  when 
we  save  the  surface.  Without  holiness,  which  alone 
makes  us  pleasing  to  God,  all  education,  culture  and 
refinement  are  as  "the  driven  snow  that  covers  the 
dunghill." 


AN   INJUDICIOUS  JUDGMENT 


Y^\ECENTLY,  a  decision  handed  down  by  the 
l^r  Chief  Justice  of  Pennsylvania  stops  state 
■*~^J  aid  to  all  charities  conducted  under  religious 
auspices.  Sympathy  is  widely  extended  to  the 
institutions  which  are  to  suffer  hardships  through 
this  withdrawal  of  financial  help.  At  the  same 
time  the  incident  draws  attention  to  the  efficiency 
of  these  institutions  and  to  the  fact  that  they 
lessen  substantially  the  burden  of  taxation.  The 
public  is  reminded  that  in  their  midst  are  homes, 
refuges,  hospitals,  affording  shelter,  comfort,  expert 
aid,    unselfish    service :     that    it    would    be    con- 


stantly harrowed  by  the  sight  of  acute  distress  if 
these  refuges  were  not  so  prompt  to  conceal  distress 
from  public  view. 

It  is  well  known  that  state  institutions  are 
usually  run  at  extravagant  waste  of  public  funds 
without  proportionate  results.  It  is  also  well  known 
that  in  the  sphere  of  charitable  endeavor  the  best 
results  are  attained  by  those  who  give  their  lives 
and  efforts  to  the  service  of  the  Master.  Only  the 
other  day  the  attention  of  the  public  was  drawn  to 
waste,  the  inefficiency,  the  vice  rampant  in  a  Federal 
home  for  disabled  soldiers  in  Tennessee. 


THE  AMERICAN— CANADIAN   PEACE  ARCH 


B  PEACE  ARCH  has  been  completed  over  the 
Canadian  border,  linking  the  State  of  Wash- 
ington with  the  Province  of  British  Columbia. 
It  will  be  dedicated  this  month.  It  commemorates 
over  a  century  of  peace  between  two  nations  whose 
competitive  interests  often  brought  about  strained 
relations  just  as  grave  in  their  import  as  the  alleged 
causes  for  precipitating  the  World  War.  This  Arch 
calls  to  mind  that  other  pledge  of  lasting  peace  and 
friendship  which  surmounts  the  loftiest  pinnacle  of 
the  mountainous  border  between  Argentina  and 
Chile.  It  is  a  colossal  statue  of  our  Lord,  called 
"The  Christ  of  the  Andes." 


To  this  the  Peace  Arch  ranks  second  in  impres- 
siveness.  Impressive,  indeed,  is  the  benign  figure 
of  Christ  set  up  by  two  Catholic  nations.  It  is  a 
witness  to  their  conviction  that  a  lasting  peace 
must  be  founded  on  something  better  than  an  entente 
or  a  commercial  treaty.  The  Peace  Arch  gains  its 
impressiveness  not  only  because  it  commemorates 
a  peace,  but  a  peace  maintained  through  conciliatory 
methods.  Modern  victors  are  learning  that  you 
cannot  lick  an  opponent  into  helplessness  and  then 
expect  him  to  serve  you  in  reparation — are  learning 
in  how  many  subtle  ways  self-interested  peace  terms 
are  hurting  the  dictator  of  them. 


THE  t  SIGN 


THE   MATERNITY   BILL  AND  THE  CATHOLIC  MOTHER 


BS  an  inducement  to  married  women  to  bear 
children  there  has  been  introduced  into  Con- 
gress a  bill  known  as  the  Maternity  Bill 
which,  if  passed,  will  afford  government  aid  to 
mothers  in  straightened  circumstances  in  providing 
for  their  children.  If  this  Bill  will  help  some 
married  women  to  live  up  to  the  dictates  of  their 
consciences,  it  might  possibly  accomplish  something 
for  decency  and  the  State.  Catholic  women  will 
not  need  any  such  inducement. 

The  old-fashioned  Catholic  mothers  are  passing 
but  they  are  not  all  gone.  We  remember  the  calico 
wrapper  and  the  starched  white  apron  which  was 
donned  when  baby  was  taken  for  a  walk  with  the 
other  three  or  four  little  tots,  one  scarcely  bigger 
than  the  other.  In  those  days  Faith  shone  as  with 
a  burning  light.  Every  morning  and  evening  its 
warm  rays  were  trained  upon  the  innocent  hearts 
of  the  children  as  they  were  told  of  Jesus  and  Mary. 
Then,  the  mother  prayed  (and  the  father,  too)  that 


the  day  might  come,  when  a  son  would  stand  at  the 
altar  of  God. 

The  calico  dress  and  the  starched  apron  are 
gone :  but  we  still  have  Catholic  mothers,  clothed 
in  smarter  frocks,  whose  lives  are  an  inspiration. 
They  are  blessed  before  God,  a  credit  to  the  Church 
and  the  glory  of  their  sex.  They  are  also  a  reproach 
and  a  judgment  to  the  married  women  who  forfeit 
the  privilege  and  happiness  of  motherhood  for  the 
sake  of  sinful  self-indulgence.  Then,  too,  these 
mothers  give  their  quota  to  God  even  at  the  cost  of 
much  pain  and  sacrifice.  Gladly,  yea  cheerfully,  is 
the  oldest  boy  given  to  minister  at  the  altar;  and 
the  capable  daughter,  often  the  main  support  of  the 
home,  is  bidden  Godspeed  when  she  makes  known 
her  desire  to  enter  the  convent. 

God  bless  our  Catholic  mothers.  May  their 
number  increase  till  the  good  odor  of  Jesus  Christ 
is  diffused  throughout  the  world! 


IRELAND— "THE  TEST   OF  AMERICANISM" 


XN    a    splendid   speech   before   the    Senate — a 
speech   as   convincing  as   it  was   eloquent — 
Senator    LaFollette    characterized   the    Irish 
Cause  as  "the  Test  of  Americanism." 

So  much  untruth  has  ben  printed  about  the 
Irish  fight  for  independence;  so  many  facts  have 
been  deliberately  distorted;  so  much  'news'  has  been 
adroitly  colored,  that  many  Americans,  having  drunk 
from  the  poisoned  wells,  are  inoculated  with  a 
deadly  anti-Irish  virus. 

Among  these  are  some  Catholics  with  Irish 
blood  in  their  veins.  They  are  so  squeemish  about 
their  'unadultered  patriotism'  and  so  fearful  of  the 
incriminating  'hyphen',  that  they  lack  the  courage 
to  say  before  their  fellow-men  what  in  their  hearts 
they  know  to  be  the  truth. 

Their  100%  Americanism  resembles  strongly 
that  of  the  dollar-a-year  slacker  and  the  loud- 
mouthed war  profiteer. 

They  are  righteously  incensed  at  the  supposed 
Polish  pogroms  against  the  Jews,  and  they  enthuse 
over  the  national  aspirations  of  Jugo-Slavia,  and 
they  bewail  the  plight  of  bleeding  Armenia;  but  they 
shudder  at  what  they  deem  the  vulgar  insistence  of 
the  Irish  to  end  their  seven-century  tragedy! 

George  Washington  and  the  Continental  Con- 
gress were  high-minded  patriots  when  they  balked 


at  the  stolid  stupidity  of  George  III.  But  DeValera 
and  the  Dail  Eireann  are  deluded  extremists — dupes 
of  an  impetuous  fanaticism — when  they  scorn  the 
manikin  pleadings  of  George  V! 

General  Prescott  was  an  intrepid  soldier  when 
he  thrice  repulsed  the  Red  Jackets  at  Bunker  Hill. 
But  General  Collins  is  a  common  assasin  when  he 
blows  up  a  defenseless  British  tank! 

Thomas  Jefferson  was  a  statesman  with  vision 
when  he  wrote  the  Declaration  of  Independence. 
But  Arthur  Griffiths  is  only  a  visionary  when  he  lays 
down  the  platform  of  Sinn  Fein ! 

The  Boston  Tea  Party  is  fit  for  song  and  story. 
But  the  armed  defense  of  invaded  homes  is  worthy 
of  a  world's  execration! 

The  burning  of  Washington  was  an  act  of 
unjustifiable  frightfulness.  But  the  burning  of  Cork 
was  a  merited  reprisal  to  uphold  the  dignity  of  the 
Crown ! 

The  imported  Hessians  were  brutal  hirelings. 
But  the  Black  and  Tans  are  the  duly  authorized 
defenders  of  law  and  order! 

To  the  sincere  American  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  is  the  exponent  of  national  and  indi- 
vidual right.  The  application  of  this  norm  to  Ire- 
land is  the  test  of  true  Americanism. 


RELIGION  THE  PROP  OF  MORALITY 


ffl 


[ORALITY  depends  on  religion;  religion 
depends  on  religious  education,  religious 
schools  and  teachers,  religious  books  and 
influence.  If  the  child  does  not  receive  religious 
training,  the  man  will  not  have  religion.    The  child 


is  father  to  the  man.  Horace  Mann,  the  father  of 
the  public  school  system,  once  declared:  "If  the 
intellect,  however  gifted,  be  not  goverened  by  a 
sense  of  justice,  a  love  of  mankind,  and  a  devotion 
to  duty,  its  possessor  is  only  a  more  splendid,  as  he 


i8 


THE  1"  SIGN 


is  a  more  dangerous,  barbarian.  For  we  are  fully 
persuaded  that  the  salt  of  religious  truth  can  alone 
preserve  education  from  abuse."  Ruskin  said:  "Ed- 
ucation does  not  mean  teaching  people  to  know  what 
they  do  not  know;  it  means  teaching  them  to  behave 
as  they  do  not  behave."  Wellington  declared: 
"Educate  men  without  religion,  and  you  make  them 
but  clever  devils." 

By  banishing  God  and  religion  from  their 
schools,  France,  Italy  and  Russia  are  raising  a 
horde  of  immoral  and  criminal  infidels,  socialists, 
anarchists  and  bolsheviks,  who  have  become  the 
propagators  of  suicidal  revolution,  and  the  menace 
of  all  social  order.  By  banishing  God  and  religion 
from  our  own  schools,  we  too  are  raising  another 
horde  of  godless  citizens  who  threaten  the  very 
foundations  of  our  American  Republic.  Take  away 
religion,  and  immediately  you  destroy  the  very  basis 
of  morality,  of  stability,  of  social  order  in  our 
national  life. 

aNFORTUNATELY,  there  are  some  Catholic 
parents  who  do  not  seem  to  know  that  the 
parochial  school  stands  as  a  protest  against 
the  irreligious  system  that  would  blot  God  out  of  the 


life  of  the  child.  They  do  not  appreciate  what  the 
Catholic  school  gives  the  child.  They  are  so  dead 
to  its  worth  and  efficiency  that  they  blatantly  bray 
their  ignorance  by  comparing  it  unfavorably  with 
the  public  school;  whereas,  even  from  a  merely 
secular  view-point,  it  is  the  equal  of  the  public 
school  both  as  to  methods  and  results.  In  every 
parish  are  to  be  found  'climbers'  who  think  that 
because  they  have  a  few  more  dollars  than  their 
neighbors,  their  children  are  of  a  higher  intellectual 
type.  These  children  must  not  go  to  the  parish 
schools — the  Sisters  are  not  capable  of  teaching 
them!  After  graduation  from  the  grammar  school, 
the  girls  are  packed  off  to  some  fashionable  institute 
to  have  their  silly  little  heads  filled  with  frivolous 
fads  and  fancies:  the  boys  are  dispatched  to  some 
exclusive  secular  college,  because,  forsooth!,  the 
Christian  Brothers  or  the  Jesuits  cannot  measure  up 
to  the  intellectual  requirements  of  these  youthful 
prodigies. 

Our  Catholic  parents  have  just  reason  to  be 
proud  of  the  parochial  schools.  They  have  a  strict 
obligation  to  support  them.  Their  children  should 
be  found  in  them.    That  is  where  they  belong. 


A    TRAGIC    WITNESS    TO    BIGOTRY 


HATELY,  our  Catholic  people  were  shocked  at 
the  report  of  the  cold-blooded  murder  of  the 
Very  Rev.  James  E.  Coyle,  pastor  of  St. 
Paul's  Catholic  Church,  Birmingham,  Ala.  The 
murderer  is  the  Rev.  Edwin  R.  Stephenson. 

Shortly  before  the  tragic  event  Father  Coyle 
had  married  Miss  Ruth  Stephenson,  the  murderer's 
daughter,  to  Mr.  Pedro  Gussmann.  Miss  Stephenson 
is  a  recent  convert  to  the  Church.  Her  testimony 
shows  the  motive  of  the  murder. 

"When  I  heard  of  the  tragedy,"  she  said,  "I  just 
couldn't  believe  that  such  a  thing  had  happened. 
Poor  dear  Father  Coyle  was  such  a  wonderful  and 
noble  man. 

"I  was  baptized  in  the  Catholic  Faith  by 
Father  Kelly  at  Our  Lady  of  Sorrows  on  April  10. 
When  I  was  ready  to  make  my  First  Communion  on 
May  15,  my  father  locked  me  in  a  room  and  mis- 
treated me  terribly.  I  was  confined  there  from 
Friday  until  Monday,  when  I  was  permitted  to  leave 
for  work.  I  never  will  forget  these  nights,  and  I 
still  have  nightmares  about  the  experiences  I  had. 

"If  I  had  stayed  at  home  they  were  going  to 
force  me  to  marry  another  man  this  fall.  This  man 
is  a  Mason  and  a  divorced  man.  I  could  not  marry 
him  under  the  tenets  of  my  religion. 

"I  met  Pedro  and  we  went  to  Bessemer  and 
got  the  license.  We  hunted  for  the  priest  at  Bes- 
semer but  were  unable  to  find  him.  We  then  re- 
turned to  Birmingham.  Father  Coyle  was  the  only 
one  who  could  marry  us. 

"I  do  not  want  to  see  my  father.     He  has  done 


a  terrible  thing  for  which  there  is  no  excuse." 

We  understand  that  Mr.  Stephenson  will  be 
defended  by  four  of  the  ablest  lawyers  in  the  State. 
The  only  defence  that  they  can  possibly  offer  in  this 
outrageous  case  is  that  the  mind  of  the  murderer 
was  unhinged  by  his  hatred  of  the  Catholic  Church. 
We  have  no  difficulty  in  believing  that  a  weak- 
minded  person  preyed  upon  by  the  damnable  bigotry 
so  rampant  in  some  of  our  Southern  States  could 
easily  become  the  victim  of  religious  insanity. 

What  a  pity  that  the  life  of  one  of  God's  anoint- 
ed priests  should  have  been  sacrificed  in  the  new- 
born wave  of  insensate  anti-Catholic  bigotry  that  is 
sweeping  the  South ! 

This  bigotry  is  largely  due  to  the  woful  ignor- 
ance of  the  people  of  the  South  concerning  Catholic 
belief  and  practice.  For  the  most  part,  their  know- 
ledge of  the  Church  is  derived  from  irresponsible, 
itinerant  preachers — such  as  the  Rev.  Stephenson  in 
Alabama,  or  from  wiley  politicians — such  as  the 
foul-mouthed  Tom  Watson  in  Georgia,  or  from  lying 
fanatics — such  as  the  unspeakable  Catts  in  Florida. 

One  of  the  most  potent  ways  of  stilling  the 
raging  storm  of  bigotry  is  the  spreading  of  Catholic 
literature.  Bishop  Kiely's  Laymen's  League  is 
doing  great  good  in  Georgia  through  its  preach-by- 
mail  campaign.  The  Knights  of  Columbus  Lecture 
Bureau  is  meeting  with  unexpected  success  in  other 
Southern  States.  The  International  Truth  Society 
of  Brooklyn  will  gladly  send  directions  to  any  of 
our  readers  for  re-mailing  Catholic  literature  to 
those  places  where  it  is  most  needed. 


In   the   Ruins   Above   Chinon 


Edith  Staniforth 


gRE    you    ready,    Anne?"      asked    Marjory 
Thornton,  coming  into  her  cousin's  room. 
"The  car  is  at  the  door." 
"Quite,"  answered  Anne  Trelawney. 

She  picked  up  a  warm  cloak,  for  though  the 
sun  was  hot  it  was  only  May  and  the  evenings  were 
apt  to  be  chilly,  and  throwing  it  over  her  arm  she 
followed  her  cousin  downstairs.  Two  young  men 
advanced  to  meet  them  as  they  came  out  of  the 
hotel.  Devlin,  the  owner  of  the  car,  was  a  dark, 
handsome  Celt  with  blue  eyes  and  black  hair  which 
yet  had  red  tints  in  it.  His  friend,  Charlie  Mex- 
borough,  was  a  typical  Englishman,  tall  and  fair, 
with  a  lazy  manner  which  was  rather  misleading. 
They  were  staying  at  Tours  at  the  same  hotel  as 
the  two  pretty  English  girls,  who  excited  their 
curiosity  and  admiration,  but  who,  they  felt,  were 
not  the  kind  with  whom  one  could  scrape  acquain- 
tance. Then  one  evening  they  met  at  a  party  given 
by  a  charming  American  woman  at  her  flat  in  the 
Boulvart  Beranger,  the  most  fashionable  part  of  the 
town,  and  were  formally  introduced.  There  was  still 
a  considerable  American  element  in  Tours,  engaged 
in  winding  up  matters  after  the  war.  A  large 
American  contingent  had  been  quartered  in 
Touraine,  where  their  command  of  money  excited 
the  envy  of  the  population  but  brought  prosperity 
to  the  country-side. 

Acquaintance  soon  ripens  into  friendship  under 
such  conditions,  and  Devlin  placed  his  car  at  the 
disposal  of  the  girls  who  were  visiting  the  castles 
of  Touraine.  They  could  not  well  refuse  him  a  seat 
in  his  own  car,  and  together  with  him  and  his  friend 
they  saw  all  the  most  interesting  spots  in  a  neigh- 
bourhood brimful  of  history  and  romance. 

"Where  are  we  going  today,  Mr.  Devlin?" 
Marjory  asked. 

It  was  he  who  planned  the  expeditions  and 
looked  out  the  roads. 

"To  Chinon,"  he  replied,  "the  oldest  of  all  the 
castles,  a  ruin  but  a  magnificent  one.  We  will  take 
Azay-le-Rideau  on  the  way,  it  is  the  gem  of  the 
Renaissance  and  you  must  not  miss  it.  Will  that 
suit?" 

"Excellent.  Could  not  be  better,"  Marjory 
answered. 

Devlin  was  a  multi-millionaire  who  had  made 
his  money  by  a  mixture  of  luck  and  hard  work. 
He  seized  his  opportunity  when  the  chance  came  in 
his  way  and  it  led  on  to  fortune.  He  was  a  curious 
compound  of  contradictory  elements;  a  shrewd 
business  man,  he  was  yet  extraordinarily  well  read, 
and  there  was  a  dreamy  strain  in  his  nature  which 
brought  him  in  touch  with  Anne.  They  were  both 
Celts,  she  from  Cornwall  and  he  from  Ireland,  and 
had  the  imaginative  faculty  strongly  developed,  and 
they  were  both  Catholics  which  was  an  additional 


link  between  them.  He  turned  to  her  now  and  his 
voice  took  a  softer  key.  It  was  an  Irish  voice,  full 
of  modulations. 

"Miss  Trelawney,"  he  said,  "will  you  sit  by  me 
in  front?" 

He  drove  his  own  car  and  was  an  expert  and 
skillful  driver. 

Anne  coloured  and  looked  at  her  cousin.  She 
felt  shy  of  accepting  the  post  of  honor,  for  Marjory 
was  the  leader  and  she  was  her  guest.  Anne  was 
a  convert  of  only  a  month's  standing.  Her  father, 
a  Protestant  clergyman  in  Cornwall,  had  turned 
her  out  of  the  house  at  the  instigation  of  her  step- 
mother, and  her  mother's  brother,  a  rich  ironmaster 
in  the  north,  justly  indignant,  had  taken  her  in. 

"But  now  mind,  Anne,"  he  warned  her,  "no 
proselytising.  I  don't  want  Marjory  to  follow  your 
example." 

"You  needn't  trouble,  uncle  Richard,"  replied 
Anne.  "If  God  wants  to  convert  Marjory  He  can  do 
so  without  my  help.  I  suppose  if  she  wanted  to 
become   a   Catholic  you  would  not  prevent  her?"' 

"No,  I  shouldn't,  I  think  people  have  a  right  to 
choose  for  themselves  in  such  matters,  but  I  don't 
want  her  influenced." 

Anne  promised  and  the  two  girls  set  out  for 
France  together,  Anne's  first  trip  abroad  and 
Marjory's  first  since  the  war.  They  had  always  been 
friends  and  Marjory  had  hotly  espoused  her  cousin's 
cause.    She  laughed  now  and  shook  her  head. 

"I  would  rather  sit  behind,  it  is  not  so  windy." 

EROM  the  first  Devlin  had  singled  out  Anne 
for  his  attentions.  At  first  sight  many  people 
were  disposed  to  give  the  palm  for  beauty 
to  Marjory,  with  her  brilliant  colouring  and  smart 
appearance,  which  was  natural  to  her  and  did  not 
depend  on  her  clothes,  but  there  was  a  haunting 
charm  in  Anne's  deep  gray  eyes  which  lingered  in 
the  memory  when  her  cousin's  more  showy  charms 
were  forgotten.  Marjory  watched  the  growing 
intimacy  between  Anne  and  Devlin  with  glee  and 
without  a  spark  of  envy:  there  were  plenty  of  other 
chances  for  the  rich  man's  daughter.  What  a  slap 
in  the  face  it  would  be  to  Anne's  stepmother  if 
through  her  machinations  and  persecution  the  girl 
made  a  brilliant  marriage! 

Anne  had  been  that  morning  to  the  house  of  the 
Holy  Man,  whose  life  she  had  just  been  reading. 
He  appealed  to  her  strongly,  a  saint  of  her  own 
time  who  under  the  appearance  of  an  ordinary  good 
citizen  had  veiled  heights  of  heroic  sanctity.  She 
had  knelt  in  the  chapel,  which  had  formerly  been 
his  sitting-room,  and  slipt  a  letter  in  the  box  in  his 
bedroom  upstairs,  begging  him  to  reconcile  her  with 
the  father  she  so  dearly  loved  in  spite  of  all  his 
unkindness.      She    knew    that    he    loved    her    still 


THE  t  SIGN 


though  evil  councils  had  set  him  against  her  and 
that  he  too,  suffered  from  their  estrangement.  The 
shadow  of  her  prayer  still  lingered  in  her  eyes 
when  she  took  her  seat  in  the  car. 

They  stopped  at  Azay-le-Rideau,  embosomed 
in  woods  and  gardens  and  almost  encircled  by  the 
river  which  formed  the  moat,  but  with  few  historic 
associations  since,  unlike  the  other  castles,  it  was 
not  a  king's  palace  but  the  home  of  a  private 
individual. 

"Much  nicer,"  Marjory  opined.  "I  wouldn't 
mind  staying  here.  I  am  sure  the  other  places  are 
full  of  ghosts.  Fancy  Catherine  de  Medici  straying 
into  your  room  in  the  middle  of  the  night!" 

Then  they  made  a  detour  by  Balzac's  house 
where  he  wrote  the  "Lys  de  la  Vallee,"  and  onto  the 
Forest  of  Chinon  where  they  halted  and  lunched 
under  the  spreading  trees  in  one  of  the  glades. 
Devlin  had  provided  a  basket  of  good  things  from 
Potin,  the  chief  confectioner  in  the  town,  and  a 
couple  of  bottles  of  Vouvray,  the  sparkling  wine  of 
the  country,  like  champagne  but  not  so  heady. 

"This  is  delightful,"  exclaimed  Marjory.  "Will 
somebody  tell  us  a  story?" 

For  nobody  felt  inclined  to  move,  it  was  so 
pleasant  in  the  forest,  green  and  cool  and  peaceful. 
Devlin  had  stretched  himself  on  the  grass  at  Anne's 
feet  and  now  and  then  his  ardent  gaze  encountered 
hers  and  caused  her  to  colour  a  little  and  turn  aside. 
Yet  she  could  not  find  fault  with  his  homage,  it 
was  perfectly  respectful. 

"Tell  them  about  your  experience  with  the 
American  hotel-keeper,  Charlie,"  he  said  to  his 
friend.     "It  is  worth  hearing." 

yy\EXBOROUGH  complied.  Though  he  was 
\\M  poor  and  Devlin  was  rich  there  was  perfect 
'  ^  equality  between  them,  no  subservience  on 
the  one  side  or  patronage  on  the  other. 

"I  had  gone  out  to  Nebraska  to  look  for  a  job. 
I  had  always  been  accustomed  to  plenty  of  money 
and  when  the  crash  came  it  was  difficult  to  realize 
that  there  was  no  more  forthcoming.  I  stayed 
at  the  best  hotel  as  I  had  always  done  and  waited 
for  something  to  turn  up.  It  was  all  right  as  long 
as  the  money  lasted,  but  when  it  came  to  an  end  I 
still  stayed  on  and  the  hotel-keeper  got  impatient. 
At  last  he  told  me  point-blank  that  I  must  either 
pay  up  or  go. 

'But  where  am  I  to  go  to?        I  asked. 

T  don't  know.    You  can't  stay  here.' 

'What  am  I  to  do  ?' 

'Do?     Work  like  other  people,  I  guess.' 

'But  I  can't  hear  of  a  job.' 

'Nonsense.  You  haven't  tried.  You've  just 
waited  for  the  plum  to  drop  into  your  mouth.' 

Then — for  he  was  quite  a  good  fellow,  only  he 
wanted  his  money,  for  which  I  could  not  blame  him 
— he  began  to  cross-examine  me  on  my  capabilities. 
My  answers  were  so  unsatisfactory  that  he  got  dis- 
couraged. 


Say,  son,  there  must  be  something  you  can 
do.  Isn't  there  some  one  thing  you  can  do  better 
than  other  people?' 

I  thought  and  thought. 

T  am  very  strong,'  I  said  at  last.  T  carried 
a  donkey  round  the  quadrangle  at  college  for  a  bet.' 

'  No!'  he  exclaimed,  quite  struck.  'You  can't 
do  that.' 

'Yes,  I  can.' 

'There's  a  donkey  in  the  backyard.  Come  out 
and  try.' 

I  went :  I  carried  the  donkey.  Then  he  put  me 
through  two  or  three  more  trials  of  strength.  At 
the  end  he  slapped  me  on  the  back. 

'Why,  boy,'  he  cried,  'our  fortune's  made. 
Don't  you  worry,  leave  it  all  to  me.  I'll  see  to 
everything.  We'll  get  up  a  show  and  you  shall  be 
the  Strong  Man.  There  are  dollars  in  it,  I  can  tell 
you.' 

So  we  did.  I  had  no  trouble,  he  did  everything. 
He  disposed  of  his  hotel  and  we  travelled  from 
place  to  place,  dividing  the  profits.  He  played  quite 
fair,  I  lived  on  the  fat  of  the  land  and  was  beginning 
to  put  money  by,  a  thing  I  had  never  done  in  my 
life  before,  when  I  got  a  wire  from  Jim  telling  me 
he  had  made  his  pile  and  asking  me  to  come  and  join 
him.  So  I  threw  up  my  job  and  came :  the  tempta- 
tion to  get  back  to  the  old  country  was  too  strong 
to  resist.  My  man  nearly  wept  when  I  said  goodbye 
to  him. 

T  shall  have  to  go  back  to  hotel-keeping,  I 
guess,'  he  said.  'But  I  can't  complain,  I've  done 
well  by  you.  Only  if  you  get  sick  of  Europe 
remember  there's  a  place  for  you  over  here.' 


® 


;EXBOROUGH  had  told  his  story  with  a 
modest  simplicity  that  yet  left  a  great  deal 
to  the  imagination. 

"Are  you  really  as  strong  as  that,  Mr.  Mex- 
borough?"     asked  Marjory. 

For  there  was  nothing  in  Mexborough's  appear- 
ance to  denote  unusual  physical  strength.  He 
might  have  muscles  of  iron  and  nerves  of  steel, 
but  as  far  as  looks  went  a  casual  observer  would 
have  given  the  preference  to  Devlin,  who  was  taller 
and  much  more  powerfully  built. 

"Sure.     I'll  show  you  the  first  chance  we  get." 

He  little  guessed  how  soon  that  chance  was  to 
come.     Devlin  looked  at  his  watch. 

"We  must  get  on.  It  takes  some  time  to  see 
Chinon  and  we  have  got  to  climb  the  hill." 

They  got  back  into  the  car  and  sped  along  the 
valley. 

"I  am  sure  Mr.  Mexborough  felt  his  position 
keenly,"  said  Anne  to  her  companion,  "although 
he  spoke  of  it  so  lightly." 

"He  did  that,"  answered  Devlin  emphatically. 
"He  was  rolling  in  riches  when  I  knew  him  first, 
and  I  a  poor  lad  over  from  Ireland  with  neither 
money  nor  friends.  He  put  my  foot  on  the  first 
rung  of  the  ladder  which  led  to  success  and  when 


THE  +  SIGN 


his  father  failed  I  made  up  my  mind  that  if  luck 
came  my  way  he  should  share  it." 

The  speaker's  face  glowed  with  generous 
enthusiasm  and  Anne  felt  her  heart  go  out  to  him. 
Not  all  successful  men  have  such  a  good  memory 
for  past  kindness. 

"It  is  the  wheel  of  fortune,"  Devlin  continued. 
"It  goes  round  and  round,  first  one  man's  turn,  then 
another's;  and  I  suppose  there  is  justice  in  it.  But 
Charlie  is  not  the  money-making  kind,  though  he 
would  make  a  good  use  of  it  if  he  had  it — none 
better.  I  have  put  him  on  to  two  or  three  things 
which  will  bring  him  a  decent  income  and  make 
him  independent.  Every  creditor  was  satisfied  when 
his  father  died,  he  insisted  on  that,  and  gave  up 
the  small  fortune  he  in- 
herited from  his  mother. 
He  only  reserved  enough 
to  take  him  out  to  the 
States  and  keep  him 
there  till  he  found  a  job. 
A  queer  one  it  was  too, 
but  an  honest  one  at  any 
rate,  which  is  more  than 
you  can  say  for  a  good 
many  deals  in  business." 

They  entered  the 
little  town  nestling  under 
the  shadow  of  its  mighty 
neighbour  which  in 
former  times  had  been 
by  turns  its  terror  and 
its  protection,  and  leav- 
ing the  car  at  the  hotel 
they  threaded  their  way 
through  the  narrow 
streets  with  their  quaint 
old-world  charm  till  they 
reached  the  foot  of  the 
hill  on  which  the  castle 
was  built.  It  stretched 
along  the  crest  with  a 
magnificent  view  of  the 
valley  and  the  river 
winding  like  a  blue  rib-     "  "   ~ 

bon  through  the  pastures. 

It  was  a  steep  climb  and  the  sun  was  hot,  and  they 
were  glad  to  pause  halfway  and  admire  the  scene. 

Then  they  pushed  on  to  the  top  and  passed 
through  the  archway.  It  was  a  wonderful  ruin  of 
vast  extent  and  no  attempt  had  been  made  to  restore 
it,  but  the  hand  of  time  had  touched  it  lovingly 
and  flowers  grew  out  of  the  crevices,  softening 
the  rough  edges  of  the  stone.  Here  Richard  the 
Lionhearted  breathed  his  last,  hit  by  a  chance 
arrow  at  the  siege  of  Chaluz  and  brought  hither 
to  die.  Here  Joan  of  Arc  came  to  plead  with  the 
king  and  picked  him  out  amongst  his  courtiers  in 
the  disguise  of  a  simple  gentleman.  They  wandered 
through  the  rooms,  most  of  them  unroofed  and  open 
to  the  air,  and  came  at  last  to  a  little  stone  causeway 


To  The   Sacred   Heart 

James  W.  Gibbons 

Dear  Sacred  Heart  I  come  to  Tkee, 

And  Lo!  I  dare  to  pray, 
A  little  place  be  held  for  me 

That  I  may  know  some  day 
The  glory  of  eternal  lo^e, 

A  union  ne'er  to  part, 
A  home  with  Thee  in  realms  abo-Oe, 

0  Losing  Sacred  Heart! 

Dear  Sacred  Heart  so  kind  and  true, 

Be  merciful  to  me; 
And  grant  that  when  this  life  is  through 

1  dwell  in  peace  with  Thee. 
For  me  the  Precious  Blood  was  shed, 

Thy  side  was  torn  apart, 

That  I  may  live  though  I  be  dead, 

O  tender  Sacred  Heart! 


spanning   the   precipice   and   connecting   two   parts 
of  the  building. 

"Will    you   cross   it,    Miss  Thornton?"      asked 
Devlin,  but  Marjory  drew  back  shuddering. 

"I  couldn't.    My  head  would  go  round.     I  shall 
fall." 

"We  will  wait  for  them  here,"  said  Mex- 
borough  re-assuringly.  Children  and  timid  people 
always  turned  to  him  with  confidence.  Anne,  more 
daring,  followed  Devlin's  lead:  she  had  climbed  the 
cliffs  at  home  by  the  Cornish  sea  and  had  a  sure 
foot  and  a  steady  head.  Together  they  explored 
the  place,  descended  to  the  dungeons  and  mounted 
to  giddy  heights  with  a  coolness  which  would  have 
done  credit  to  an  Alpine  climber.  Devlin's  hand 
was  ready  to  assist  her 
if  she  needed  it,  but  she 
very  seldom  availed  her- 
self of  help.  And  all 
the  time  words  were 
trembling  on  his  lips 
which  it  only  needed  the 
slightest  encouragement 
on  her  part  to  utter,  but 
something  in  her  manner 
held  him  back.  Anne 
did  not  wish  him  to 
speak  just  yet  and  break 
the  delightful  conscious- 
ness they  shared  between 
them.  She  was  not  sure 
of  herself,  she  had 
known  him  so  short  a 
time,  and  her  soul  was 
still  sorely  shaken  by  the 
consequences  involved 
in  her  conversion,  the 
loss  of  her  home  and 
her  father's  love.  She 
needed  time  to  recover, 
to  re-adjust  her  life  to  its 
new  conditions.  This 
new  hope  which  was 
dawning  upon  her  was 
still  a  stranger,  it  was 
too  soon  to  admit  it  into 
her  heart.  Once  she  stumbled  and  he  caught  her  in 
his  arms,  but  she  disengaged  herself  quickly  and 
he  was  baffled  but  not  discouraged.  After  all,  he 
told  himself,  there  was  the  long  drive  home  before 
him.  She  should  not  elude  him,  he  would  speak 
before  the  day  was  done. 

gT  last  they  returned  to  the  others  and  Anne 
sat    down    to    rest    beside    her    cousin    while 
Devlin  and  Mexborough  went  off  to  inspect 
other  parts  of  the  ruins. 

"What    a    heavenly    day!"      exclaimed    Anne. 
"And  what  a  glorious  view!" 

She  got  up  in  order  to  see  better.    They  were 
on  a  little  platform  protected  by  a  low  wall  from 


THE  f  SIGN 


the  sheer  edge  of  the  abyss,  and  Anne  went  and 
leant  against  it. 

"Anne,"  cried  Marjory,  "come  away  from  that 
wall.  I  am  sure  it  is  not  safe.  There  are  cracks 
in  it  already." 

As  she  spoke  Anne  to  her  horror  felt  the  wall 
giving  way  and  a  great  mass  of  masonry  detached 
itself  from  the  rest  and  fell  crashing  into  the  abyss. 
She  could  not  save  herself,  she  had  not  time  to  step 
back,  but  dropped — to  be  caught  by  a  stone  jutting 
out  like  a  buttress  from  the  building.  Her  dresb 
was  a  strong  one  and  held,  and  she  clung  with  both 
hands  to  the  stone,  not  daring  to  look  down  for  she 
knew  that  her  head  would  not  stand  it.  All  sorts 
of  thoughts  flashed  through  her  mind  as  she  hung 
in  mid-air:  of  her  father  in  the  Cornish  parsonage 
and  of  what  his  feelings  would  be  when  he  heard 
of  the  death  of  his  only  child,  unreconciled  and 
unforgiven;  of  Devlin — she  wished  now  she  had  let 
him  speak — of  Marjory,  poor  soul!  and  the  shock 
it  would  be  to  her.  Thank  God  she  was  a  Catholic 
at  least  and  had  no  fear  of  the  next  world!  It  was 
only  the  violent  death  that  she  shrank  from.  She 
wondered  how  long  her  grasp  would  hold  and 
whether  she  would  feel  the  dull  thud  on  the  stones 
below.  Perhaps  she  would  be  only  maimed,  not 
killed.  She  shuddered  at  the  thought.  Better,  far 
better  to  be  killed  outright  than  to  creep  through 
life  on  a  broken  wing.  Still  God  knew  best  and  she 
resigned  herself  to  death  or  life  as  it  pleased  Him. 

Marjory  was  screaming  loudly  for  help  and 
the  two  men  came  rushing  back.  Anne  heard  a 
shout  from  above. 

"Hold  on,  Miss  Trelawney.  Don't  be 
frightened.    I'll  have  you  up  in  no  time." 

It  was  Mexborough's  voice,  cheering  and  com- 
forting, and  the  hope  of  rescue  brought  new  strength 
to  her  grasp.  He  laid  himself  on  the  ground,  face 
downwards,  and  instructed  Devlin  to  sit  on  his  legs. 

"Put  your  hands  into  mine,"  he  told  her.  "First 
one,  then  the  other." 

It  required  a  great  effort  of  faith  to  loose  her 
hold,  but  it  was  her  only  chance  and  she  obeyed. 
She  felt  his  hands  close  over  hers —  such  strong 
hands,  though  gentle,  as  strength  so  often  is — and 
the  next  moment  she  was  drawn  up,  swung  round 
and  landed,  breathless,  giddy  but  safe  on  the  solid 
ground.  Devlin,  deadly  pale,  was  leaning  against 
the  castle  wall  and  Marjory  was  crying  in  a  corner. 

EOR  the  first  time  in  her  life  Anne  Trelawney 
knew  what  fear  meant.  Never  again  would 
she  accord  that  kindly  tolerance  to  others 
which  had  hitherto  been  her  attitude  towards  fearful 
and  timid  souls.  Her  lips  were  white  and  her  limbs 
trembled  under  her  as  she  held  out  her  hand  to 
Mexborough  and  thanked  him  in  broken  words 
for  having  saved  her.  Devlin  made  a  step  forward, 
then  drew  back.  It  was  Mexborough,  not  he,  who 
guided  her  down  the  steep  path  and  praised  her 
courage. 


"It  is  alright,  Miss  Trelawney,"  he  said  en- 
couragingly. "You  feel  the  reaction  now,  and  no 
wonder.  It  was  a  nasty  experience,  but  people 
run  these  risks  every  day  for  a  movie." 

"I  will  go  and  fetch  the  car,"  said  Devlin  and 
started  ahead. 

He  returned  with  it  presently  and  they  got  in, 
the  two  girls  inside  and  the  men  in  front.  Anne 
leant  back  and  closed  her  eyes;  her  wrists  ached 
with  the  severe  strain,  her  whole  body  felt  bruised 
and  broken,  but  there  was  more  than  this  behind. 
Devlin  had  not  spoken  to  her,  had  not  even  con- 
gratulated her  on  her  escape.  What  did  it  mean? 
Had  she  made  a  mistake  in  thinking  that  he  cared 
for  her?  It  seemed  impossible  when  she  remem- 
bered his  looks  and  words  that  afternoon  and  yet 
what  else  could  she  believe?  Common  politeness 
demanded  that  he  should  say  something;  he  was 
her  host  and  responsible  in  some  measure  for  her 
safety  since  he  had  brought  her  to  the  place  where 
she  had  so  nearly  lost  her  life.  Was  it  jealousy? 
Was  he  vexed  because  she  owed  her  safety  to 
Mexborough  and  not  to  him?  Surely  not;  he  knew 
very  well  that  she  had  no  feeling  for  his  friend 
beyond  esteem  and  liking.  Marjory's  hand  stole 
into  hers  and  she  returned  the  tender  pressure,  but 
she  did  not  speak.  Her  cousin  respected  her  silence 
which  seemed  to  her  only  natural;  she  herself  was 
shaken  and  unnerved,  for  her  fright  had  been  very 
great.    What  a  mercy  Mexborough  had  been  there! 

^^[HEY  reached  the  hotel  and  Anne  got  out 
L^J  without  seeming  to  see  Devlin's  hand  out- 
^"^   stretched  to  help  her. 

"Marjory,"  she  said,  "I  want  to  go  round  to  the 
Holy  Man's  house.     I  shall  not  be  long." 

"But  are  you  fit  to,  Anne?"  asked  Marjory 
anxiously.     "Shall  I  come  with  you?" 

"No,  dear,  uncle  Richard  would  not  like  it." 

"May  I,  Miss  Trelawney?"  asked  Devlin. 

She  looked  at  him.  What  did  this  mean? 
Then  she  remembered  that  he  was  a  Catholic,  which 
she  had  forgotten  for  the  moment. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  and  they  set  out  in 
silence. 

"You  are  going  to  give  thanks  for  your  escape," 
he  said  at  last. 

"Yes,"  she  answered. 

"In  that  I  at  least  I  may  join  you,  for  if  ever  a 
man  had  cause  for  thankfulness  too  deep  for  words 
it  is  I.  Do  you  know  what  I  felt  today  when  you 
hung  over  the  abyss  and  I  could  not  reach  you? 
When  Charlie  saved  your  life  before  my  eyes  and 
I  stood  by?  I  almost  hated  him;  I  would  have 
given  all  my  money  for  his  strength.  I  would  have 
risked  my  life  a  thousand  times  to  save  you,  but  I 
was  helpless.  And  you,  what  did  you  think  of  me? 
A  poor  weakling  who  stood  on  one  side  and  let 
another  man  save  the  woman  he  loved!" 

"Oh,  no!  no!  no!"  cried  Anne,  overborne 
by  the  passion  with  which  he  spoke,  and  bursting 


THE  1*  SIGN 


into  tears.    "How  could  you  think  such  a  thing!" 

"You  turned  away  from  me.  You  would  not 
speak  to  me." 

"It  was  you,  I  thought,  who  would  not  speak  to 
me,"  she  faltered. 

"Because  I  did  not  dare.  Anne — what  a  perfect 
little  name  it  is!  It  is  like  yourself ,  there  is  nothing 
to  add  to  it  and  nothing  to  take  away.  Again  and 
again  today  I  tried  to  speak  to  you  but  you  would  not 


let  me.  I  would  have  spoken  though  in  spite  of  you 
except  for  this.  Love  does  not  count  by  days  and 
months  but  by  the  striking  hours,  the  hours  which 
decide  our  lives,  and  this  is  one.  Anne,  do  you  love 
me?" 

They  had  reached  the  Holy  Man's  house :  she 
turned  to  him,  her  eyes  shining  through  her  tears. 

"Shall  we  go  in  and  ask  a  blessing?"  she 
whispered,  and,  baring  his  head,  he  followed  her. 


Deepest    Depth 

Placidus  M.  Endler 

'Then   snail   He  say:    I   know   you   not." 
Than   this   there   is   no   sadder   lot, 

To   be   by   Lov"e   Itself  forgot! 


Weariness    and    Constancy 


^T^EARINESS  is  accountable  for  much  of  our 
\^£y  inefficiency.  The  manner  in  which  a  man 
resists  weariness,  whatever  the  cause  of  it, 
and  carries  on,  marks  him  as  a  man  of  character 
before  the  world,  and  as  a  man  of  virtue  before  God. 
Worldlings  are  wiser  and  more  energetic  in  striving 
for  temporal  gain  and  advantages  than  are  professed 
Christians  in  their  spiritual  endeavors. 

Many  instances  are  known  of  stupendous  labors 
wrought  in  spite  of  chronic  infirmities  and  well-nigh 
insurmountable  obstacles.  Real  heroism  is  revealed 
in  a  letter  written  by  Robert  Louis  Stevenson  a  year 
before  his  death : 

"For  fourteen  years  I  have  not  had  a  day's 
real  health.  I  have  awakened  sick  and  gone  to  bed 
weary;  and  I  have  done  my  work  unflinchingly.  I 
have  written  in  bed  and  out  of  it,  written  in  hem- 
orrhages, written  in  sickness,  written  torn  by  cough- 


ing, written  when  my  head  swam  from  weakness; 
and  for  so  long,  it  seems  to  me  I  have  won  my 
wager  and  recovered  my  glove.  I  am  better  now — 
have  been  rightly  speaking — since  first  I  came  to 
the  Pacific;  and  still,  few  are  the  days  when  I  am 
not  in  some  physical  distress.  And  the  battle  goes 
on, — ill  or  well  is  a  trifle — so  it  goes.  I  was  made 
for  a  contest,  and  the  Powers  have  so  willed  that 
my  battlefield  should  be  this  dingy,  inglorious  one 
of  the  bed  and  the  physic  bottle.  At  least  I  have 
not  failed,  but  I  would  have  preferred  a  place  of 
trumpetings  and  the  open  air  over  my  head." 

The  cure  for  weariness  is  not  to  be  found  in 
any  quack  medicine,  or  in  any  physical  culture 
regime,  or  in  any  New  Thought  vagary.  It  is  to  be 
found  in  keeping  constantly  before  us  a  high  ideal 
of  life.  The  world  would  regard  as  a  fanatic  one 
who  would  do  for  his  soul  half  as  much  as  Stevenson 
did  to  gain  a  literary  crown. 


Standardization   in   the   Moral   World 


Mark  Moeslein,  C.  P- 


STANDARDIZATION  is  the  obsession  of 
the  twentieth  century.  Over  the  South 
is  a  far-reaching  movement  to  standardize 
the  staple  of  cotton.  Elsewhere  the  same 
is  being  done  for  other  products  of  the  soil.  Labor 
is  being  standardized,  and  so  is  business.  So  much 
is  being  written  and  spoken  about  standardization 
that  even  children  grasp  more  or  less  definitely 
what  the  big  word  means ;  that  it  denotes  something 
better  than  has  been  hitherto  attained. 

Standardization  is  not  a  new  vision  of  life  and 
its  opportunities.  It  is  as  old  as  the  human  family; 
for  the  great  tempter  used  it  to  the  wretched  harm 
of  the  race:  "Ye  shall  be  as  gods."  Thus  he  pro- 
voked Eve  to  long  for  what  appealed  to  her  as 
better  than  what  she  had.  The  abject  submission  to 
the  exactions  of  fashion  is  an  ever-present  mani- 
festation of  the  imperious  lure  for  conforming  to 
what  has  been  set  as  a  standard.  Fashion  enforces 
conditions  of  slavery  from  which  few  men  and  fewer 
women  have  the  courage  to  break  away.  Hence, 
standardization  may  be  either  for  the  ruin  or  for 
the  uplift  of  mankind.  The  accepted  standard 
determines  whether  or  not  the  vision  is  for  woe  or 
weal. 

Standardization  is  a  natural  impulse.  From 
the  wild  boy  whose  aim  is  to  make  his  gang  the 
toughest  in  town  to  the  model  citizen  or  saint,  every 
one  strives  to  standardize  himself,  his  conduct  and 
his  accomplishments.  Though  we  glory  in  liberty, 
every  one  of  us  is  a  slave  to  a  master  of  his  own 
choosing.  This  master  is  the  elected  standard  or 
purpose  of  life.  No  master's  rule  is  so  despotic  as 
our  subconscious  impulse  to  live  according  to  stand- 
ards. One  may  have  a  variety  of  aims;  but  among 
them  will  be  one  which  dominates  all  others.  This 
is  the  actual  standard.  The  others  are  only  means 
to  its  attainment.  "No  man  can  serve  two  masters." 
What  is  written  of  life  generally,  is  in  an 
especial  manner  true  of  its  moral,  spiritual  and 
religious  phases.  Men  will  be  moral  or  immoral, 
spiritual  or  animal,  religious  or  materialistic,  as  is 
their  dominating  standard.  One's  needs  and  modes 
of  life  are  so  changeable  that  one  may  be  dominated 
successively  by  divers  standards  in  a  comparatively 
short  time.  Such  is  the  sad  experience  of  many. 
Few  are  uniformly  moral,  spiritual  and  religious 
for  long  periods.  The  majority  walk  the  easy  road 
of  repeated  moral  lapses. 

y^^HE  chief  standards  are  two :  one  spiritual  and 
I)  the  other  carnal;  one  heavenly  and  the  other 
^*^  earthly;  one  divine  and  the  other  materi- 
alistic. God  inspires  the  first  term  of  each  of  these 
couplets;  but  the  second,  is  the  work  of  Satan. 
One  lifts  men  up  to  God,  making  them  akin  to  the 
angels;   the  other  lowers  men,  making  them   akin 


to  the  beasts.  The  Bible  differentiates  the  followers 
of  these  two  standards  as  "the  sons  of  God,"  and 
the  offspring  "of  the  daughters  of  men."  The  Savior 
classifies  them  as  the  servants  of  God,  and  the 
servants  of  Mammon. 

The  very  soul  of  the  divine  standard  is  the 
acceptance  and  carrying  out  of  God's  plans  for  the 
betterment  of  mankind.  The  nature  of  Satan's 
standard  is  self-gratification. 

Hence,  the  divine  standard  of  living  is  one 
for  all  men;  yet  by  reason  of  its  sublimity,  it  is 
suitable  for  the  endless  variety  of  abilities  and 
conditions  of  men  in  all  walks  of  society  and  in  all 
ages.  The  march  of  those  who  follow  it,  is  always 
heavenward,  to  higher  levels  of  moral,  spiritual  and 
religious  excellence,  even  unto  God  Himself,  trans- 
forming them  into  the  children  of  God. 

Not  so  with  the  Tempter's  standards.  They 
are  as  manifold  as  the  classes  of  men.  Every  one 
fashions  standards  to  suit  his  fancy.  All  of  which 
lead  away  from  God  and  debase  the  individual  and 
the  race.  Our  age,  so  remarkable  for  standard 
making  for  the  uplift  of  mankind,  is  palpable 
evidence  thereof.  In  national  life,  we  have  the 
unrest  which  drives  people  into  the  indescribable 
horrors  of  Sovietism.  In  the  field  of  labor  and 
business,  the  selfishness  and  greed  of  industrialism, 
commercialism  and  capitalism  grind  mankind  be- 
tween the  upper  and  lower  mill-stones  of  the  materi- 
alistic interpretation  of  life.  In  individual  life,  the 
lust  for  sensuous  ease  and  pleasure  carries  men 
and  women  and  children  along  with  the  irresistable 
force  of  mountain  torrents.  At  every  stage  of  the 
progress  of  the  followers  of  earthly  standards,  may 
be  repeated  the  words  of  the  Prophet  Osee,  speaking 
of  the  carnal-minded  Israelites:  they  "become 
abominable,  as  those  things  were  which  they  loved." 

Since  there  is  no  escaping  the  impulse  to  live 
by  standards  it  is  of  vital  interest  to  us  to  study 
the  divine  standardization  which  is  for  our  weal, 
lest  we  be  engulfed  in  the  woe  to  which  earthly 
standards  inevitably  lead. 

eOD  in  His  mercy  gave  us  a  Standard-Bearer 
Who  is  a  visible,  tangible  model  of  the  divine 
standard  of  life  in  action;  pointing  to  Jesus 
of  Nazareth,  He  calls  on  us  to  live  as  the  lowly 
Nazarene,  every  one  according  to  his  ability  and  the 
conditions  of  his  life. 

In  Jesus  Christ  we  have  the  union  of  the  human 
and  the  divine;  for  He  is  both  God  and  Man.  In 
all  things,  only  sin  and  human  personality  excepted, 
a  man  such  as  we  are.  It  was  most  fitting  that  He 
should  unite  in  Himself  the  human  and  the  divine 
and  thus  be  the  living  link  uniting  God  and  the 
human  race.  A  mere  man  could  hardly  hold  us 
any  more  than  other  great  and  good  men  do.    God 


THE  1*  SIGN 


alone  is  so  far  above  us  that  it  is  difficult  for  us  to 
keep  in  close  touch  with  Him.  But  the  Son  of  God, 
incarnate  in  our  nature,  brings  God  close  to  us. 

That  we  might  see  Him  and,  as  it  were,  'handle' 
Him,  it  is  marvellous  how  Jesus  took  to  Himself 
the  lowliness  of  our  lot.  From  Bethlehem  to  Cal- 
vary, He  submitted  to  the  galling  hardships  of  our 
life,  not  even  temptation  excepted.  Frequently 
flashes  of  His  divinity  revealed  that  He  is  immense- 
ly more  than  man;  but  the  normal  course  of  His  life 
is  that  of  poverty,  hardships  and  persecution 
unto  death.  It  was  a 
most  fitting  arrangement. 
Whilst  faith  goads  us  on 
to  yearn  and  strive  for 
the  spiritual  grandeur  of 
character  which  associa- 
tion with  God  produces, 
hardships  of  all  kinds 
make  it  most  difficult  to 
reach  Him  Who  alone 
can  make  us  truly  great. 
Our  Standard  -  Bearer 
showed  forth  in  Himself, 
the  pattern  which  we 
must  copy;  but  He  did 
it  in  the  midst  of  the 
most  human  trials. 

Hence,  it  is  not  at 
all  startling  to  witness 
how  much  the  remem- 
brance and  veneration  of 
the  lowliness  of  Jesus 
are  interwoven  into  the 
religious  life  of  Catho- 
lics. Wherever  one  turns 
in  our  churches  there  are 
reminders  of  His  humili- 
ty. The  Stations  on  the 
walls  tell  the  sad  story 
of  His  painful  journey 
to  Calvary.  The  Crucifix 
on  the  altars  is  a  constant  memorial  of  His  death. 
His  real  Presence  in  the  Eucharist  is  a  permanent 
exhibition  of  His  abasement.  All  these  bring  home 
to  devout  believers  that  His  debasement  elevates 
us,  His  wounds  heal  us,  His  death  is  our  entrance 
into  life. 

[0  too  is  the  worship  of  Catholics  most  intim- 
ately associated  with  the  remembrance  of 
the  self-sacrificing  life  of  Jesus.  There 
are  weeks  of  preparation  for  honoring  the  recur- 
rence of  His  birthday.  The  Christmas  festivities 
are  celebrated  about  a  miniature  stable  with  its 
manger-cradle.  The  weeks  that  follow  are  spent 
with  Him  in  the  obscurity  of  His  hidden  life  at 
Nazareth.  Then  His  forty  days  of  fast  and  tempta- 
tion in  the  wilderness  are  brought  home  to  earnest 
souls  by  the  devotional  and  penitential  exercises 
of   Lent.     The   mournful   services   of   Holy   Week 


Salve   Regina 

Bernard   D.   Ward 

Thou  art  my  Queen  ! 

I  dare  to  call  Thee  so, 

Lo\>e  conquers  my*  timidity, 

I'd  have  Thee  knov?, 

OK  Mother  Mar>),  Virgin  blest. 

My  soul  can  find  no  peace,  no  rest, 

Unless  it  be  that  Thou  shalt  deign 

To  make  my  heart  Thy  throne  and  reig 

For  then  I  know  that  come  xtfhat  may\ 

Naught  can  harm  me  on  my  way 

Thro'  Life,  until,  its  mission  done, 

Thou  vCilt  lead  me  to  Thy*  Son, 

The  King  of  Kings,  and  then  I  \\>een, 

Truly  Thou  wilt  be  my  Queen. 


recall  the  details  of  His  Passion.  During  the  forty 
days  following  the  Resurrection,  there  is  an  air  of 
surpressed  triumphant  joy.  The  Summer  and 
Autumn  months,  between  Pentecost  and  Advent, 
are  rich  in  remembrance  of  His  wanderings,  His 
association  with  the  poor,  the  ignorant,  the  afflicted 
— benefitting  all,  teaching  all  the  sublime  doctrines 
and  ennobling  precepts  of  the  new  life  of  the 
children  of  God. 

The  same  remembrance  and  veneration  of  the 
lowliness  of  Jesus  are  in  evidence  in  the  homes 
of  Catholics  and  in  the 
personal  life  of  even 
careless  members  of  the 
Church.  Pictures  of 
Him  adorn  the  walls. 
The  crucifix  is  promin- 
ently placed.  Many  men, 
women  and  children 
carry  about  with  them 
pocket  crucifixes.  From 
childhood  until  death, 
they  never  tire  of  making 
the  Sign  of  the  Cross. 

But  throughout  His 
life,  frequent  lightning 
flashes  reveal  His 
divinity.  At  Bethlehem, 
angel  choirs  proclaim  the 
glad  tidings  of  His  birth. 
The  mysterious  star 
guides  the  Magi.  As  a 
mere  boy  of  twelve,  He 
astounds  the  wise  and 
learned  by  the  astuteness 
of  His  questions  and 
answers.  On  the  banks 
of  the  Jordan,  the  Holy 
Spirit  rests  on  Him  in 
visible  form  and  the 
Eternal  God  proclaims 
Him  to  be  His  well- 
beloved  Son.  In  the  desert,  angels  minister  to  Him. 
At  Cana,  a  word  changes  water  into  wine.  A  mere 
touch  gives  sight  to  the  blind,  hearing  to  the  deaf, 
health  to  the  sick,  and  life  to  the  dead.  On  Thabor, 
the  splendors  of  His  transfiguration  bespeak  His 
Godhead.  At  His  death,  the  sun  is  darkened,  the 
earth  quakes,  the  dead  arise.  Then,  His  Resur- 
rection. Forty  days  later,  He  fulfills  His  prophecy 
and  ascends  into  heaven. 

XT  was  most  fitting  that  the  lowliness  of  His 
humanity  should  be  thus  relieved  by  the 
majesty  of  His  divinity.  It  is  also  most 
fitting  that  in  our  remembrance  and  worship  of  Him, 
Jesus  should  stand  forth  as  one  who  truly  bore  our 
infirmities,  but  bearing  them  as  one  sustained  by 
the  power  of  the  indwelling  divinity.  It  was  most 
fitting  that  the  divinely-appointed  model  of  the  new 
life,  should  come  down  to  the   level   of   our   life; 


26 


THE  +  SIGN 


and  that  His  life  should  be  intensely  more  lowly, 
more  difficult,  more  self-sacrificing  and  more 
permeated  by  hardships  of  all  kinds  than  ours;  for 
example  is  inexpressibly  more  forceful  than 
preaching.  But  His  humbling  Himself  under  the 
mighty  hand  of  God  must  also  bear  the  stamp  of 
the  divinity,  so  that  His  stooping  to  our  level  might 
have  in  it  the  power  to  lift  us  to  the  level  of  the 
God-Man. 

This  wonderful  and  inspiring  combination  of 
human  lowliness  with  the  majesty  of  the  divinity 
in  Jesus  Christ,  is  the  only  standard  of  living  which 
truly  ennobles  men.  The  range  of  His  humility 
was  and  is  so  vast  that  every  one  can  truly  say:  "He 
bore  my  infirmities;  He  left  me  an  example  how 
to  bear  my  burdens  and  how  to  conquer;  He 
strengthens  me  to  strive  for  the  realization  of  the 
greatest  Christian  ambition  to  which  the  Apostle  of 
the  Gentiles  gave  expression  when  he  wrote :  "With 
Christ  I  am  nailed  to  the  cross.  And  I  live,  now 
not  I;  but  Christ  liveth  in  me." 

This  is  Christ's  standardization  of  the  life  of 
God's  adopted  children.  Meeting  all  the  conditions 
of  life  in  His  fashion  is  the  pledge  which  binds 
every  sincere  believer.  Fidelity  to  this  pledge 
explains  why  the  life  of  Catholics  is  different  from 
that  of  other  men.  The  imitation  of  the  meekness 
of  Jesus  accounts  for  the  vast  armies  of  saintly 
Catholic  men,  women  and  children.  Their  remem- 
brance and  worship  of  the  divinity  of  Jesus  in  the 
midst  of  abjection  convinces  them  that  they  are 
following  in  His  footsteps. 

iir^HERE  life  is  thus  standardized,  the  emissaries 
Tl  1  of  Bolshevism  rant  in  vain,  because  the  fol- 
v*^  lowers  of  Jesus  are  swayed  by  other  ideals. 
Their  longing  is  to  be  like  unto  the  God-Man  and 
most  unlike  animal  men  whose  heaven  is  altogether 
in  the  good  things  of  earth.  The  appeals  of  indus- 
trialists, commercialists  and  capitalists  are  no  more 
effective,  because  the  imitators  of  Jesus  remember 
His  word  and  example:  "Seek  ye  therefore  first  the 
kingdom  of  God  and  His  justice,  and  all  these 
things  shall  be  added  unto  you."  When  wordly 
wisdom  urges  retaliation  for  insult,  calumny,  in- 
justice and  persecution,  remembrance  of  how  He 
fared  and  what  He  enjoined,  nerves  them  not  only 
to  forgive  but  even  to  pray  for  the  offenders: 
"Blessed  are  ye  when  they  shall  revile  you,  and 
persecute  you,  and  speak  all  that  is  evil  against  you, 
untruly,  for  My  sake :  be  glad  and  rejoice,  for  your 
reward  is  very  great  in  heaven 

Life  thus  standardized  accounts  for  the  multi- 
tudes of  Catholic  Sisters  who  left  all  in  order  to 
devote  themselves  to  the  service  of  the  poor  and 
aged,  of  the  sick  and  diseased,  of  the  orphan  and 
the  abandoned,  yes,  and  of  social  outcasts.  The 
example  of  the  God-Man  inspires  them.  In  the 
midst  of  the  upheavals  of  the  ancient  civilization 
of  paganism,  the  much  despised  monks  retired  to 
dense  wildernesses  and  took  possession  of  swamp 
lands,    to    transform    them    into    fertile    fields    and 


establish  new  centres  of  a  higher  and  better  civili- 
zation to  be  places  of  refuge  for  the  poor  and 
oppressed.  What  allured  them  was  the  example 
of  Jesus.  Everywhere  throughout  the  world,  civilized 
and  uncivilized,  we  are  confronted  by  the  spectacle 
of  the  most  cultured  class  of  men,  the  Catholic 
priesthood,  consecrated  to  the  service  of  those 
most  in  need  of  moral  and  spiritual  aid.  They 
forego  the  advantages  their  scholarship  places 
within  their  reach,  to  labor  among  all  classes,  but 
more'  so  among  the  lowly.  The  word  and  example 
of  the  Master:  "The  gospel  is  preached  to  the  poor," 
are  a  compelling  call  to  go  and  do  likewise. 

^tt^HAT  is  thus  briefly  stated  of  the  three  more 
r  J  J  conspicuous  classes  of  Catholics  who  strive 
^*^  to  standardize  their  life  according  to  the 
heavenly  standard  is  no  less  true  of  that  more  vast 
army  of  Catholic  saints,  both  hidden  and  known. 
They  can  be  met  by  the  thousands  and  ten  thous- 
ands the  world  over,  when  they  assemble  to  worship 
the  glorified  Jesus  in  the  Holy  Eucharist.  In  the 
Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass  He  continues  in  an 
unbloody  manner  the  offering  of  His  body  and 
blood  for  the  good  of  mankind.  In  Holy  Communion 
He  debases  Himself  to  the  condition  of  food — 
spiritual  food,  it  is  true,  but  food  all  the  same — to 
nourish  those  who  receive  Him  and  strengthen  them 
to  live  of  His  life.  Their  modes  of  life  show  the 
results  of  spiritual  contact  with  Jesus.  Whilst  they 
shun  the  "better  than  thou"  air,  they  are  different 
from  other  men.  Their  ideals  are  different,  their 
life  is  standardized  along  different  lines.  Parents 
glory  in  the  number  of  their  children,  at  great  cost 
providing  for  their  little  ones  a  Catholic  education 
which  is  vastly  more  than  mere  schooling.  They 
remember  Jesus'  word  and  blessing  for  children. 
Employers  and  business  managers  gladly  accept 
the  services  of  practical  Catholic  men  and  women, 
because  they  realize  that  the  standard  of  Catholic 
honest  and  faithful  service  is  higher.  Among  Catho- 
lic working  classes  there  is  none  of  the  riotous  world 
unrest,  so  much  in  evidence  elsewhere;  for  they 
worship  as  the  God-Man  the  Carpenter's  Son  and 
Himself  a  carpenter. 

In  the  study  of  Catholic  life,  evidences  accumu- 
late that  it  is  standardized  along  lines  distinctively 
its  own.  They  worship  both  in  theory  and  daily 
practice  the  majesty  of  God  in  the  lowliness  of 
Jesus.  Their  remembrance  and  veneration  of  both 
gives  tone  to  their  mentality  and  motive.  Hence, 
they  are  in  a  normal  position  to  use  the  varied 
forms  of  individual  life  as  so  many  stepping  stones 
in  their  closer  and  closer  approach  unto  God,  striving 
ever  more  for  their  transformation  from  sons  of  the 
daughters  of  men  into  sons  of  God:  "You  are  gods 
and  all  of  you  sons  of  the  Most  High."  It  is  of  the 
very  sap  of  Catholic  mentality,  to  realize  that  only 
close  contact  with  Jesus  can  save  men  individually 
and  collectively:  "For  there  is  no  other  name  under 
heaven  given  to  men,  whereby  we  must  be  saved." 


Maria   Desolata 

(The  Broken-Hearted  Mother) 
Grace  V.  Christmas 


^^^^HE  wailing  melody  of  the  Miserere,  sung 
m  C\  at  Tenebrae  in  the  great  Basilicas  in  Rome, 
■L  )  has  died  away  into  silence,  and  the  sun  has 
^^^  set  in  a  blaze  of  scarlet  and  gold.  So  far 
as  the  tourists  and  the  majority  of  the  residents  are 
concerned,  the  functions  of  Good  Friday  are  at  an 


Cross.  And  it  is  only  in  Italy  that  her  children  do 
her  reverence  with  a  special  devotion  on  Good 
Friday. 

Holy  Church  seems  to  realize  that  all  the 
devotions  of  Holy  Week  should  be  centered  directly 
on  Jesus  Crucified,  and  hence  to  make  up,  as  it  were, 


AT  THK   FOOT  OF  THE  CROSS 


end,  but,  here  and  there,  in  a  few  isolated  churches 
and  convent  chapels,  there  is  being  held  a  short 
service  in  honor  of  Maria  Desolata.  This  is  the 
sweet  names  given  by  the  Italians  to  the  Blessed 
(Virgin  standing  broken-hearted  at  the  foot  of  the 


for  any  apparent  neglect  of  His  Sorrowful  Mother 
she  sets  aside  the  third  Sunday  of  September  as  the 
feast  of  the  Seven  Sorrows.     It  is  this  feast  that 
brings  before  us  the  Blessed  Virgin's  desolation. 
Let  us  think  of  that  desolation.   Let  us  try  for  a 


THE  1*  SIGN 


moment  to  see  with  Mary's  eyes,  to  feel  with  her 
heart,  to  realize,  even  faintly,  what  the  evening  of 
Good  Friday  must  have  been  like  to  her.  She,  who 
was  fashioned  by  God  for  one  particular  purpose, 
must  surely  have  been  endowed  with  a  nature  keenly 
attuned  to  joy  and  grief;  and  as  her  purity  exceeded 
that  of  any  other  human  being,  it  is  certain  that  her 
capacity  for  intense  suffering  out-measured  that  of 
others.  There  are  thousands  of  desolate  mothers 
throughout  the  world  at  the  present  time,  but  not 
one  of  them  has  ever  fathomed,  as  Mary  has,  the 
very  depths  of  human  suffering. 

After  the  strain  of  those  awful  hours  on  Mt. 
Calvary  there  fell  on  the  soul  of  that  stricken  Mother 
an  aching  sense  of  desolation,  and  in  her  heart  there 
rang  the  echo  of  her  dying  Son's  utter  dereliction: 
"My  God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  me."  To  lose 
one  we  love  by  death,  or  by  the  still  more  cruel 
separation  of  misunderstanding,  seems  to  us  the 
acme  of  human  woe ;  but  our  feelings  in  this  respect 
are  but  as  a  breeze  rippling  upon  the  waters  of  a 
shallow  stream  compared  with  the  storm  of  grief 
which  overwhelmed  our  Mother  when  her  tortured 
Son  died  before  her  very  eyes. 

QND  yet,  when  all  was  over,  we  may  be  sure 
that  in  the  midst  of  her  anguish  it  was  she 
who  consoled  and  comforted  the  less  intense 
grief  of  the  disciples  and  holy  women  who  had 
witnessed  the  great  tragedy.  St.  John,  he  who  of 
all  the  twelve  most  closely  resembled  His  Divine 
Master,  has  summed  up  the  attitude  of  Mary  during 


the  Sacred  Passion  in  one  significant  word :  "There 
stood  by  the  Cross  of  Jesus  His  Mother."  Not  with 
the  prone  abandonment  of  St.  Mary  Magdalen,  but 
with  the  calm  and  dignity  that  befitted  the  Mother 
of  the  King. 

Mary  stood  beside  the  Cross,  an  example  and 
object  lesson  to  all  generations,  teaching  them  how 
to  endure.  That  is  how  she  would  have  us  take  our 
trials — standing.  We  are  to  battle  with  the  ever 
encroaching  waves  as  they  rise  to  engulf  us;  we  are 
to  struggle  unceasingly  to  carry  our  cross  in  resigna- 
tion and  in  a  spirit  worthy  of  reward. 

There  are  many  different  ways  of  bearing 
sorrow.  Sometimes  it  hardens  and  embitters  the 
entire  nature,  so  much  so  that  with  some  resentful 
idea  of  "hitting  back,"  we  rebel  against  Him  Who 
has  imposed  the  cross  upon  our  shoulders,  and  deli- 
berately neglect  the  service  of  Him  Who  has 
afflicted  us.  Sometimes  we  may  lie  down  beneath 
cross  and  render  life  a  burden  to  ourselves  and 
others  either  by  constant  complaints  or  the  morose- 
ness  of  our  silence.  Again,  we  may,  if  we  wish, 
follow,  as  far  as  our  sinful  limitations  will  permit, 
in  Mary's  footsteps.  We  thus  submit  to  our  trials 
because  it  is  the  will  of  God  that  we  should  patiently 
bear  them.  We  refuse  to  be  beaten  by  them.  We 
strain  our  eyes  for  that  gleam  of  silver  that  lines 
the  darkest  cloud.  We  are  thus  purified  and 
strengthened  through  sufferings.  We  thus  stand 
with  the  Broken-hearted  Mother  at  the  foot  of  the 
Cross. 


A   Quaint   Sermon 


HOR  many  non-Catholics  there  is  a  remarkable 
attraction  in  stories  from  the  lives  of  St. 
Francis  of  Assisi  and  his  lovable  companions. 
Under  the  title  "A  Quaint  Sermon"  The  Youth's 
Coaipanion  tells  its  large  Puritan  audience  that  in 
one  of  the  great  Italian  cathedrals  a  noted  Friar  of 
the  Order  of  Franciscans,  then  newly  founded,  was 
preaching.  A  great  concourse  of  people  filled  the 
building,  and  twilight  deepened  the  heavy  shadows 
of  the  dimly  lit  and  heavily  arched  chancel  and 
nave.    The  friar  preached  almost  in  darkness. 

His  theme  was  God's  Love  to  Men  and  Their 
Response.  With  the  passionate  eloquence  of  the 
period,  he  pictured  God's  mighty  act  of  creation, 
the  wonder  of  His  gift  of  life  to  men  and  the  beauty 
of  the  earth.  But  more  especially  he  dwelt  upon 
the  gift  of  the  Only-Begotten  Son — the  matchless 
beauty  of  Christ's  life  among  men — the  glorious 
redemption  offered  in  Him  to  all  who  would  repent 
and  believe.  The  friar's  earnestness  deeply  im- 
pressed   the   people,   and   a    solemn    stillness   hung 


over  the  vast  assembly.  The  darkness  by  this  time 
had  deepened  still  further,  and  the  congregation 
could  only  just  perceive  the  outline  of  the  friar's 
dark-robed  figure. 

"Now,"  he  continued,  "let  us  consider  how  man- 
kind has  responded  to  the  divine  goodness  and 
mercy." 

With  those  words  he  left  the  pulpit  and  passed 
slowly  to  the  altar.  From  among  its  many  candles 
he  chose  one  and  lighted  it.  The  one  gleam  of  pure 
light  shone  upon  a  great  crucifix  hung  above  the 
altar.  Slowly  and  solemnly  and  without  a  word,  in 
the  breathless  stillness  of  that  vast  throng,  the 
friar  raised  the  candle  until  it  lit  up  first  one  wound, 
then  another,  in  the  feet,  the  hands,  the  side,  and 
finally  the  sacred  head  of  the  Crucified. 

There  the  light  lingered  a  moment,  and  the  hush 
deepened  upon  the  awe-struck  congregation.  Then 
he  blew  out  the  light  and  sat  down.  The  sermon 
was  over.  The  stillness  was  broken  only  by  audible 
sobs. 


Archconfraternit))  of 


CONDITIONS  for  membership  in  the  Arch- 
confraternity  of  the  Passion  are  as  simple 
as  they  are  few.  Everyone  can  do  some- 
thing in  the  apostleship  of  the  Cross,  and 
by  uniting  their  efforts  to  this  society  may  receive 
the  many  rich  blessings,  which  the  Church  has  grant- 
ed to  its  members.  How  often  a  beautiful  flower 
escapes  attention,  but  when  placed  with  others  in  a 
bouquet  or  to  form  a  design,  it  seems  to  attract  the 
notice  at  once  and  to  win  some  praise  from  all 
beholders. 

Thus  it  is  in  the  Archconfraternity,  where  "two 
or  three  are  gathered  together  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Crucified,"  their  prayers  and  works  are  more  pleas- 
ing to  God  and  greater  favors  are  obtained  for  souls. 
This  society  grows  in  numbers  day  by  day.  Its 
members  are  convinced  it  is  worth  while,  and 
acknowledge  that  the  conditions  for  membership  are 
neither  numerous  nor  difficult. 

Are  not  some  preliminary  steps  necessary  and 
advantageous  ?  Every  society  has  a  definite  purpose 
and  a  determined  means  of  accomplishing  it.  A 
particular  service  then  is  expected  from  the  mem- 
I  bers,  who  must  first  qualify,  or  prove  they  are  able 
to  render  it.  Hence,  some  conditions  are  placed 
by  every  society  before  anyone  can  be  admitted  to 
membership. 

Again,  the  success  of  an  organization  depends 
on  its  members.  Their  interest  obliges  them  to 
uphold  its  standard,  to  accept  its  rules,  to  set  forth 
its  excellence  and  advantages,  to  profit  by  its  privi- 
leges and  benefits,  that  working  together  they  may 
easily  and  successfully  attain  the  end  of  the  society. 
Certain  requirements  therefore  are  demanded  of 
those  seeking  admission,  in  order  to  protect  the 
organization  from  unsuitable  or  unworthy  members; 
and  as  much  as  such  conditions  for  membership  are 
insisted  upon  and  observed,  the  society  will  stand 
in  high  esteem  and  will  succeed  in  the  fulfillment  of 
its  purpose. 

The  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion  admits 
only  practical  Catholics.  They  may  claim  all  the 
rights  and  blessings  of  membership  on  the  following 
conditions:  1,  if  their  names  are  recorded  on  the 
register  of  the  Archconfraternity;  2,  if  they  have 
been  approved  and  accepted  by  the  Director;  3,  if 
they  have  been  invested  in  the  Black  Scapular  of  the 
Passion. 

/^fNROLLMENT  then  is  the  first  and  an  essential 
\^j[  condition  for  membership  in  the  Archcon- 
:  ^-^  fraternity  of  the  Passion.  To  join  this  society, 
one  should  give  or  send  one's  name  to  the  Director, 


the    Sacred    P 


assion 


emberskip 

at  the  same  time  expressing  the  desire  to  belong  to 
the  Archconfraternity.  The  Director  may  know 
some  very  good  people,  and  would  like  to  extend  to 
them  the  advantages  of  the  Archconfraternity,  but 
he  is  obliged  to  wait  until  they  have  given  their 
names  for  admission  to  membership.  Some  also 
may  have  received  the  Black  Scapular  of  the 
Passion,  but  they  do  not  enjoy  the  privileges  of  the 
Archconfraternity  until  their  names  are  recorded  on 
its  register.  So  this  first  condition  of  enrollment  is 
really  the  most  important. 

This  condition  however  places  the  Archcon- 
fraternity within  the  reach  of  many,  who  could  not 
otherwise  share  in  it.  The  people,  who  are  doing 
so  much  for  God's  honor  and  glory  and  the  salvation 
of  souls  by  their  fervent  prayers  and  patient  suffer- 
ing, who  have  to  labor  all  the  day  long  and  at  the 
same  time  perhaps  bear  some  heavy  cross  of  sorrow, 
the  poor,  the  afflicted,  the  invalid,  the  aged,  those 
unable  to  leave  their  homes  or  who  live  at  some 
distance,  all  should  welcome  this  opportunity  of 
honoring  Jesus  Crucified  and  spreading  devotion  to 
His  Sufferings  by  sending  their  names  to  the  Direc- 
tor of  the  Archconfraternity  to  be  accepted  and 
enrolled  as  members. 

There  are  many  also,  who  practice  some 
devotion  to  the  Passion  every  day  or  frequently. 
They  should  hasten  to  add  their  names  to  the  Arch- 
confraternity, that  the  devout  remembrance  of  Our 
Lord's  Passion  may  not  only  bring  life  and  grace 
to  themselves,  but  may  also  be  an  effective  means 
of  saving  and  sanctifying  many  souls.  All  who  can 
therefore  should  be  enrolled  in  the  Archconfraternity 
of  the  Passion.  For  what  consolation,  happiness, 
reward,  must  await  the  departing  soul,  who  during 
life  has  been  numbered  among  the  missionaries  of 
Christ  Crucified! 

Application  for  membership  in  the  Archcon- 
fraternity means  in  the  first  place  to  give  one's  name 
to  the  Director  to  be  registered.  The  second  con- 
dition implies  the  approval  and  acceptance  of  the 
member  by  the  Director.  In  the  past  years  this 
approbation  was  granted  only  after  a  month,  or  a 
year,  or  some  period  of  time  had  elapsed,  but  now 
it  is  usually  given  as  soon  as  the  name  is  received. 

^^^HE  well  being  and  success  of  the  Archconfra- 
\)  ternity  depends  on  the  Director.  While  it  is 
^^^  his  duty  to  secure  as  many  good  members  as 
possible,  he  may  be  obliged  at  times  to  refuse 
membership  to  the  unworthy,  or  those  unable  to 
partake  of  the  benefits  of  the  society.  He  must 
exclude   Catholics  who   are   negligent   in   attending 


3° 


THE  +  SIGN 


Mass  on  Sundays  and  very  seldom  approach  the 
Holy  Sacraments,  or  give  scandal  by  evil  example. 
Non-Catholics,  of  course,  are  not  eligible  for  mem- 
bership. But  the  Director  will  gladly  accept  the 
names  of  all,  who  desire  the  knowledge  ancMove  of 
Jesus  Christ  Crucified  and  hope  to  obtain  eternal 
life  through  the  merits  of  His  Passion  and  Death. 

When  the  Director  records  a  name  on  the 
register  of  the  Archconfraternity,  a  certificate  of 
membership  is  issued  as  a  token  of  his  approval 
and  acceptance.  In  some  places,  a  manual  contain- 
ing information  about  the  Archconfraternity  and 
devotions  in  honor  of  the  Passion  of  Our  Lord  is 
given  to  new  members.  If  any  member  should 
unfortunately  prove  undeserving  of  the  honors  and 
graces  of  the  Archconfraternity,  the  Director  may 
erase  his  name  from  the  register,  thus  depriving 
that  person  of  membership.  This  happens  very 
rarely,  if  at  all,  because  the  thought  of  Christ's 
sufferings  keeps  one  safely  in  the  right  way  and 
more  frequently  than  any  other  motive  inspires 
generous  self  sacrifice  and  every  virtue.  For  mem- 
bers of  the  Archconfraternity  especially,  the  Passion 
of  Our  Lord  is  their  guide,  their  protection,  their 
strength,  and  their  daily  reward. 

Now  as  nearly  all  societies  have  a  formal 
initiation  of  new  members,  so  the  Archconfraternity 
of  the  Passion  regards  the  reception  of  the  scapular 
as  the  final  step  to  full  membership  in  the  society. 
This  scapular  is  a  small  piece  of  black  cloth,  with 
the  badge  fastened  to  it,  as  seen  in  the  religious 
habit  of  the  Passionists.  It  denotes  affiliation  to 
the  missionary  Order  founded  by  St.  Paul  of  the 
Cross  to  preach  Christ  Crucified  and  promote  devo- 
tion to  the  Passion.  Many  blessings  and  indulgences 
have  been  granted  by  the  Church  for  wearing  this 
scapular.  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  calls  it  "the  sign  of 
salvation;"  and  in  truth  it  brings  salvation  to  those 
who  strive  to  be  worthy  of  it. 

QEW  members  usually  receive  the  Black  Scapu- 
lar of  the  Passion  at  a  regular  meeting  of  the 
Archconfraternity.  Kneeling  before  the 
Director,  or  the  priest  who  is  blessing  the  Scapular, 
the  solemn  prayer  is  read,  which  recalls  the  principal 
sufferings  of  our  Divine  Savior.  The  Scapulars  are 
blessed,  and  then  as  the  priest  places  it  on  the 
shoulder  of  each  one,  he  says:  "May  the  Lord 
clothe  thee  with  the  New  Man,  that  through  this 
mournful  and  sacred  sign  of  penance,  thou  mayest 
always  look  upon  Jesus,  Whom  the  hands  of  impious 
men  have  crucified,  and  mourn  for  Him,  as  one 
mourneth  for  an  only  son.     Amen." 

When  all  the  new  members  have  been  invested 
with  the  Scapular,  the  priest  adds :  "And  I,  by  the 
faculty  granted  to  me,  receive  you  to  a  participation 
of  all  the  spiritual  advantages,  which  by  virtue  of 
Apostolic  privilege,  are  enjoyed  by  the  Congregation 
of  the  Most  Holy  Cross  and  Passion  of  Our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ.  In  the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the 
Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Amen."  The  ceremony 


is  finished  with  the  words:  "May  the  Passion  of 
Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  be  always  in  our  hearts. 
Amen." 

Such  are  the  few  conditions  required  for  admis- 
sion to  the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion :  enroll- 
ment on  the  register,  acceptance  by  the  Director,  and 
reception  of  the  Black  Scapular.  No  admission  fees 
have  to  be  paid;  no  promises  have  to  be  made;  no 
rules  are  imposed,  which  if  omitted,  imply  any 
penalty  or  loss  of  any  privileges.  There  are  no 
degrees  among  the  members,  except  what  they 
themselves  establish  by  their  fidelity  in  practicing 
some  devotion  in  honor  of  the  Passion  and  their  zeal 
in  persuading  others  by  word  and  example  to  remem- 
ber the  Sufferings  and  Death  of  Christ. 

Our  Holy  Father,  Pope  Benedict  XV.  endowed 
the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion  with  extra- 
ordinary graces  and  indulgences,  and  expressed  the 
wish  that  it  would  bring  home  the  lessons  of  Calvary 
to  the  whole  world.  To  bring  the  whole  world  home, 
therefore,  to  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  the  advantages 
of  the  Archconfraternity  have  been  made  exception- 
ally great,  while  the  conditions  for  membership  are 
simple  and  few  and  within  the  power  of  all,  who 
yearn  to  know  and  love  Him,  Who  gave  His  life  for 
them. 


y^E^HOSE  who  wish  to  join  the  Archconfraternity 
L^J  of  the  Passion  may  apply  in  person  or  by 
^*"^  letter  to  the  Father  Rector  of  any  Passionist 
Monastery  where  the  Archconfraternity  is  canoni- 
cally  established.  Apply  to  the  monastery  nearest 
your  residence. 

St.  Michael's  Monastery 

West  Hoboken,  New  Jersey 

St.  Joseph's  Monastery 

3800  Frederick  Ave. 

Baltimore,    Maryland 

St.  Gab-riel's  Monastery 

159  Washington  St. 

Brighton,  Mass. 

St.  Ann's  Monastery 

Scranton,  Pa. 

St.  Paul's  Monastery 

Carson  Station 

Pittsburgh,  Pa. 

St.  Mary's  Monastery 

Dunkirk,  N.  Y. 

Sacred  Heart  Retreat 

Newburg  Road 

Louisville,  Ky. 

Passionist  Preparatory  College 

Normandy,  Mo. 


••■:iisyi^L^I>«ii}syt)«/.':-r 


In   Hoc   Signo! 

J.  Corson  Miller 

Men  say  we're  dust  of  dreams, — no  more,  no  less, 
Have  kinship  \tfith  the  rose, — the  blade  of  grass; 
And,  like  the  sunset-breeze,  we  rise  and  pass 
Into  the  dark;  that  -tie  do  onward  press, 
Blindly,  against  the  goal  to — Nothingness: 
Each  man  a  bit  of  that  atomic  mass 
That  Science  calls  the  Cosmos, — flame  and  gas — 
Which  is  our  chemic  prototype  and  dress. 

But  I  have  felt  the  whirr  of  love's  warm  wings, 
And  heard  a  child's  wnite  prayer  at  twilight's  hou 
I've  known  the  song  the  shriven  spirit  sings, 
Newly  released  from  sin's  debasing  power. 
Pi.-tia.-yl  with  men's  despair  and  sickening  dross ! 
I  see  Christ's  face  upon  His  cruel  cross. 


FSfiraraftu;  \7,  «£  ;7,  r*7  ;,7,  u7  ;7,  ;,1 »7  u7,  ;7.  ;7, ;,?,  ;7,  u7  £7*7  *7 ;.".:  >7,  ;7m7-,  u7  -„7  *7  *7  u7  *7  ii7  :7.  ,7.  ;.7  r.7  >-7  ;7.  *7  *7  *7  IS 


Giosue   Borsi:   Poet,   Soldier,   Convert 


Pasquale  Maltese 

HE  World  War  was  the  occasion  of  reveal- 
ing many  and  varied  extraordinary  types 


CO 

^^^V  of  character  who  already  have  had  their 
day  and  vogue.  Few  of  those  who  loomed 
large  in  the  public  eye  during  the  long  period  of 
strife  are  destined  to  survive  the  immediate  after- 
math of  the  war.  Among  the  small  minority  who  will 
outlive  the  memory  of  this  tempestuous  generation 
is  to  be  numbered,  I  think, 
the  youthful  Italian  Lieu- 
tenant, Giosue  Borsi. 

Though  distinguished 
among  his  contemporaries 
for  his  valor,  his  lasting 
appeal  will  rest,  not  upon 
his  record  as  a  soldier,  but 
upon  his  attainments  in 
letters  which  made  him  a 
conspicuous  figure  in  pres- 
ent day  Italian  intellectual 
and  social  circles,  and 
upon  his  rare  qualities  of 
soul  expressed  in  his 
mystic  writings  which  so 
wonderfully  portray  the 
intimate  communings  of  a 
man  with  his  Maker,  and 
which  have  already  taken 
a  unique  place  in  the 
devotional  literature  of 
the  Church. 

I  shall  always  regard 
it  as  an  exceptional  privi- 
lege to  have  been  instru- 
mental in  placing  within 
the  reach  of  the  English-reading  public  some  of 
these  writings.  If  I  may  be  permitted  to  confess 
a  thing  so  personal,  I  once  said  to  my  dear  friend, 
the  lamented  Henrico  Caruso,  that  I  had  thought  his 
voice  the  most  beautiful  in  all  the  world,  but  that  I 
had  discovered  another  voice  wider  in  range  and 
sweeter  in  melody — the  voice  of  Giosue  Borsi. 

At  the  request  of  the  Editors  of  The  Sign  I 
gladly  give  an  outline  of  the  life  of  this  brilliant 
youth  which  will  be  helpful,  I  trust,  in  making  him 
better  known  and  enhance  his  writings  for  those  who 
are  already  familiar  with  their  charm. 


61 


a'TFNAXT   G 


IOSUE  BORSI  was  born  in  Leghorn,  Italy, 
June  10,  1888.  His  parents  were  Averardo 
Borsi  and  Verdiana  Fabbri.  He  was  one  of 
three  children.  His  sister  Laura  was  two  years 
older  and  his  brother  Gino  some  years  younger. 

From  his  earliest  years  he  manifested  remarka- 
ble literary  ability.  At  the  age  of  13  he  wrote  a 
poem  to  his  mother  which  the  distinguished  Pro- 
fessor Romagnolo  does 
not  hesitate  to  term  a 
classic.  At  15  he  wrote 
and  published  a  volume  of 
poems  entitled  Primus 
Fons;  and  at  17  another 
volume,  Scruta  Obsoleta. 
At  20  he  was  recognized 
as  a  foremost  commenta- 
tor on  Dante.  I  have  be- 
fore me  a  much-prized 
gold  medal,  given  me  by 
Giosue's  mother,  which 
was  presented  to  him  by 
the  Dantean  Society  of 
Italy  on  the  occasion  of 
his  delivering  a  masterly 
oration  on  the  greatest  of 
Christian  poets.  He  suc- 
ceeded his  father  as  editor 
of  //  Nuovo  Giornale  of 
Florence  at  the  age  of  22. 
Unfortunately,  Giosue 
was  raised  in  an  irreligi- 
ous atmosphere.  His 
osue  borsj  father  was  the  owner  and 

general  editor  of  a  chain 
of  strongly  anti-clerical  newspapers.  He  was  not 
an  atheist,  as  some  have  said.  Probably  he  would 
call  himself  a  Catholic,  and  he  was  one  after  a 
fashion.  It  was  owing  largely  to  his  writings  that 
the  crucifix  was  retained  in  the  Italian  courtrooms 
when  its  removal  was  urgently  insisted  upon  by  his 
anti-clerical  associates.  Madame  Borsi  could  hardly 
be  called  a  practical  Catholic.  Whatever  religion 
there  was  in  the  family  she  had.  If  to-day  she  is 
an  exemplary  Catholic  her  conversion  is  due  to  her 
son. 

Giosue  received  his  first  Holy  Communion  in 


THE  +SIGN 


his  fourteenth  year.  The  ceremony  took  place 
privately  in  a  village  church  and  probably  without 
the  consent  or  knowledge  of  his  father.  This  is  the 
only  external  act  of  religion  recorded  in  his  life 
until  his  conversion  some  twelve  years  later. 

He  made  his  higher  studies  in  the  University 
of  Leghorn  where  he  received  his  degree  in  lav/. 
He  had   no  particular   liking   for  the   bar,   and   on 
quitting  the  university  he 
adopted    journalism    as    a 
profession.    His  first  work 
was  on  //  Nuovo  Giomale, 
owned  and  edited  by  his 
father. 

The  elder  Borsi  died 
Dec.  10,  1910.    His  death 
was   due   chiefly  to  grief 
over     a     family     tragedy 
which  involved  the  honor 
of     his     daughter.       Not 
quite     two     years     later 
Laura   herself   died,   July 
18,  1912.    Both  died  with- 
out   the    sacra- 
ments and  were 
denied     Chris- 
ian     burial. 
They    were 
buried  together 
in  the  cemetery 
of  Porte  Sante 
in    the    section 
reserved     for 
non  -  Catholics. 
Their   tomb    is 
simply  inscrib- 
ed —  Averardo 
Borsi     1858- 
1910.        Laura 
Borsi     1886- 
1912. 

Giosue's  sensitive  nature  was  deeply  touched  by 
the  early  and  unhappy  demise  of  his  father  and 
sister.  In  company  with  his  mother  he  frequently 
visited  the  cemetery,  seeking  solace  in  nearness  to 
the  remains  of  those  whom  he  had  so  passionately 
loved.  In  the  course  of  these  visits  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  some  of  the  local  Franciscan  Fathers. 
Between  him  and  Father  Biagio  Cinaldino,  O.  F.  M. 
there  grew  up  a  warm  friendship.  The  good  friar 
could  not  fail  to  be  impressed  by  the  many  beautiful 


k 

■  ^^^^ 

1  nfl 

mA 

m     \ 

traits  of  the  young  Borsi  and  strove  to  impress  him 
with  the  sheer  vanity  of  earthly  ambitions  and 
accomplishments.  At  his  suggestion  Giosue  com- 
menced the  serious  reading  of  the  Bible,  the  Little 
Flowers  of  St.  Francis  and  the  Confessions  of  St. 
Augustine. 

Up  to  this  time  he  had  lived  and  written  as  a 
cultured  pagan.  If  he  had  any  definite  plan  in  life 
it  was  to  be,  after  the 
manner  of  St.  Augustine 
"a  peddler  of  rhetoric;" 
and,  like  Augustine  again, 
he  was  carried  away,  with 
all  the  torrential  exuber- 
ance of  his  warm  southern 
temperament,  into  a  very 
vortex  of  dissipation.  His 
immorality  was  none  the 
less  gross  for  all  his  polish 
and  refinement. 

There  is  one  striking 
witness  to  an  innate  spirit- 
uality in  him  which  was 
never     quite 
e  x  t  i  nguished. 
This    was    his 
pure    love    for 
a  sweet  Catho- 
lic girl.  He  has 
idealized  her  in 
a    series    of 
love    letters 
published     un- 
der    the     title 
Letters  to  Julia. 
He  had  such  an 
exalted    regard 
for  her  charac- 
ter   that    he 
could    not    ex- 
press orally  his 
intense  affection  and  admiration.     He  wrote  these 
letters  to  her  but  never  had  the  courage  to  send 
them. 

It  seems  that  the  first  definite  step  towards 
his  conversion  was  taken  in  connection  with  his 
editorial  work.  In  the  interests  of  his  newspaper 
he  had  frequently  consulted  with  Father  Guido 
Alfani,  P.  M.,  Director  of  the  Florentine  Observatory 
and  famous  as  a  seismologist.  He  was  largely 
responsible  for  discrediting  Guilio  Ulivi,  the  man 


THE  +  SIGN 


who  had  all  the  European  military  authorities 
actively  interested  in  his  manipulation  of  ultra-red 
rays  whereby,  he  claimed,  bombs  might  be  exploded 
at  a  distance  without  the  use  of  wires  or  other 
contact  apparatus.  Giosue  was  an  enthusiastic 
admirer  of  Ulivi  and  energetically  championed  his 
claims  in  the  columns  of  his  newspaper. 

Though  keenly  disappointed  with  Father 
Alfani's  unmasking  of  Ulivi's  pretensions,  Giosue 
continued  to  visit  the  priest  who  proved  himself  as 
thorough  a  guide  of  souls  as  he  was  a  scientist.  It 
was  he  who  satisfied  Giosue's  religious  difficulties 
and  received  him 
back  into  the 
Church.  To  him 
the  new  convert 
could  justly  say: 
"I  owe  you  more 
than  my  life." 

ON  July  18, 
1914,  the 
second  an- 
niversary of  his 
s  i  s  t  e  r's  death, 
during  the  Mass 
offered  for  the  re- 
pose of  her  soul, 
young  Borsi  re- 
ceived Holy  Com- 
munion for  the 
second  time  in  his 
life.  On  this  oc- 
casion he  received 
not  with  the  per- 

functoriness  of  a  careless  school-boy  but  with  the 
solid  fervor  of  a  convinced  Catholic.  He  had  pre- 
pared himself  by  repeated  confessions  and  long 
hours  of  prayer  and  meditation.  After  Communion 
he  exclaimed:     "Now  begins  the  new  life." 

What  that  new  life  was  may  be  best  judged 
from  his  Spiritual  Soliloquies.  He  began  the  writing 
on  them  May  4,  1915,  and  finished  October  16,  1915. 
There  are  fifty-four  in  number,  and  are  replete  with 
salient  points  and  suggestions  on  all  phases  of  the 
spiritual  life.  They  seem  to  have  been  written  under 
the  influence  of  a  marvellous  infusion  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  By  some  they  are  regarded  as  a  twentieth- 
century  version  of  the  Confessions  of  St.  Augustine. 
Cardinal  Maffi,  who  confirmed  Giosue,  has  expressed 
the  opinion  that  they  will  stand  with  the  Confessions 


BORSI'S    BLOOD-STAINED    COPY    OF   DA? 


as  amongst  the  greatest  ascetical  literature  produced 
by  the  Church. 

^y^HEN  Italy  entered  the  European  war  Borsi 
\\y  enlisted  at  once.    From  the  very  first  he  had 
a  presentiment  that  he  was  to  die  in  battle. 
That  feeling  became  very  real  to  him  and  colored 
everything  he   did.     He   proved   himself   to   those 
under  his  command  to  be  the  kind  of  soldier  he 
desired  to  be:  "I  truly  hope  that  the  Lord  God  has 
given  me  the  grace  of   a   fairly  brave   heart  that 
nothing  can  shake.     I  hope  that  if  I  shall  fall  I 
shall    fall    like    a 
good     strong 
soldier,  with  calm, 
serene    and    fear- 
less    courage;     I 
hope  that  I  shall 
show   myself    in- 
trepid before  my 
soldiers;    I    hope 
that  the  death  so 
many    times     de- 
sired and  invoked 
will    not    succeed 
in  overcoming  me 
with     cowardly, 
childish        fright, 
but    that    I    shall 
welcome   it   smil- 
ing,  like   a   good 
friend,  and  accept 
it     with     honor." 
His      men      have 
testified  how  vali- 
antly he  led  them  in  action,  and  what  an  inspiration 
to  courage  and  steadfastness  his  own  example  gave 
them. 

One  of  the  few  loves  his  conversion  did  not 
compel  him  to  sacrifice  was  his  love  for  Dante.  He 
always  carried  a  copy  of  the  beloved  author  in  his 
coat  pocket.  His  new  life  had  given  a  fresh  in- 
terpretation to  the  words  of  the  great  poet. 

On  November  10,  1915,  Giosue  Borsi  fell 
mortally  wounded  while  gallantly  leading  his  pla- 
toon to  the  attack  on  the  Isonzo  front.  When  his 
comrades  reached  him  they  saw  him  press  to  his 
heart  his  copy  of  Dante  which  was  stained  with  his 
blood.  Before  he  died  he  handed  them  the  book 
and  said:  "Give  that  to  my  mother.  May  my  sacri- 
fice and  her  sacrifice  be  acceptable  to  God." 


THE  1 

'HORTLY  after  his  death  his  last  letter  was 
found.  It  had  been  written  on  October  21. 
It  was  addressed  to  his  mother  and  was  to 
be  delivered  to  her  only  in  the  event  of  his  death. 
It  is  a  singularly  human  document  glorified  with 
the  beautiful  Christian  spirit  of  filial  piety.  Trans- 
lated into  many  languages  it  has  made  the  rounds 
of  the  world.  Thus  the  deep  love  for  his  mother 
which  impelled  him  to  write  his  first  poem  in  her 
honor  was  with  him  in  the  moment  of  death  and  is 
witnessed  to  after  his  passing. 

The  whole-hearted  conversion  of  Giosue  Borsi 
came  as  a  shock  to  the  anti-clericals  who  had  hoped 
that  this  talented  young  man  would  prove  an  able 
successor  to  his  father  in  the  ranks  of  anti-Catholic 
journalists.  He  has  become  instead  a  very  apostle 
of  Catholicism.  His  writings  are  an  inspiration  for 
many  to  seek  the  higher  things,  and  a  proof  that 
the  Church,  through  her  teachings  and  sacraments, 
can  still  take  our  human  clay,  however  weak  and 
tainted,  and  build  it  up  into  a  breathing  saint. 

Borsi  is  the  patron  saint  of  the  intellectuals. 
He  in  the  twentieth  century,  as  Dante  in  the  thir- 
teenth, illustrates  the  age-old  truth  that  the  human 


SIGN 

soul  is  by  nature  Christian,  and  that  the  highest 
gifts  of  genius  have  their  fullest  play  in  the  expres- 
sion of  those  dogmatic,  eternal  truths  which  the 
Church  formulates  in  clearest  terms  and  voices  in  the 
unhesitating  accents  of  divine  authority. 

^^^HE  influence  of  Borsi  in  Italy,  practicularly, 
%/J  is  a  palpable  force.  The  anti-clericals  claim 
him  as  their  own,  and  regard  his  conversion 
to  Catholicism  as  the  weakness  of  a  great  mind 
under  the  stress  of  intense  sorrow  and  morbid 
brooding. 

That  the  Catholic  view  of  Borsi  is  the  correct 
one  is  proved  beyond  doubt  by  his  spiritual  writings 
which  abundantly  show  that  it  is  only  a  deep  love 
for  God  that  can  beget  expansive  and  genuine 
sympathy  for  men. 

The  Catholic  view  is  further  established  by  the 
large  number  of  young  men,  mostly  university 
students,  upon  whom  Borsi's  example  is  exercising 
a  most  healthful  influence.  His  cult  grows  daily.  I 
may  sum  up  the  results  of  his  active  influence  in 
words  which  some  time  since  I  wrote  his  mother: 
"You  have  lost  one  son.  God  has  given  you  a 
thousand." 


X 


The   Holy   Rosary 


'N  his  encyclical  letter  on  the  centenary  of 
St.  Dominic  the  Holy  Father  takes  occa- 
sion to  encourage  the  devotion  of  the 
Rosary.  The  Rosary  is  the  dearest  devo- 
tion to  the  Mother  of  God.  Ever  Catholic  knows  that 
intimacy  with  Mary  preserves  him  from  indifference 
and  tepidity  and  that  the  Rosary  is  the  simplest 
means  of  maintaining  that  intimacy.  Thus,  too, 
it  becomes  a  daily  source  of  grace  and  spiritual 
stimulation  and  very  nearly  a  guarantee  of  final 
perseverance. 

Recommendations 

1.  Esteem  the  Rosary  for  its  antiquity  and  the 
prodigies  wrought  through  it  for  peoples  and  indi- 
viduals in  desperate  need.  Esteem  it  for  its  origin : 
the  prayers  composing  it  and  their  peculiar  sequence 
were  composed  and  approved  in  heaven.  No  more 
precious   words   and   sentiments   could   we   repeat. 


Direct  approval  of  this  repetition  of  prayers  we  have 
from  our  Lord :  "Knock,  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto 
you,"  and  by  His  own  example :  "Jesus  prayed  the 
third  time  saying  the  self  same  word." 

2.  Recite  the  Rosary  once  a  day :  preferably 
early  in  the  day  if  you  find  that  at  bed  time  you  are 
generally  too  weary  for  mental  effort.  Carry  your 
beads  about  with  you  so  that  on  busy  days  you  may 
seize  any  opportunity  which  offers  to  say  your 
Rosary  even  while  abroad. 

3.  Recite  your  Rosary  always  slowly  and 
fervently.  Said  thus  it  will  take  up  only  ten  minutes. 
Said  with  distraction  and  feverish  haste  it  will  in- 
variably seem  an  onerous  and  tedious  exercise. 
Time  never  drags  wearily  when  we  bring  close  at- 
tention and  interest  to  what  we  are  doing. 

4.  See  that  all  the  proper  indulgences  are 
applied  to  your  beads,  especially  that  you  may  share 
these  indulgences  with  the  departed. 


Whereon   The})   Crucified   Him 


Hubert  Cunningham,  C.  P. 


XN  the  article  published  in  the  preceding 
issue  of  The  Sign  I  attempted  to  show  that 
devotion  to  the  holy  Passion  of  Our  Lord 
reaches  back  to  the  beginnings  of  Chris- 
tianity; that  all  other  devotions,  compared  with  it 
are  recent — that  love  for  Christ  Crucified  is  the 
fountain  source  and  the  motive  of  every  other 
Christian  devotion. 

This  is  thought — provoking.  It  is  solidly  true 
that  the  more  we  study  it  the  more  convincing  it 
becomes  and  the  more  attractive.  For  that  reason 
I  feel  induced  to  follow  it  up. 

The  preceding  paper  treated  the  subject  only 
in  a  general  way  but  it  would  be  an  unfortunate 
mistake  to  suppose  that  devotion  to  Christ  Crucified 
in  the  lives  of  His  children  was  ever,  even  in  the 
earliest  days  of  the  Church,  a  vague  generality,  a 
sporadic  whim  or  an  elusive  sentiment.  No;  it  was 
a  ruling  factor  in  the  lives  and  conduct  of  the  people 
and  showed  itself  in  substantial  realities,  as  all 
solid  devotion  must,  by  vigorous,  definite,  particular 
and  public  facts  and  in  many  and  bold  and  beautiful 
ways.  One  of  these  ways  was  the  devotion  of  Chris- 
tians to  the  holy  Cross  of  Christ.  We  can  trace  this 
all  the  way  back  to  Calvary  as  an  uninterrupted 
practice. 

Devotion  to  the  holy  Cross  of  Christ  is  a  subject 
that  is  full  of  edification  but  it  is  vast — so  far  stretch- 
ing that  I  cannot  attempt  to  cover  it.  This  article 
will  contain  just  a  few  matters  of  instructive  and 
edifying  interest  on  early  devotion  to  the  holy  Cross 
just  to  show  our  Catholic  people  in  some  better  way 
how  fundamentally  set  in  the  history  and  texture 
of  the  holy  faith  is  this  beautiful  devotion  and  so  to 
supply  their  minds  with  more  solid  food  for  fervor. 

Devotion  to  the  Cross  of  Christ  goes  right  back 
to  the  very  infancy  of  the  Church.  It  is  gratifying 
to  recall  that  there  have  been  painted  in  these  later 
years  and  that  in  spite  of  the  vulgar  and  commercial 
trend  of  art,  many  very  excellent  Calvary  pictures. 
One  of  these  occurs  to  me  just  now  as  appropriate 
to  my  thought.  The  subject  is  an  aftermath  of  the 
Great  Tragedy  and  is  painted  by  P.  R.  Morris  and 
he  entitles  the  work  "Whereon  They  Crucified  Him." 
The  artist  shows  a  bare  cross  staked  upright;  a 
rope  left  dangling  over  the  two  sides  of  the  cross- 


beam, reaches  to  the  ground  and  hanging  awry  from 
one  of  the  arms  of  the  cross  is  the  title  which  had 
been  placed  over  the  Savior's  head.  Standing  there 
in  front  of  the  cross,  gazing  intently,  sadly,  is  a 
sandal-shod  mother  eagerly  lifting  up  her  babe  that 
he  might  the  better  see  the  solemn  sight.  With  the 
inerrancy  of  Christian  instinct  the  artist  has  caught 
the  truth  and  in  this  simple  and  direct  way  he  tells 
the  story  of  early  Christian  devotion  to  the  Cross 
of  Christ.  It  would  stamp  that  Cross  upon  the 
heart  from  very  babyhood!  That  picture  defines 
my  thought. 


^^^HE  bitter  Passion  of  our  Blessed  Savior  ended 
^^  with  the  crucifixion  and  His  sacred  death 
upon  that  Cross.  This  we  know  was  horrible 
in  the  extreme.  That  is  the  reason  why  it  was  a 
punishment  fit  for  and  inflicted  upon  only  the  most 
brutal  and  degraded  class  of  criminals.  It  is  what 
Tacitus  calls  supplicium  servile,  the  slave's  punish- 
ment. For  that  reason  in  Rome  itself  it  was 
forbidden  by  law  to  condemn  to  this  form  of  death 
any  but  the  slave.  The  unfortunate  so  condemned 
was  striped  naked  and  nailed  to  two  cross  tree 
trunks  or  stout  branches  and  lifted  up  for  mockery 
to  the  view  of  the  public.  The  nails  which  paled 
him  to  those  two  beams  were  the  only  support  of 
the  wretched  man's  weight.  There  he  hung  fixed, 
conscious,  suffering,  watching  himself  die,  and  there 
he  hung  for  hours,  some  times  for  days  of  this 
excruciating  agony  while  people  passed  him  by  or 
heartlessly  gazed  or,  worse  still,  jeered  at  his 
miserable  condition — at  his  pains,  his  tears,  his 
groans  and  his  cries.  It  was  a  death  of  human 
cruelty  and  lingering  misery,  it  was  long-drawn-out 
and  salted  with  open  and  public  disgrace. 

This  unspeakable  punishment  was  the  acme  of 
all  those  sufferings  which  poor  Jesus  Christ  had 
been  now  bearing  for  the  previous  fifteen  hours  and 
the  mystified,  discredited  and  heart-broken  lovers 
of  our  Blessed  Savior  felt  the  bitterness  of  it  to  the 
quick.  Yes,  they  knew  the  acid  meaning  of  utter 
defeat  and  its  complete  anguish. 

But  when  the  climax  of  that  horrible  tragedy 
came  with  sudden  mid-day  darkness  and  cracking 


THE  1*  SIGN 


rocks  and  the  spectral  forms  of  dead  men  flitting 
through  the  gloom,  and  when  scared  and  skulking 
crowds  groped  their  stumbling  way  down  that  hill- 
side moaning  that  they  had  murdered  the  Living 
God,  the  vision  of  the  holy  Cross  as  the  majestic 
center  of  all  the  universal 
forces  wrecked,  drawn  and 
swirling  about  it  as  helpless 
as  chaff  in  the  cyclonic 
winds  shot  down  into  their 
bosoms  with  a  vividness 
never  to  be  forgotten  and 
into  their  hearts  as  the 
embodiment  of  the  Sacred 
Passion  of  Christ  and  the 
symbol  of  His  unconquera- 
ble power.  From  that  day 
and  in  these  impressive 
surroundings  when  Jesus 
consecrated  its  precious 
wood  by  His  wounds,  by 
His  sufferings,  by  His 
blood  and  by  His  death, 
and  when  by  its  weakness 
and  its  shame  He  overcame 
the  powers  of  the  world, 
the  holy  Cross  became  an 
object  of  Christian  love  and 
veneration.  Christian  de- 
votion to  the  Cross  began 
on  Mount  Calvary. 

In  the  thought  thus 
expressed  there  is  sublime 
Christian  inspiration.  It 
surely  makes  a  man  feel 
proud  of  his  faith  and  of 
his  fathers.  But  the  state- 
ment is  not  the  product  of 
fertile  imagination  or  of 
perfervid  pietism;  no,  it  is 
the  fruit  of  calm  and  accu- 
rate   research.      Following 

the    lines    of    ordinary    in-  whereon  they 

vestigation  we  can  trace  Christian  devotion  to  the 
holy  Cross  back  and  back  further  through  the 
mists  and  the  mazes  of  all  the  past  centuries  with  a 
clearness  that  is  unmistakable  and  by  arguments 
of  every  kind,  from  friend  and  from  enemy. 
Wherever  we  search  in  every  age  and  every  country 
the  children  of  the  Church  have  left  the  Cross 
traceable  upon  everything  with  which  their  lives 
came  in  contact. 


nERE  is  a  very  simple  illustration  of  it.  A 
young  man  named  Orestis  and  a  splendid 
type  of  the  all-round  athlete,  was  entered  as 
an  attraction  for  the  games.  At  throwing  the 
discus  he  was  a  star,  and  while  executing  this  feat 
his  cross  fell  out  of  his 
clothing  on  to  the  field. 
Such  an  accident  as  this 
is  touching;  to  us  Catholics 
it  is  living  and  very  human. 
The  like  of  it  might  happen 
and  is  happening  today. 
Wherever  our  Catholic 
young  men  gather  they 
carry  with  them  the  eviden- 
ces of  their  faith  and  de- 
votion— on  to  track  and  dia- 
mond, as  we  saw  them 
carry  their  crucifix  with 
courage  and  confidence  into 
the  camps  and  on  to  the 
battlefields  of  Europe.  But 
this  incident  did  not  happen 
here  or  among  the  athletes 
of  to-day;  it  happened 
away  off  in  Cappadocia 
and  away  back  in  the  fourth 
century.  That  fallen  cross 
there  on  the  field  showed 
that  this  star  discus-thrower 
was  a  Christian.  The 
pagans  murdered  him  for 
that  and  so  we  have  St. 
Orestis,  the  Martyr,  giving 
us  an  example  of  devotion 
to  the  holy  Cross  as  it  was 
practised  fifteen  hundred 
years  ago. 

This  is  interesting  and 
convincing.  Can  we  find 
such  evidences  as  this  any 
further  back  than  this? — 
for  the  further  back  we 
go  the  more  interesting  this  matter  becomes.  Yes, 
we  can  go  back,  a  hundred,  even  two  hundred  years 
further  and  find  the  same  evidences  of  this  beautiful 
practice.  In  my  search  of  his  subject  I  have  not 
been  satisfied  to  accept  at  face  value  the  quotations 
and  citations  which  I  have  met.  Wherever  it  has 
been  possible  I  have  gone  to  the  source  myself  and 
with  the  result,  namely:  that  I  have  seen  the  holy 
Cross  appearing  in  the  writings  of  the  third  and  the 


CRUCIFIED 


THE  1*  SIGN 


second  century  as  variously,  spontaneously  and  in 
as  matter-of-course  a  way  as  it  might  appear  in  the 
works  of  any  Catholic  writer  of  our  own  times.  It 
comes  up  in  all  phases  and  on  all  occasions. 

aT  this  point  I  am  naturally  impelled  to  give 
some  passages  from  these  ancient  writers 
but  my  quotations  would  have  to  be  few 
and  short  and  so  the  argument  which  they  would 
form  would  be  weak  and  misleading.  It  would  not 
even  suggest  the  immense  weight  behind  it  for  the 
evidence  is  indeed  a  veritable  mass.  As  well  might 
I  expect  to  convince  a  blind  man  of  the  vastness  of 
an  ocean  scene  by  allowing  a  drop  of  water  to  fall 
upon  his  eager,  outstretched  hand  as  by  a  few 
sentences  from  these  writers  to  demonstrate  the 
sweeping  testimony  which  they  give  to  the  universal 
presence  of  the  holy  Cross  in  the  religious  lives  of 
their  contemporaries. 

Here  I  would  ask  the  reader  to  stop  for  a  while 
and  think  and  allow  the  full  force  of  these  state- 
ments to  sink  into  the  mind  for  it  is  all  very  wonder- 
ful.    We  must  particularly  remember  that  we  are 


not  here  talking  about  the  decayed  remnants  of 
some  past  glory,  of  the  hazy  lines  of  a  great  historic 
feat  nor  the  discovered  evidences  of  quaint,  fantastic 
and  faded  national  customs;  there  is  no  question  of 
a  valuable  but  dead  relic  of  the  vanished  ages  such 
as  a  moss-covered  ruin,  an  ancient  mummy  or  a 
crumpled  papyrus.  This  article  is  not  talking  of 
anything  dead  but  of  a  living  thing  of  the  present 
day,  of  something  that  is  a  real  fact  and  a  mighty 
factor  among  the  men  and  women  of  our  own  time — 
an  actual  constituent  of  our  own  lives.  We  are 
studying  Catholic  devotion  to  the  holy  Cross  of 
Jesus  Christ,  that  same  which  we  know  so  well  as  a 
part  of  the  daily  and  hourly  religious  life  of  our  own 
Catholic  people,  in  our  churches  and  in  our  homes 
and  in  our  own  conduct ;  we  are  looking  at  this  same 
as  it  appears  in  history  and  we  are  able  to  trace 
it  —  clear,  distinct,  vigorous  —  in  spite  of  all  the 
wreckage  and  the  rubbish  of  devastating  time  back 
and  back  for  nigh  to  eighteen  hundred  years.  Could 
it  possibly,  by  any  authentic  evidences,  be  brought 
nearer  than  this  to  its  source  ?  This  we  shall  see  in 
our  next  paper. 


The   Greater   Love 


OUR  Lord's  Passion,  like  a  wonderful  melody, 
never  grows  old.  As  often  as  it  is  heard, 
the  human  heart  is  stirred  with  unwonted 
emotion  and  glows  more  ardently  with  an 
answering  love.  Love  always  exercises  a  powerful 
influence  over  the  human  heart,  and  the  greater  the 
love  the  more  absolute  its  sway.  The  Sacred 
Passion  is  the  story  of  love,  infinite  and  eternal — 
hence,  the  everlasting  vigor  of  its  reign. 

Of  Cyrus,  King  of  Persia,  it  is  told  that,  having 
conquered  Arabia,  he  brought  with  him  as  captive 
on  his  triumphal  return  a  queen  noted  for  her  dignity 
and  beauty.  Her  husband  at  once  made  his  way 
to  Persia  to  liberate  her.  When  he  appeared  before 
Cyrus,  he  was  asked  what  he  would  give  for  her 
ransom.  He  answered:  "I  will  give  myself,  my 
very  life."  Cyrus  was  so  deeply  impressed  by  this 
manifestation  of  true  and  unselfish  devotion,  that 
he  not  only  gave  her  back  to  her  husband  but  on 
their  departure,  enriched  them  with  most  precious 


gifts.  This  is  an  example  of  a  love  that  knows  no 
limit :  such  love  sacrifices  itself,  its  very  existence, 
for  the  one  beloved. 

How  insignificant  does  not  even  the  deepest 
human  love  appear  when  compared  with  God's  love 
for  man!  That  love  must  be  great  enough  to 
disarm  the  infinite  wrath  of  the  Eternal  Father 
bent  upon  the  destruction  of  sinful  men.  Behold  the 
Son  of  the  Most  High,  the  King  of  Kings,  steps 
between  the  uplifted  avenging  hand  of  God  the 
Father  and  rebellious  man.  The  Eternal  Father 
demands  justice,  the  Eternal  Son  pleads  for  mercy, 
offering  Himself,  His  very  life,  as  the  price  of 
Eternal  Justice.  The  Eternal  Father  accepts  the  offer. 
When  in  the  fulness  of  time  the  Son  of  God  dies 
on  the  gibbet  of  the  Cross  we  have  a  proof  of  a 
love  that  is  stronger  than  death.  "Greater  love 
than  this  no  man  hath,  than  that  a  man  lay  down 
his  life  for  his  friend." 


What  Will  the  Sterling  -Towner  Bill  do  for  Education? 


John  McGuinness 


V^HAT  will  the  Sterling-Towner  Bill  do  for 
j  ■  J  education?  What  effect  will  Federaliza- 
\M/  tion  have  on  the  schools?  These  and 
similar  questions  we  hear  asked  in  many 
quarters. 

The  Sterling-Towner  Bill  will  not  improve  our 
educational  system.  Federalization  will  destroy  it. 
We  can  picture  Sterling-Townerites  throwing  up 
their  hands  in  horror  at  these  words.  But  let  me 
repeat  them  so  that  every  reader  may  get  their  full 
import.  The  Sterling-Towner  Bill  will  not  improve 
our  educational  system.  Federalization  will  destroy 
it. 

It  has  been  pointed 
out  by  eminent  students 
of  government,  that  one  of 
the  defects  in  our  form  of 
government  is  that  the 
frequent  changes  in  poli- 
tics give  rise  to  the  spoils 
system.  Patronage  is  the 
compensatory  rewarder  of 
the  party  workers.  So  we 
always  find  the  "outs" 
fighting  to  overthrow  the 
"ins"  that  they  may  capt- 
ure the  spoils.    Right  here 

lies  the  great  danger  to  the  schools — politics.  Those 
who  have  been  connected  with  Boards  of  Education 
know  how  detrimental  politics  are  to  education  and 
that  there  is  nothing  which  disrupts  a  school  system 
so  quickly.  Every  community  has  to  contend  with 
politics,  and  few,  if  any,  are  ever  entirely  successful 
in  keeping  them  out  of  the  schools. 

The  Sterling-Towner  Bill  opens  wide  the 
avenue  for  politics  to  enter  the  school  system  on  a 
scale  never  dreamt  of  by  the  States  or  towns.  With 
every  change  in  national  politics,  which  can  happen 
every  four  years,  a  new  Secretary  of  Education  and 
sub-ordinates  will  be  appointed  from  the  party 
coming  into  power.  President  Harding,  immediately 
upon  assuming  office,  appointed  a  new  Commissioner 
of  Education. 

A  Federal  Department  of  Education,  because 
of  the  very  nature  of  its  work  and  effect  upon  the 
people,  will  be  a  far  bigger  issue  in  the  national 
election  than  the  other  Federal  Departments  have 


/CONGRESS  must  be  made  to  feel  that 
v_>  the  country  does  not  want  what  the 
Sterling-Towner  bill  provides.  Here 
are  set  down  in  succinct  form  some  objec- 
tions to  the  bill  based  on  the  interests  you 
have  in  common  with  all  Americans.  As  to 
your  children's  interests — you  are  left  to 
infer  how  far-reaching  the  pernicious  in- 
fluence of  such  an  enactment  may  be  upon 
Christian  education. — The  Editors. 


been  heretofore.  One  party  will  stand  to  increase  the 
appropriation  for  education  and  to  extend  the  acti- 
vities of  the  Department.  This  would  tax  the  people 
heavily.  High  taxation  always  meets  with  opposi- 
tion and  invariably  defeats  the  party  responsible 
for  it.  Of  course,  the  party  seeking  to  get  in  power 
would  stand  for  the  opposite,  a  reduced  appropria- 
tion, curtailment  of  the  Department's  activities  and 
a  corresponding  reduction  in  taxes.  As  first  one  and 
then  the  other  of  the  two  large  parties  will  be 
entrusted  with  power,  it  is  obvious  that  the  baro- 
meter of  education  is  sure  to  go  up  and  down. 

Congressional  elections  come  every  two  years. 
It  is  not  unusual  for  the 
party  which  carried  the 
national  election  to  lose 
control  of  at  least  one 
branch  of  the  Congress 
in  the  Congressional  elec- 
tion following.  In  fact, 
this  very  frequently  hap- 
pens. Politics  then  come 
into  play.  If  the  victori- 
ous party  found  it  to  their 
political  advantage  to  cut 
an  educational  appropria- 
tion bill  to  the  bone  or 
kill  it  entirely,  this  would  be  done. 

aNDER  a  Federal  system  of  education  there 
can  be  no  assurance  beyond  two  years  as  to 
plans  and  scope  of  education.  The  advocates 
of  the  Sterling-Towner  Bill  are  notoriously  silent  on 
this.  They  well  know  that  a  Federal  Department 
of  Education,  because  of  political  changes,  can  not 
function  differently  from  any  other  Federal  Depart- 
ment. Bear  in  mind  this  fact,  and  never  for  a 
moment  lose  sight  of  it,  that  what  one  Congress  does 
another  Congress  can  undo. 

If  future  Congresses  should  prove  as  impotent 
as  the  last  few,  any  small  group  of  organized 
fanatics  could  shape  the  educational  standards  of 
the  country.  And  the  great  danger  is  that  the  strong- 
hold of  these  fanatics  lies  in  the  non-industrial  parts 
of  the  country.  Working  together  they  can  control 
Congress  and  fix  the  educational  standard  and  mould 
the  minds  of  the  youth  of  the  nation. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


Subject  education  to  the  bickerings  and  tradings 
and  manipulations  of  Congress,  and  you  open  wide 
the  way  whereby  not  only  the  high  educational 
standard  of  the  individual  nothern  States  can  be 
lowered,  but  that  of  the  whole  country. 

The  Sterling-Towner  Bill  will  politicalize  the 
schools.  Appointments  and  regulations  made  by  the 
Secretary  of  Education,  himself  a  political  ap- 
pointee, will  be  with  an  eye  to  political  expediency 
rather  than  as  a  benefit  to  education.  It  is  a  great 
many  moons  since  a  scheme  has  been  proposed 
which  opens  such  a  rich  harvest  for  the  politician, 
grafter  and  theorist.  As  a  beginning,  $100,000,000 
is  appropriated,  80%  of  which  will  go  for  adminis- 
tration and  salaries.  Every  state,  county  and  muni- 
cipality will  have  its  Federal  Supervisors,  appointed 
by  the  politicians  through  the  political  head  of  the 
Department,  to  see  that  the  Federal  rules  are 
complied  with. 

The  States,  not  to  be  outdone  by  the  Federal 
authorities,  will,  of  course,  have  their  horde  of 
supervisors  chosen  from  among  the  faithful  sup- 
porters of  the  party  in  power.  In  a  few  years  we 
might  even  have  more  supervisors  than  teachers. 
Indeed  there  may  be  times  when,  through  lack  of 
appropriations,  we  would  have  supervisors,  but  no 
teachers. 

EEDERALIZED  education  will  destroy  all 
civic  and  local  pride,  local  self-interest  we 
will  call  it,  something  which  every  community 
more  or  less  displays  in  its  schools.  The  Sterling- 
Towner  Bill  destroyes  all  initiative  on  the  part  of 
the  people  to  correct  or  improve  the  school  system 
because  it  takes  the  control  of  the  government  of 
the  schools  out  of  their  hands  and  gives  it  over  to  a 
bureaucratic  autocrat  in  Washington,  who  is  neither 
responsible  to  the  sovereignty  of  the  States  nor  to 
the  will  of  the  parents  therein.  The  further  govern- 
ment is  removed  from  the  people  the  less  it  responds 
to  their  views  and  the  opportunity  for  small  organized 
minorities  to  control  it  becomes  greater. 

Remember  this,  what  the  Federal  Government 
subsidizes  the  Federal  Government  controls.  Make 
no  mistake  about  that.  Education  under  Federal 
control  will  cause  dissatisfaction  among  the  people 
just  as  the  other  undertakings  of  the  government 
do.  What  one  section  of  the  country  will  approve 
another  will  disapprove,  but  the  States  will  be  ab- 
solutely powerless  to  enforce  their  views  as  the 
Federal   power   will    be    supreme.     The   effects    of 


contentions  and  bickerings  in  educational  matters 
often  experienced  by  States  and  municipalities, 
under  the  Sterlirg-Towner  Bill  will  be  extended  to 
the  whole  country  with  disastrous  results  to  educa- 
tion. 

OUR  Fathers  in  framing  the  Constitution, 
indeed,  planned  well  when  they  left  the 
control  of  education  with  the  States  and  the 
parents.  In  their  wisdom  the  Fathers  were  far- 
seeing,  very  much  more  so  than  the  Sterling- 
Townerites  of  today.  Well  versed  in  history  and 
the  system  of  governments,  the  framers  of  the  Con- 
stitution knew  the  great  danger  of  centralization 
of  power  and  paternalism  in  government.  They 
studied  its  result  in  Rome  and  Athens.  They  had 
seen  the  effects  of  too  much  governmental  control 
in  many  parts  of  modern  Europe.  An  oligarchical 
power,  controlling  the  educational  system  of  the 
country  and  shaping  the  opinion  of  its  youth,  was 
abhorent  to  the  Fathers.  They  wished  to  see 
maintained  in  educational  matters  the  same  spirit 
of  independence  and  self-dependency, — the  right 
to  shape  their  own  destinies — which  the  States  had 
so  successfully  contended  for  in  the  Constitutional 
Convention. 

That  they  did  not  err  is  evidenced  by  the 
splendid  type  of  men  produced  by  the  system  of 
education  maintained  in  the  States  prior  to  the  early 
forties  when  they  then  began  to  depart  from  the  old 
system  known  to  the  Fathers,  a  system  which  gave 
a  moral  training;  a  system  which  developed 
character;  a  system  which  created  the  spirit  of  self- 
sacrifice  and  service,  a  system  which  cultivated 
culture  and  produced  leadership. 

COMPETENT  critics  of  our  educational  system 
deplore  the  commercial  spirit  which  it  creates. 
The  "blight  of  commercialism"  permeates 
the  classroom.  The  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  and 
service  is  not  fostered.  The  distaste  for  hard  work 
and  the  effort  to  get  something  for  nothing  are 
prevalent  everywhere.  The  Sterling-Towner  Bill 
instead  of  correcting  this  spirit  fosters  it. 

Far-seeing  statesmen  are  sounding  a  warning 
against  the  spirit  of  commercialism  and  paternalism 
now  pervading  the  body  politic.  Vice  President 
Coolidge  in  a  recent  address  uttered  these  words 
of  wisdom : 

"Unless  Americans  shall  continue  to  live 
in    something   more    than   the    present,    to 


10 


THE  1*  SIGl 


be  moved  by  something  more  than  material 
gains,  they  will  not  be  able  to  respond  to 
the  requirements  of  great  sacrifices,  and 
they  will  go  down  as  other  people  have 
gone  down  before  some  nation  possessed 
of  a  greater  moral  force." 

No!  It  is  not  Federal  appropriations  we  want 
for  education,  nor  an  increase  in  the  now  too 
numerous  supervisory  officials  and  research  workers 
which  will  come  with  the  Sterling-Towner  Bill,  but 
a  return  to  old  fashioned  principles,  to  old  fashioned 
American  ideals  and  simplicity  which  fashioned 
strong-minded  men. 

Away  then  with  this  centralization  of  power 
and  paternalism  which  would  care  for  our  moral 
and  mental  requirements  by  placing  a  policeman 
and  a  school  teacher  in  the  home.  Away  with  this 
oligarch  whom  the  Sterling-Townerites  would  place 
over  education  and  who  would  Prussianize  the  minds 
of  our  youth.  Away,  I  say,  with  these  faddists  and 
theorists  whose  innovations  have  wrought  such 
havoc  with  our  school  system. 


If  America  is  to  endure  as  a  free  country  it 
will  not  be  through  the  theories  advanced  by  the 
Sterling-Townerites  or  their  large  appropriations 
for  education.  If  America  is  to  remain  the  America 
the  Fathers  founded  she  must  soon  return  to  the  old 
fashioned  curriculum  which  fostered  the  spirit  of 
self-dependency,  of  self-sacrifice,  of  service  —  a 
system  which  paid  attention  to  both  the  moral  and 
mental  development  of  the  child;  a  system  which 
developed  a  capacity  for  leadership;  a  system  which 
developed  men  of  sterling  character  and  indepen- 
dence; men  who  did  not  shirk  responsibility;  men 
whose  yard-stick  was  not  money;  men  who  did  not 
run  to  the  Federal  Government  for  legislation  to 
correct  every  ill  that  affected  society. 

Such  were  the  qualities  that  the  builders  of  the 
nation  possessed,  such  are  the  qualities  that  our 
schools  must  produce  in  future  Americans,  else,  as 
Vice  President  Coolidge  says:  "We  will  go  down 
as  other  people  have  gone  down  before  some  nation 
possessed  of  a  greater  moral  force." 


Little   Pitchers   Have   Big   Ears 


^^^•>HE  Church  presumes  that  at  the  age  of 
■  Cj  seven  the  child  distinguishes  between  good 
^^^^^  and  evil — its  conscience  begins  to  function. 
Accordingly  provision  is  made  at  that  age 
for  training  the  child  in  the  exercise  of  free-will. 
At  that  age  also  it  is  bound  by  all  the  regulations 
of  the  Church. 

All  who  have  opportunity  of  observing  the  child 
at  close  range  will  agree  that  the  Church  has  accu- 
rately timed  the  development  of  the  child  mind. 
Many  a  humorous  incident  proves  this. 

Tommy — "Ma,  you  said  that  I  shouldn't  eat 
that  piece  of  cake  in  the  pantry,  that  it  would  make 
me  sick." 

Mother — "Yes,  Tommy." 

Tommy — "But,  Ma,  it  didn't  make  me  sick." 

Philip  who  had  gone  on  an  outing  trip  with 
the  choir  boys  in  a  brand  new  suit,  returned  with 
the  entire  seat  of  his  trousers  gone.  His  mother 
greeted  him:  "Oh,  Philip,  you  didn't  walk  up  from 
the  rectory  with  your  trousers  like  that!"  The  lad 
answers:  "It's  alright,  Ma,  no  one  saw  me;  I 
walked  backwards." 

As  soon  as  children  begin  to  indicate  that  their 
reason  is  in  operation  parents  should  concern  them- 


selves with  the  motives  and  principles  upon  which 
they  would  have  their  children  act.  Not  only  this, 
but  parents  should  keep  a  sharp  eye  on  their  own 
behavior  in  the  presence  of  their  children. 

^^\ARENTS  have  no  keener  critics  nor  sharper 
i^/  judges  than  these  very  children.  To  children 
everything  is  real,  and  their  minds  are  in- 
tensely curious,  and  they  are  quick  to  draw  con- 
clusions. They  have  implicit  confidence  in  their 
parents  and  instinctively  look  to  them  for  informa- 
tion and  example.  New  words  are  picked  up  by 
minds  ever  on  the  alert  and  turned  over  and  over  in 
the  attempt  to  get  at  their  true  meaning.  Not  only 
do  these  children  sit  in  judgment  upon  their  parents 
when  the  parents  give  way  to  violent  outbursts  but 
also  upon  the  private  chats  of  their  elders,  and  they 
boldly  act  upon  what  they  have  overheard.  Great 
reverence  is  due  children,  as  the  pagan  proverb 
says.  Parents,  take  no  chances  with  your  children: 
never  forget  their  listening  ears  and  guileless  souls. 
Do  not  shock  the  tender  conscience  of  one  in  whom 
God  has  implanted  a  natural  esteem  for  you. 
"And  all  the  better  life  that  I  would  lead, 
Writ  small  in  this,  one  childish  face,  I  read." 


Oder  the   Hills  by   Auto   Stage 


Mary  Hai 


& 


EADSBORO,  Vermont?" 

"You  can  go  by  train  if  you  want  to, 
but  the  best  way  is  to  go  by  the  auto- 
stage.    The  scenery  is  wonderful  all  along 
the  line." 

So  of  course  we  go  by  the  stage. 

Whether  the  one  thing  or  the  other  should  be 
done,  we  are  in  the  same  necessity  of  arising  before 
the  daylight  and  driving  down  to  the  town  three 
miles  away  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  to  make 
connections  for  the  next  lap  of  the  journey.  This, 
too,  however  is  a  part  of  the  joys  of  the  road. 
There  is  something  eerie  and  mysterious  about 
stealing  from  a  dusky  room  to  look  out  upon  a 
world  that  is  not  yet  fully  awake  and  which  seems 
to  be  still  dreaming  its  own  dreams. 

You  come  softly  down  the  old  wooden  stairs, 
into  the  shadowy  kitchen,  and  already  the  house 
mother  is  busy  there  in  the  twilight.  Unconsciously 
you  think  back  upon  the  line  of  the  poet  describing 
the  woman  of  long  ago  who  "rekindles  in  the  gray 
dawn  the  fires  which  she  had  covered  overnight." 
You  take  a  look  from  the  window,  and  outside  the 
stable  barn  the  son  too  is  silently  active  "hitching 
up"  to  go  to  town,  but  the  hush  and  the  stillness 
are  as  holy  things  not  to  be  broken  lightly. 

Then  we  go  out  ourselves  and  see  how  the 
opalescent  day  is  beginning.  The  great  ampitheatre 
of  the  hills  is  against  a  sky  of  flushing  rose ;  the  dew 
lies  thick  upon  the  grass;  all  around  about  is  one 
immense  symphony  of  widening  hope,  and  promise 
and  joy.  As  we  drive  down  the  steep,  winding 
road,  only  the  sharp  hoof-rhythm  of  the  pony 
punctuates  the  earth's  solemn  matins  of  praise. 

The  auto-stage  leaves  from  the  hotel  door  at 
7  A.  M.  But  at  six  forty  the  hotel  lobby  is  still 
deserted:  a  drowsy  page,  a  window  washer,  the 
night  clerk  alone  represents  its  activities.  Two 
exceedingly  upright  ladies,  of  the  New  England 
spinster  type,  wait  in  stiff  expectancy  upon  the 
hall  settee  for  the  arrival  of  the  stage.  They,  as 
yet,  are  our  only  fellow  travellers;  but  as  the 
moments  flit,  other  travellers,  men  chiefly,  gather 
upon  the  sidewalk  outside  the  entrance,  farmers, 
commercial  agents,  and  two,  evidently  on  pleasure 
bent,  with  fishing  rods  and  baskets. 

Punctually  at  seven,  the  stage  appears;  a  for- 


midable vehicle,  roofed  over  and  painted  grey  like 
an  inland  battleship.  On  each  of  the  four  cross- 
seats  it  will  accommodate  four — sixteen  in  all;  not 
to  mention  two  seats  beside  the  driver  which  seem 
to  us  the  most  desirable.  With  extreme  politeness 
we  enquire  if  these  have  been  retained,  and,  as 
they  have  not,  we  immediately  proceed  to  swing  up 
our  suit-cases  and  take  possession  of  them  ourselves. 
This  brings  us  into  personal  relation  with  Robbie. 
Robbie  is  the  stage  driver,  and  no  sooner  do  you 
come  in  contact  with  him  than  you  recognize  a 
personality. 

Perhaps  it  would  be  hard  to  define  just  what  a 
personality  is,  especially  in  the  case  of  a  rather  quiet 
person,  like  Robbie,  but  he  is  known  thoughout  the 
length  and  breath  of  his  section  of  the  country. 
To  look  at  him,  you  would  say  he  was  a  college 
student,  a  slender  youth,  slightly  stoop-shouldered, 
with  a  smooth  face  and  large  eye-glasses.  But  he 
pleads  guilty  to  twenty-six  years  of  age  and  nine 
years  of  driving.  What  is  notable  about  his  expres- 
sion is  the  glance  of  his  clear  light-green  eyes,  he 
is  always  looking  for  something  to  do  for  the 
passer gers,  besides  merely  driving  them  to  their 
destination;  he  is  interested,  he  wishes  to  render 
service.  And  this  air  of  attention  is  modified  by  his 
smile:  a  wide  smile,  and  shrewd  at  the  same  time. 
He  gets  a  lot  of  amusement  out  of  the  people  to 
whom  he   is  always  generously  doing  good  turns. 

While  the  passengers  are  embarking,  Robbie 
supervises  the  operation  and  renders  assistance. — 
"Are  you  all  right,  sir?...  Your  satchel,  I  think. 
There's  more  room  in  front,  ma'am,  if  you  don't 
mind  changing.  Come  on  up  here,  little  girl;  now 
that's  better".  .  .  and  so  forth  until  they  are  all 
settled.  Then  he  mounts  his  box  and  away  we  go. 
It  is  only  a  morning's  ride  from  a  point  in  Mas- 
sachusetts to  another  given  point  in  Vermont,  but 
the  road  winds  by  hill  and  dale,  through  the  most 
superb  country,  with  scenery  that  holds  you  spell- 
bound, mile  after  mile,  and  you  receive  as  many 
and  as  varied  impressions  of  travel  as  if  you  were 
under  way  for  a  week. 

*■ — |"UST  before   we  leave  the   town,  toward  the 

ff    Y-  outskirts,  the  car  comes  to  a  halt  and  Robbie 

drops  lightly  from  his  perch.     Very  quickly 


THE  1*  SIGN 


he  lifts  a  large  sack,  dripping  water  and  saw-dust 
and  throws  it  into  the  back  of  the  stage;  then  on 
again  at  high  speed.  Our  curiosity  is  aroused. 
Robbie's  slow  smile  makes  answer.  "It's  for  some 
of  them  folks  summering  at  Locust  Farms.  They 
don't  get  no  ice  out  there,  so  I  carry  it  for  them 
three  times  a  week."  Imagine  the  value  in  a  com- 
munity of  a  stage  driver  who  will  render  such 
services  as  this!  On  the  mountain  it  had  been 
impossible,  even  in  extreme  cases,  to  get  ice  for 
either  love  or  money. 

We  have  been  running  smoothly  for  a  couple 
of  miles  when  we  come  to  a  little  house,  buried  in 
its  own  luxuriant  garden,  at  the  gate  of  which  a  lady 
stands,  evidently  waiting,  and  making  a  signal-flag 
out  of  her  parasol.  The  stage  stops  exactly  in  front 
of  her.  — "Mornin  'Mis'  Lowther"  .  .  .  but  this  time 
the  driver  sticks  to  his  wheel,  only  observing  over 
his  shoulder  until  the  new  passenger  is  settled.  She 
immediately  finds  an  acquaintance,  to  whom  she 
conveys,  (as  well  as  to  the  gallery  at  large),  that 
she  is  going  "Up  to  Grandma  Williams  to  visit." 
A  necessary  explanation,  perhaps,  in  a  farming 
country,  where  a  silk  dress  and  bronze  slippers  at 
seven  thirty  A.  M.  might  excite  suspicion! 


© 


EFORE  us  now  the  road  lies  open  and  inviting, 
between  green  fields  and  acres  of  cultivated 
land,  with  the  hills  bounding  the  horizon  on 
one  side,  and  on  the  other  neat  farm-buildings  or 
country  houses  painted  white,  with  green  shutters, 
standing  in  the  midst  of  old-fashioned  gardens. 
Robbie  evidently  feels  that  the  time  is  propitious  for 
an  increase  of  speed,  for  he  sits  gathered  up  over  his 
steering-gear  and  the  car  flies,  there  is  no  other  word 
for  it,  so  that  the  very  landscape  is  blurred  before 
our  eyes. 

In  the  body  of  the  vehicle  is  a  pleasant  murmur 
of  conversation,  somewhat  drowned  by  the  whirr  of 
the  machine,  but  many  of  the  passengers  are  known 
to  one  another,  and  all  meet  and  exchange  remarks 
in  a  happy,  easy  spirit,  bred  no  doubt  by  the  com- 
mon interest  in  travel  and  the  joy  of  the  cool,  lovely 
morning.  By  scraps  we  gather  that  famous  story, 
repeated  once  more  by  the  wag  of  the  occasion,  of 
that  house  which  is  half  in  Massachusetts  and  half 
in  Vermont,  so  that  the  children  born  in  it  are  never 
quite  sure  which  is  their  native  state. — "And  every 
time  it  comes  to  voting  at  elections,  there's  a  shindy 
in  the  house!"  It  was  pointed  out  to  us,  a  long 
building  of  red  brick,  with  modern  additions  that  are 


stuccoed,  as  though  the  residents  had  decided  to 
whitewash  the  portion  that  is  Vermont! 

A  little  after  eight  o'clock,  we  come  to  the  first 
village,  clusters  of  dwellings  shaded  by  fine  elm- 
trees  and  boasting  one  store  where  jam-pots,  whips, 
and  canned  vegetables  meet  amicably  in  the  window, 
and  a  sign  proclaims  that  this  is  the  Post  Office 
of  Willamote.  A  man  in  shirt  sleeves,  pipe  in 
mouth,  is  waiting  upon  the  steps. — "Say,  Robbie, 
was  you  going  to  take  a  parcel  for  me  over  to  my 
sister's  in  Jerryville?"  Robbie's  good-natured  grin 
responds:  "Sure  I  was."  "I  could  send  it  by  mail 
but  it  would  take  five  days  and  it's  something  she 
needs  right  away." — "That's  all  right,  Mr.  Pomfret." 
A  voice  in  the  back  of  the  stage  sings  out.  "And 
him  the  postmaster  of  Willamote!" 

But  this  cannot  shake  Mr.  Pomfret's  be-slip- 
pered,  coatless,  pipe-in-mouth  dignity.  He  goes  back 
into  the  store  for  the  parcel  and  as  Robbie  bends  to 
start  the  machine  again,  lifts  a  detaining  hand — 
"Hold  on  now,  boy,  hold  on!  There's  a  man  inside 
getting  ready  to  go  with  you!" — "Tell  him  to  hurry, 
please;  I'm  late  now."  The  car  keeps  chug-chugging 
impatiently,  the  passengers  are  getting  restless, 
and  still  no  traveller  apears.  "Ho,  Mr.  Pomfret," 
calls  one,  "bring  out  your  man,  we  can't  wait  here 
all  day."  "Some  of  us  is  going  fishing,"  this 
brings  laughter.  "Ay,  and  the  missus  needs  the 
catch  before  the  Friday  of  next  week." 

A  travelling  salesman,  bag  in  hand  dashes 
forth  at  last,  and  jumps  upon  the  running  board. 
"All  right,  Cap,  let  her  go".  .  .  but  as  we  start  a 
woman  comes  running  from  the  house.  "Mr.  Joe, 
Mr.  Joe,  your  umbrella"  ...  It  is  too  late.  Robbie 
does  not  hear  and  we  are  tearing  along  the  high 
road  in  the  effort  to  retrieve  lost  time.  It  is  as  if 
the  car  were  lifted  by  some  unseen  power  and  not 
touching  the  ground  in  the  swift  and  powerful 
momentum  of  its  advance.  Speed  laws  must  be 
suffering,  but  the  sensation  of  being  almost  on  the 
wing  is  delightful. 


Q 


'ND  now,  gradually,  there  is  a  change  in  the 
scenery.  The  highway  grows  more  narrow, 
plunging  between  banks,  or  skirting  groves 
of  evergreens;  the  whole  country  looks  broken  and 
hilly,  only  patches  of  ground  here  and  there  are 
planted,  and  magnificent  trees,  the  sentinels  of 
mountain  areas:  fir,  pine,  spruce  and  hemlock, 
tower  singly  or  in  groups.  As  we  pass,  the  incense- 
like sweetness  of  balsam-firs  is  wafted  to  us.     The 


THE  1*  SIGN 


character  of  the  places  of  habitation  changes  too; 
no  more  trim  farms,  no  more  white  country  houses, 
but  shanties  of  unpainted  wood,  and  pathetic, 
weather-stained  shacks,  drooping  forlornly  to  the 
side  upon  which  they  settle.  Yet  there  is  something 
wild  and  inspiring  about  the  view  that  stirs  and 
charms  you. 

From  just  such  a  rude  cabin  as  these  Lincoln 
once  stepped,  and  what  great  peace  and  silence 
must  be  in  them,  beneath  the  pines!  From  their 
high  places — they  always  seem  to  be  set  high — 
what  vast  horizons  they  must  command!  For  us, 
guessing  at  the  stories  they  represent,  we  fly  past 
them  and  are  nothing  to  them.  The  breeze  of 
incipient  autumn  is  in  our  faces,  and  the  gold  of  the 
perfect  day  shines  upon 
scenes  that  are  so  fair 
already. 

Presently  we  come 
once  more  to  an  oasis  of 
culture,  stock-breading 
and  summer  visitors. 
"Locust  Farms,"  is  an- 
swered to  our  enquiries, 
and  Robbie  hops  lightly 
down,  digs  out  his  sack 
of  ice  and  drops  it  upon 
the  grass  below  the 
porch,  then  quickly  re- 
sumes his  seat.  The 
shutters  are  still  closed, 
and  bottles  of  milk  stand 
full  beside  the  entrance. 
Tn  the  silence  of  the 
pause,  an  elderly  fem- 
inine voice  is  lifted 
dolorously  behind  us. 
"Well,  now,  did  you 
ever!  Half  past  eight 
and  sleeping!  Some 
folks  is  so  lazy  that  if". . 
in  the  long  groan  of  the  starting  engine. 
Bang!    And  we  are  off. 

For  a  little  while  we  are  in  the  farming  region 
again,  the  road  smooth  and  the  land  undulous  with- 
out sharp  accidents.  Quiet,  laborious  forms  of  men 
and  women  are  bending  over  their  several  tasks  in 
the  fields.  We  flash  past  a  group  of  young  men 
working  upon  the  telegraph  wires,  and  note  how  the 
stalwart,  sun-bronzed  figures  still  wear  army 
breeches    and    leggins,    and    one    strongly-moulded 


face,  superb  as  sculpture  under  the  army  hat,  turns 
to  gaze  as  we  pass.  Shouts  of  greeting  are  exchang- 
ed, and  one  of  us  at  least  thanks  heaven  that  these 
lads  should  be  back  at  their  peaceful  occupations 
in  the  good  New  England  back-country,  far  from 
the  devastations  of  war. 


o 


The    Rainbow 

Placidus  M. 

Endler 

The  summer  wind  through  Nazareth — 

O  it  was  sip! — 

Paused  for  a  moment 

as  it  passed 

A  Baby-  by"; 

And  from  the  ruddy1 

ruby*  bow — 

It  did  espy — 

Of  Babe's  lips  where 

sorted  sweets 

In  rows  did  lie, 

Most  stealthily  it  stole 

a  kiss. 

Then  up  on  higl 

t 

It  hung  this  candy -colored  kiss, 

Still  wet,  to  dry4. 

the  rest  of  it  is  drowned 
Whirr! 


perceive  an  aged  man  standing  in  the  road 
and  holding  up  his  hand.  Robbie  seems 
accustomed  to  signs  and  watches  for  them.  We 
draw  up,  and  two  young  ladies,  evidently  summer 
boarders,  are  taking  leave  of  a  kindly  white  haired 
woman  of  many  years.  "Good-bye,  good-bye,  we 
have  had  a  lovely  time  and  will  surely  come  again." 
Innumerable  boxes,  bags, 
flowers  and  apples  are 
stowed  all  over  the  car, 
more  farewells  spoken 
and  we  drive  on,  leaving 
those  two  ancient  people 
standing  in  the  sun. 
They  seem,  somehow 
struck  and  desolate,  with 
their  old,  old  heads,  their 
withered  hands,  their 
stooping  forms.  And 
the  old  man,  under  his 
thick  white  hair  is  mak- 
ing a  brave  attempt  to 
smile,  with  some  pain,  as 
of  a  sorrow  of  long  ago, 
piercing  the  cheerful- 
ness. Have  they  no 
children  of  their  own? 
Where  are  their  chil- 
dren? The  girls  are 
talking  of  railroad  tickets 
and  trains  to  town,  the 
stage  leaps  forward  on 
its  way  to  Vermont,  but  those  two  pitiful  figures 
at  the  gate,  in  the  sunshine,  so  old,  so  feeble,  hurt 
the  memory  like  remorse. 

We  stop  in  the  centre  of  the  village,  before 
the  rustic  hotel,  and  here  a  good  number  of  passen- 
gers alight.  It  is  a  local  nucleus  of  some  importance. 
While  his  passengers  collect  their  baggage,  Robbie 
from  the  box  superintends  their  operations  and  does 
not  observe  a  small  barefoot  boy  who  comes  and 
stands  at  the  curb  waving  a  letter  silently  above 
his  head.     At  last  the  wag  takes  notice.     "Hey, 


THE  +  SIGN 


Robbie,  somebody's  sendin'  you  a  love-letter!" — 
"Ah,  shaw,  it's  only  an  order  for  the  grocer." — "He 
wants  a  pound  of  maccaroni  for  his  girl."  The 
boy  continues  imperturably  to  wave  his  missive  as 
high  above  his  tousled  head  as  his  little  brown  hand 
will  let  him  reach.  A  woman's  imperious  voice 
recalls  the  long-suffering  chauffeur  to  his  duty. 
"Robbie,  Robbie!  Will  you  turn  round!  Here's 
a  child  trying  five  minutes  to  deliver  a  letter  to  you." 
Robbie  turns  with  philosophical  calmness.  "Hello, 
George!  Does  mother  want  me  to  take  that  for 
her?"  The  head  nods  a  little,  but  the  lips  are  closed. 
The  soiled  envelope  passes  into  Robbie's  deep 
pocket,  and  away  we  go  again. 

Now,  there  seems  to  be  a  change  of  temperature, 
falling  to  cooler.  Perhaps  it  is  only  imaginary,  or 
perhaps  in  reality  as  we  are  almost  continually 
running  through  the  deep  shade  of  thickets,  the 
atmosphere  registers  the  change.  To  our  left, 
between  gaps  in  the  branches  we  detect  a  white 
flashing  and  gleaming  of  foam;  at  one  point,  break- 
ing through  foliage  and  underbrush,  are  two  lads 
with  clean  eager,  roseate  faces,  lifted  smilingly 
as  the  stage  passes;  their  outing  shirts  and  long 
rubber  wading  boots  show  clearly  in  what  sport  they 
are  engaged. 

Almost  immediately  after  this,  we  come  to  the 
most  spectacular  portion  of  the  trip.  The  road,  of 
an  earthy  tan  color,  becomes  quite  narrow  and  begins 
to  take  short,  irregular  turns  which  wind  in  serpen- 
tine fashion.  The  stage  is  obliged  to  lower  speed, 
and  fast — faster  than  we  go — the  trout-stream  which 
has  become  a  torrent,  tears  along  beside  us  at  the 
edge  of  the  road.  It  is  a  magnificent  sight:  here 
it  dashes  impetuously  forward  picking  its  way 
between  massy  rocks,  there  the  rocks  stand  strewn 
in  opposition,  and  the  headlong  waters  hurl  onward 
over  them,  in  waves,  in  snowy  fringes,  in  eddies, 
and  on  again  with  unimpeded  rush.  In  recesses,  the 
deep  green  pools  that  the  current  does  not  seem  to 
touch,  are  formed;  and  everywhere  the  long  ferns 
leaning  over,  the  jewel-weed  and  nameless,  beauti- 
ful, frail  sprays  of  foliage,  are  sprinkled  and  hang 
trembling  over  the  brawling,  roaring  thunder  of  the 
water-course.  Now  a  bit  of  forest  cuts  us  off  from 
the  stream,  and  we  are  again  in  deep  shadow,  with 
high  earth  banks  on  either  side  of  us,  dark,  cool 
places  full  of  the  scent  of  loam  and  of  moss  and 
fungi,  as  in  the  sequestered,  rich  spots  that  human 
foot  scarce  ever  treads. 

The  company  has  grown  silent,  and  the  fact  is 


certainly  psychological.  We  are  in  no  danger,  but 
nature  here  is  primeval,  untouched,  almost  awesome 
in  its  splendor.  We  emerge  once  more  into  the  sun- 
light, and  the  stream  now  acts  like  a  sportive  child : 
it  runs  deliberately  across  our  track,  forms  a  deep 
loop,  and  on  again,  racing  as  before,  but  this  time 
at  our  right  hand.  The  stage  slowly  makes  the 
awkward  turn,  crosses  the  short  bridge  where  for  a 
moment  we  are  above  the  battling,  pelting,  boulder- 
strewn  water  on  both  sides  of  us,  and  runs  on  again, 
smoothly,  by  a  better  road.  There  had  been 
moments  when  we  prayed  that  no  other  vehicle 
should  be  coming  from  the  opposite  direction. 

^#^\OBBIE  looks  at  his  watch,  for  he  prides  him- 
l^f  self  upon  punctuality,  whatever  may  be  the 
delays  and  accidental  stops  of  the  way. 
Toward  ten  o'clock  we  enter  on  the  main  village 
street  with  its  clean  little  houses,  and  flowers  in  the 
window  boxes;  happy  women  look  out  from  neat, 
old-fashioned  doorways,  and  rosy  children  come 
running  to  greet  friends  among  the  travellers.  We 
catch  a  glimpse  in  passing  of  the  unusual  pictures- 
queness  of  the  situation.  Hills  are  all  about  us, 
and  the  white  cottages  climb  and  lodge  themselves 
in  all  the  nooks,  so  that  every  green  space  is  studded 
with  them. 

The  town  is  parted  by  the  broad,  stony  bed  of 
a  river,  with  water  that  only  threads  it  in  summer, 
but  a  long,  oscillating  iron  bridge  unites  the  two 
sections.  Just  below  the  bridge,  the  torrent — which 
has  followed  us —  hurls  itself  impetuously  into  the 
shallow,  slow  course  of  the  river  and  together  they 
pour  away  through  the  lower  portion  of  the  village, 
past  gardens  and  mills,  and  especially  past  the  little 
church  on  the  slope  with  its  slender  spire  and  the 
gold  Cross  uplifted  to  the  West. 

Robbie  comes  to  a  halt  before  the  principal 
store  of  the  town;  and  now  he  alights  briskly  and 
his  wide,  good-natured  smile  rejoices  with  the  tra- 
vellers that  he  has  been  able  to  bring  them  safely 
to  their  destination.  He  renders  assistance  generous- 
ly with  suitcases,  bags  and  baskets.  More  than  one 
passenger  pauses  to  shake  hands  with  him,  showing 
the  peculiarly  ^personal  relationship  that  has  been 
established  between  them  and  calls  as  they  part. 
"I'm  going  back  with  you,  Robbie,  when  I  go!" 
This  is  our  own  word  to  the  lad.  And  he  answers 
back  pleasantly:  "Glad  to  have  you!  Just  let  me 
know  anytime.  Mondays,  Wednesdays  and  Satur- 
days, until  the  snow  shuts  us  off." 


Wkat  Do  You   Know   About: 

Tke  Church's  Attitude  Towards  Divorce? 


XT  can  hardly  be  denied  that  the  closest  of  all 
unions  is  to  be  found  in  the  holy  bond  of 
matrimony.  For  the  sake  of  entering  into 
such  a  union,  men  and  women  will  break  every  other 
tie,  no  matter  how  close  or  how  sacred,  even  the 
tie  that  binds  the  child  to  the  parent.  The  union  of 
husband  and  wife  is  the  closest  and  most  unifying 
that  it  is  possible  to  conceive,  for  they  become  two 
in  one  flesh.  Nay,  more;  as  our  Blessed  Lord  said, 
they  are  "no  longer  two  but  one  flesh." 

The  inclination  to  enter  such  a  union  is  deeply 
seated  in  human  nature  since  it  was  placed  there  in 
the  beginning  by  the  Creator,  and  in  spite  of  the 
difficulties  and  hardships  attendant  on  married 
life,  the  impulse  to  enter  that  state  persists.  Divorce 
is,  then,  by  its  nature  opposed  to  the  well-being  of 
the  individual  and  of  society,  it  did  not  enter  into 
the  designs  of  God,  it  was  condemned  by  Our  Lord 
and  has  found  no  place  among  the  nations  that  have 
the  true  Christian  Faith. 

When  holy  matrimony  was  blessed  by  God 
in  the  earthly  paradise  of  Eden  He  stamped  upon  it 
the  character  of  indissolubility  and  willed  it  to  be  a 
life-long  union  between  one  man  and  one  woman. 

When  our  Divine  Savior  restored  marriage  to 
its  original  purity,  He  gave  it  a  new  creation  of 
grace,  by  elevating  it  to  the  dignity  of  a  Sacrament 
of  the  Catholic  Church  and  stamped  upon  it  the 
character  of  indissolubility  making  Christian  marri- 
age a  sign  and  symbol  of  the  union  which  exists 
between  Himself  and  His  spotless  Spouse,  the 
Church. 

1.  We  should  distinguish  two  kinds  of  sepa- 
ration between  husband  and  wife. 

A.  Absolute  divorce  which  implies  the  dis- 
solution of  the  marriage  Bond  carrying  with  it  the 
right  to  contract  a  new  marriage. 

B.  A  mere  separation  of  the  parties,  implying 
a  permission  to  live  apart  from  each  other,  but 
leaving  the  marriage  bond  intact,  and  giving  no 
permission  to  contract  a  new  marriage. 

2.  Absolute  divorce  is  forbidden  by  the  law 
of  God  in  the  case  of  a  Christian  marriage,  at  least 
after  its  consummation.  Such  a  marriage  can  not 
be  dissolved  by  any  power  on  earth.  Neither 
Church  nor  State  has  the  power  to  break  the 
marriage  Bond. 


3.  This  is  the  law  of  God.  Our  Lord  said: 
"Therefore  now  they  are  not  two  but  one  flesh. 
What  GOD  HATH  JOINED  TOGETHER  LET 
NO  MAN  PUT  ASUNDER."  Math.  19,  6.  "Who- 
soever shall  put  away  his  wife  and  marry  another, 
committeth  adultery  against  her.  And  if  the  wife 
shall  put  away  her  husband,  and  be  married  to 
another,  she  committeth  adultery."  Luke  16/18. 
"Everyone  that  putteth  away  his  wife  and  marrieth 
another,  committeth  adultery  and  he  that  marrieth 
her  that  is  put  away  committeth  adultery."  Mark 
X.  11,  12. 

4.  This  is  the  teaching  of  the  Apostles.  St. 
Paul  said — "A  woman  is  bound  by  the  law  as  long 
as  her  husband  liveth;  but  if  her  husband  die  she  is 
at  liberty;  let  her  marry  whom  she  will."  1  Cor.  VII. 
"For  the  woman  that  hath  a  husband,  whilst  her 
husband  liveth  is  bound  to  the  law.  But  if  her 
husband  is  dead,  she  is  loosed  from  the  law  of 
her  husband.  Therefore  whilst  her  husband  liveth, 
she  shall  be  called  an  adulteress,  if  she  be  with 
another  man;  but  if  her  husband  be  dead,  she  is 
delivered  from  the  law  of  her  husband,  so  that  she 
is  not  an  adulteress  if  she  be  with  another  man." 
Rom.    VII.  2,  3. 

5.  This  was  the  law  of  the  whole  Christian 
world  for  fifteen  centuries,  and  it  is  still  in  force 
throughout  the  Catholic  Church  and  is  sanctioned 
by  nations  and  states  of  the  old  and  the  new  world. 

6.  Christ  abrogated  the  Jewish  law  of  divorce, 
and  thereby  prohibited  its  use  among  Christians. 
The  Pharisees  asked  our  Lord  "Why  then  did  Moses 
command  to  give  a  bill  of  divorce  and  to  put  away? 
He  saith  to  them;  Moses,  because  of  the  hardness 
of  your  hearts,  permitted  you  to  put  away  your 
wives  BUT  FROM  THE  BEGINNING  IT  WAS 
NOT  SO.  And  I  say  unto  you,  whosoever  shall  put 
away  his  wife  except  it  be  for  fornication,  and 
shall  marry  another,  committeth  adultery,  and  he 
that  shall  marry  her  that  is  put  away,  committeth 
adultery."     Matthew  19. 

7.  The  principal  causes  for  permitting  a 
"separation  from  bed  and  board"  are  (a)  Adultery 
(b)  Danger  to  one's  salvation  (c)  Cruelty  (d)  Lapse 
of  one  party  into  infidelity.  From  this  it  is  seen  that 
the  Church  is  not  tyrannical,  for  while  she  can  not 


THE  t  SIGN 


break  the  bond  of  marriage,  she  does  allow  married 
persons  to  live  apart  for  grave  reasons. 

8.  They  sin  grievously  who  have  recourse  to 
the  civil  courts  to  obtain  an  absolute  divorce  when 
their  marriage  is  valid.  But  Catholics  may  apply 
to  the  secular  courts  for  a  merely  civil  divorce,  not 
as  though  they  recognized  any  power  on  the  part  of 
the  State  to  dissolve  a  marriage  validly  contracted  by 
them  but  merely  for  the  purpose  of  protecting  them- 
selves against  unjust  vexations  and  legal  penalties. 

9.  Any  Catholic  attempting  to  marry  again 
after  having  obtained  a  civil  divorce  falls  under  the 
censure  of  the  Church. 

10.  Divorce  is  contrary  not  only  to  the  law 
of  Christ  but  also  to  the  law  of  Nature.  This  is 
easily  seen  in  the  terrible  effects  that  flow  from 
divorce,  which  Leo  XIII  summaries;  "Truly  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  describe  how  great  are  the  evils 
that  flow  from  divorce.  Matrimonial  contracts  are 
by  it  made  variable,  mutual  kindness  is  weakened, 
deplorable  inducements  to  unfaithfulness  are  sup- 
plied, harm  is  done  to  the  education  and  training  of 
children,  occasion  is  afforded  for  the  breaking  up  of 
homes;  the  seeds  of  dissension  are  sown  among 
families,  the  dignity  of  woman  is  lessened  and 
brought  low,  and  women  run  the  risk  of  being 
deserted  after  having  ministered  to  the  pleasures  of 
men.  Since,  then,  nothing  has  such  power  to  lay 
waste  families  and  destroy  the  mainstay  of  kingdoms 
as  the  corruption  of  morals,  it  is  easily  seen  that 
divorces  are  in  the  highest  degree  hostile  to  the  pros- 
perity of  families  and  States,  springing  as  they  do 
from  the  depraved  morals  of  the  people,  and  as 
experience  shows  us,  opening  out  a  way  to  every 
kind  of  evil-doing  in  public  and  private  life.  .  .  So 
soon  as  the  road  to  divorce  began  to  be  made  smooth 
by  law,  at  once  quarrels,  jealousies,  and  judicial 
separations  largely  increased  and  such  shameless- 
ness  of  life  followed  that  men  who  had  previously 
been  in  favor  of  these  divorces  repented  of  what 
they  had  done,  and  feared  that,  if  they  did  not  seek  a 
remedy  by  repealing  the  law,  the  State  itself  might 
come  to  ruin." 

11.  All  this  has  been  verified  in  the  history 
of  the  world  since  the  time  of  the  Protestant  revolt 
against  the  authority  of  the  Vicar  of  Christ.  Divorce 
led  Henry  VIII,  King  of  England,  to  adultery, 
sacrilege,  the  plunder  of  his  realm  and  the  brutal 
murder  of  his  wives.  Divorce  has  brought  upon  our 
own  generation  the  curse  of  race-suicide,  thereby 
robbing  the  State  of  future  useful  citizens,  depriv- 


ing the  Church  of  many  saints  and  apostolic  souls, 
and  preventing  the  birth  of  countless  creatures  who 
should  have  been  born  "to  know,  love  and  serve  God 
in  this  life  and  be  happy  with  Him  in  the  never- 
ending  ages  of  eternity."  It  is  the  strict  duty  of 
Catholics  who  are  united  in  the  holy  bonds  of 
marriage,  and  who  are  face  to  face  with  difficulties 
in  the  home,  to  flee  from  all  thought  of  separation 
or  of  a  divorce  even  as  they  would  "flee  from  the 
face  of  a  serpeant." 

12.  Not  divorce  but  the  grace  of  God  and  a 
lively  faith  in  the  promises  of  the  Gospel  are  the 
means  to  bear  the  difficulties  of  domestic  life.  The 
home  may,  indeed,  be  for  some  a  veritable  Garden 
of  Agony,  with  a  Bleeding  Heart  and  a  Thorn 
crowned  head,  but  if  suffered  in  union  with  the 
Man  of  Sorrows  and  the  Queen  of  Martyrs,  it  will 
infallibly  lead  to  the  beatific  vision  of  God.  The 
Cross  may  be  found  in  the  home  but  it  leads  to  the 
Crown;  divorce  is  but  the  highroad  to  HELL. 


aNDER  date  of  September  8,  the  Topeka 
Capital  says :  That  divorce  courts  are  fill- 
ing the  state  reformatories  to  overflowing 
with  boys  whose  tendency  to  commit  crime 
is  directly  traceable  to  the  separation  of  their 
parents,  is  shown  conclusively  by  the  record  of  boys 
applying  for  paroles  at  the  next  session  of  the 
parole  board  to  be  held  Tuesday,  at  Hutchinson. 

Seventy-six  boys  have  applied  for  paroles. 
Records  following  the  case  of  each  boy  from  child- 
hood to  young  manhood  have  been  placed  before 
the  board. 

Thirty-three  of  the  fifty  boys  whose  records 
are  analyzed  have  no  home  in  which  their  own 
father  and  mother  together  can  help  the  boy  to 
better  manhood.  In  thirty-three  cases,  the  parents 
have  separated.  In  twenty-one  of  the  thirty-three 
cases,  the  separation  occurred  in  the  formative 
period  of  the  boy's  development  and  the  parents 
subsequently  married  again. 

In  eighteen  of  the  twenty-one  cases  in  which 
parents  separated  and  remarried,  one  or  both  parents 
later  divorced  and  married  again  and  again:  in  two 
cases  as  many  as  four  times. 

In  twelve  of  the  thirty-three  cases  where 
parents  separated  they  did  not  both  remarry ;  in  five 
neither  of  the  parents  later  married,  but  in  these 
cases  the  boys  were  shuffled  back  and  forth  from  the 
custody  of  one  parent  to  the  other  until  they  were 
bereft  of  any  home  influences  and  of  the  proper 
guidance  of  either  parent. 


Current  Fact   and   Comment 


WHERE   BIGOTRY  SPAWNS 


^T^E  can  all  take  comfort  in  the  fact  that  in  the 
\l/  Catholic  body  we  have  no  counterpart  of  the 
infamous  Tom  Watson,  fanatic,  hedger  and 
liar.  How  often  do  you  hear  of  Protestants  being 
forced  to  organize  and  protest  against  gross  mis- 
representation and  open  persecution  by  Catholics? 


Never!  Truth,  to  which  Tom  and  his  brood  are 
strangers,  begets  a  sence  of  security  and  contentment, 
and  a  consequent  willingness  to  let  the  other  fellow 
go  his  way.  The  bigot  with  a  bad  temper  can  never 
see  straight.  If  he  did  he  would  see  that  hatred  is 
a  poor  weapon  always  defeating  its  own  purpose. 


THE  TWENTIETH   AMENDMENT 


^^^HE  twentieth  amendment  to  the  Constitution 
L  J  is  on  the  way  and  should  meet  with  general 
approval.  It  empowers  the  President  to  veto 
separate  items  in  an  appropriation  bill.  Measures 
that  never  should  or  could  have  been  approved  on 
their  own  merits  have  shared,  as  riders,  the  approval 


of  commendable  and  necessary  measures.  We  can 
all  breathe  more  freely  when  we  are  assured  that  no 
legislation  prejudicial  to  our  lawful  interests  will 
have  a  chance  merely  because  it  puts  the  President 
in  the  embarassing  position  of  approving  all  items 
or  none. 


CAUSE   OF  THE 

*" — |"UST  as  soon  as  bonding  and  surety  companies 
ff  Y.  assumed  risks  against  losses  from  criminal 
causes  we  began  to  be  supplied  with  accurate 
data  regarding  the  cause  of  crime.  The  president 
of  the  largest  of  the  largest  of  these  companies  gives 
eleven  reasons  for  the  present  crime  wave.  Of  these 
he  ranks  disrespect  for  law  as  the  greatest.  Thous- 
ands who  formerly  unquestionally  obeyed  the  law 


CRIME  WAVE 

with  instinctive  loyalty  and  reverence  now  utterly 
contemn  all  law.  This  charge  has  been  largely 
brought  about  through  disgust  for  the  open  trickery 
which  has  been  used  to  put  over  and  enforce  the 
un-American  Volstead  Act.  Common-sense  men 
know  that  the  mutiplication  of  laws  is  dangerous 
and  the  making  of  odious  and  unnecessary  laws  is 
certain  to  engender  contempt  for  all  law. 


'SPIRIT  OF  HEALTH   OR  GOBLIN   DAMN'D!' 


^^<"WO  of  our  biggest  metropolitan  dailies  have 
L  J  been  featuring  an  expose  of  the  devious  ways 
and  stupid  antics  of  The  Invisible  Empire, 
popularly  known  as  the  Ku  Klux  Klan.  This  expose 
has  been  devoured  by  a  ravenous  public  with  more 
interest  and  amusement  than  the  Comic  Supplement. 
On  reading  it  we  are  lead  to  make  some  observa- 
tions. 

First:  The  Ku  Klux  Klan  (Imperial  Palace  and 
Home  Office,  Atlanta,  Georgia)  is  nothing  if  not 
American.  It  rests  solidly  on  the  great  American 
principle  of  a  square  deal  and  equal  rights  for  all. 
Wherefore,  it  very  locically  and  conscientiously  pro- 
ceeds to  persecute  every  Catholic,  Jew,  Black,  and 
Foreigner  in  these  United  States. 

Second:  With  this  noble  purpose  it  has  rapidly 
developed  from  a  handful  of  charter  members  to  an 
organization  verging  on  the  million.  Verily  "the 
number  of  fools  is  infinite." 

Third:  Its  financial  success  has  been  propor- 
tionate to  its  membership.     For  the  small  sum  of 


$16.80  the  members  are  allowed  to  buy  the  required 
outfit,  to  wit,  one  hooded  night-gown  of  purest 
"Georgette"  cotton.  "The  fool  and  his  money  are 
soon  parted." 

Fourth:  Implicit  faith  have  these  super- 
Americans  in  the  common  brotherhood  of  man. 
No  crested  head  must  appear  above  the  dead  line 
of  social  equality.  Hence  we  have  the  nicely  grad- 
uated scale  of  Imperial  Wizard,  Supreme  Kleagle, 
Grand  Goblin,  and  lesser  Goblins. 

Fifth:  Wizard,  Kleagle,  Goblins  stand  by 
"Open  covenants  openly  arrived  at."  Therefore 
they  lure  their  awe-struck  dupes  into  the  blackness 
of  the  night  and  then  with  hideous  rites  initate  them 
into  the  innermost  secrets  of — bigotry  and  fanatic- 
ism. 

Pity  the  poor  Catholic  Church!  She  has 
weathered  the  persecutions  of  nineteen  centuries, 
but,  alas,  her  day  has  come!  The  Invisible  Empire 
with  one  fell  swoop  will  efface  the  Kingdom  of  God ! 
The  Gates  of  Hell  are  now  to  triumph! 


THE  +  SIGN 


CATHOLIC   WOMEN   AND  THE   VOTE 


\^-/HE  question  of  women  suffrage  is  no  longer 
KJ'J  a  debatable  issue.  The  right  of  the  American 
woman  to  vote  has  been  written  into  the  Con- 
stitution and  is  now  the  Nineteenth  Amendment. 
Whatever  may  have  been  the  attitude  of  our  Catho- 
lic women  on  this  point  prior  to  their  enfranchise- 
ment, there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  their  duty  to-day 
at  the  ballot  box.  The  first  part  of  this  duty  is  to 
inform  themselves  about  measures  to  be  voted  upon, 
the  next  part  is  to  go  to  the  ballot  box,  and  the 
third  part  is  to  vote  for  the  right  measure. 

Many  of  our  Catholic  men  have  been  derelict 


in  their  civic  obligation  either  by  not  voting  at  all 
or  by  not  voting  conscientiously.  If  our  Catholic 
women  are  to  follow  the  example  of  these,  their  right 
to  vote  will  be  a  blow  to  the  interests  of  both 
Church  and  State.  We  can  be  assured  that,  as  a 
rule,  the  women  who  will  be  most  ready  to  insist 
upon  their  right  to  vote  will  be  the  very  ones  who 
are  least  worthy  to  vote.  We  need  the  consistent 
vote  of  good  women  to  off-set  the  strength  of  the 
others.  Our  Catholic  women  should  remember  that 
their  vote  is  not  intended  to  drag  religion  into 
politics  but  to  keep  irreligion  out. 


THE  NATION'S 
(TARTLING  figures  are  presented  in  the  effort 
to  reconcile  the  soldiers  to  the  withholding 
of  the  bonus.  The  Government  asks  that  it 
be  allowed  to  attend  first  to  the  rehabilitation  of 
the  disabled.  There  was  testimony  that  400  ex- 
service  men  had  committed  suicide  in  New  York 
State,  and  that  1725  had  applied  for  mental  treat- 
ment in  New  York  City  alone.  Admittedly  the 
Government  has  failed  to  provide  for  many  who 
are  entitled  to  relief  on  the  strongest  titles  of  justice 


DEBT   OF   HONOR 

and  gratitude.  Simultaneously  hospitals  in  Pennsyl- 
vania are  beginning  to  announce  that  charitable 
service  must  be  curtailed  in  the  face  of  deficits  due 
to  the  withdrawal  of  State  aid.  Surely  those  who 
on  a  sectarian  plea  clamored  for  that  withdrawal, 
never  came  in  contact  with  the  damage  done  by  war 
to  the  minds  and  bodies  of  men.  How  shameless 
and  heartless  the  bigotry  that  could  so  inopportunely 
insist  upon  what  must  notably  reduce  the  soldiers' 
chances  for  relief  and  healing! 


IRELAND'S   SOVEREIGNITY   PREPOSTEROUS? 


y^^HERE  is  immortal  literature  in  the  represen- 
V/J  tations  and  replies  of  President  De  Valera 
to  the  British  Premier.  Of  all  the  statesmen 
who  have  had  to  plea  for  a  people's  dearest  interest 
none  has  employed  greater  courage,  candor,  force 
and  logic.  There  is  no  suspicion  of  subtlety  or 
evasion  as  Ireland's  President  pleads  for  her  especi- 
ally as  a  free  and  sovereign  race  and  nation. 

It  must  be  admitted  that  a  great  many  fair- 
minded  people  look  upon  the  Irish  claim  for  inde- 
pendence as  preposterous.  They  congratulated 
other  races  when  these  were  relieved  of  the  rule 
and  oppression  of  the  Central  and  Eastern  powers. 
America  fought  for  an  ideal  and  here  it  was  realized. 
Little  was  known  of  the  complicated  political  ref- 
lations or  of  the  economic  and  historic  grounds  of 
the  claims  for  freedom,  there  was  only  applause 
when  the  Supreme  Council  severed  the  political  ties 
and  set  those  peoples  back  within  their  historic 
confines.  But  the  "fair-minded  people"  were  more 
conversant  with  Anglo-Hibernian  relations — at  least 
so  familiar  with  them  as  to  be  convinced  that  what 


might  be  called  ancient  prescription  should  not  be 
disturbed. 

Those  other  races  have  had  two  years  experi- 
ence of  independence.  In  few  cases  has  their  vision 
of  material  happiness  and  prosperity  been  realized. 
They  are  finding  it  exceedingly  difficult  to  adjust 
themselves  to  strictly  state  conditions.  There  is 
little  promise  of  relief.  Either  they  are  an  agricult- 
ural people  without  the  resources  of  industry  or  an 
industrial  people  without  the  necessary  resources  of 
agriculture.  It  is  a  hard  choice:  national  pride 
with  freedom  as  against  national  unity  with  ease  and 
comfort. 

All  this  brings  into  sharp  relief  the  distinctive 
reasonableness  of  Ireland's  claim  for  independence 
both  as  a  race  and  a  nation.  And  a  little  patient 
reflection  will  help  the  "fair-minded  people"  to  ap- 
preciate the  disappointment  of  Irishmen  over  what 
they  hold  to  be  the  utter  delinquency  of  the  Supreme 
Council. 

Ireland  is  ready  with  every  material  resource 
to  live  her  own  life  and  to  prosper. 


THE  +  SIGN 


DANTE— A   WITNESS  TO   LIGHT 


ON  September  14,  1321,  there  died  in  the  city  of 
Ravenna,  Italy,  Dante  Alighieri.  He  is  the 
greatest  amongst  the  religious  poets  and  one 
of  the  three  transcendent  poets  of  all  time.  He  is 
pre-eminently  a  Catholic  poet.  The  work  upon 
which  his  reputation  chiefly  rests — a  work  which  is, 
perhaps,  the  noblest  single  accomplishment  of 
Christian  Europe,  and  the  one  most  likely  destined 
to  outlive  all  others — is  concerned  with  an  elaborate, 
detailed  treatment  of  the  three  great  unchanging 
truths,  Heaven,  Hell  and  Purgatory. 

The  out-standing  feature  of  the  sixth  centenary 
of  his  death  is  the  absolute  unanimity  with  which 
the  educated  world,  Catholic,  Protestant  and  Un- 
believing, unite  in  acknowledging  the  sublime  genius 
of  this  immortal  embodiment  of  the  culture,  the 
aspiration  and  the  faith  of  the  Middle  Ages. 

Our  Holy  Father,  Pope  Benedict  XV  himself 
has  honored  the  work  and  memory  of  Dante  in  a 


manner  unparalleled  by  publishing  an  encyclical 
letter  to  the  Christian  world  in  which  he  pays  tribute 
to  the  living  influence  of  this  remarkable  exponent 
of  Catholicism.  The  Pope  insists  that  Dante  is  our 
own,  that  he  has  received  his  inspiration  from  the 
dogmas  of  the  Church,  and  is  the  conclusive  proof 
that  submission  to  the  teachings  of  the  Church  does 
not  clip  the  wings  of  genius. 

There  has  been  deliberately  foisted  on  the 
Protestant  public  the  unfounded  persuasion  that  the 
historical  period  known  as  the  Middle  Ages  was  a 
period  devoid  of  anything  like  intellectual  develop- 
ment, culture  and  refinement.  Thinking  persons 
should  know  that  the  century  which  produced  a 
Dante  could  not  be  called  'dark',  and  Shakespeare 
no  more  attests  the  intellectual  glories  of  his  day 
than  Dante,  three  hundred  years  earlier,  proclaims 
the  high  civilization  of  the  Thirteenth  Century — 
the  heyday  of  the  Ages  of  Faith. 


SUCCESS  AT  A  COST 


OCCASIONALLY,  Catholics  are  shocked  by 
disclosures  involving  the  honor  of  Catholic 
professional  men.  In  notorious  cases  recently 
before  the  courts  of  Massachusetts,  certain  Catholic 
lawyers  laid  themselves  open  to  just  criticism  for 
having  consented  to  accept  what  were  obviously 
seamy  cases.  Success  was  dependent,  not  upon 
legal  ability,  but  upon  agility  in  manipulating  the 
subtilties  of  the  law.  It  seems  also  that  these 
lawyers  extorted  large  sums  of  money  from  clients 
whom  they  intimidated  with  the  thinly  veiled  threat 
of  exposure. 

These  occurrences  furnish  another  proof  that  a 
truer  standard  of  morality  and  higher  ideals  are 
needed  among  some  Catholic  professional  men. 
Catholics,  in  certain  cities,  have  little  reason  to  be 
proud  of  their  representatives  in  public  life.  Gifted 
with  versatile  talents,  many  have  proven  sad  disap- 
pointments; given  a  trust,  they  have  betrayed  it. 
Strange  it  is,  but  true,  that  the  public  looks  for  purer 
service  from  the  Catholic  than  from  the  non-Catholic 
man  of  affairs. 

Catholic  men  and  women  in  the  professions 
brush  shoulders  with  adherents  of  many  creeds. 
Thrown  into  such  surroundings,  they  more  than  ever 
need  the  sustaining  influence  of  their  Catholic  faith, 
for  the  literature  in  vogue  and  the  views  expressed 
are  generally  hostile  to  the  Church.    The  desire  to 


appear  broad-minded  prompts  many  such  Catholics 
to  sacrifice  truth  to  falsehood.  To  curry  favor  with 
unscruplous  associates,  they  spinelessly  consent 
to  things  that  become  barbs  in  conscience,  and  that 
bring  both  themselves  and  their  religion  into  ill- 
repute. 

Even  such  as  have  been  educated  in  Catholic 
schools  and  colleges  do  not  blush  to  throw  over- 
board the  principles  of  morality  therein  learned, 
and  to  accept  a  more  convenient  standard  of  pro- 
fessional practice.  If  asked  for  the  reason  why 
they  have  thus  discarded  their  first  ideals,  they  will 
tell  you  that  they  found  them  impractical.  Success 
did  not  come  to  them  at  once,  and  money  did  not 
find  its  way  to  them.  So,  perforce,  they  adopted 
new  ways  of  thinking  and  of  living.  Once  they 
served  Christ;  now  they  serve  Caesar.  The  front 
door  has  been  thrown  wide  open  to  Mammon,  but, 
alas,  peace  has  fled  the  house. 

When  will  these  men  and  women  come  :c 
realize  the  imperative  need  of  standing  by  the  solid 
principles  they  have  been  taught? — the  interests  of 
God,  first,  last  and  always.  The  life  of  the  late 
Chief  Justice  White  is  a  rebuke  to  the  cowardly 
and  a  potent  witness  to  the  fact  that  even  for 
advancement  and  universal  recognition  in  a  profes- 
sion no  Catholic  need  compromise  the  teachings  of 
his  Church. 


By   the   Hill   of  Slane 


ElLl£HN   1 

H1GHT!  Light!  Light!" 
The  woman  rose  rather  wearily  from 
her  bed  and  flung  an  armful  of  wood  on 
the  smouldering  fire  which  blazed  up  again 
showing  the  interior  of  a  bare  room.  The  covering 
of  the  bed  on  which  the  child  who  had  called  lay 
was  soft  and  warm,  as  was  also  the  long  dark  cloak 
his  mother  wore  fastened  at  the  neck  with  a  gold 
brooch. 

The  child,  apparently  satisfied  by  her  action, 
turned  on  his  side  and  in  a  moment  was  slumbering 
peacefully. 

Clothra  however  did  not  return  to  her  bed  at 
once,  but  going  to  the  door  flung  it  open  and  looked 
out  into  the  night.  It  was  early  Spring,  and,  though 
within  all  became  dark  as  the  fire  died  down,  out- 
of-doors  there  was  still  light  enough  for  her  to  see 
the  dim  shapes  of  the  trees  near  at  hand,  and  a  little 
way  off  the  sloping  outline  of  the  Hill  of  Slane 
almost  at  the  foot  of  which  her  home  lay.  Her 
attitude  showed  that  she  was  expecting  someone, 
but  whoever  it  was  did  not  appear,  and  presently 
she  went  in  again  and  sat  down  beside  the  child. 
She  was  drowsy  but  she  did  not  lie  down  at  once 
for  she  did  not  want  to  go  to  sleep  until  she  was 
quite  sure  that  the  child's  slumber  was  sound. 

As  she  watched  beside  him  her  dark  gray  eyes 
over  which  the  heavy  lids  drooped  filled  with  tears, 
and  she  muttered:  "Surely  it  is  as  though  he  were 
bewitched." 

It  seemed  indeed  as  if  there  was  some  truth  in 
her  words  so  great  was  the  change  in  the  child  who 
but  a  short  season  back  had  been  strong  and  brave 
and  handsome,  and  so  healthy  that  he  slept  from 
sunset  to  sunrise  without  waking. 

Earc  had  gone  one  day  with  his  father  to  seek 
for  some  strayed  cattle  in  the  tombs  of  the  Kings 
at  New  Grange  which  were  at  no  great  distance 
from  Slane.  He  was  curious  to  see  this  place  and 
finding  an  opening  he  ventured  inside,  but  when, 
startled  by  the  eerie  darkness,  he  turned  almost  at 
once  to  come  out  again,  he  found  the  opening  closed 
behind  him.  His  father  had  in  his  service  a  man 
whom  on  one  occasion  he  had  punished  with  over- 
severity  for  some  offence,  and  this  man  either  by 


way  of  a  rough  joke  or  in  revenge  for  his  punishment 
had  followed  the  boy  and  shut  him  in. 

Earc  was  traced  and  rescued,  but  not  until 
some  hours  had  elapsed.  It  was  only  after  some 
days  had  passed  that  it  was  discovered  that  though 
he  had  sustained  no  bodily  injury  he  was  yet  sorely 
altered.  He  was  become  strangely  timorous,  and 
especially  a  dread  of  darkness  had  come  upon  him 
so  that  if  he  awoke  in  the  night,  as  he  often  did  now, 
he  would  cry  out  with  terror;  also  his  bodily  health 
waned  by  degrees  until  at  last  he  grew  so  weak  that 
he  lay  all  day  on  his  bed  almost  without  moving. 

GLOTHRA  was  a  heavy  sleeper,  and  the  dawn 
had  already  broken  when  she  once  more 
came  to  the  door  of  the  hut  and  looked 
southwards.  When  a  tall  figure  wrapped  in  a  cloak 
which  reached  nearly  to  his  tight-fitting  trews 
stepped  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  ash  wood  she 
drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief;  this  was  partly  due  to  the 
fact  that  it  was  Nial,  not  Cormac,  who  was  striding 
towards  her.  Yet  she  loved  Cormac,  her  husband, 
in  much  the  same  fervid  manner  as  she  loved  her 
child,  while  she  cared  but  little  for  her  step-son 
Nial. 

Both  Cormac  and  Nial  had  been  absent  at  Tara, 
where  was  being  held  a  Convention  of  the  Druids 
and  Princes  of  Leinster;  but  whereas  Cormac  had 
gone  thither  because  he  was  a  man  of  some  import- 
ance in  his  sept,  Nial's  errand  had  been  a  private 
one  of  his  own  suggestion.  He  had  gone  to  try  to 
persuade  a  certain  Druid  who  was  connected  with 
their  sept,  to  use  his  magic  power  to  take  the  spell 
off  the  sick  child. 

Nial  was  not  beautiful  like  Earc,  and  would 
indeed  have  been  downright  ugly  were  it  not  for 
the  colour  of  his  eyes  which  were  dark  blue  and 
had  moreover  at  all  times  an  intelligent  and  kindly 
look  in  them.  Now  as  he  came  forward,  though 
his  face  was  haggard  and  weary,  they  shone  with  a 
light  that  made  Clothra  augur  the  best. 

"T'is  well!"  she  exclaimed,  "surely  the  wise 
man  has  removed  the  spell."  But  as  Nial  shook  his 
head,  her  face  fell. 


THE  t  SIGN 


"But  at  least  he  will  aid  us  to  vengeance!" 
she  cried. 

"No,"  said  Nial,  "but  what  matter  is  that?" 

"Not  to  you,  mayhap!"  was  the  angry  retort, 
for  Clothra  never  forgot,  though  Nial  often  did, 
that  he  was  only  Earc's  half-brother. 

"  Tis  you  that  have  not  done  your  errand  at 
all." 

"Ah  but  I  have,  Clothra.  Between  this  and 
Tara  I  met  with  a  man  wiser  than  all  the  Druids, 
and  he  bade  me  tell  you  to  have  no  fear  of  spells, 
which  are  but  a  delusion  of  evil." 

"And  the  High  Druid,  has  he  not  forbid  him  to 
speak?" 

"He  would  not  obey;  I  tell  you  the  holy 
Patrick — as  men  begin  to  call  him — fears  neither 
the  many  gods  of  this  land,  nor  the  Druids,  nor 
spells,  for  he  serves  One  to  Whom  all  these  are 
nothing." 

Clothra's  dark  eyes  grew  round;  she  had  no 
great  love  for  the  Druids,  only  a  fear  that  amounted 
to  dread,  and  as  for  the  gods  she  had  no  great  faith 
in  them  seeing  that  she  tried  a  different  one  every 
day.  It  might  be  this  stranger  could  lift  the  spell 
off  her  boy,  so  she  questioned  Nial  eagerly. 

"Is  he  of  our  race?" 

"Ay,  but  not  of  our  country.  He  was  brought  as 
a  slave  to  Erin  and  suffered  much,  but  he  escaped 
at  last,  and — " 

But  Clothra  would  hear  no  more,  and  wrung 
her  hands  in  bitter  disappointment.  A  slave !  What 
could  such  a  one  do  to  help?  It  was  no  use  for 
Nial  to  try  to  tell  her  how  Patrick  was  no  slave  but 
noble  by  birth,  and  how  he  had  come  to  bring  glad 
tidings  of  the  one  true  God  and  the  Saviour  of  the 
world.  Still  less  use  would  it  have  been  to  attempt 
to  tell  her  of  the  wonderful  light  that  had  dawned 
on  his  own  soul. 

"  'Tis  myself  I  blame!"  wailed  Clothra,  "to  be 
trusting  a  good-for-naught."  She  despised  Nial 
both  for  his  plainness,  and  for  the  humbleness  of 
mind  that  made  him  slow  to  take  offence  when 
unjustly  reproached. 

Nail  turned  away  now  and  went  to  Earc's  bed- 
side, the  child  greeting  him  with  a  cry  of  delight,  for 
a  deep  affection  existed  between  the  two.  But  now 
as  Nial  looked  at  the  sick  child's  wasted  form  and 
fevered  eyes  and  heard  him,  who  had  once  been 
so  brave  and  high-spirited,  scream  with  terror  be- 
cause a  spider  dropped  upon  his  hand,  it  took  all  his 
faith  in  the  holy  Patrick  and  his  teaching  to  believe 


that  the  child  was  not  under  the  influence  of  some 
spell  too  strong  to  conquer. 


e 


"VERY  moment  he  had  to  spare  Nial  spent  by 
the  sick  child's  side.  At  night  he  was  always 
on  the  watch  to  replenish  the  fire  so  that  it 
was  but  rarely  such  a  cry  as  had  roused  Clothra 
was  heard,  for  by  his  care  he  was  able  to  save 
Earc  from  the  darkness  he  dreaded.  But  he  had 
tasks  to  perform  out-of-doors  since  his  father 
exacted  much  service  from  him.  One  day  on  his 
return  home  he  found  an  evil-looking  old  woman 
crouching  by  Earc's  bed.  There  was  no  one  else 
about  for  his  mother  was  helping  a  servant  to  grind 
corn  in  the  big  quorn  at  the  other  end  of  the 
enclosure. 

Nial  recognized  the  old  woman  at  once  as  a 
reputed  witch  and  when  he  saw  the  terror  on  Earc's 
face  he  was  so  angry  that  without  a  word  he  took 
her  by  the  shoulder  and  almost  flung  her  out  of  the 
room.  She  dared  not  resist  but  outside  she  paused 
and  cursed  horribly,  calling  down  the  vengeance  of 
all  the  gods  she  knew  and  of  the  Druids  on  his  head. 

"I  fear  none  of  them!"     he  cried.     "Begone!" 

Then  as  she  crawled  away  she  turned  and 
screamed  loud  enough  for  the  sick  child  to  hear: 
"I  tell  you  all  your  care  of  yonder  weakling  is  of 
no  avail,  for  on  the  night  that  all  the  lights  must 
go  out,  he  will  go  out  too." 

Nial  went  back  into  the  house  seeking  as  best 
he  might  to  comfort  the  terrified  child.  But  his 
heart  was  sick  within  him.  The  dread  of  that  one 
night  of  the  year  on  which  according  to  Druid  law 
every  light  but  theirs  must  be  extinguished  was  on 
himself  as  well  as  Earc,  even  though  Patrick  had 
told  him  to  have  no  fear  for  the  terror  of  that  night 
was  about  to  pass  for  ever. 

As  the  dreaded  night  drew  near  Nial  made  up 
his  mind  that  at  all  risks — and  these  were  not  light 
since  disobedience  meant  death  if  discovered — he 
would  kindle  a  fire  as  usual  on  it.  There  was  every 
chance,  however,  that  he  might  do  so  without  dis- 
covery for  the  house  was  divided  into  two  chambers 
by  a  thick  oaken  door,  on  the  other  side  of  which 
was  the  sleeping-place  of  Cormac  and  Clothra. 
Cheaply  as  the  latter  held  him,  she  knew  there  was 
no  need  for  her  to  trouble  to  wake  when  Nial  was 
at  hand.  The  only  window  in  the  room  where  Nial 
was  wont  to  watch  by  Earc  was  so  tiny  that  he  could 
easily  darken  it  by  means  of  a  board  and  a  piece  of 
cloth. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


Yet  as  Nial  sat  by  his  brother's  side  and  the 
hour  for  extinguishing  all  lights  drew  near  he  could 
not  shake  off  a  sense  of  dread.  The  old  woman's 
threat  kept  ringing  in  his  ears  and  though  as  yet 
the  child  slept  quietly  it  seemed  to  him  that  the 
hand  grew  colder  and  clammier  in  his  grasp  as  the 
shadows  deepened  round  them.  The  daylight 
lingered  yet  outside  but  within  the  dusk  gathered 
thickly.  The  room  was  almost  dark  when,  rising 
with  a  yawn,  Cormac  kicked  out  the  last  remnants 
of  the  fire  and  followed  by  Clothra  went  to  bed. 

XT  was  not  until  a  sound  resembling  distant 
thunder  told  Nial  that  Cormac  was  asleep 
that  he  ventured  to  move  and  close  every 
chink  of  the  window,  and  as  soon  as  that  was  done, 
by  feeling  rather  than  seeing,  he  set  to  work  to  re- 
kindle the  fire  as  noiselessly  as  he  could.  The  ashes 
were  fortunately  still  warm  and  a  faint  red  glow 
illumined  the  room  as  he  bent  down  to  pile  on  three 
dry  birch  logs. 

As  he  did  so  the  outer  door  was  burst  violently 
open  and  a  man  rushing  in  struck  him  a  violent 
blow  on  the  head,  while  another  hastily  scattered 
the  fire  Nial  had  kindled.  A  mocking  laugh  out- 
side told  Nial  who  it  was  had  guessed  that  he  might 
disobey  the  Druids.  He  struggled  to  rise  that  he 
might  at  least  reach  Earc's  side  but  as  he  did  so 
another  blow  stretched  him  senseless. 

The  men  satisfied  with  their  work,  and  fearing 
that  Cormac  who  had  ceased  snoring  might  avenge 
his  son,  fled  hastily,  leaving  the  door  wide  open 
behind  them. 

Then  someone  moved  in  the  darkness  and  there 


was  a  pitiful  cry  of  "My  brother!  oh  my  brother!" 
Earc's  great  love  for  his  brother  had  over-powered 
even  his  terror  of  the  darkness  and  forgetful  of  all 
else  he  bent  over  him  now  and  tried  to  raise  his 
head.  Then  he  remembered  that  an  earthenware 
jar  stood  in  a  far  corner  of  the  room  and  he 
tried  to  feel  his  way  to  it.  But  now  the  darkness 
seemed  to  wrap  him  around  and  blind  and  stiffle 
him  and  he  could  not  reach  it.  In  spite  of  him- 
self the  old  cry  of  "Light!  Light!"  rose  to  his 
lips  though  Nial  could  not  rise  to  give  it  to 
him. 

Yet  did  it  seem  as  though  his  cry  was  answered 
for  suddenly  a  brilliant  light  illumined  the  place 
and  showed  him,  to  his  great  joy,  Nial  leaning  on 
his  elbow  and  looking  at  him,  while  Cormac  and 
Clothra  stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  inner  room 
with  scared  faces.  It  seemed  as  though  the  Hill 
of  Slane  was  on  fire,  so  glorious  was  the  bonfire 
that  blazed  to  heaven  on  it. 

"What  is  it?"  they  asked.  But  Nial,  whose 
senses  had  now  returned,  rose  to  his  feet  and  catch- 
ing Earc  in  his  arms  carried  him  out  to  see  the 
wonderful  sight.  He  knew  that  there  was  but  one 
man  in  Ireland  who  would  dare  to  light  a  fire  this 
night  on  the  hill  of  Slane,  the  highest  hill  in 
Meath. 

Earc  laughed  and  clapped  his  hands  as  the 
flames  leaped  up;  and  cried  "I  shall  never  be  afraid 
any  more,  Nial."  Whilst  his  brother  with  a 
strangely  uplifted  look  upon  his  face  murmured, 
"He  told  me  all  would  be  well  on  Easter  Eve;  I  did 
not  understand  then,  but  now  I  know.  The  darkness 
is  past  and  the  day  dawns." 


An   E%)er9-Da;y   Prayer 


Today,  })es  every  day,  I  ask 

Of  Thee,  dear  Lord,  but  one  request; 
I  do  not  long  for  pomp  or  power, 

Or  With  great  Wealth,  would  I  be  blessed 
I  ask  not  of  y*ou  glory",  gold 

Or  friends,  to  count  them  by  the  score; 
I  simply  ask,  Thy1  blessing  Lord, 

And  grace  to  love  Thee   more  and  more. 


James  W.  Gibbons 

Tke  days  ro 


into  weeks  and  months, 

And  time  rolls  on  in  endless  years, 
And  yet  I  knoW  tke  time  must  come 

When  I  must  leave  this  vale  of  tears. 
In  that  last  hour,  I  only  ask 

Thy  mercy,  Lord,  extend  to  me, 
Forgiveness,  a  happy  death, 

And  then  eternal  rest  With  Thee. 


The   White   Rose  of  Lucca 

Tke  Stor$   of  Gemma  Galgani 

MATTHEW   KUEBEL 
3 — The    Coming    of    St.    Gabriel 


© 


Y  the  time  that  Gemma  reached  her 
eighteenth  year,  she  had  scaled  the  heights 
of  spiritual  perfection.  All  the  virtues  had 
taken  deep  root  in  her  soul.  She  was  com- 
pletely detached  from  the  world:  her  soul  being, 
no  doubt,  in  the  eyes  of  God,  as  white  as  Alpine 
snows  and  all  aglow  with  the  fire  of  Divine  Love. 
She  had  been  the  recipient  of  sublime  spiritual 
gifts  without  prejudice  to  lowliness  of  heart;  and 
while  she  was  most  charitable,  most  prayerful, 
full  of  faith,  and  completely  possessed  by  spiritual 
aspirations,  still  she  seemed  convinced  that  she  was 
far,  far  away  from  her  high  spiritual  goal. 

She  knew  how  to  draw  inspiration  from  every- 
thing for  renewed  fervor  in  the  service  of  God. 
Thus  in  the  changes  of  the  seasons,  in  the  beauties 
of  nature,  which  seemed  to  her  the  reflection  of  the 
loving  smiles  of  heaven,  in  the  solemnities  of  the 
Church,  even  in  her  little  successes  and  triumphs, 
she  felt  the  close  presence  of  a  Kind  Providence 
directing  her  sanctification.  Thus  she  continued 
always  to  spur  herself  on  in  the  divine  service.  To 
draw  nearer  to  the  Divine  Lover  of  her  soul,  to  be 
more  closely  united  with  Him  was  her  one  pre- 
occupation, her  all-absorbing  desire.  And  so  at  the 
approach  of  the  New  Year,  1897,  she  wrote  in  her 
book  of  memoranda  the  following  note : 

"In  this  New  Year  I  purpose  to  begin 
a  new  life.  I  know  not  what  is  going  to 
happen  to  me  during  this  year.  I  abandon 
myself  to  Thee,  O  my  God!  All  my  hopes 
and  my  affections  shall  be  for  Thee.  I  feel 
my  weakness,  O  Jesus!  but  I  rely  on  Thy 
assistance,  and  I  resolve  to  live  differently, 
that  is,  nearer  to  Thee." 

The  visions,  the  apparitions,  the  heavenly 
voices  with  which  she  was  favored  at  this  time, 
made  her  despise  the  things  of  earth  and  ardently 
long  for  the  happiness  of  Heaven.  Therefore,  she 
greatly  rejoiced  whenever  she  fell  sick,  thinking 
that  God  was  about  to  take  her  to  Heaven;  and 
when  she  would  recover,  she  felt  grieved  and  dis- 


appointed. But  little  by  little  God  revealed  to  her 
that,  before  this  ardent  desire  would  be  fulfilled 
she  must  travel  the  way  of  the  cross,  after  the 
manner  of  her  Blessed  Redeemer.  So  on  one 
occasion  when  her  desire  for  Heaven  was  particu- 
larly strong,  she  asked  our  Lord  at  Holy  Communior 
why  He  did  not  take  her  to  Paradise.  "Because 
my  child,"  He  answered,  "I  will  give  thee  man> 
occasions  of  greater  merit  in  this  life  through  th> 
increased  longing  for  Heaven,  while  bearing  patient- 
ly the  pains  of  earth." 

These  words  of  our  Divine  Lord  fired  her  young 
heart  with  a  great  yearning  for  suffering, — thai 
bread  of  the  strong  which  was  to  bring  her  to  the 
summit  of  sacrifice,  there  to  be  immolated  in  £ 
blissful  union  with  the  Crucified.  No  greater  prooi 
of  the  genuineness  of  her  sanctity  could  be  desired 
than  the  fact  that  ordinary  trials  did  not  satisfy 
her.  The  love  that  burned  in  her  noble  heart  was 
great  and  strong  to  an  extrordinary  degree,  and 
therefore,  its  channel,  its  sustenance,  its  test  oJ 
strength  must  be  equally  great.  The  year  1896  i< 
the  time  at  which,  she  records,  that  an  over-whelm' 
ing  desire  to  suffer  with  Christ  possessed  her  soul 
"I  began  to  feel  an  insatiable  longing  for  suffering,' 
she  tells  us,  "and  to  be  able  to  share  my  Savior': 
pains.  In  the  midst  of  my  countless  sins,  I  ever) 
day  besought  Jesus  to  let  me  suffer  much.  'Yes  mj 
Jesus,'  I  used  to  pray,  T  wish  to  suffer,  and  to  suffei 
greatly  for  Thee.' 

EIRST,  an  ailment  of  the  foot,  an  affectioi 
which  she  disregarded  but  which  shortl} 
developed  gangrene,  forced  the  physician: 
to  use  drastic  measures  to  avoid  amputation.  Th< 
deep  probing  of  the  wound  and  a  vigorous  scraping 
of  the  bone,  operations  that  made  those  who  wit 
nessed  them  shudder  with  horror,  were  but  a  portioi 
of  the  excruciating  remedies  employed.  Th< 
courageous  girl  refused  to  take  an  anaesthetic,  anc 
bore  the  terrible  pain  almost  without  a  murmur 
It  was  thus,  she  afterwards  said,  that  in  response 


THE  +  SIGN 


to  her  earnest  entreaty  to  send  her  some  suffering 
that  Jesus  consoled  her. 

Then  Signor  Galgani,  through  the  machinations 
of  certain  unscrupulous  persons,  little  by  little  lost 
his  comfortable  estate,  a  loss  that  reduced  him  and 
his  family  to  privation  and  want.  Close  upon  the 
heels  of  this  misfortune,  Signor  Galgani  contracted 
cancer  of  the  throat,  and  soon  after,  on  the  11th 
of  November,  1897,  he  died.  There  upon  his  home 
was  besieged  by 
lawyers  and  creditors, 
who  stripped  the 
house  of  almost  every- 
thing that  could  be 
carried  away.  And 
so  Signor  Galgani's 
seven  children  and 
two  maiden  sisters, 
being  left  without  any 
means  of  support, 
often  lacked  the  very 
necessaries  of  life. 
Gemma  deeply  real- 
ized the  greatness  of 
the  sacrifice  that  God 
was  demanding  of  her 
in  common  with  the 
rest  of  the  family;  she 
felt  these  misfortunes 
most  keenly,  and  be- 
cause of  the  hardships 
they  brought  upon  the 
rest  of  the  family,  she 
wept  bitter  tears. 

This  distressing 
burden  of  misfortune 
was  afterwards  much 

relieved  through  the  help  rendered  by  relatives. 
Gemma  was  invited  to  stay  with  her  Aunt  Carolina 
Lencioni,  who  was  rich  and  quite  able  to  support  her 
comfortably.  As  before  hardship  revealed  her 
fortitude,  so  now  her  detachment  became  apparent, 
for,  work  in  the  house,  prayer,  and  solitude  were 
her  only  joy. 

But  new  circumstances  did  not  remove  the  cross, 
for,  spiritual  difficulties  now  took  the  place  of 
temporal  privations.  At  her  new  home  Gemma  was 
expected  to  conform  to  the  ways  of  fashionable 
society,  and  her  efforts  to  do  so  caused  her  great 
remorse.  Yet  she  did  not  wish  to  offend  her  rela- 
tives by  seeming  to  reprehend  in  them  what  she 


The  Crucifix  of  Limpias 


Francis  Kean  MacMurrough 


In  distant  Limpias,  remote  in  Spain, 

And  yet  from  Santander  not  really  far, 

By  boat  or  diligence  or  farmer's  vCain, 

Something  has  happened  wondrous,  singular 


felt  was  not  good  for  herself.  The  disappointment 
that  she  caused  them  by  her  reluctance,  or  rather 
inability,  to  follow  their  manner  of  life  gave  her 
real  pain.  She  was,  therefore,  much  perplexed,  and 
there  was  no  one  whom  she  could  consult  to  find  out 
what  to  do.  Even  the  Divine  Master  was  silent  and 
seemed  unwilling  to  help.  But  Gemma  only  sought 
the  Master  with  all  the  greater  ardor;  she  continued 
to  pray  with  her  usual  fervor;  increased  her  efforts 
to  strengthen  the 
union  of  her  soul  with 
God,  she  made  fre- 
quent visits  to  our 
Lady's  shrine  to  pray 
for  the  repose  of  her 
father's    soul. 


I  speak,  as  'twere,  as  one  not  of  the  Faith — 
Of  Fra  Anselmo  and  associate — 

WKo  in  the  tillage  church  savJ,  not  a  vCraith 

But  God's  dear  Son  and  Her's,  Immaculate- 

In  this  drear  world,  now  riven  so  tvy"  strife, 

The  Prince  of  Peace  again  His  quest  fulfills 

A  wooden  Crucifix  has  come  to  life 

At  this  Shrine  in  the  Cantabrian  hills. 

And  soon  again  the  voice  of  God  will  speak 
To  men,  so  say's  Anselmo,  saintly"  seer, 

And  this  time,  all  men,  Jeu>,  Gentile  and  Greek 
Will  know  their  Lord  and  give  attentive  ear 


HE  attracted  a 
great  deal  of 
favorable  at- 
tention while  she  lived 
at  Camaiore,  and  it 
was  this  that  was  des- 
tined to  bring  her  stay 
there  to  an  abrupt 
end.  Her  conspicu- 
o  u  s  modesty,  the 
austere  simplicity  of 
her  manner  of  dress, 
could  not  hide  the 
grace  and  beauty  of 
her  face  and  person; 
instead,  both  these 
qualities  became  more 
strikingly  apparent. 
A  young  man  of  the 
place,  of  good  family, 
having  seen  Gemma,  fell  in  love  with  her,  and  with- 
out further  preliminaries  made  overtures  to  Signor 
Lencioni  for  the  favor  of  his  niece's  hand.  The  pro- 
position was  very  favorably  received.  Here  seem- 
ingly was  a  Providential  interposition  to  relieve  the 
distress  of  the  late  Signor  Galgani's  dependents. 
When  the  subject  was  broached  to  Gemma,  she  not 
only  would  not  listen  to  the  proposal,  but  resolved  to 
leave  Camaiore  at  once.  She,  therefore,  cast  about 
for  some  pretext  to  carry  out  her  purpose.  The 
desired  opportunity  was  not  long  in  coming,  for, 
soon  after  she  was  afflicted  with  severe  pains  in  her 
head  and  back.  Thereupon  Gemma  besought  her 
aunt  and  uncle  to  send  her  back  to  Lucca.     They 


■ 


THE  1*  SIGN 


were  very  loathe  to  let  her  go;  but  Gemma  was  so 
insistent  that  she  could  not  be  denied. 

On  her  return  home,  her  illness  did  not,  by  any 
means,  pass  away  as  quickly  as  it  came.  Rather 
it  hourly  grew  worse,  with  developments  rapid  and 
serious — curvature  of  the  spine,  a  severe  attack 
of  meningitis  followed  by  total  loss  of  hearing,  large 
abscesses  on  her  head,  then  paralysis.  The  saintly 
girl  tried  to  keep  her  illness  a  secret,  but  as  one 
symptom  after  another  appeared,  she  had  to  give  in. 
What  she  feared  most  was  the  medical  examination, 
but  when  the  physicians  were  called,  she  resigned 
herself  to  obedience  and  made  a  sacrifice  of  her  will 
to  God.  The  malady  was  diagnosed  as  spine  disease, 
and  was  so  treated,  but  without  avail,  for  Gemma 
grew  worse. 

Thus  a  whole  year  passed,  during  which  Gemma 
hovered  between  life  and  death.  It  was  a  veritable 
crucifixion,  for,  being  unable  to  move  hand  or  foot, 
she  had  to  remain  day  and  night  in  the  same  posi- 
tion, unless  when  moved  by  some  kind  hand.  Grad- 
ually the  delicate  frame  of  the  young  girl  wasted 
away,  her  strength  becoming  less  and  less,  until  she 
was  a  mere  shadow  of  her  former  self.  To  save  the 
dying  girl  the  doctors  had  recourse  from  time  to 
time  to  severe  operations,  for  which  as  usual  she 
refused  the  anaesthetic,  when  the  spasms  of  pain 
well-nigh  snuffed  out  the  flickering  flame  of  life 
that  remained. 


she  had  not  even  heard  of  the  saintly  Passionist, 
and  at  first  did  not  take  to  him,  although  many  of 
her  friends  were  praying  to  him  for  her  cure.  When, 
therefore,  a  certain  lady  offered  her  the  saint's  life 
to  read,  she  accepted  the  offer  more  for  courtesy's 
sake  than  for  any  interest  she  had  in  the  saintly 
subject. 

But  is  was  God's  will  that  Gemma  should 
become  specially  devoted  to  St.  Gabriel.  On  one 
occasion,  soon  after  she  received  the  saint's  life, 
she  became  deeply  immersed  in  a  black  melancholy 
accompanied  by  an  unwonted  agitation  of  her  soul. 
The  many  heavy  crosses  that  she  had  borne  and 
that  were  then  weighing  upon  her,  were  represented 
to  her  mind  in  their  darkest  hue,  as  if  all  were  the 
direct  result  of  her  faithful  service  of  God.  Con- 
trasted with  this  was  the  picture  of  the  joys,  the 
pleasures,  the  general  well-being  of  mind  and  body 
that  might  have  been  hers,  had  she  not  chosen  to 
devote  herself  so  completely  to  God's  service. 
Although  unaccustomed  to  such  attacks,  Gemma 
knew  that  these  suggestions  did  not  come  from 
Heaven,  but  originated  with  the  enemy  of  her  soul. 
Instinctively  she  turned  in  prayer  to  Saint  Gabriel 
and  at  once  her  heart  regained  its  peace.  The 
malignant  suggestions  were  repeated  again  and 
again,  and  as  often  she  made  appeal  to  St.  Gabriel 
with  the  same  instant  success,  until  the  attacks 
altogether  ceased. 


^^^HE  misery  of  the  family  meanwhile  increased, 
y  J  because  of  the  additional  expense  they  were 
under  for  medicines  and  doctors  fees  for  the 
relief,  if  not  the  cure,  of  the  invalid  laboring  under 
a  malady  that  apparently  must  be  fatal.  They  could 
not  bring  themselves  to  undergo  the  embarrassment 
of  declaring  their  need  to  Gemma's  many  sympa- 
thetic friends,  who  undoubtedly  would  have  given 
them  assistance.  The  result  was  that  things  came 
to  such  a  pass  that  they  were  unable  to  provide  for 
the  poor  invalid  the  commonest  household  remedies. 

During  all  these  sufferings  Gemma  was  not  left 
without  consolation.  God  sent  her  good  angel  to 
comfort  her.  "If  Jesus  afflicts  thee  corporally,"  said 
the  angel,  "He  does  so  in  order  to  purify  thee  more 
and  more." 

Through  one  of  her  kind  visitors,  Gemma  be- 
came acquainted,  so  to  say,  with  St.  Gabriel  of 
Our  Lady  of  Sorrows,  and  this  acquaintance-ship 
afterwards  proved  the  silver  lining  to  the  dark 
clouds  of  affliction  lowering  over  her.     Until  then 


(HE  was  deeply  grateful  to  her  heavenly  bene- 
factor, and'  was  inspired  with  immense  con- 
fidence in  him  after  this  proof  of  his  power 
with  God.  She  remembered  the  life  that  she  had 
laid  aside,  and  taking  it  up,  read  it  again  and  again 
with  increasing  interest  and  affection.  From  that 
time  on  St.  Gabriel  was  a  special  patron.  At  night 
before  going  to  sleep  she  would  place  his  picture 
under  her  pillow;  at  all  times  the  thought  of  him 
was  in  her  mind;  in  some  mysterious  way  she  saw 
him  standing  always  near  her.  When  the  lady  came 
back  for  her  book,  it  was  with  great  regret  that 
Gemma  returned  it,  and  she  could  not  restrain  her 
tears. 

Nevertheless,  the  soul  of  the  afflicted  girl  was 
filled  with  spiritual  joy,  the  harbinger,  no  doubt,  of 
the  great  privilege  that  she  was  about  to  receive. 
That  night  while  she  was  asleep  she  clearly  saw 
someone  bright  as  an  angel,  standing  near  her  bed. 
She  did  not  recognize  him  at  first,  though  she  knew 
that  he   was   no   ordinary   person   but,   in  truth,   a 


THE  +  SIGN 


heavenly  guest.  When  she  saw  the  Passionist  habit, 
she  quickly  recognized  him  as  St.  Gabriel,  but  could 
not  utter  a  word.  St.  Gabriel  did  not  stay  long;  this 
visit  was  merely  his  introduction  to  the  saintly  girl. 
He  merely  asked  her  why  she  had  cried  when 
returning  the  story  of  his  life;  bade  her  to  be  faith- 
ful ;  assured  her  that  he  would  return  to  her 
and  then  was  gone.  That  this  was  a  genuine 
apparition  and  no  mere  dream,  was  proved  by  what 
followed. 

During  her  protracted  and  painful  illness, 
Gemma  came  to  long  more  and  more  for  the  religious 
life.  She  was  convinced  that  this  was  an  inspiration 
from  Heaven,  and,  consequently,  had  a  great  desire 
to  promise  the  Blessed  Virgin,  that  if  she  were  cured, 
she  would  enter  religion.  Her  confessor,  approving 
of  this  resolution,  gave  her  permission  to  make  a 
vow  to  this  effect. 

The  soul  of  the  angelic  girl  was  filled  with 
consolation;  eagerly  she  awaited  her  communion 
of  the  morrow,  when  she  would  promise  her  heaven- 
ly Mother  to  enter  religion,  and  would  make  the  vow 
of  virginity — a  permission  the  confessor  at  last 
granted  her,  after  having  denied  it  for  a  long  time. 
With  these  thoughts  in  her  mind,  Gemma  fell  to 
sleep,  when  she  received  another  visit  from  her 
beloved  patron,  St.  Gabriel.  "Gemma,"  he  said, 
"make  your  vow  to  be  a  religious  freely  and  with  a 
good  heart,  but  add  nothing  to  it."  He  meant  that 
God  had  in  store  for  her  a  mystic  immolation  far 
more  sublime  than  that  of  the  religious  life.  But 
the  simple  girl,  not  understanding  this,  asked  him 
why  she  was  not  to  add  anything  to  her  vow.  The 
Saint's  only  reply  was:  "My  sister!"  Then  he  took 
the  heart  such  as  the  Passionists  are  accustomed  to 
wear,  and  giving  it  to  her  to  kiss,  and  placing  it  on 
her  breast,  he  repeated  the  salutation  and  disap- 
peared. Thus  the  year's  martyrdom  that  Gemma 
suffered  was  checkered  by  alternations  of  pain  and 
consolation. 

When  Gemma  suddenly  took  a  turn  for  the 
worse  at  this  time  it  was  generally  thought  that  this 
must  be  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  her  suffering. 
This  anticipation  proved  correct,  but  in  a  different 
way  from  that  in  which  it  was  expected.  On 
February  2,  her  whole  frame  was  racked  by 
convulsions  of  pain  as  the  result  of  new  tumors 
that  appeared  on  her  head  and  back.  The  phy- 
sicians thought  of  operating  again,  but  the  weakened 
state  of  the  invalid  did  not  permit.  The  doctors, 
unable   to   do   anything  more   for  her,   pronounced 


her  case  hopeless,  and  by  their  advice  the  last 
sacraments  were  administered,  as  Gemma  was  not 
expected  to  outlive  the  night. 

(f^"\UT  it  was  not  God's  will  that  Gemma  should 
v|L»J  die.  Only  a  miracle  could  save  her,  and  God 
wrought  this  miracle  in  reward  for  her  heroic 
patience.  When  it  became  known  that  Gemma's 
death  was  momentarily  expected,  one  of  her  old 
teachers  came  to  see  her,  to  say  good-bye  until  they 
should  meet  in  heaven.  She  advised  Gemma  to 
make  a  novena  to  St.  Margaret  Mary  Alacoque, 
assuring  her  that  the  saint  would  obtain  her  cure. 
To  please  the  good  sister,  Gemma  began  the  novena. 
Near  midnight  of  the  first  day  of  the  novena, 
February  23,  1899.  she  became  aware  of  the  rat- 
tling of  a  rosary,  felt  the  touch  of  a  gentle  hand  on 
her  head,  and  heard  a  sweet  voice  repeating  nine 
times  in  succession,  the  'Our  Father,'  the,  'Hail 
Mary,'  and  the  'Gloria.'  The  devout  girl  was  too 
weak  to  answer.  When  the  prayers  were  finished, 
the  same  voice  asked  her  whether  she  wished  to 
recover,  and  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  advised 
her  to  pray  every  evening  to  the  Sacred  Heart,  and 
promised  to  come  every  evening  to  pray  with  her. 
No  need  to  declare  this  time  who  he  was.  Gemma 
knew  all  the  time  that  it  was  St.  Gabriel  of  Our 
Lady  of  Sorrows.  He  kept  his  promise  faithfully; 
each  time  resting  a  kindly  hand  upon  the  saintly 
girl's  forehead,  while  they  recited  the  novena  prayers 
together:  always  the  nine  'Our  Fathers,'  'Hail 
Marys'  and  'Glorias,'  and  at  the  end  three  extra 
'Glorias,'  to  St.  Margaret  Mary.  The  last  day  of 
the  novena,  which  was  the  first  Friday  of  March. 
Gemma  received  Holy  Communion  amid  a  torrent 
of  heavenly  delights.  Then  Jesus  Himself  asked 
her  whether  she  wished  to  be  cured.  She  was  so 
overcome  by  emotion  that  she  could  not  reply,  but 
her  thought  was:  "Jesus,  whatever  Thou  wiliest." 
Our  Divine  Lord  willed  her  cure,  and  she  knew  at 
once  that  the  grace  was  granted  her.  "Gemma's 
cure  was  as  perfect  as  it  was  instantaneous — the 
Sacred  Heart  being  its  author;  St.  Margaret  Mary, 
the  intercessor;  and  St.  Gabriel  of  the  Dolors,  the 
instrument." 

It  was  only  a  little  after  two  o'clock  when 
Gemma  arose,  those  around  her  weeping  with  joy. 
She,  too,  was  happy,  as  she  beautifully  says,  not 
because  of  her  recovery,  but  because  Jesus  had 
chosen  her  for  his  child. 

(To  be  continued) 


The   La^-Retreat  Movement    Necessary   in   America 


George   Philson 


it? 


"This  sacred  shade  and  solitude,  what 

Tis  the  felt  presence  of  the  Deity, 

Few  are  the  faults  we  flatter,  when  alone." 

Young — Night  Thoughts. 


"  f^.  BURNING  back  the  pages  of  history,  we  read 
/  Cj  of  a  golden  age,  a  silver  age,  an  iron  age; 
^^^^  later  we  come  to  an  age  of  chivalry,  an 
age  of  reform,  an  age  of  adventure;  and 
if  we  may  give  a  name  to  our  own  age  we  shall  not 
be  far  wrong  if  we  call  it  the  age  of  industrial 
enterprise.  Industry  has  taken  possession  of  the 
land;  and  no  man  can  stand  by  idle  and  live. 

That  we  American  people  are  industrious  is 
our  pride.  But  the  danger  arising  from  our  constant 
and  close  contact  with  material  things  and  their 
interests,  is,  that  they  absorb  us  so  much,  leaving 
neither  time  nor  energy,  and,  too  often,  not  even 
will,  to  look  to  higher  things.  Man  is  so  busy  about 
"much  serving,"  about  his  material  well  being,  that 
it  blots  from  his  view,  "the  one  thing  necessary," 
the  knowledge  and  service  of  his  God.  In  other 
words,  constant  attention  to  business  life  tends  to 
confine  a  man's  thoughts,  desires  and  aims  in  a 
material  groove.  Entrenched  in  this  environment 
he  is  constantly  exposed  to  the  danger  of  losing 
hold  on  the  great  truths  of  revelation  and  the 
practice  of  what  revelation  teaches.  This  constant 
devotion  to  industry  and  public  business  life,  unless 
carefully  and  wisely  ordered  will  beget  a  certain 
lax  spirit  of  "living,  and  a  hardness  and  unscrupu- 
losity  which  blunt  the  edge  of  honor,  habituate  the 
mind  to  compromise  and  over-reach,  and  to  forget 
distant  ends  and  interests  in  the  short-lived  triumphs 
of  this  present  life. 

Yet,  the  mere  distractions  of  our  daily  life  are 
not  our  most  dangerous  enemies.  There  are  greater 
dangers,  more  insidious  enemies;  false  theories  of 
religion  and  morals  which  almost  without  our 
knowing  it,  poison  our  thoughts,  pervert  our  ideals, 
and  weaken  the  divine  health  and  vigor  of  the  faith 
within  us :  indifference  in  matters  of  belief,  a 
tolerance  of  false  ideals  of  family  life,  loose  morals, 
vile  and  anti-Christian  literature,  false  standards 
of  honesty  in  business,  a  defiance  of  authority — 
Socialism  and  a  host  of  other  errors. 

Now,  it  is  next  to  impossible  to  live  in  a  defiled 
atmosphere    without    being    contaminated.      Hence 


the  necessity  at  times  to  climb  to  clearer  and  holier 
heights  and  fill  one's  lungs  with  soul-saving  draughts 
of  unpolluted  air. 

"O  sacred  solitude!     divine  retreat! 
Choice  of  the  prudent!    envy  of  the  great, 
By  thy  pure  stream,  or  in  the  waving  shade 
We  court  fair  wisdom,  that  celestial  maid." 

— Young. 


X 


'T  is  necessary  to  dwell  on  the  pure  truths  and 
unselfish  principles  of  our  holy  faith,  which 
are  a  medicine  and  an  antidote  against  these 
evils. 

It  is  this  opportunity  which  Retreats  for  laymen 
offer.  We  must  all  admit  the  fact  that  the  struggle  of 
modern  life  tells  on  the  body  as  well  as  on  the  mind; 
but  do  we  ever  stop  to  think  that  it  is  also  wearing 
and  trying  on  the  strength  and  purity  of  the  immortal 
soul  ?  When  the  body  craves  for  rest  we  give  it 
repose.  But  the  soul,  the  nobler  element  of  our 
being,  should  also  have  its  time  of  calm  in  which  it 
can  be  strengthened  and  fortified  in  the  principles 
of  right  living. 

Many  lack  interest  in  the  Retreat  Movement, 
because  they  have  never  come  in  contact  with  the 
benefical  results  obtained  through  it.  They  seem 
to  cling  to  the  principle  "What  sanctified  our  fore- 
fathers is  sufficient  to  sanctify  us;"  and  they  ask, 
are  not  missions  doing  the  same  good  work  ? 

Granted,  and  only  the  apostle  who  has  worked 
in  the  missionary  field  can  appraise  the  results 
obtained  and  the  harvest  of  souls  that  is  saved 
at  every  mission.  The  idea  of  a  mission  is  familiar 
to  us  all.  We  must  not,  however,  confound  a  mission 
with  a  retreat.  Good  and  helpful  as  a  mission  is, 
the  retreats  for  the  individual  man  mean  something 
more.  The  very  word  suggests  the  difference  for 
"Mission"  means  a  sending.  God's  messengers  are 
sent  to  us  to  exhort  and  to  arouse  us.  We  come 
together  for  awhile  each  day  to  hear  their  instruc- 
tions and  to  pray,  and  then  we  go  home  or  to  our 
business  and  soon  forget  the  message  of  God  which 
we  have  heard.     But  in  retreat  we  ourselves  retire 


T 


HE  t  SIGN 


from  the  bustle  of  our  daily  lives  to  give  ourselves 
entirely  without  distraction  to  intimate  converse  with 
our  Creator.  We  arise  from  our  daily  tasks  and  go 
apart  to  God. 

Some  men  will  ask,  why  should  I  make  a 
retreat?  The  answer  to  this  question  is  well  given 
by  a  writer  in  the  Canadian  Messenger  for  August 
1910. 

"No  doubt  the  means  already  in  vogue  are 
sufficient,  if  they  are  rightly  applied,  and  profited 
by  to  the  full.  But  here  is  just  the  difficulty.  The 
weakness  of  poor  human  nature  is  such  that  even 
the  most  potent  remedies  gradually  lose  their 
efficacy  and  fail  of  their  effect.  We  quickly  lose 
the  spirit  and  fall  into  routine.  Even  the  holiest 
states,  the 
s  a  c  e  r  d  o  tal 
and  the  religi- 
ous are  not 
immune  from 
this  weakness, 
but  need  an 
o  c  c  a  s  i  onal 
awake  ning. 
Now  if  the 
means  of 
?race  so  liber- 
ally scattered 
along  the  path 
of  the  priest 
or  the  religi- 
ous, if  the 
daily  offering 
of    the    Holy 

Sacrifice,  the  recitation  of  the  breviary,  and  the 
continual  dealing  in  holy  things;  if  daily  Mass  and 
Communion,  and  meditation,  and  frequent  spiritual 
readings,  and  multiplied  prayers,  and  examinations 
of  conscience,  and  exhortations,  are  found  so  insuf- 
ficient for  men  and  women  cut  off  from  the  world  and 
living  in  an  atmosphere  of  the  supernatural,  that 
a  yearly  retreat  of  a  week  is  prescribed  by  bishops 
and  by  every  religious  rule,  who  will  say  that  the 
man-in-the-street  who  lacks  all  these  aids  to  sal- 
vation, who  is  flung  into  the  midst  of  temptation  and 
thrown  into  daily  contact  with  sin,  stands  in  no 
need  of  an  occasional  spiritual  rousing,  and  should 
not  be  given  the  opportunity  of  making  a  bare  three 
days'  retreat? 

"  'Let  the  layman  be  satisfied  with  the  ordinary 
means,  forsooth!'    Abolish  retreats  of  religious  and 


clergy,  and  you  will  have  the  condition  of  things 
such  as  it  was  before  the  Council  of  Trent.  'Let 
him  be  satisfied  with  the  means  of  grace  that  sancti- 
fied his  fathers  before  him!'  Yes,  on  condition  that 
you  roll  back  the  world's  history  and  place  him 
in  the  same  circumstances  in  which  his  fathers 
lived." 


® 


BOSTON   CITY   HALL'S   EMPLOYEES'    RETREAT 


ETREATS  for  the  laity  have  been  greatly 
encouraged  by  the  Catholic  Church.  Pontiffs 
again  and  again  have  given  their  special 
blessings  to  the  movement,  conscious  of  the  immense 
agency  for  good  that  such  retreats  are. 

Pope  Pius  X  in  1904  wrote  of  the  retreats : 
"One  cannot  conceive  a  better  method  for  saving  the 

working  men 
exposed,  a  t 
the  present 
time,  to  so 
manydangers. 
Since  our  ele- 
vation to  the 
Papal  Throne 
we  see  still 
more  the  im- 
portance o  f 
these  retreats 
for  the  end 
we  have  in 
view,  'to  re- 
st o  r  e  all 
things  in 
Christ.'  " 

And  on 
one  occasion  he  said  with  great  feeling:  "I  wish 
to  be  the  Pope  of  Retreats." 

Pope  Leo,  his  illustrious  predecessor  wrote  in 
1900  about  retreat  work:  "There  is  no  doubt  that 
these  retreats,  penetrated  with  meditation  upon  the 
celestial  truths,  procure  not  only  the  sanctification 
of  individuals,  but  the  general  utility  of  society. 
We  have  learned  with  the  most  lively  joy  of  the 
creation  of  this  new  work,  and  of  its  fruits,  already 
so  abundant.  We  desire  to  see  this  work,  so  happily 
begun  in  France  and  Belgium,  spread  with  equal 
success  among  other  nations." 

These  words  certainly  make  clear  that  the  mind 
and  heart  of  the  Church  is  in  this  movement,  and 
no  one  .having  the  progress  of  religion  at  heart, 
can  be  indifferent  to  it,  or  stand  aloof,  branding  it 
as  a  novel  or  an  unnecessary  institution. 


THE  f  SIGN 


His  Holiness,  Pope  Benedict  XV,  on  July  15, 
1920,  sent  an  autographed  blessing,  giving  "His 
Apostolic  Benediction  on  the  work  of  Retreats  to  the 
faithful  laity  in  the  Passionist  Monastery  of  Saint 
Gabriel,  Brighton,  Mass.,  and  a  special  Blessing 
to  all  those  who  go  through  the  spiritual  exercises 
in  the  aforesaid  Monastery." 


© 


HE  thought  of  making  a  spiritual  retreat  ought 
not  to  be  rare  or  distasteful  to  our  Catholic 
men  of 


M-tA  :m 


i  Pk'A   11'  ***"         *f 

■fTf*tt| 


America. 
They  are  in 
as  much  need 
of  it  as  their 
European 
brethren 
among  whom 
it  has  become 
an  annual 
custom.  T  o 
leave  the 
active  life  of 
the  world,  its 
gaities  and  its 
pleasures  re- 
quires some 
courage  in 
him  who  has 
never  done  it. 
The  best  of 
Tien,  however, 
have  found 
pleasure  i  n 
occasional  re- 
tirement, and 
i  t  betokens 
some  moral 
defect  when  one  has  no  desire  to  be  sometimes  alone. 

"Converse  wth  men  makes  shape  the  glit- 
tering wit, 

But  God  to  man  doth  speak  in  solitude." 

The  need  of  the  spiritual  retreat  movement  in 
our  industrial  age  is  admitted  by  all  who  thoroughly 
understand  and  have  come  to  appreciate  its  value. 

His  Eminence,  William  Cardinal  O'Connell  in 
his  eloquent  address  at  the  dedication  of  Saint 
Gabriel's  Monastery,  Brighton,  Mass.,  said:  "In 
the  fever  and  agitation  of  modern  life  the  need  of 
meditation    and    spiritual    repose    impresses    itself 


on  the  Christian  mind.  Men  will  grow  hard-hearted 
and  selfish  and  semi-barbarous  unless  above  their 
eyes  a  higher  standard  is  erected.  The  modern 
world  needs  to  learn  the  great  secret  of  repose,  quiet, 
thoughtfulness  and  peaceful  retirement.  In  the 
middle  ages,  when  the  older  civilization  of  paganism 
had  run  its  course  and  failed,  the  monastery  was 
a  beacon  light  that  blazed  from  the  hilltops  of 
Europe  and  summoned  men  to  lay  down  their  arms 
for  a  while  and  soften  their  hearts  to  the  sentiments 

which  created 
Christian 
c  i  v  i  lization. 
Within  t  h  e 
quiet  walls  of 
these  spiritual 
fortresses  an- 
other and  a 
far  greater 
battle  was 
fought  out — 
the  conquest 
of  man  by 
himself —  and 
a  new  knight- 
hood, a  Chris- 
t  i  a  n  knight- 
hood, arose, 
not  to  give 
battle,  but  to 
give  peace." 

In  con- 
cluding h  i  s 
address, 
Cardinal 
O'C  o  n  n  e  1 1 
said:  "The 
dedication  of 
this  Monastery  sets  aside  another  institute  destined 
for  the  welfare  of  the  whole  community  in  which 
we  live.  Up  here  on  the  heights  is  set  a  beacon  light 
which  will  guide  thousands  in  the  way  of  true  living 
and  real  happiness.  Lift  up  your  eyes  to  it  often. 
Climb  the  steep  hillsides  every  now  and  then. 
Knock  at  the  portal  of  this  citadel  of  God,  enter 
and  rest." 

Thousands  have  already  heeded  the  invitation. 
Most   Rev.  Archbishop   Regis   J.   Canevin   ad- 
dressing   the    Retreat    workers    at    Pittsburgh,    Pa. 
April  29,  1918,  said:    "From  the  very  earliest  days, 
not  only  of  Christianity,  but  of  history,  men  have 


^U 


OFFICERS   OF   THE    LAYMEN'S    RETREAT   GUILD 


THE  t  SIGN 


prepared  themselves  for  great  things  by  retirement, 
by  living  in  solitude  and  in  meditation  and  prayer 
for  a  time.  We  find  this  in  the  history  of  the  Old 
Testament,  and  we  find  it  in  the  New.  Even  outside 
of  revealed  religion  great  minds  have  gathered 
strength  by  retirement  and  prayer.  It  seems  to  me 
that  men  at  certain  times  of  their  lives  should  with- 
draw themselves  from  their  worldly  occupations 
and  spend  their  time  in  prayer,  in  order  that  as  men 
and  Christians  they  may  better  fulfill  the  work 
before  them." 

His  Eminence  Cardinal  Farley  of  New  York 
speaking  of  retreats  and  missions  said:  "The 
mission  is  not 
a  retreat.  A 
mission  is  fil- 
led with  many 
d  i  s  tractions, 
and  its  work 
is  scattered. 
The  truths 
men  hear  in  a 
mission  are 
not  so  deeply 
etched  on 
their  souls  as 
if  they  were 
entirely  seclu- 
ded. In  a  re- 
treat you  are 
free  from  dis- 

traCtl0n         °  f  BOSTON    BUSINES: 

your    facul- 
ties; you  have  a  whole  series  of  instructions  and 
exercises  knitted  together  in  logical  sequence;  you 
are  made  to  think  and  to  judge  things  at  their  true 
value." 

^^=^HE  retreat  movement,  of  rather  recent  date 
V^y  in  this  country,  has  attained  a  gratifying 
growth.  In  fact  one  of  the  consoling  signs 
of  the  times,  amidst  the  present  upheaval  of  things, 
is  the  interest  manifested  by  the  Catholic  laity  in  the 
retreat  movement  for  men.  Those  who  have  the 
progress  of  religion  at  heart  are  particularly  gratified 
in  seeing  numbers  of  men  from  all  walks  in  life 
entering  zealously  into  a  work  which  means  so  much 
for  their  spiritual  welfare. 

It  should  be  made  clear  that  retreats  offer  the 
same  advantages  to  the  laity  as  to  the  clergy,  and 
that   all,  whether   living   in   the   cloister   or   in   the 


world,    can    reap    immense    spiritual    fruit    from    a 
regular  course  of  spiritual  exercises. 

Spirituality  did  ever  choose  retirement.  That  is 
why  it  is  so  unattractive  to  the  worldly-minded. 
They  love  the  shout  and  bustle  of  the  crowd.  Their 
happiness  is  found  amid  the  excitement  of  public 
assemblies,  little  dreaming  at  what  cost  of  vitality 
and  nerve  power,  what  lowering  of  ideals,  what 
wallowing  in  shallow  mediocrity.  "Quiet  is  the 
element  of  wisdom;  the  calmest  man  is  the  wisest; 
for  the  mind  is  of  coral  stone,  around  which  thoughts 
cluster  silently  in  stillness,  but  are  scared  away  by 
tumult."    Need  we  wonder  that  life  at  times  becomes 

such  a  burden 
to  them?  Oh, 
if  they  but 
knew  the 
blessings  of 
a  retreat! 
How  they 
would  seek  its 
stillness  a  s 
the  very  balm 
of  their  souls! 
Its  attractions 
would  be  ir- 
resistible. 

The  most 
pressing  need 
of  the  Church 
i  n      America 

MEN'S   RETREAT  t0day    Is    men 

well  -  instruct- 
ed, well  trained  in  Catholic  truth  and  discipline — 

"Wanted!     Men! 

Not  wealth   in  mountain  piles, 
Not  pawn  with  gracious  smiles, 
Not  even  the  potent  pen : 
Wanted!    Men!" 

— Men  with  consciences  as  steady  as  the  needle 
to  the  pole;  men  who  will  stand  for  the  right  if  the 
heavens  totter  and  the  earth  reels;  men  in  whom 
the  courage  of  everlasting  life  still  runs  deep  and 
strong;  men  who  know  their  duty  and  attend  to  it; 
men  who  are  honest,  sound  from  centre  to  circum- 
ference, and  men  who  are  not  ashamed  to  say  "No" 
with  emphasis;  and  lastly,  trained  men,  imbued 
with  love  and  devotion  to  Holy  Mother  Church,  who 
will  reflect  the  beauty  of  the  Christian  character 
and  defend  her  in  the  arena  of  the  world. 


Childhood   Echoes  of  Nazareth 


Valerian  Didymus 


^w^E  have  often  seen  children  at  play.  Dur- 
j  ■  j  mS  these  cool,  bracing  days  of  autumn, 
V  M  J  we  see  them  frolicking  in  the  fields  and 
along  the  byways.  How  they  do  enjoy 
a  game  of  "Hide-and-seek".  What  fun  they  have 
following  one  another  through  the  piles  of  crisp, 
dry  leaves  that  lie  in  the  roadside  or  along  the 
rugged  path! 

And  yet  as  we  watched  the  children  at  play, 
did  the  thought  of  the  Child  Jesus  ever  enter  the 
mind?  Did  we  ever  try  to  picture  to  ourselves 
the  Holy  Child  in  the  fields  of  Nazareth,  playing 
with  other  little  children?  We  need  not  strain  the 
imagination,  nor  force  the  fancy.  We  need  only 
realize  the  truth  that  the  Savior  willed  not  only  to 
appear,  but  also  actually  to  be,  a  Child.  However 
it  may  have  been  with  His'  interior  life,  outwardly, 
at  least,  there  was  nothing  to  distinguish  Him  from 
the  children  among  whom  He  lived.  He  obeyed 
the  laws  of  childhood,  which  are  as  universal  as 
childhood  itself.  With  this  truth  before  our  mind, 
we  can  easily  imagine  the  Child  associating  with 
the  neighboring  children  and  joining  them  in  their 
childish  pastimes;  now  it  is  a  game  of  "Follow-the- 
Leader";  or  perhaps,  tired  of  that,  they  play  "Hide- 
and-seek."  Sometimes  the  Child  Jesus  gently,  and 
silently,  steps  behind  a  playmate  unawares,  and 
placing  His  hands  over  His  companion's  eyes,  asks, 
"Guess!    Who  it  is?" 

In  the  cool,  quiet  hour  of  the  morning,  the  Child 
often  gathers  the  few  crumbs  left  after  breakfast 
and  scatters  them  along  the  garden  walk  for  the 
birds  of  the  air  that  nestle  in  the  trees  above  Him. 
And  silently,  thoughtfully,  He  watches  these  little 
winged  creatures  eat  of  the  bread  He  gives 
them. 

And  can  we  not  see  the  Child,  in  the  soft, 
mellow  light  of  evening,  seated  on  the  doorstep 
of  the  cottage,  gazing  pensively  towards  the  distant 
hills?  See,  He  is  watching  the  flaming  sun  poise 
for  a  moment  above  the  high  hill  and  suffuse  its 
summit  with  crimson  hue.  His  countenance 
brightens  with  a  light  divine,  for  He  is  thinking  of 
the  Hill  of  Calvary.  Softly,  He  sighs:  "How  long, 
O  Father,  how  long!" 


When  the  years  of  manhood  came,  and  Jesus 
walked  among  men,  we  catch,  now  and  then,  echoes 
of  these,  His  childhood  days.  Once,  while  walking 
along  the  shores  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  He  saw 
certain  fishermen,  and  He  called  to  them :  "Follow 
Me!"  As  little  children,  they  promptly  followed 
the  Leader.  Another  time,  He  uttered  the  invita- 
tion: "Seek  and  you  shall  find!"  And  we  know 
how  His  disciples  would  seek  Him,  how  even  the 
little  children  sought  Him,  and  how  Mary  Magdalen 
went  in  search  of  Him, — and  found  Him!  How 
often  too,  did  He  approach  a  blind  man,  and  gently 
placing  His  hand  across  the  poor  man's  eyes,  ask: 
"Whom  do  you  say  I  am?"  Immediately  came  the 
answer  in  tones  of  surprise  and  child-like  faith: 
"Thou  art  the  Son  of  God." 

How  beautifully  He  pictured  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  as  a  great  sheltering  tree!  To  its  spreading 
branches,  the  souls  of  men  shall  wing  their  way, 
like  the  birds  of  the  air,  and  nestle  there,  in  peace 
and  rest, — those  souls  whom  He  loves  so  much  and 
whom  He  has  so  often  fed  with  the  Bread  of 
Angels. 

He  spoke  of  the  birds  of  the  air,  of  the  flowers 
of  the  fields,  and  even  of  the  downy  chicks  that 
snuggle  under  the  maternal  wing.  All  these  were 
the  friends  of  His  childhood  days. 

And  behold!  the  last  dying  echo  lingers  on  the 
Hill  of  Calvary  in  all  its  winning  charms  of  child- 
hood. For,  look  up  and  see  the  gentle  Savior,  dying 
on  the  Cross.  Wide  are  His  arms  outstretched,  and 
we  seem  to  hear  him  say :  "I  love  you  —  this 
much." 

To  the  children  of  God  is  it  given  to  continue 
the  sweet  echoes  of  the  Savior's  childhood,  not  only 
in  this  life,  but  even  for  all  eternity  in  Heaven. 
Christ  has  said:  "Unless  you  become  as  little 
children,  you  shall  not  enter  the  Kingdom  of  God." 
Hence,  as  little  children,  the  Blessed  in  Heaven 
gather  around  the  Throne  of  God,  and  looking  up 
into  His  Holy  Face,  they  cry:  "My  Father!";  and 
turning  towards  Mary  Immaculate,  they  exclaim: 
"My  Mother!"  These  are  the  sweetest,  the 
everlasting  echoes  of  the  childhood  days  at 
Nazareth. 


Archconfraternit))  of 


Advantages 


^-— -^HY  should  one  become  a  member  of  the 
j  I  j  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion?  Is  it 
\M/  worth  while?  Assuredly  it  is.  The 
numerous  benefits  bestowed  amply  com- 
pensate for  the  conditions  of  admission  and  for 
whatever  efforts  may  be  made  to  increase  true 
devotion  to  Christ's  Passion.  In  truth,  the  many 
advantages  of  membership  in  the  Archconfraternity 
of  the  Passion  should  appeal  to  every  man  and 
woman,  who  sincerely  desires  heavenly  riches,  the 
happiness  of  others,  and  personal  contentment  and 
peace. 

First,  there  are  indulgences  and  privileges 
which  have  been  granted  to  individual  members  by 
the  apostolic  letters  of  different  Popes,  and  especial- 
ly by  our  Holy  Father  Pope  Benedict  XV.  Next, 
there  are  benefits  springing  from  the  companionship 
offered  by  the  Archconfraternity,  such  as  good 
example,  encouragement,  and  assistance.  Finally, 
there  are  to  be  numbered  the  blessings  given  by  God 
to  parishes,  schools,  and  families,  wherever  the 
Archconfraternity  is  established  and  where  it  suc- 
cessfully accomplishes  its  great  mission  of  preaching 
Christ  Crucified. 

Consideration  of  these  favors  will  show  the 
value  of  membership,  and  at  the  same  time  make 
this  society  better  known  and  appreciated. 

The  innumerable  graces  received  by  members 
of  the  Archconfraternity  certainly  bring  home  the 
familiar  saying  that  God  will  never  be  outdone  in 
generosity.  For  as  the  Popes  from  time  to  time 
lavishly  adorned  this  society  with  the  gifts  of  the 
Church,  so  God  with  infinite  liberality  rewards  the 
members  for  their  faithful  remembrance  of  the 
Sacred  Passion,  and  for  persuading  people  to  think 
of  it. 

^XEFERRING  to  the  excellence  of  this  society, 
I^T  the  Sovereign  Pontiffs  point  out  the  principal 
divine  gifts  offered  to  members.  First  among 
them  is  knowledge.  That  the  apostle  St.  Paul  truly 
esteemed  this  grace  may  be  seen  from  his  claim: 
"I  know  nothing  among  you  but  Jesus  Christ  and 
Him  Crucified."     The  Angelic  Doctor,  St.  Thomas 


the   Sacred    P 


assion 


embership 


Acquinas,  attributed  all  his  learning  to  the  Crucifix. 
It  was  the  Science  of  the  Cross  which  inspired  the 
martyrs  in  their  heroism,  which  enlightened  the 
Fathers  and  Doctors  of  the  Church,  which  lured 
apostles  and  missionaries  from  home,  friends,  and 
country,  into  strange  uncivilized,  and  hostile  lands, 
to  make  known  the  love  and  power  of  the  Crucified. 
This  science  it  was  which  brought  the  saints  safely 
through  the  temptations  and  struggles  of  this  life 
to  everlasting  joy  and  heavenly  glory.  By  often 
thinking  of  Our  Lord's  sufferings,  by  reading  leaf- 
lets and  books  treating  of  the  Sacred  Passion,  by 
attending  the  sermon  and  devotions  at  Archconfra- 
ternity meetings,  members  advance  in  this  science 
and  imbibe  more  and  more  the  knowledge  of  the 
Cross  and  Passion  of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

The  virtue  of  fortitude  is  likewise  mentioned  as 
a  special  grace  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the 
Passion.  The  saints  kept  the  Crucifix  before  their 
eyes  that  so  they  might  be  strengthened  to  practice 
self-denial  and  to  suffer  all  things  with  humility  and 
obedience.  The  members  of  this  society  are  "armed 
with  the  same  thought,"  and  willingly  "choose  the 
cross,  despising  the  shame."  They  blend  their 
voices  with  the  chorus  of  the  militant  Church, 
exclaiming  "If  we  suffer  with  Christ,  we  shall  also 
be  glorified  with  Him." 

In  times  of  worry  and  doubt,  of  trouble  and 
discouragement,  of  disappointment  and  failure,  of 
humiliation  and  ingratitude,  of  sorrow  and  death, 
of  bodily  suffering  and  affliction,  members  of  the 
Archconfraternity  should  look  up  into  the  Face  of 
the  dying  Christ,  Who  will  remember  them,  comfort 
them,  strengthen  them,  and  give  them  patience, 
resignation,  and  peace.  In  a  word,  the  grace  of 
fortitude  enables  us  to  practice  the  lessons  of 
Calvary,  and  to  unite  our  sufferings  with  those  of 
Christ. 

Piety  is  another  grace  given  in  a  special  manner 
to  members  of  the  Archconfraternity.  It  is  the  gift, 
which  prompts  them  to  remember  devoutly  the 
Passon  of  Our  Lord,  and  to  imitate  Him  according 
to  their  strength.  Listen  to  St.  Paul  the  Apostle, 
who  possessed  this  grace :     "Christ  loved  me,  and 


THE  1"  SIGN 


delivered  Himself  up  for  me."  "Far  be  it  from  me 
to  glory,  save  in  the  Cross  of  Our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ."  St.  Peter  also  reminds  us  that  "Christ 
endured  the  Cross,  leaving  you  an  example  that 
you  should  follow  in  His  footsteps."  Such  words 
should  constitute  the  motto  of  every  member  of  the 
Archconfraternity.  The  more  interest  they  take  in 
the  society,  the  better  they  understand  every  motive 
for  detesting  sin  and  loving  meekness,  charity, 
modesty,  gratitude,  cheerfulness,  self  sacrifice,  and 
every  virtue  that  makes  this  life  happy  and  secures 
an  eternal  reward. 

y^^HE  Archconfraternity  then  is  a  fruitful  source 
^SJ  of  divine  blessings,  whereby  the  members 
learn  more  of  Our  Lord's  Passion,  and  how  to 
suffer  with  Him  and  to  walk  in  His  footsteps. 
To  obtain  these  graces,  it  is  certainly  worth  while 
joining  the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion. 

Our  enumeration  of  the  advantages  of  this 
society  would  be  very  long  if  all  the  indulgences 
were  enumerated,  which  the  members  may  secure 
for  themselves  and  for  the  souls  in  purgatory.  In 
the  month  of  February,  1918,  our  Holy  Father  Pope 
Benedict  XV.  confirmed  the  list  of  indulgences 
granted  by  his  predecessors  and  added  a  great 
many  others.  As  may  be  seen  in  the  manual  of  the 
Archconfraternity,  it  is  possible  for  the  members 
to  gain  a  plenary  indulgence  frequently  every  month 
on  the  usual  conditions  of  confession,  communion, 
and  some  prayer  for  the  Pope's  intentions.  They 
may  gain  a  plenary  indulgence  every  time  they 
piously  recite  the  Litany  of  the  Passion,  or  as  it  is 
also  called  the  Steps  of  the  Passion.  When  a  visit 
to  a  church  is  prescribed  as  one  of  the  conditions 
for  gaining  the  plenary  indulgence,  the  members 
may  substitute  five  Our  Fathers  and  five  Hail  Marys 
in  place  of  it.  Among  the  partial  indulgences,  the 
most  noteworthy  is  that  of  ninety  nine  years  for 
saying  the  Litany  of  the  Passion.  On  certain  days 
in  the  year,  when  the  Stations  or  particular  Churches 
in  Rome  are  venerated,  all  who  belong  to  the  Arch- 
confraternity receive  the  indulgence  of  thirty  years 
and  as  many  quarantines.  Seven  years  and  seven 
times  forty  days  are  granted  to  members  each  time 
they  are  present  at  the  monthly  meeting.  The  fact 
of  their  membership  entitles  them  to  forty  days 
indulgence  for  every  prayer,  for  every  act  of  piety, 


for  every  act  of  charity  towards  the  neighbor,  and 
especially  for  every  effort  made  by  word  or  example 
to  promote  devotion  to  the  Sacred  Passion.  Surely, 
in  view  of  all  this,  it  is  worth  while  becoming  a 
member  of  the  Archconfraternity. 

The  privileges  conceded  to  the  members  are 
exceptionally  great.  Admission  to  the  Archcon- 
fraternity entitles  members  to  share  in  Passionist 
missions,  retreats,  and  other  works  of  apostolic  zeal. 
Think  of  the  numerous  acts  of  worship  and  virtue 
performed  during  a  mission  or  retreat,  the  number 
of  careless  Catholics  brought  back  to  the  feet  of 
Jesus  Crucified  and  given  a  new  start,  the  many 
non-Catholics  received  into  the  true  fold  of  Christ, 
the  sacrifices  of  both  missionaries  and  people — to 
share  in  the  merit  of  all  these  works  is  the  privilege 
of  members  of  the  Archconfraternity.  Moreover, 
members  participate  in  the  Masses,  prayers,  and 
good  works  of  Passionist  Religious  throughout  the 
world.  They  are  likewise  beneficiaries  of  the  prayers, 
penances,  and  works  of  piety  and  zeal  of  Passionist 
Nuns,  and  of  the  other  branches  of  the  Archconfra- 
ternity. The  members  are  privileged  to  wear  the 
"Sign"  or  Scapular  of  the  Passion.  At  the  hour  of 
death,  a  member  may  receive  the  Papal  Blessing 
with  a  plenary  indulgence  from  the  Director  of  the 
Archconfraternity.  In  South  America,  the  Archcon- 
fraternity has  its  own  cemetery.  In  Ireland,  Scot- 
land, England,  Spain,  France,  Italy,  Belgium,  Hol- 
land, and  Australia,  there  are  privileges  enjoyed  by 
members,  which,  on  account  of  local  circumstances, 
render  the  Archconfraternity  one  of  the  most  desir- 
able of  all  societies.  The  rich  favors  granted  to 
members  in  these  United  States  should  convince 
every  American  Catholic  that  it  means  much  to 
belong  to  the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion. 

Though  many  appreciate  the  advantages  of 
membership  in  the  Archconfraternity,  the  impell- 
ing motive  ought  to  be  gratitude  to  Jesus  Crucified. 
His  Sacred  Passion  and  Death  means  the  redemp- 
tion of  every  soul,  reparation  for  the  sins  of  man- 
kind, and  reward  of  eternal  life.  God  has  granted 
innumerable  favors  to  His  creatures,  but  the  my- 
steries of  the  Passion  proclaim  more  than  anything 
else  His  infinite  love  and  generosity  to  them.  Apart 
then  from  the  advantages  one  may  gain  as  a  member 
of  the  Archconfraternity,  let  gratitude  be  the  reason 
for  the  most  active  interest  in  this  society. 


Index   to   Worthwhile   Reading 


SUPERNATURAL  MYSTICISM.  By  Rev. 
Benedict  Williamson.  St.  Louis:  B.  Herder  Co. 
Price  $2.75. 

The  title  given  to  this  book  describes  only  a 
part  of  it;  the  greater  portion  deals  with  the  ascetical 
life.  The  author  is  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
spirituality.  He  is  very  practical,  and  enriches  his 
teaching  with  the  most  impressive  word  or  deed  he 
may  chance  to  find  in  the  experience  of  favored 
souls.  He  brings  into  service  every  illustration  that 
will  render  clearer  and  more  appreciable  the  science 
of  the  saints.  Religious  communities  will  be  glad 
to  include  this  book  among  those  dealing  with  the 
obligations  of  their  state.  The  part  treating  of 
mysticism  reveals  the  mind  of  one  who  has  had 
considerable  experience  with  souls  devoted  to 
mystical  prayer.  The  Call  to  Contemplation,  given 
as  an  introduction  by  the  Bishop  of  Plymouth,  is  a 
gem  of  religious  literature. 


THE  WORD  OF  GOD.  By  Monsignor  F. 
Borgongini  Duca,  S.  T.  D.  Secretary  of  the  Congre- 
gation for  Extraordinary  Ecclesiastical  Affairs, 
Rome.  Translated  by  Rev.  Francis  J.  Spellman. 
Introduction  by  Most  Rev.  John  Bonzano,  D.  D., 
Apostolic  Delegate  at  Washington,  D.  C.  New 
York:     The  Macmillan  Co.     Price  $2.00. 

These  explanations  of  the  Holy  Gospel  were 
first  published  weekly  in  pamphlet  form  by  the 
Society  of  St.  Jerome  in  Rome.  The  author's  high 
reputation  for  scholarship  would  lead  the  reader 
to  expect  something  exceptionally  good  in  this 
most  recent  work,  and  we  are  in  no  sense  disappoint- 
ed. The  simplicity,  the  directness,  the  inspiring  tone 
of  these  treatises  exhibit  anew  the  great  attainments 
of  the  writer.  The  apposite  quotations  from  the 
Saints  and  Doctors  of  the  Church  as  well  as  the 
author's  own  erudition  make  this  book  a  very  help- 
ful commentary  on  the  Gospels  of  the  Sundays.  At 
the  conclusion  of  each  chapter,  we  find  an  appro- 
priate example  from  the  lives  of  the  Saints.  For 
the  sick  at  home  or  such  as  are  unable  to  be  present 
in  church  for  the  sermon  on  Sundays,  this  book,  the 
publishers  well  say,  will  prove  to  be  a  great  blessing. 
The  translation  has  been  exceptionally  well  done. 
We  think  that  a  lower  price  would  have  contributed 
largely  to  a  more  extensive  distribution  of  the 
book. 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  MYSTICAL  EXPERI- 
ENCE. By  Professor  John  Hawley,  M.  A.  St. 
Louis:     B.  Herder  Book  Co.     Price  $2.50. 

This  is  a  critical  study  of  mysticism,  or  rather 
of  the  psychic  phenomena  of  the  religious  life.  As 
a  philosophy  of  religious  experience,  we  venture  to 
say  it  is  one  of  the  best  books  on  the  subject.  Who- 
ever is  acquainted  with  the  philosophy  of  the 
Schools,  will  appreciate  and  carefully  study  this 
work.  Certainly  he  will  be  rewarded  with  a  new 
and  better  understanding  of  the  meaning  and  im- 
portance of  psychology.  The  author  never  wanders 
from  his  purpose,  and  while  serving  it  gives  the 
reader  clear-cut,  penetrating  views  of  the  separate 
workings  of  sense,  and  mind,  and  will.  He  is  forced 
to  deal  with  the  theories  of  agnostics.  For  instance 
we  find  a  critical  examination  of  the  subliminal  self 
of  Meyers,  and  the  field  of  the  subconscious  of 
James,  which  disposes  easily  of  the  findings  of  the 
new  psychology.  Clearness  never  fails  the  author, 
even  when  dealing  with  the  most  difficult  topics. 
He  brings  illustrations  to  his  aid — parables,  he  calls 
them, — which  prove  him  a  master  in  his  art.  As 
with  a  searchlight  he  illumines  the  path  leading  to 
a  complete  understanding  of  his  subject,  but  again 
and  again  he  draws  into  the  same  light  a  number  of 
cognate  subjects.  The  genesis  of  faith  is  masterful. 
A  philosophy  of  ascerticism  is  admirably  set  forth 
between  the  covers  of  this  book.  And  we  would  note 
especially  his  cameo  reference  to  the  Rosary.  This 
is  a  book  that  will  attain  its  place  as  a  classic, 
and  should  be  found  sooner  or  later  in  the  library 
of  every  thoughtful  man  and  woman. 

A  MOTHER'S  LETTERS..  A  Book  for  Young 
Women.  By  Father  Alexander,  C.  F.  M.  New 
York:     P.  J.  Kenedy  &  Sons,  $1.10. 

In  this  little  book  of  about  100  pages  we  have 
thirteen  letters  of  a  mother  to  her  daughter,  in  which 
she  imparts  needful  information  and  sage  counsel 
on  matters  of  sex.  There  is  no  dearth  of  books 
under  such  captions  as  "What  a  Young  Girl  should 
Know"  professing  to  give  sound  instructions  to 
adolescent  women.  Many  of  these  go  too  far  and 
set  forth  data  in  a  repulsive  manner;  others  fall  short 
and  are  obscure  and  insinuating.  Certain  authors 
are  not  above  the  suspicion  of  pandering  to  morbid 
curiosity,  thus  bidding  for  an  extensive  sale.     The 


THE  +  SIGN 


question  of  sex  is  a  difficult  one  to  broach.  It 
demands  tact,  wide  experience,  and  the  purest  of  mo- 
tives. All  these  requirements  Father  Alexander 
possesses  in  an  eminent  degree.  In  the  treatment 
of  this  most  delicate  of  questions  he  strikes  a  happy 
medium.  We  would  have  no  hesitation  in  putting 
his  book  into  the  hands  of  any  young  woman  in  the 
advanced  classes  of  college  or  convent.  In  his 
preface  the  author  quotes  from  a  personal  letter  of 
commendation  from  the  Most  Rev.  Thomas  White- 
side, late  Archbishop  of  Liverpool :  "I  have  care- 
fully read  your  booklet,  and  parts  of  it  I  have  read 
and  re-read. . .  As  far  as  my  opinion  is  of  any  value, 
I  think  you  have  said  neither  too  little  nor  two 
much  . . .  You  have  given  a  young  woman  what  was 
necessary  to  avoid  obscurity  and  further  question- 
ing. You  have  done  that  well. . .  .In  a  word,  I  think 
you  have  been  most  successful  in  treating  of  the 
whole  sex  question."  We  would  especially  recom- 
mend the  two  chapters  "A  'Real'  Woman"  and  "A 
Girl's  Future"  as  peculiarly  timely  and  helpful. 

CHILDREN  OF  GOD.  By  Mark  Moeslein, 
C.  P.  New  York :  The  C.  Wildermann  Co.  Price : 
cloth,  $1.25;  paper,  50c. 

Few  books  of  the  present  day  will  be  more 
welcome  to  the  general  reader  than  this  "summary 
of  Catholic  Doctrine  for  busy  people"  by  Father 
Moeslein.  A  glance  over  the  contents  might  lead 
one  to  suppose  it  was  an  enlargement  of  the  cate- 
chism; but  as  the  different  chapters  are  read,  one  is 
agreeably  surprised  by  the  way  the  author  presents 
the  subjects  with  which  we  thought  ourselves 
familiar,  and  when  reluctantly  the  book  is  closed, 
it  is  with  a  resolution  to  take  it  up  again  on  the 
first  opportunity.  There  are  many  books  which 
explain  and  defend  the  teaching  of  the  Church,  but 
this  work  of  Father  Moeslein  stands  out  among 
them  as  the  latest  proof  that  these  ancient  doctrines 
are  ever  new.  Certainly  it  will  be  welcome  not  only 
to  priests  and  the  laity,  but  will  interest  many  a 
non-Catholic,  who  desires  to  learn  what  Catholics 
believe  and  do. 

Throughout  the  book,  Father  Moeslein  keeps 
faithfully  and  interestingly  to  the  theme  that  all 
men  are  the  "Children  of  God."  He  treats  in  the 
opening  chapters  of  the  relationship  between  God 
and  men,  and  briefly  tells  us  what  religion  is,  the 


infinite  greatness  of  God,  the  mystery  of  the  Most 
Blessed  Trinity.  In  natural  order,  the  author 
describes  in  a  few  words  the  creation  of  the  angels, 
the  rebellion  of  the  devils,  and  then  the  world  and 
man.  He  writes  of  man,  first  as  a  creature  of  God 
and  then  as  an  adopted  child  of  God.  In  successive 
chapters,  the  author  continues  his  fascinating  story 
of  man's  trial,  his  sin  and  its  punishment.  The 
Redeemer  is  pictured  as  the  Savior  of  mankind,  as 
Man's  most  loving  brother,  and  his  greatest  friend 
and  benefactor.  We  read  in  detail  of  the  fruits  of 
Christ's  love  for  men,  especially  the  establishment 
of  the  Church  and  the  institution  of  the  Sacraments. 
The  author  brings  his  admirable  work  to  an  end 
with  short  chapters  on  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  com- 
munion of  saints,  and  life  after  death.  The  con- 
clusion offers  a  rule  of  life  for  the  children  of 
God. 

In  these  pages,  controversy  seems  to  have  been 
carefully  avoided.  We  find  nothing  in  the  work  that 
would  in  any  sense  antagonize  the  reader;  on  toe 
contrary,  Catholic  doctrine  is  explained  in  a  simple 
attractive  manner  that  appeals  directly  to  those 
already  familiar  with  it,  and  persuasively  to  such  as 
know  little  about  it.  It  is  a  book  that  we  believe 
will  accomplish  much  good.  As  a  drop  of  dew  on  a 
blade  of  grass  glistens  like  a  diamond  in  the  morn- 
ing sun-light,  we  may  say  this  work  will  appear  to 
many  as  a  clear  brilliant  reflection  of  the  sun  of 
truth.  Moreover,  its  convenient  size,  its  brevity, 
its  suggestiveness,  its  completeness  makes  it  a  book 
that  can  be  read  and  read  again  with  pleasure  and 
profit. 

Many  "not  of  the  one  fold"  are  anxiously  look- 
ing for  a  book  of  this  kind.  They  know  something 
about  Catholicism,  but  their  knowledge  is  far  from 
complete:  sometimes,  at  least,  it  is  more  mis- 
understanding than  ignorance  that  keeps  them  from 
becoming  loyal  children  of  the  true  Church.  They 
hesitate  to  ask  questions  of  their  Catholic  neighbors; 
and  often  Catholics  neglect  seasonable  opportunities 
to  make  the  Church's  teaching  better  known.  Father 
Mark  Moeslein's  book  will  help  the  Catholic  to  give 
information  to  those  who  desire  it,  and  Non-Catho- 
lics will  be  delighted  to  get  such  knowledge  in  this 
easy  practical  way.  If  you  secure  one  copy  of  this 
book,  it  is  safe  to  say  you  will  obtain  more  for  your 
friends  and  neighbors. 


To-night  the  sun  spills  blood  upon  the  trees, — 
On  oak  and  cedar  and  on  the  olives,  too; 
On  shrubs  that  shrank  for  pain,  as  He  did  pass, 
On  xOillow-lea-Oes  that  w"eep  to-night  anew. 

Here,  haply,  His  faint  Feet  pressed  throbbing  earth, 
And  here,  beside  this  rock,  He  knelt  Him  dovJn, 
Whose  Eyes  saw  death  before  Him  from  His  birth, 
Here,  haply,  grew"  the  flower  that  kissed  His  gown. 

A  timid  wind  of  dusk  steals  through  the  trees. — 
O  winds  of  all  the  w"orld,  ye  know  His  Name! 
O  Breeze  of  Olivet,  what  memories 
You  wear,  of  agony  and  death  and  shame! 

Here  blows  a  crimson  berry, — lo,  His  Eyes, 
Perhaps,  grew  tender  here, — He  loved  all  things; 
So  berries  blush,  and  ^)et  from  Paradise 
Went  forth  His  Father's  help  on  angels'  v?ings. 

Here  fell  His  tears — that  precious  flood — for  Man. 
To-night  the  birds  are  hushed,  as  if  they  keep 
The  rite  of  silence  of  an  ancient  clan, 
Along  these  sacred  avenues  of  sleep. 

In  all  the  gardens  of  the  world  no  flower 

Has  blossomed,  nor  shall  bloom,  as  on  the  night 

The  Son  of  God  came  to  His  passion-hour, 

With  burning  love  for  men  in  meekest  might.  .  .  . 

Nov?  fades  the  West  in  deepening  screens  of  rose. 
Oak,  cedar  and  olive-trees  sink  off  to  rest; 
The  flowers  fold, — the  day  winds  to  its  close, 
Here  where  He  prayed  and  bared  His  bleeding  breast. 


;u! vli X\u Xu\ un  a fi Tu. x~u  \'\  :•  n 7-7. T'~\  :{\  ;•'?,  M,  ;■?.  :•?.  ;•"■".  :"■  ■."':"■  ■-.■■.-.■   "■  ■':".:■":' 


Some   Pilgrim   Shrines  in   Spain 


Thomas  Walsh 


"^^^^HE  shrines  of  Spain! — their  story  embraces 
#  Cj  the  entire  history  of  the  Spanish  people 
^^^^  from  Isadore  and  Pelayo  down  to  the 
wonders  of  Limpias  of  today.  In  fact  the 
whole  race  may  be  said  to  be  the  expression  of  the 
crusader  influence,  that  expelled  the  Moors  in  the 
name  of  Santiago  the  Apostle-Saint  of  Campostela, 
that  purified  monastic  life  in  the  cloisters  of  Teresa 
of  Avila  and  John  of  the  Cross,  that  made  the  guide- 
books of  Spain  one  long  litany  of  saints,  that  made 
the  daughters  of  the  race  the  servants  at  the  shrines 
of  their  patrons  the  Virgins  of  Esperanza,  Consuelo, 
Mercedes,  Angustias,  Regla,  Dolores,  Nieves,  Luz, 
Asumpta,  Natividad,  Piedal,  and  Rosario, — qualify- 
ing in  every  way  to  make  Southern  Spain  the  "Land 
of  Santa  Maria"  and  the  kingdom  of  the  Philips  the 
Catholic  Majesty  of  the  world. 

To  begin  with  Santiago,  the  earliest  of  the 
shrines  in  its  lofty  mountains  at  Compostela  where 
they  found  his  grave  in  the  ninth  century  and 
whence  he  issued  forth  in  no  less  than  thirty-eight 
battles  to  conquer  the  Moors,  and  become  the 
palladium  and  patron-saint  of  the  Spanish  race. 
Miss  King  in  her  "Way  of  Saint  James"  (Three 
volumes  The  Hispanic  Society  1921)  tells  the  whole 
story  fully  and  leads  the  pilgrim  along  the  ancient 
roads  once  guarded  by  the.  Knights  of  Santiago  and 
trodden  by  Saints  like  Simeon  and  Theobald,  Domi- 
nic and  Francis  of  Assisi,  Brigitta  of  Sweden  and 
Elizabeth  of  Portugal,  and  monarchs  and  heroes 
like  Ferdinand  I.,  Alfonse  VI.,  Richard  Lion-heart, 
and  My  Cid  Ruy  Diaz.  It  is  a  far  shrine  and  dif- 
ficult of  approach;  but  between  the  years  1397  and 
1457  nearly  eight  thousands  pilgrims  came  from 
England  and  Ireland,  and  in  1589  Elizabeth's  free- 
booter, Francis  Drake,  came  over  swearing  to  burn 
the  relics,  which  were  hidden  away  so  carefully 
that  they  were  not  rediscovered  until  1879.  There 
is  here  a  whole  literature  and  a  magnificent  epopee 
for  the  student,  as  well  as  a  golden  opportunity  for 
the  artist  and  architect. 

The  pilgrimage  to  Saragossa  is  another  event 
that  will  charm  the  pious  traveller,  after  he  has 
overcome  the  difficulty  of  pronouncing  the  name  of 
the  city  in  the  Spanish  manner, — Zaragoza, — and 
has  managed  to  get  through  the  crowds  that  assem- 


ble here  for  the  feast  of  Our  Lady  of  the  Pillar 
on  October  12th.  Saragossa  is  familiar  to  most  of 
us  as  the  scene  of  terrible  warfare  in  the  past, 
ferociously  resisting  Moors  and  French  invaders 
"to  the  knife"  and  "to  the  last  ditch"  as  their  own 
expression  first  put  it.  Women  bore  a  noble  part  in 
all  their  patriotic  risings,  so  it  was  no  surprise  to 
meet  in  Rome  during  the  Pontificate  of  Leo  XIII 
the  large  body  of  noblewomen  from  Saragossa 
bringing  the  diamond  crowns  for  the  Pope's  blessing. 
Santiago  or  Saint  James,  on  his  mission  through 
Spain  is  said  to  have  had  a  vision  of  the  Blessed 
Mother  and  child  standing  on  an  "immovable  pillar" 
of  marble.  Today  in  the  ancient  shrine  of  almost 
unbelievable  splendors  we  find  the  little  wooden 
image  representing  this  vision,  crowned  with  the 
diamond  crowns,  and  half  hidden  by  the  silver  lamps 
and  grates  of  the  altar.  Below  is  a  small  aperture 
where  the  pilgrims  may  place  their  lips  against  this 
very  holy  stone.  It  is  one  of  the  greatest  shrines 
in  all  the  world;  and  the  proud  modern  city  that 
flourishes  around  it  is  haughty  in  calling  itself  the 
"City  del  Pilar." 

XT  is  the  little  personal  happenings  that,  after 
all,  seem  to  signify  the  most  to  our  memories, 
and  the  accidents  that  occur  to  us  take  on 
particular  light  or  shadow  with  the  flight  of  time. 
I  remember  once  a  few  years  ago,  in  sauntering 
through  the  narrow  streets  of  Valencia  at  twilight, 
that  magic  hour  of  poets  and  lovers,  I  noticed  a 
large  number  of  fine  equipages  drawn  up  before  a 
chapel  and  hundreds  of  ladies  and  gentlemen  enter- 
ing and  issuing  through  the  doors.  A  soft  illumi- 
nation tempted  me  to  enter  in  spite  of  the  rather 
private  character  of  the  gathering  and  I  was  sur- 
prised to  find  myself  standing  in  a  circulating  crowd 
of  black  robed  figures  apparently  engaged  in  soft 
conversation. 

It  was  obviously  the  great  world  of  Valencia 
engaged  at  one  of  its  social  rites  and  the  chapel — 
for  so  it  proved — took  on  the  character  of  some  con- 
vent parlor  on  a  graduation  day.  Thousands  of 
candles  hung  high  in  the  beautiful  vaulting;  some 
of  the  visitors  endeavored  with  difficulty  to  kneel  on 
the  crowded  pavement:  looking  up  to  a  lofty  arch, 
I  discovered  the  handsome  figure  of  Our  Lady  of 


THE  f  SIGN 


Sorrows,  whom  they  apparently  regarded  as  their 
hostess  for  their  quaint  and  lovely  ceremony.  She 
was  robed  in  the  stiff  black  velvets  of  the  17th 
century  and  after  I  had  come  away  from  the  scene 
in  a  state  of  dreamy  pleasure  and  confusion,  I  dis- 
covered that  I  had  visited  the  shrine  of  Our  Lady 
de  les  Desamparados,  or  "The  Forsaken"  which 
had  been  founded  in 
1410  by  their  own 
Pedro  de  Luna,  the 
Anti-Pope  Benedict 
XIII.  It  was  all  so 
gentle,  so  human  and 
reverent,  that  the  in- 
fluence of  it  remains 
with  me  in  every  esti- 
mate I  make  of  Span- 
ish character  and  cul- 
ture. The  "Patroness 
of  the  Forsaken"  has 
become  the  devotion 
of  the  best  that  there 
is  in  Valencia. 

Another  odd  ad- 
venture was  our  arri- 
val at  the  city  of 
Burgos  at  three  o'clock 
one  winter  morning; 
we  had  taken  the 
principal  train  from 
Madrid  the  evening 
before  and  planned 
to  retire  for  a  few 
hours'  sleep  on  arriv- 
ing at  the  hotel.  We 
quarrelled  all  along 
the  journey,  as  tired 
travellers  have  always 
been  known  to  do,  and 
what  was  our  chagrin 
to  find  that  on  reach- 
ing the  hotel  it  was 
necessary  for  us  to  wait  while  they  roused  the 
chambermaid  from  bed,  and  sent  for  fresh  linen. 
By  the  time  it  arrived  we  were  ready  to  sally  forth 
for  the  first  masses  in  the  Cathedral.  One  should 
always  get  up  early  to  appreciate  an  ancient 
structure,  to  get  the  flavor  of  devotion,  and  self- 
sacrifice,  coming  almost  like  the  breath  of  the  stone 
vaults  and  funeral  monuments.  The  glories  of 
Burgos  are  for  other  pages  and  volumes;  we  in  our 


THE    CHRIST    OF 
In  the  Church  of  Sar, 


little  sketch  upon  our  experiences  at  Spanish  shrines 
have  only  time  to  turn  into  the  chapel  where  at 
present  they  preserve  the  strange  old  cross  known 
as  the  "Most  Holy  Christ  of  Burgos."  As  early  as 
it  was,  there  were  two  little  urchins  with  tousled 
heads  wide  awake  to  quarrel  furiously  over  the  right 
to  escort  us  through  the  chapels,  until  a  very  grim 
old  sacristan  arrived, 
and,  with  a  cuff  to  the 
right  and  a  cuff  to  the 
left,  gave  Solomon's 
judgment  equally  to 
both,  and  himself 
carried  us  off  as  guide. 

y^=^HE  importance 
{^J  of  the  Most 
Holy  Christ  of 
Burgos  can  be  gather- 
ed in  the  fact  that 
from  primitive  times 
the  cathedral  was 
called  the  "Cruci- 
ficio,"  was  a  famous 
place  of  pilgrimage 
and  miracles  that  at 
present  seem  to  have 
declined.  The  cruci- 
fix seems  to  have  suf- 
fered in  the  course  of 
time,  for  it  was  once 
famous  for  its  beauty 
and  lifelikeness.  The 
tradition  is  that  it  is 
formed  of  the  real 
skeleton  of  a  man  and 
covered  with  dried 
human  skin  and  at 
one  time  the  head  was 
movable.  We  may 
gather  the  extent  of 
its  fame  as  a  wonder- 
working image  from  the  three  ostrich-eggs — em- 
blems of  immortality — the  gift,  it  is  said,  of  some 
Negus  of  Abyssinia  during  the  Middle  Ages. 

There  are  two  recollections  of  our  visits  to 
Seville  that  return  with  unusual  clearness,  one  con- 
cerned with  "Our  Lady  of  the  Kings"  and  the  other 
with  the  "Christ  of  Great  Power." 

Over  the  altar  of  the  Capilla  Real,  above  the 
tombs  of  King  Alfonso  the  Learned  (D.1284)   and 


GREAT    POW 

Lorenzo  at  Sev 


THE  t  SIGN 


Saint  Ferdinand  (D.1252)  there  stands  one  of  the 
holiest  images  of  Spain,  the  "Virgin  de  los  Reyes," 
a  figure  designed  in  the  thirteenth  century  and  said 
to  have  been  presented  to  the  King  Saint  Ferdinand 
by  the  King  Saint  Louis  of  France.  The  figure  is 
shown  only  on  rare  occasions,  like  that  of  November 
23rd,  when  the  troops  renew  their  oaths  of  service 
as  they  march  past  with  lowered  colors.  It  is  richly 
clothed  and  has  removable  golden  hair  and  priceless 
lace.  Its  feet  are  adorned  with  slippers  bearing  the 
fleur  de  lis  and  the  word 
"Amer."  In  the  shops 
you  have  frequently 
noticed  little  shoes  of 
silver:  they  are  facsimiles 
of  those  worn  by  the  In- 
fant-Christ and  are  pre- 
cious gifts  for  any  baby 
in  Seville.  The  evening 
after  I  had  seen  this  image 
I  was  strolling  through 
the  quieter  streets  of  the 
city  and  entering  a  little 
square  I  was  suddenly 
confronted  by  an  image 
four  times  lifesize,  model- 
led after  Our  Lady  of  the 
Kings,  enthroned  in  front 
of  a  renaissance  church, 
whose  splendor  seemed 
quite  out  of  keeping  with 
the  humble  quarter.  The 
square  was  entirely  de- 
serted: the  only  orna- 
ments were  two  vases  of 
artificial  flowers.  (Here 
I  would  note  that  in 
countries  where  flowers 
are  so  common  as  in  Spain,  the  use  of  artificial 
flowers  denotes  special  honor,  as  natural  flowers 
have  lost  some  of  their  preciousness  through  their 
abundance).  I  was  alone  in  the  twilight  with  this 
archaic,  giant  Madonna.  Nobody  came  to  watch 
the  image;  all  Seville  was  at  its  supper.  The  silver 
and  laces  were  of  the  highest  values  and  only  the 
stars  over  the  square  of  San  Salvador  kept  guard 
on  the  Royal  Madonna  and  Child  until  the  morning. 
It  was  a  perfect  night  and  in  memory  I  can  hear  the 
low  gurgle  of  the  fountains  and  the  occasional 
swishing  of  the  palm-trees,  and  scent  the  heavy 
odors  of  the  roses  in  the  hidden  patios  in  every 
house  around. 


OUR    LADY 
Patrones 


XT  was  on  another  visit  to  the  "Pearl  of  Anda- 
lusia," as  they  with  great  justice  call  their 
Seville,  that  at  the  close  of  the  processions 
that  had  continued  for  three  days  and  nights,  in 
utter  weariness  of  ceremonies  and  gorgeousness,  I 
suggested  to  my  Sevillian  friends  that  it  was  time  to 
retire,  only  to  be  met  with  a  violent  protest,  that 
we  had  not  done  honor  to  the  "Christ  of  Great 
Power." 

We  made  our  way  to  the  restaurants  crowded 
with  people  waiting  like 
ourselves  for  the  Sodali- 
ties de  la  Madrugada, 
or  Day  back.  The  night 
wears  on  frigidly  and  a 
full  moon  struggles  with 
the  clouds  for  a  view  of 
Seville  at  its  doleful  cele- 
bration. Good  Friday  is 
dawning;  at  two  in  the 
morning  we  must  witness 
the  coming  forth  from 
the  Colegiaia  of  San 
Lorenzo,  of  the  most  in- 
spired work  of  the  sculp- 
tor Montanes — Our  Father 
Jesus  of  Great  Power — 
bearing  the  Cross  crusted 
with  exquisite  gold  and 
robed  in  velvets  and  bul- 
lion beyond  the  dream  of 
kings.  A  hundred,  or  so, 
people  are  drowsing  in 
the  little  white  plaza  when 
at  last  the  low  doors  of 
the  church  swing  silently 
of  sorrows  open  and  a  procession  of 

of  Granada  ,.T  ,  ,        ., 

Nazarenos  or  lay-brothers, 
files  forth  into  the  gray  chill  of  the  morning.  An 
enormous  float  of  silver  with  urns,  garlands  and 
huge  lanterns  more  beautiful  than  any  that  ever 
floated  on  a  lagoon  of  Venice,  dips  from  under  the 
door-shaft  and  slowly  approaches  us.  In  the  droop 
of  the  beautiful  figure  there  is  something  strangely 
poignant;  the  face  and  head  under  the  crown  of 
thorns  are  the  very  ideal  of  divine  grief  and  suffer- 
ing,— a  characteristic  that  endears  the  "Christ  of 
Great  Power"  to  the  hearts  of  all  Seville.  As  it 
comes  forth  a  long  murmur  of  "Ay,"  Alas!  runs 
over  the  scattered  groups  and  several  voices,  almost 
in  rivalry,  break  out  in  singing  from  the  street  and 
neighboring    balconies. 


THE  t  SIGN 


And  so  it  was  that  followed  by  the  lovely  velvet- 
robed  image  of  "Mary  Most  Holy  of  Greater  Grief 
and  Anguish"  the  doleful  Christ  of  Seville  under  His 
golden  cross  goes  on  His  way  at  daybreak. 

There  is  so  much  to  be  studied  in  a  voyage  through 
such  a  country  as  Spain  that  after  a  while  the  mind 
grows  weary  of  details  and  yearns  for  the  fresh  im- 
pression of  the  sights  one  is  witnessing.  This  is 
particularly  the  case  in  a  city  like  Granada  where 
history  has  left  so  many  marks  that  are  important. 
In  fact  the  period  of  the  Spanish  renaissance  may 
point  to  Granada  as  its  birthplace,  on  the  day  when 
Boabdil  wept  his  historic 
tears,  and  left  Ferdinand 
and  Isabella  in  undis- 
puted possession  of  the 
whole  Peninsula.  It  is 
curious  that  the  great 
throngs  of  North  Ameri- 
can tourists  who  daily 
pour  in  and  out  of  Gra- 
nada never  seem  to  realize 
that  in  their  abbreviated 
devotion  to  the  Moor  and 
his  Alhambra  they  are 
neglecting  one  of  the  most 
interesting  cities  of  Eu- 
rope, the  creation  of  the 
earliest  conquistadors  and 
the  finest  example  of 
Spanish  art  in  its  best 
period.  Wearied  of  guides 
and  guidebooks  I  had  gone 
to  explore  the  crowded 
residential  parts  of  Gra- 
nada, visiting  churches 
without  asking  their 
names,  seeing  a  thousand 
things  never  recorded  by  the   most  holy 

any  tourist-agent.  I  came  in  this  manner  into  a 
little  parish-church,  richly  decorated  enough,  but 
evidently  still  a  place  of  prayer  avoided  by  the  tip- 
gathering  tribe,  not  a  museum,  but  a  church  of  God. 
It  was  dark  and  very  faintly  lighted  only  from  the 
clerestory,  so  all  was  mystery  and  charm  around  the 
high  altars.  There  was  one  other  occupant  of  the 
church  besides  myself,  an  old  lady  in  black  who 
ceased  her  devotions  for  a  while  to  watch  me  with 
such  evident  curiosity  that  I  began  to  think  that  she 
either  suspected  me  to  be  a  sneakthief  or  a  person 
who  could  be  watched  with  profit.   I  dodged  behind 


the  columns  only  to  find  that  she  had  shifted  her 
little  hand-stool  to  a  position  from  which  she  might 
still  observe  me.  From  right  to  left  I  tried  to  outflank 
her  but  in  vain.  The  rosary  ran  swiftly  through  her 
fingers,  her  lips  muttered  prayers,  but  her  eyes  fol- 
lowed the  tourist  who  without  his  Baedecker  guide 
had  wandered  into  her  parish  church.  Tiring  at 
last  of  diplomatic  manoeuvring  I  turned  to  genu- 
flect before  leaving  the  church,  whereupon  the  old 
lady  rose  and  with  a  confused  gathering  up  of 
prayerbooks,  rosaries  and  campstool,  she  inter- 
cepted me  at  the  door,  seized  me  by  the  elbow 
and  forcibly  detained  me 
while  with  one  hand  she 
gesticulated  wildly,  point- 
ing toward  the  roof  above 
the  high-altar.  As  I 
could  not  understand  at 
that  time  a  word  that  she 
was  saying  I  made  up  my 
mind  that  there  must  be 
some  answer  to  the  prob- 
lem and  permitted  her  to 
lead  me  back  to  the  sa- 
cristy where  at  the  open 
door  she  hailed  a  young 
man,  a  member  of  the 
brotherhood,  very  much  in 
undress  in  a  thread- 
bare soutane,  and  gave  me 
a  sign  to  follow  him. 
There  upon  she  disap- 
peared forever. 

The  young  brother 
without  a  word  led  me 
up  a  little  winding  stair- 
way to  a  platform  above 
the  archway  of  the  high 
hrist  of   burgos  altar   and   merely  with   a 

complacent  gesture  folded  his  arms  before  an 
exquisite  tomb  of  bronze  and  marble.  It  was  the 
holy  of  holy  places  of  Granada;  unmentioned  as  I 
later  found,  in  the  guidebooks,  the  tomb  of  Saint 
John  of  God,  and  that  dear  old  lady,  whom  I  had 
suspected  of  lunacy  and  all  kinds  of  viciousness, 
after  having  recognized  me  as  a  "northern  Christian" 
had  resolved  that  I  should  not  overlook  the  tomb  of 
her  favorite  saint.  I  bless  her  still  in  memory  for 
her  kindness  to  her  foreign  brother  and  I  pray  that 
her  years  may  be  happy  in  the  lovely  shrine  in  the 
heart  of  old  Granada  under  the  relics  of  her  great 
fantastic    Saint    (1495-1550)    the    founder   of    the 


THE  +  SIGN 


Brothers  of  Charity,  de  los  Hospitalarios,  canonised 
in  1690. 


X 


T  was  in  the  same  city  of  Granada  on  another 

day    I    turned    into 

a  large  church  to 
avoid  the  begging  and 
importunities  of  a  crowd 
of  young  men,  who  for  a 
few  cents  would  agree  to 
provide  me  with  all  the 
amusements  of  Granada 
from  the  shrines  of  the 
saints  to  the  cave  of  the 
gypsies.  To  my  surprise 
they  folowed  me  into  the 
church  still  whispering 
their  propositions  when 
suddenly,  in  the  midst  of 
the  worst,  they  one  and  all 
fell  upon  their  knees,  and 
gazing  above  the  altar  I 
saw  a  splendid  camarin, 
or  dais,  holding  a  large 
image  of  Our  Lady  of 
Sorrows.  She  is  seated 
beneath  a  lovely  orna- 
mented cross  under  a  great 
aureole  and  a  heavy  silver 
crown;  her  face  with  the 
expression  of  an  over- 
whelming grief  is  sur- 
rounded by  a  ruching  of 
lace  in  the  Polish  manner; 
her  breast  is  built  up  into 
the  lines  cultivated  in  the 

sixteenth  century  and  crusted  with  superb  diamonds. 
A  cloak  of  black  velvet  falls  over  her  shoulders;  it 
is  embroidered  in  pure  gold  in  a  style  that  suggests 


OUR    LADY 
Photograph  authorized  by 


the  design  of  what  we  call  the  Napoleonic  era — 
for  the  present  arrangement  of  the  image  dates 
from  1742.  Across  the  knees  is  an  ancient  wooden 
statue  of  Christ  taken  down  from  the  cross,  with 
His  shoulders  covered 
with  some  laces  which  I 
later  learned,  were  consi- 
dered priceless.  A  strange 
decoration  was  the  cere- 
monial walking  stick  of 
some  famous  personage, 
general  or  governor,  left 
in  tribute  to  the  Patroness 
of  Granada,  Our  Lady  de 
las  Angustias.  When  I 
saw  the  crowd  of  young 
gypsies  and  chulos  caught 
thus  by  the  presence  of 
their  Madonna  I  quietly 
made  my  escape  and 
reached  the  Alameda  un- 
molested. It  was  thus  I 
made  my  first  visit  to  the 
very  holy  shrine  of  Our 
Lady  of  Sorrows,  the  most 
revered  spot  in  Granada. 
One  could  go  on  for 
volumes  in  recording  the 
shrines  of  Spain,  the  cha- 
pels to  miracle-working 
crucifixes,  the  Madonnas 
of  the  warriors  and  kings, 
the  holy  banners  of  an- 
cient battlefields ;  but 
enough  is  a  feast,  and 
leaving  Monserrate  and 
Guadalupe,  and  Avila  and  Manresa  for  another  time, 
we  wish  our  reader  a  pleasant  journey  when  he 
starts  out  in  person  for  the  Shrines  of  Spain. 


DEL     PILAR 
the  Most  Reverend  Chap! 
ragossa 


A    Late-Autumn    Reverie 

COLMAN  LADD 


Keen  is  the  quiet  air 
In  the  autumn  gloaming; 
Southward  across  the  sky 
Wild-birds  are  homing; 
Leafless  the  gnarled  boughs 
ThWart  the  Western  glare, 
Like  arms  of  sinking  men 
Clutching  the  air. 


Starts  not  a  katydid 
From  a  leafy1  bower: 
Nor  from  a  pond-tuft  green 
Croaks  a  frog  the  hour; 
Earth  has  no  lovliness: 
Husked  is  vale  and  lea; 
Freer  my  soul  may*  rise 
To  Thee,  God,  to  Thee! 


The   Disarmament   Conference   and   Its   Obstacles 


John  McGuinness 


"^^^^HE  eyes  of  the  world  have  turned  from 
m  C]  Versailles  to  Washington  where  the  Dis- 
^^^V  armament  Conference  meets  on  Armistice 
Day.  This  is  not  a  conference  to  disarm 
the  world  as  some  may  take  from  the  name,  but  a 
conference  to  consider  the  limitation  of  armament 
with  a  view  to  establishing  universal  peace. 

Limitation  of  armament  is  not  a  new  idea.  It 
rtas  been  suggested  before. 
It  is  embodied  in  Article 
VIII  of  the  League  of 
Nations  wherein  the  re- 
duction of  armament  to 
the  lowest  possible  point 
is  clearly  recognized  as 
the  one  great  essential 
factor  in  preserving  uni- 
versal  peace.  With 
America  possessing  the 
bulk  of  the  world's  gold, 
a  greater  amount  of  muni- 
tions than  the  other 
nations,  and  in  a  position 
to  exceed  England's  navy 
in  two  years,  it  would  be 
futile  for  the  members  of 
the  League  to  attempt  a 
plan  of  limitation  of  arma- 
ment so  long  as  America 
remained   out. 

The  peoples  of  the 
world  were  told  by  their 
leaders,  some  of  whom 
will  sit  in  the  Disarma- 
ment Conference,  that  the 
late    war   was    waged    to 

abolish  secret  diplomacy;  to  preserve  democracy; 
to  guarantee  the  rights  of  small  nations;  and  to 
destroy  militarism.  It  accomplished  none  of  these 
ideals.  A  review  of  the  budgets  and  proposed  mili- 
tary and  naval  programs  indicates  that  militarism 
has  conquered  instead  of  being  conquered.  The  fact 
is  that  England,  America  and  Japan  are  engaged  in 
a  concealed  rivalry  in  naval  and  air  craft  con- 
struction. 

For  the  year  ending  June  30,  1920,  America 
spent  about  ninety-two  cents  out  of  every  dollar  of 
taxation   for  war   purposes.     The   expenditure   for 


nnHE  Disarmament  Conference — a  meet- 
-*■       ing  of  representatives  from  the  fore- 


most governments  of  the  world  — 
summoned  by  President  Harding,  opens  in 
Washington  on  Armistice  Day..  The  avowed 
purpose  of  the  Conference  is  the  reduction 
in  naval  and  military  expenditures,  that  so 
the  crushing  weight  of  taxation  may  be 
lifted  from  the  already  overburdened 
shoulders  of  impoverished  peoples.  With 
this  aim  all  Americans  are  in  full  accord. 
Mr.  McGuinness  briefly  sets  down  some  of 
the  problems  to  be  faced  and  solved  if  the 
Conference  is  to  attain  its  purpose..  A 
realization  of  these  problems  will  help  to 
an  appreciation  of  the  difficulties  confront- 
ing our  Chief  Executive,  will  temper  delus- 
ive over-confidence,  and  will  preclude  a 
reactive  depression — The  Editors. 


military  and  naval  purposes  from  June  1920  to  June 
1921  amounted  to  $825,337,939. 

While  the  Borah  resolution  does  not  commit 
America  beyond  the  calling  of  the  conference,  the 
object  of  the  conference  is  to  destroy  the  weapons 
of  war  through  international  agreement,  to  remove 
the  causes  and  possibilities  of  war,  principally 
economic,  and  to  find  a  plan  whereby  international 
capital  can  be  invested 
and  raw  materials  obtain- 
ed without  resorting  to  the 
costly  and  destructive 
method  of  war.  In  this, 
America  should  assume 
the  lead. 

But  the  obstacles  to 
be  overcome  are  so  com- 
plex and  far  reaching  as 
to  make  achieved  results 
almost  impossible.  Con- 
sider, for  instance,  the 
conflicting  interests  in  the 
Pacific  and  Far  East, 
where  the  nations  must 
turn  for  trade. 


w 


APAN  enters  the 
conference  suspici- 
ous that  England 
and  America,  the  domi- 
nating white  nations,  may 
be  allied.  Both  have  in- 
terests in  the  Pacific. 
Japan  came  out  of  the 
war  stronger  and  richer 
than  before  she  entered.  Will  she  willingly  give 
up  the  Island  of  Yap?  Will  she  forego  her  hold 
on  Shantung?  Will  she  evacuate  Korea?  It  is  just 
possible  that  Japan  in  justifying  her  policy  will 
parallel  it  with  that  of  the  United  States  toward 
Mexico  and  the  Central  and  the  South  American 
Republics.  Such  a  stand  on  the  part  of  Japan, 
strongly  and  persistently  pressed,  would  constitute 
a  serious  obstacle  in  reaching  an  agreement  on  a 
limitation  of  armament. 

Will  Japan  insist  upon  race  equality,  the  right 
for  her  people  to  own  land  in  California  and  to  colon- 


THE  1*  SIGN 


ize  in  Mexico,  South  America  and  Australia?  She 
is  a  very  prolific  nation  and  must  have  an  outlet 
for  her  overflow  population.  Japan  can  be  relied 
upon  to  press  such  vital  domestic  questions  to 
advantage  should  the  situation  require  it.  Her 
delegates  will  stand  firm  and  refuse  to  make  a 
reduction  in  armament  which  she  is  fast  acquiring 
unless  granted  equal  concessions. 

What  of  England,  she  too  has  great  interests 
in  the  Pacific  and  Far  East?  For  years  before  the 
war,  her  bankers,  tradesmen  and  financial  journals 
lamented  the  fact  that  Germany  was  making  great 
strides  in  the  Far  East,  capturing  the  trade  that  was 
once  England's.  They  demanded  that  this  condition 
be  checked  by  war. 

Now,  Egypt  and  India,  very  rich  countries,  are 
being  forcibly  held  by  England  for  trade  purposes. 
The  size  and  cost  of  the 
army  which  she  has  to 
maintain  there  today  to 
hold  these  people  who 
are  fighting  to  get  from 
under  her  domination, 
has  recently  been  the 
source  of  very  strong 
protests  on  the  part  of 
the  English  working 
people.  Will  England 
agree  to  disband  her 
army  and  risk  losing 
these  rich  colonies? 

Persia,  a  small  weak  country  near  India,  is 
dominated  and  exploited  by  England.  How  can 
England  insist  on  Japan  withdrawing  from  Shantung 
unless  she  withdraws  from  Persia  ? 

Another  obstacle  is  Ireland.  The  peace  of  the 
world  cannot  be  established  until  Ireland  is  given 
her  freedom.  England  realizes  this  very  well.  Mr. 
Lloyd  George  feeling  the  embarassing  position  he 
would  be  placed  in  at  the  conference  talking  peace 
and  limitation  of  armament  while  he  was  waging 
war  on  Ireland,  desired  very  much  to  reach  a  settle- 
ment with  Ireland  before  the  opening  of  the  Dis- 
armament Conference.  Japan  can  not  consistently 
be  asked  to  cease  her  atrocities  in  Korea  and  with- 
draw her  army  from  there  while  England  does  the 
same  in  her  possessions  on  a  much  larger  scale.  A 
successful  attempt  to  establish  universal  peace  and 
limit  armament  can  not  be  made  if  one  part  of  the 
world  is  to  hold  the  other  part  in  subjection. 

France  seeing  that  England  and  Japan  will  not 


Jesus  —  Hostia 


Placidus  M.  Endler 
A  wheaten  Wafer,  white  as  sno^; 

So  fragile!  Yet  our  faith  doth  know 
Imprisoned"  Love,  transpierced  ana  nailed 

The  Vision  Beatific,  Veiled. 


materially  reduce  their  military  forces  on  account 
of  the  people  they  forcibly  hold  for  exploitation, 
announces  that  she  will  not  give  up  her  army  on  the 
Rhine  lest  she  might  lose  the  valuable  natural  re- 
sources taken  from  Germany.  Mr.  Briand  says  he 
is  resolved  not  to  fall  a  victim  to  "mystic  pacifism." 
France  also  has  interests  in  the  Pacific  which  she 
will  desire  to  guard. 

BMONG  the  contributory  causes  of  war,  trade 
can  be  placed  first.  The  desire  for  gain,  for 
commerical  supremacy,  is  as  rife  among  the 
nations  today  as  before  the  war.  From  time  im- 
memorial the  East  has  been  looked  upon  as  the 
treasure  land  of  the  world.  The  Washington  Con- 
ference will  be  controlled  by  the  trade  interests. 
Trade  will  be  given  first  consideration.  Unless 
these  conflicting  inter- 
ests can  in  some  way  be 
harmonized,  it  is  useless 
to  expect  any  valuable 
results  in  the  reduction 
or  limitation  of  arma- 
ment. 

Another  serious  ob- 
stacle which  the  confer- 
ence will  have  to  over- 
come is  the  power  of  the 
munition  makers.  Un- 
less their  influence  is 
destroyed,  no  permanent  results  need  be  looked  for. 
These  "pocket-book  patriots,"  continually  keep  alive 
through  their  press  a  propaganda  which  inflames 
the  people  and  creates  war  scares.  For  years  they 
have  successfully  carried  on  a  war  policy  which 
increased  the  armament  of  the  nations.  Since  the 
move  to  limit  armament  has  taken  root  among  the 
people,  the  munition  makers  have  been  busy  circu- 
lating false  reports  regarding  the  military  programs 
of  the  various  countries  and  forming  organizations 
to  combat  the  move. 

The  Washington  Conference  is  not,  however, 
without  its  possibilities  even  though  it  be  dominated 
by  the  same  old  diplomats  whose  intrigues  have 
caused  so  many  wars.  The  Italian  delegates  had 
no  part  in  the  war.  They  are  young  men  and  will 
probably  bring  a  new  view  point  into  the  conference. 
The  "whip  of  necessity"  may  compel  the  old  diplo- 
mats to  adopt  a  new  angle  of  vision.  Economic 
compulsion  rather  than  a  desire  to  avoid  war  may 
force  them  to  yield.  The  pressure  from  the  people 
Continued  on  page  13 


Will's  H 


eiress 


John  Ayscough 

Author  of  First  Impressions  in  America;  San  Celestino;  Faustula; 

Monksbridge;  Abbotscourt;  Jacqueline;  Fernando;  The  Tideway; 

Saints  and  Places;  etc. 


^^^^HE  priest  had  only  just  come  in  and  there 
m  CA  was  something  visibly  temporary  in  his 
^^^^  method  of  sitting  before  the  fire:  he  had 
not  yet  removed  his  wet  (and  shabby) 
boots,  and  they  had  begun  to  smoke,  though  he 
hadn't.  His  old  and  worn  cloak,  wetter  than  his 
boots,  he  had  absent-mindedly  stretched  across  a 
wooden  chair,  with  the  outer  side  of  it  turned  to 
the  blaze,  and  that  was  also  now  steaming.  His 
shapeless,  old  gloves  lay  on  the  seat  of  the  same 
chair  and  were  sodden  with  rain. 

He  was  gazing  into  the  flame  of  the  logs,  but 
was  clearly  not  thinking  of  them,  nor  of  the  grateful 
warmth.  There  was  no  glitter  of  tears  in  his  kind, 
rather  tired  eyes :  but  the  old,  gentle  face  expressed, 
not  precisely  melancholy,  but  a  thoughtful  regret. 

At  one  end  of  the  small  room  there  was  a  door 
leading  into  his  little  log-built  church.  At  the  other 
end  was  another  door,  beyond  which  was  his  meagre 
bedroom. 

Presently  he  arose  and  passed  into  the  cold 
chapel.  There  was  no  light  but  that  of  the  red  lamps 
before  the  altar,  which  scarcely  sufficed  to  show 
how  bare  the  building  was.  It  called,  indeed,  out 
of  the  darkness,  about  half  of  the  "Stations"  of 
the  Way  of  the  Cross:  it  showed,  but  dimly,  Our 
Lady's  statue,  and  St.  Joseph's;  more  plainly,  the 
simple  altar — and  very  little  besides. 

From  outside,  one  could  hear  the  sound  of 
steadily  falling  rain:  within,  there  was  no  sound 
soever. 

By  the  low  rail  of  the  altar  (which  the  priest 
had  made  himself)  he  knelt  and  prayed — for  an  old 
friend,  whose  voice  he  would  hear  no  more  on  earth. 

Then,  presently,  he  arose,  went  to  a  small  cup- 
board in  the  wall,  and  put  away  in  it  an  empty  pyx, 
a  little  stole  (purple  on  one  side,  and  white  on  the 
other),  a  little  book,  and  some  Holy  Oil  "stocks". 
When  he  had  locked  up  the  little  cupboard,  he 
knelt  again  for  a  few  moments,  this  time  before 
Our  Lady's  statue;  and  then  went  back  into  his  tiny 
house. 

He  did  now  take  off  his  wet  boots,  and  put  on 
instead  a  pair  of  loose,  very  shabby  slippers.  Having 


put  the  boots,  with  their  soles  to  the  blaze,  against 
the  low  fender,  to  dry,  they  immediately  fell  down. 
As  he  set  them  up  again,  more  carefully,  his  smile 
was  characteristic.  It  meant  "My  own  fault!  I'm 
not  going  to  try  to  put  the  blame  on  you."  They 
were  too  old  friends  (the  only  friends  of  their  kind 
he  had)  to  find  fault  with  or  quarrel  with.  They  had 
been  his  companions  wherever  he  was  out-of-doors, 
for  several  years;  they  had  been  soled  and  heeled 
and  patched  over  and  over  again. 

QRESENTLY  he  took  up  his  breviary  and  began 
to  say  office — the  lauds  of  the  next  day.  And 
all  his  praying  was  offered  for  the  soul  of  the 
poor  friend  whom  he  had  just  seen  start  upon  his  last 
journey,  relinquishing  him  into  the  care,  kinder 
than  his  own,  of  the  Fellow  Traveller  he  had  given 
him. 

"Poor  fellow!"  he  said  aloud  when  he  had 
finished  his  office,  with  the  closed  book  dropped  into 
his  lap,  but  still  held  in  his  fingers.  He  leaned  back 
and  sat  gazing  into  the  red  heart  of  the  fire.  Its 
heat  made  him  think  of  another  Heart,  Divine  and 
Human.  And  he  pressed  the  book  with  his  fingers, 
and  that  pressure  was  still  a  prayer. 

"Poor  Will,"  he  thought,  "he  will  have  a  home 
at  last." 

Outside  there  was  the  rain's  soft  monotone. 

"Just  such  a  night,"  thought  the  priest,  "as  that 
on  which  he  came."  It  was  ten  years  since  that 
other  night  and  he  hardly  knew  whether  it  seemed 
double  that  or  but  the  other  day.  The  little  episodes 
of  that  other  night  seemed  clear  enough  for  yester- 
day :  but  later  episodes,  happening  separately  at  long 
intervals  of  time,  crossed  it  and  made  it  seem  long, 
long  ago. 

He  himself  had  not  been  here  more  than  a  year 
then.  He  was  still  building  (with  his  own  hands) 
the  wooden  chapel  then:  boys  and  girls  of  his 
sparsely  scattered  flock,  as  it  was  then,  he  had 
married  since. 

He  had  then,  as  now,  been  sitting  in  his  old 
chair,  here  by  the  fire,  his  cloak  (hardly  three  years 


THE  +  SIGN 


old  then)  drying  on  the  Windsor  chair,  when  Will's 
shambling  knock  had  first  been  heard  at  his  door. 

When  he  called  out  "Come  in!"  Will  had  not 
come  in,  but  had  only  knocked  again.  So  he  had 
gone  to  the  door  and  opened  it  himself. 

Outside  in  the  rain,  meagrely  clad,  there  was 
Will's  wet,  shivering,  unimpressive  figure  :  Elderly, 
not  recently  shaven,  certainly  not  recently  fed,  nor 
warmed. 

In  spite  of  the  rain  it  had  taken  two  invitations 
to  get  Will  indoors. 

"I'm  dribbling  rain,"  he  had  explained  (very 
needlessly,  and  very  meekly).  And  though  he  eyed 
the  dry  warmth  of  the  log-cabin  wistfully,  he  had 
not  moved  a  step  forward.  He  had  reminded  the 
priest  of  a  wet  dog,  to  whom  "indoors"  is  out  of 
bounds — not  a  popular  dog  either. 

"Come!"     the  priest  had  said,  "Come  in!" 

Inside  it  was  easier  to  see  what  Will  was  like — 
not  much  to  look  at,  though  as  a  young  buck  he  had 
esteemed  himself  handsome.  He  was  far  from 
young  then;  sixty  or  over.  He  had  once  been  vain 
of  his  curly,  abundant  brown  locks ;  he  had  left  only 
a  few,  meagre,  grizzled  whisps  of  hair,  long 
enough  to  be  drawn  across  his  bald  crown.  It  had 
formerly  been  his  favorite  occupation  to  review  his 
ample  wardrobe,  and  count  and  try  on  his  many 
suits.  The  clothes  in  which  he  crossed  the  priest's 
threshold  were  all  he  had  in  the  world  then.  He 
had  pawned  or  sold  (eaten,  anyway)  everything 
else — clothes,  jewelry,  watch;  and  earlier,  he  had 
sold  (and  eaten)  a  bit  of  land,  a  little  stock,  some 
tools,  and  a  few  bits  of  furniture. 

All  this  the  priest  had  known  as  well,  at  first 
sight  of  him,  as  now  ten  years  later,  when  he  had 
heard  all  Will's  dull,  unhappy  story  time  and  again, 
bit  by  bit,  from  Will  himself. 

And  he  had  known  at  once  (what  mattered 
more)  that  the  man  was  starving.  So  Will  stayed 
on. 

He  was  not  dried  for  an  hour,  and  sent  back, 
out  into  the  forest  and  the  rain;  he  was  not  fed 
with  one  full  meal  and  sent  back  to  his  fellow- 
traveller,  Starvation,  waiting  for  him  outside.  He 
had  stayed  on.  Not  because  the  priest  had  touch- 
ing, fiattering  illusions  about  him.  To  tell  the  truth, 
the  priest  had  perceived  much  that  was  far  from 
lovely  or  romantic  in  his  visitor:  there  was  that  in 
the  man's  face  that  told  him  (quite  correctly)  that 
the  stranger  had  been  dissipated,  selfish,  boastful 
and — a  liar. 


But  he  was  starving — he  did  not  say  so,  nor 
even  that  he  was  hungry.    Therefore  he  stayed  on. 

iir^ILL  had  been  a  gentleman:  the  priest  saw 
\\y  that:  and  he  had  hardly  remained  a  gentle- 
man; the  priest  saw  that  too.  It  was  not 
mere  poverty  that  had  torn  his  patent  of  gentility, 
but  himself,  his  lies  and  shifts,  his  bragging,  his 
selfishness. 

Not,  thought  the  priest,  that  all  the  fault  had 
been  Will's:  partly  theirs  who  had  sent  him  over- 
seas to  get  rid  of  him.  Very  likely  they  had  had 
over-sufficient  cause  to  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  him. 
He  had,  probably,  been  started  in  life  at  home  more 
than  once,  but  had  never  worked,  and  had  always 
come  back  to  be  started  again.  Perhaps  he  had 
been  middle-aged  when  they  shipped  him  over 
here,  to  the  far  west:  too  old  to  have  any  real 
chance;  and  perhaps  (it  was  the  fact,  like  more  of 
these  conclusions  of  his  that  the  priest  labelled 
"perhaps")  they  had  sent  him  with  scarcely  any 
capital — knowing  he  would  spend  what  they  gave 
him.  But  they  would  frank  him  to  the  far  west; 
in  the  far  west  of  that  west  had  lain  their  real 
motive;  once  there  it  would  be  too  far  for  him 
to  get  home  again.  That  their  incubus  of  a  relation 
was  too  old  for  such  work  as  must  be  done  over  there 
they  could  have  known,  and  did  know;  also  that  he 
had  no  fitness  for  the  work,  or  knowledge  of  it;  also 
that  he  had  not  sufficient  bodily  strength,  let  alone 
ardor  and  energy;  also  that  a  young  man,  strong, 
eager,  willing,  could  hardly  do  any  good  out  there 
with  nothing  in  hand  but  the  papers  which  made  so 
many  acres  of  forest  his  own,  so  that  there  was  not  a 
tree  on  them  under  which  he  had  not  a  proprietor's 
right  to  die.  He  would  not  anyway  die  at  home, 
in  a  British  work-house. 

All  this  the  priest,  ten  years  younger  then, 
had  known  at  once — guessed  it  with  a  superfluous 
"perhaps."  So  Will  had  stayed  on.  Will  had  a  real 
surname,  and  a  good  one;  and  presently  the  priest 
knew  it,  but  Will  preferred  the  use  of  what  he  called 
a  Nom  de  plume — not  that  he  had  ever  written 
anything — and  became  known  as  Mr.  Trees  "My 
only  property  over  here,"  as  he  explained  to  the 
priest  alone. 

V?=^E  helped  his  friend  to  build  the  church,  prov- 
1     I  ing  oddly  clever  with  his  hands.     He  pro- 
posed it  himself,  but  with  an  apology,  "For," 
said  he,  "I'm  not  a  Catholic." 


THE  1*  SIGN 


His  people,  he  added,  were  Church  of  England 
— and  Low  Church.  For  himself,  he  claimed  the 
motherhood  of  no  religion.  For  a  long  time  he 
worked  on  the  building  of  the  church.  During  the 
rest  of  the  time  he  was  helping  to  build  "the  hotel" 
two  miles  away,  for  no  present  wage  in  money,  but 
on  condition  of  being  allowed  a  tiny  room  in  it 
(which  he  built  himself)  when  it  should  be  finished. 
Meanwhile,  he  slept  in  a  shed  on  part  of  the  hotel- 
site,  where  hay  was  kept  for  the  hotel-keeper's  pony : 
and  he  dined  every  day  with  the  priest. 

When  the  church  was  finished,  Will  taught  the 
hotel-keeper's  two  boys,  and  he  had  free  meals  at 
the  hotel,  and  a  suit  of  the  hotel-keeper's  clothes 
when  that  gentleman  regarded  them  as  worn  out. 
Will  proved  to  be  also  clever  with  his  needle,  and 
earned  a  little  cobbling  clothes;  finally,  some  time 
after  he  had  ceased  to  feed  at  the  priest's  table,  he 
became  a  Catholic. 

That  was  all  Will's  story  since  the  night  of  his 
coming  ten  years  ago.    Very  little  "to  it,"  you  see. 

I  cannot  assert  that  he  ever  became  rigidly 
truthful — fibs  were  part  of  the  marrow  of  his  bones : 
but  to  the  priest  he  told  no  lies,  and  to  no  one  did 
he  tell  any  that  were  cruel,  spiteful,  injurious  of 
other  people.  Only  he  would  brag — half-heartedly, 
as  not  expecting  to  be  believed,  nor  caring  whether 
he  was  believed.  He  would  brag  of  having  been 
a  wonderful  horse-man  and  a  wonderful  shot;  of 
having  spent  huge  sums,  whereas  he  had  only  spent 
more  than  he  ought  and  had  always  been  a  nervous 
rider  and  a  slack  sportsman.  Of  his  family  he  never 
boasted — it  was  an  ancient  one,  and  he  never  at  his 
worst  had  been  given  to  brag  truly. 

He  never  became  popular,  but  he  was  tolerated 
and  not  at  all  disliked.  The  children  liked  him — 
for  he  liked  them  better  than  he  liked  their  fathers. 
And  the  children's  mothers  liked  him  from  the  time 
that  he  nursed  little  Marabel  Wolf  through  the 
diphtheria,  Mrs.  Wolf  being  away  in  the  Maritime 
provinces,  whence  she  came,  and  Mr.  Wolf  being 
(in  his  rather  frequent  cups)  impervious  to  any 
distinction  between  liniments  and  medicines.  As  he 
had  always  been  considered  a  rank  coward,  this 
nursing  of  little  Marabel  surprised  the  settlement. 
If  he  had  caught  the  diphtheria  and  died,  his  funeral 
would  have  been  quite  a  testimonial :  but  he  did  not 
die  until  seven  years  afterwards,  so  the  opportunity 
was  not  forthcoming. 

Even  previous  to  becoming  a  Catholic,  he  had 
constituted  himself  sacristan,  and  had  made  a  set  of 


vestments  out  of  Mrs.  Wolf's  wedding  dress  which 
she  gave  him  for  the  purpose,  as  an  act  of  thanks- 
giving for  Marabel's  recovery. 

XT  was  generally  considered  by  the  settlement 
that  Mr.  Trees  was  clever, — which  accounted 
(if  considered,  epigrammatically)  for  his 
being  a  failure  in  life.  By  the  women,  his  extreme 
personal  cleanliness  was  held  up  as  an  example; 
and  his  closet  of  a  room  at  the  hotel  was  declared 
by  Mrs.  Sudd,  the  mistress  of  that  establishment,  to 
be  a  pattern  to  all  men,  so  tidy  was  it,  so  clean  and 
so  "nacky." 

All  the  same,  Mr.  Trees  was  not  regarded  with 
enthusiasm  by  his  male  acquaintances.  Even  the 
priest  did  not  idealize  him — he  considered  in  him 
not  so  much  what  he  had  made  of  himself,  at  his 
best,  as  what  the  material  had  been  out  of  which 
that  best  had  come.  The  finished  result  was  not 
splendid,  any  better  than  anyone  had  had  a  right 
to  count  on. 

And  now  Will  was  dead,  and  the  priest  knew 
that  he  would  miss  him.  He  felt  that  the  withdrawal 
from  sight  of  that  personality  of  slight  consequence 
would  leave  in  his  own  life  a  gap  not  likely  to  be 
filled,  or  to  be  at  all  ignored. 

In  his  fashion  Will  had  been  educated,  and  in 
his  degree  and  measure  he  had  been  refined — with 
perhaps  only  a  superficial  refinement.  Without  the 
least  wit,  or  originality,  his  talk  had  never  been 
interesting;  but  it  had  been  possible  in  talking  to 
him  to  take  for  granted  the  absence  of  a  sort  of 
ignorance  certainly  to  be  reckoned  with  in  any  con- 
versation with  the  other  settlers.  And  the  man  was 
himself  a  tribute  to  what  had  been  done  for  him. 
He  had  not  quite,  but  nearly,  ripened,  like  an  autumn 
apple  to  which  sunshine  had  not  come  at  all  till  too 
late.  For  quality  and  flavour,  the  sun  had  come 
very  late  to  Mr.  Trees,  but  it  had  come  in  the  shine 
of  decency,  happiness  and  purpose. 

"Our  Lord  thought  him  worth  making,"  thought 
the  priest,  "if  his  family  didn't  think  him  worth 
keeping.  He  suffered  as  much  for  poor  Will  upon 
the  Cross  as  for  anyone  of  the  Saints.  And  the  devil 
(what  an  example  the  devil  sets  us  that  way!) 
took,  I  dare  say,  as  much  trouble  to  get  hold  of  him 
as  if  he  had  been  a  person  of  consequence." 

The  priest's  fingers  pressed  upon  his  book  again 
— and  meant  a  thanksgiving :  that  Our  Lord  had 
thought  the  saving  of  poor  Will  worth  His  while. 

"He  saw  in  him  things  to  like  that  we  couldn't 


THE  +  SIGN 


see.  I  hope  He  sees  things  to  like  in  me  that  / 
can't.  That's  one's  great  hope.  One  can't  even  talk 
His  language  in  one's  prayers — let's  hope  our  broken 
talk  sounds  in  His  ears  as  appealing  as  broken 
French  sounds  in  ours " 


a 


—ii— 

VERYTHING,"    said    the    old    priest    to 

himself,    "keeps    reminding   me    of    that 

night  when  poor  Will  first  came — on  his 

way  home.     I  believe  I  have  been  half 

listening  to  hear  him  knock  on  the  door  again.  ..." 

And  there  came  a  knock,  as  meek  as  Will's 
had  been. 

"Come  in!"  he  called  out:  but  no  one  came  in. 
So  as  on  that  former  occasion,  he  went  to  the  door 
and  opened  it  himself. 

The  light  sent  out  an  upward  shaft  into  the  rain 
and  darkness,  and  revealed  a  very  large  umbrella. 

"Do  come  in!"  the  priest  begged,  and  presently 
the  umbrella  (after  convulsive  wavings)  collapsed 
and  a  very  little  elderly  lady  became  visible. 

"Miss  Grove!",  exclaimed  the  priest.  "Do 
hurry  in  out  of  the  rain.  What  brings  you  out, 
and  so  far  from  home,  on  such  a  night?" 

Miss  Grove  appeared  to  be  rather  out  of  breath 
— a  little  'winded'  by  her  struggles  with  the  um- 
brella. Even  after  she  had  come  in,  and  after  the 
door  was  shut,  she  continued  to  pant. 

"I  hope  nothing's  the  matter.  I  trust  no  one  is 
ill,"  said  her  host.  "But  even  so,  was  there  no  one 
else  they  could  send?" 

"No  one's  ill,"  she  replied,  "nothing's  the 
matter — except  what  you  know,  that  poor  Mr.  Trees 
is  dead." 

All  this  time  the  priest  had  been  helping  the 
little,  old  lady  to  take  off  her  very  numerous  (and 
very  wet)  wraps.  Miss  Grove  was  well  known  to 
him:  she  was  a  member  of  his  congregation,  and 
aunt  of  one  of  its  bulwarks,  Mr.  Hoss  of  the  hotel. 
Nevertheless,  her  present  visit  surprised  him:  she 
was  a  fragile,  timid,  very  shy  little  creature,  and 
he  would  hardly  have  thought  her  capable  of  coming 
out  into  the  forest  in  the  black  night,  alone  and 
in  such  weather. 

She  was  clearly  in  a  state  of  considerable  shy, 
but  eager  agitation,  and  her  little  twittering  manner 
was  more  twittering  than  usual. 

"Oh,  Father!",  she  whimpered,  making  little 
ineffectual  dabs  at  her  own  person  in  search  of  a 


pocket  and  a  pocket  handkerchief,  "Oh,  Father! 
dear  Mr.  Trees — what  a  loss!  There's  nobody  like 
him — at  all  like  him — in  St.  John  of  the  Woods! 
nor  likely  to  be.     It  can't  be  expected." 

She  was  sincerely  distressed,  and  her  being  so, 
for  the  solitary,  not  greatly  popular,  poor  failure 
of  a  man,  pleased  and  touched  the  priest  who  had 
been  his  one  real  friend.  Two  very  small  tears 
trickled  down  Miss  Grove's  cheeks,  which  were  like 
two  small  apples.  Everything  about  her  was  pro- 
portionate— her  whole  body  was  little,  her  hands 
and  feet  were  tiny,  and  her  mouth  was  like  a  button- 
hole. The  priest  was  a  big  old  man,  and  his  chair 
was  a  big  old  chair:  Miss  Grove  looked  like  an 
elderly  doll  in  it. 

"So  irreplaceable!",  she  cried,  "so  much  man- 
ner! Why  there's  no  manner  left  at  St.  John  of 
the  Woods!" 

Inwardly  the  priest  had  to  smile.  His  smiles 
often  were  inward  and  invisible.  She  was  so  mani- 
festly sincere,  and  poor  Will  had  gone  on  such  a 
journey,  where  manner  could  matter  so  very  little!" 

"In  that  she  continued  shaking  her  little  head, 
and  tapping  one  of  her  little  feet  on  the  floor,  "in 
that  he  leaves  no  heir  or  successor." 

The  idea  of  poor  Will's  heir,  the  idea  of  his 
"succession"  could  only  cause  another  inward  and 
invisible  smile. 

"As  to  his  position,"  added  Miss  Grove,  "I  am 
his  heiress.  He  begged  it  might  be  so.  That's 
why  I  came  to  you.  I  was  so  anxious  you  should 
become  accustomed  to  the  idea  at  once,  Father. 
I  was  so  afraid  of  your  forming  any  other  idea  or 
plan.  So  I  came  at  once.  Mr.  Trees  wished  it  so 
much —  you  ivill  let  me  be  his  successor,  Father!" 

He  had  to  confess  a  desire  for  enlightenment 
as  to  what  it  was  he  was  to  let  her  be. 

"Why  Sacristan,  Father.  Mr.  Trees  was 
Sacristan — irreplaceable,  I  know.  But  he  did, 
really,  wish  me  to  be  his  successor  in  the  post.  He 
mentioned  it  so  often.  And  I  really  was  his  under- 
study. He  taught  it  me.  He  made  me  quite  under- 
stand the  little  book — the  Ordo,  you  know:  you 
see,  I  know  its  name:  I  quite  understand  it,  tho' 
it's  all  in  Latin  and  queer  contractions.  V  means 
green  vestments,  and  A  white;  R  red;  and  Dup 
means  no  black  masses  on  any  account.  Poor  Mr. 
Trees  said  I  got  on  surprisingly  with  the  Latin. 
I  began  last  summer — he  was  quite  struck  when 
I  made  out  (it  was  the  7th  of  July,  I  remember) 
that   the    feast   was    St.    Cyril    the    Methodist:     a 


THE  t  SIGN 


convert,  of  course,  like  himself;  and  the  similarity 
of  our  name  was  a  link — after  all  what  is  a  Grove 
but  a  grove  of  Trees?  He  liked  to  show  me  the 
Ordo,  and  also  the  Missal,  and  let  me  tell  him  in 
English  the  Saint  of  the  next  day.  Even  in  that 
there's  much  to  learn.  On  July  the  26th  he  said, 
'Well,  to-morrow — what  Saint  is  it?'  'Ah,'  said  I 
when  I  looked!  See  how  the  church  has  saints  of 
every  class  and  calling.  The  Martyr  of  the  Panta- 
loons— a  tailor  of  course!  Then  on  September  1st, 
St.  Duodecimo,  a  holy  bookseller,  you  see :  and  on 
the  very  next  day,  a  holy  gardener,  St.  Hyacinth 
(another  convert,  evidently) — 'Sancti  Proti  Hyacin- 
thi;  St.  Hyacinth  the  Protestant:  'Proti'  is  one  of 
those  innumerable  contractions,  trying,  till  one  gets 
used  to  them.  But  dear  Mr.  Trees!  how  patient 
and  cheerful  he  was  teaching  me.  And,  Father,  I 
have  washed  all  the  albs  and  things  since  he  fell 
ill,  and  I  should  be  proud  to  wash  out  the  church 
every  Monday  and  Saturday — after  Sunday,  and 
before,  you  understand:  and  arrange  the  flowers 
(I  often  have)  and  clean  the  vases — and  everything. 
Poor  Mr.  Trees — he  said,  'Go  and  ask  Father  Barry 
to  let  you  be  Sacristan  in  my  place.  Say  I  left  it 
you,  and  he  knows  I've  nothing  else  to  leave.  He 
won't  refuse.'  " 

He  did  not  want  to  refuse.  Poor  Will!  He 
too  had  had  the  great  human  longing  for  a  successor, 
an  heir;  and  his  choice  has  been  wiser  than  that 
of  many  who  choose  an  heir. 


To  the  little  old  maid  this  service  near  our 
Lord,  in  His  modest  house,  would  be  a  vocation, 
a  great  honour  and  privilege  and  delight:  and  her 
privileges  in  the  world  had  been  few  enough.  Why 
should  Will's  last  will  and  testament  be  set  aside 
and  disregarded  ? 

"Indeed,  Miss  Grove,"  said  the  priest,  "I  am 
only  too  glad  that  Mr.  Trees  thought  of  it,  and  only 
too  happy  that,  now  he  can  ask  nothing  for  himself, 
he  has  left  me  the  power  of  fulfilling  a  desire  of  his." 

"He  never  did  ask  anything  for  himself,"  said 
his  loyal  little  friend.  "Since  he  came  here,  how 
little  he  had — and  all  earned :  and  how  contented 
he  was  with  it!  I  have  heard  strong  men,  and  young 
men,  make  sneering  hints  about  him  who  would  not 
have  been  content  if  what  fed  him  for  a  whole  week 
had  been  offered  them  for  one  meal.  Father,  I  can 
never  replace  him:  but  I'll  do  my  best  in  his  place 
if  you  will  be  so  good  as  to  do  as  you  say  and  let 
me  be  his  successor." 

He  promised  it  should  be  so,  and  presently 
himself  saw  her  home. 

"My  first  work,"  she  said,  at  parting,  "will  be 
getting  the  church  ready  for  his  requiem.  His  coffin 
is  ready.  He  made  it  himself,  long  ago,  when  he 
was  helping  you,  Father,  to  build  the  church.  It 
is  under  his  bed.  T  used,'  he  told  me,  'to  plan  how 
I  would  live  in  my  own  house — and  all  my  plans 
came  to  nothing.  But  when  I  am  dead  I  shall  be 
in  a  house  of  my  own  building  after  all.'  " 


n~he  Disarmament  Conference  and   Its  Obstacles— -Continued 


at  home  who  abhor  war  and  seek  relief  from  taxa- 
tion, the  increasing  army  of  un-employed,  the 
thought  of  the  10,000.000  of  soldiers  and  the 
30,000.000  civilians  who  would  be  living  today  had 
it  not  been  for  secret  diplomacy,  may  force  these 
grim  old  diplomats  to  open  the  session  of  the  con- 
ference to  the  public.  If  forced  to  work  in  the  open 
they  will  be  compelled  to  honestly  and  seriously 
consider  a  plan  of  harmonizing  the  conflicting  in- 
terests of  the  world,  whereby  an  amicable  settle- 
ment can  be   reached  on  these   questions   without 


resorting  to  the  barbarous  method  of  war. 

The  American  people  can  greatly  aid  the  con- 
ference in  reaching  its  objective  by  insisting  that 
their  government  stand  for  open  sessions  and  bring 
these  diplomats,  whose  secret  sessions  have  caused 
so  many  wars,  under  the  great  controlling  influence 
of  public  opinion. 

Let  us  pray,  then,  that  the  nations  of  the  world 
will  beat  their  swords  into  plowshares,  that  perma- 
nent peace  may  reign,  and  that  humanity  will  be 
spared  another  scourging. 


Montefalco's  Gnostl})   Visitant 


A  Roman  Ecclesiastic 


ffi 


'ONTEFALCO  is  a  quaint  little  town 
situated  like  most  towns  in  Italy  on  the 
summit  of  a  mountain  and  commanding 
such  a  glorious  panorama  of  the  surround- 
ing country  that  it  has  been  called  the  "Balcony  of 
Umbria."  From  this  balcony  you  look  down  on  the 
Umbrian  valley  and  there  meets  your  gaze  an  en- 
chanting view  of  vineyards  and  oliveyards,  fields 
of  grain  and  vegetables  gardens  dotted  here  and 
there  with  hoary  hamlets  or  single  residences  of 
the  Umbrian  peasants.  In  the  distance,  and  perched 
again  on  hill-tops  or  mountain  sides  are  the  cities 
of  Assisi  and  Spoleto,  Frevi  and  Foligno.  The 
beauty  of  the  scene  is  indescribable — the  color 
scheme  one  that  would  wrap  an  artist  into  ecstacy. 
Montefalco  is  even  amongst  Italian  cities,  excep- 
tionally rich  in  art  treasures  and  it  has  been  the 
birthplace  of  many  illustrious  personages  the  fore- 
most of  whom  is  St.  Clare  of  the  Cross  in  whose 
heart  the  Divine  Artist  sculptured  out  of  nerve  and 
fleshy  fibre  the  instruments  of  the  Passion — the 
Crucifix  itself,  the  Lance,  the  Nails,  the  Scourge, 
the  Crown  of  Thorns,  the  Pillar — a  most  unusual 
miracle  and  a  permanent  one  which  may  be  wit- 
nessed by  any  visitor  to  the  monastery  Church  of 
St.  Augustine  and  which  was  recently  witnessed  by 
the  present  writer.  However,  it  is  not  with  the 
matchless  beauty  of  the  scene  which  Montefalco 
commands  that  we  are  now  concerned,  nor  yet  with 
the  miraculous  heart  of  St.  Clare  which  has  stood 
the  scrutiny  of  the  keenest  and  most  sceptical 
observers,  but  rather  with  some  strange  occurrences 
that  happened  only  a  few  steps  away  from  the 
Monastery  of  St.  Augustine  and  the  Convent  of  St. 
Leonard  from  September  2nd,  1918,  to  November 
9th,  1919.  These  two  Convents  are  separated  by  a 
garden  and  a  few  times  a  year  both  Communities 
meet  for  mutual  entertainment  and  edification. 

From  a  small,  narrow  and  almost  perpendicular 
street  you  step  into  the  little  Church — "Chiesina"  as 
the  Italians  would  say,  of  St.  Leonard,  and  there  at 
your  right  is  a  sacristy  about  8x4  feet  in  dimension. 
This  sacristy  connects  with  the  cloister  by  means 
of  what  is  called  a  "ruota"  or  "turn"  that  is,  a 
revolving  drum-like  dumb-waiter  by  means  of  which 
messages  or  articles  may  be  passed  into  or  out  of 
the  cloister. 


Here  precisely  occurred  the  events  narrated  in 
the  Diary  of  the  Rev.  Mother  Abbess  which  we  now 
submit  to  our  readers  and  we  submit  it  with  the 
understanding  that  the  reader  may  pass  whatever 
judgement  he  pleases  on  the  genuineness  of  the 
facts  related  therein.  This  only  shall  we  say  at 
present  that  the  story  seems  to  be  recommended 
by  a  simplicity,  brevity,  directness  and  wierd  mono- 
tony of  cadence  that  might  naturally  be  expected  in 
such  subject  matter. 

DIARY  OF  THE  REV.   MOTHER  ABBESS 
1918 

1st  Time.  Monday  September  2nd.  The 
Sacristy  bell  rang  and  Sister  Maria  Teresa  of  Jesus, 
the  Abbess  having  gone  to  answer  it  a  voice  said  to 
her:  "I  must  leave  this  alms  here."  The  "ruota" 
containing  a  10  Lire  bill  was  turned,  and  to  the 
question  of  the  Abbess  whether  she  should  have  a 
triduum  offered  or  some  prayers  or  a  mass,  the 
voice  answered :  "There  is  no  obligation  whatso- 
ever." 

"If  I  may  be  permitted  to  ask:   Who  are  you?" 

The  voice  answered:  "It  is  not  necessary  to 
know  who  I  am." 

The  voice  was  gentle  but  withal  sad,  with  a 
quick  far-off  muffled  sound. 

2nd  Time.  Saturday  October  5th.  3rd  Time. 
Thursday,  October  31st.  4th  Time.  Friday,  Novem- 
ber 29th.  5th  Time.  Monday,  December  9th.  Each 
time  the  message  was  the  same  and  a  10  Lire  bill 
was  left.  The  Abbess  again  asked  if  she  should 
have  prayers  offered  and  the  answer  was:  "Prayer 
is  always  good." 

1919 

6th  Time.  Wednesday,  January  1st.  7th  Time. 
Wednesday,  January  29th,  almost  always  the  same. 

8th  Time.  Friday,  March  14th.  During  the 
time  of  examen  about  8  o'clock  in  the  evening  the 
bell  sounded  twice  and  having  gone  to  answer,  the 
Abbess  found  10  Lire  on  the  "ruota"  but  to  her 
enquiries  no  answer  was  given.  The  front  door  of 
the  Church  was  closed  and  the  key  held  by  the 


THE  1*  SIGN 


nuns.  The  servant  was  called  and  told  to  search 
the  Church  carefully.  This  was  done  but  no  one 
was  found.  At  this  juncture,  writes  the  Abbess,  we 
began  to  suspect  that  whoever  left  the  alms  was 
no  person  of  this  earth. 

9th  Time.  Friday,  April  11th.  10  Lire  were 
brought  and  the  voice  said:  "Please  pray  for  a 
deceased  person."  This  was  the  first  time  prayers 
were  asked. 

10th  Time.  Fri- 
day, May  2nd.  A  little 
before  the  "  great 
silence,"  about  9.30 
P.  M.,  I  heard  the 
sound  of  the  bell  and 
four  of  us  went  to  an- 
swer,—  Sister  Mary 
Francis  of  the  Five 
Wounds,  Sister  Amante 
Maria  of  St.  Anthony, 
Sister  Angelica  Ruggeri 
and  myself.  We  found 
two  10  Lire  bills  placed 
in  the  form  of  a  cross 
but  knew  not  who  left 
them  there.  The  front 
door  of  the  Church  was 
closed. 


11th  Time.  Satur- 
day, May  25th.  Again 
10   Lire  were   brought. 

12th  Time.  Morn- 
ing of  Wednesday,  June 
4th.  10  Lire  found  on 
the  "  ruota  "  without 
knowing  who  placed 
them  there. 


frrfarr  fnr  itas  nf  tip  Draft 


Translated    for  The   Sign 


/T  is  truly  meet  and  just,  right  and  gain- 
ful to  salvation,  that  we  should  at  all 
times  and  in  all  places  render  thanks  unto 
Thee,  O  Holy  Lord,  Father  Almighty, 
Eternal  God,  through  Christ  Our  Lord,  in 
whom  the  hope  of  a  blessed  resurrection 
shone  forth  for  us,  that  those  whom  the 
unescapable  lot  of  death  casteth  down  may 
be  gladdened  by  the  promise  of  immortality 
to  be.  Life  in  thy  faithful,  O  Lord,  changeth, 
it  is  not  taken  away;  the  dissolution  of  this 
earthly  tabernacle  cometh  before  the  en- 
trance to  the  eternal  mansions  in  heaven. 

And  therefore,  with  the  Angels  and 
Archangels,  with  the  Thrones  and  Domina- 
tions, and  with  the  whole  heavenly  court, 
we  sing  the  praise  of  Thy  Glory,  forever 
saying:  Holy,  Holy,  Holy,  Lord  God  of 
Hosts!  Heaven  and  earth  are  full  of  Thy 
Glory.  Hosanna  in  the  highest.  Blessed 
is  He  that  Cometh  in  the  Name  of  the  Lord. 
Hosanna  in  the  highest. 


a  voice  outside  her  cell  said:  "The  Sacristy  bell  is 
ringing."  She  went  immediately  to  answer  and 
heard  the  usual  voice :  "I  am  leaving  here  10  Lire 
for  prayers." 

She  asked:  "In  the  name  of  God  who  are 
you?"  The  reply  came :  "It  is  not  permitted,"  and 
she  heard  no  more.  The  Abbess  afterwards  asked 
the  Community  who  had  called  her  in  time  of  Silence 
but  none  of  the  Sisters  had  done  so. 


15th  Time.  Friday, 
July  18th,  after  the 
evening  silence  was 
called  at  9.30  o'clock, 
the  Abbess  went  to 
close  the  door  of  the 
bake-shop,  and  on  re- 
ascending  the  stairs 
heard  the  sound  of  the 
bell.  She  went  to  the 
"turn"  and  pronounced 
the  salutation :  "Jesus 
and  Mary  be  praised!" 
A  voice  answered 
"Amen"  and  then 
added:  "I  am  leaving 
this  alms  for  the 
usual  prayers."  The 
Abbess  then  with  more 
courage  demanded :  "In 
the  name  of  God  and  of 
the  most  Holy  Trinity 


13th  Time.    Satur- 
day, June  21st.  Exactly 

the  same  occurrence.  It  is  to  be  noted,  however, 
that  on  the  previous  Thursday  and  Friday  when  the 
bell  sounded,  one  time  Sister  Angelica  went  to 
answer,  and  the  other  Sister  Angela,  but  no  one  was 
found  in  Sacristy  or  Church. 

14th  Time.  Monday,  July  7th.  About  2  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  time  of  repose,  the  bell  rang  twice, 
but  the  Abbess  thinking  that  some  children  were  in 
the  Church  did  not  trouble  to  answer.    After  a  while 


who 


are    you 


The 


same  voice  answered: 
"It  is  not  permitted," 
and  no  more  was  heard. 
The  Church  door  was 
locked. 


16th  Time.  Sun- 
day, July  27.  The  Ab- 
bess happened  to  go  to 

the  "turn"  before  mass  and  found  there  a  10  L're 

bill. 

17th  Time.  Tuesday,  August  12th,  about  8 
o'clock  in  the  evening  the  bell  rang  and  three  nuns 
went  to  answer: — The  Abbess,  Sister  Mary  Naza- 
rena,  and  Sister  Clare  Benedict.  They  found  10  Lire 
at  the  "turn"  and  conjured  in  God's  name  the  my- 
sterious person  to  declare  who  he  was.  No  answer 
was  given.   The  servant  then  called  in  the  Rev.  E. 


THE  +  SIGN 

Alexander  Climati,  Prior  of  St.  Bartholonew  and 
confessor  of  the  nuns,  D'Agasiz  Tabarrini,  Parish 
Priest  of  Casale  and  Chaplain  to  the  nuns,  also  Fr. 
Angelo,  Guardian  of  the  Cappuchins.  These 
searched  the  Church  but  found  no  one. 


18th  Time.  Tuesday,  August  19th,  at  6.30  in 
the  evening  the  bell  rang,  the  Abbess  went  to  answer 
and  said:  "Jesus  and  Mary  be  praised!"  The  voice 
answered  :  "Amen"  and  said :  "I  am  leaving  this  alms 
for  prayers."  The  Abbess  said :  "We  will  pray  for 
you  just  the  same,  but  please  give  the  alms  to  some 
person  who  is  more  in  need  of  it."  The  soul 
answered  in  pleading  tones:  "No,  please  take  it. 
It  is  a  great  mercy  to  me."  Is  it  permitted  to  know 
who  you  are?"  said  the  Abbess.  "I  am  always  the 
same  person"  was  the  reply — and  no  more  was 
heard.    As  usual  the  10  Lire  were  left. 

19th  Time.  Thursday,  August  28th.  Practically 
the  same  message. 

20th  Time.  Thursday,  September  4th.  Again 
the  same  message. 

21st  Time.  About  9.15  P.  M.  The  Abbess  on 
closing  the  dormitory  door  heard  the  sound  of  the 
bell.  With  another  nun  she  went  to  answer,  found 
the  alms,  but  heard  no  voice.  The  other  nun  then 
retired  to  see  if  the  voice  would  speak  to  the  Abbess 
alone,  but  not  a  word  was  heard.  The  Abbess  went 
upstairs  without  taking  the  money,  and  hearing  the 
bell  sound  again  returned.  The  Soul  offered  the  10 
Lire  as  usual  but  she  refused  it.  Then  the  Soul 
said:  "Please  take  it  to  satisfy  divine  justice."  The 
Abbess  then  made  the  mysterious  person  repeat  the 
ejaculation:  "Blessed  be  the  holy,  most  pure  and 
immaculate  conception  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary!" 
The  Soul  repeated  the  words  exactly. 

22nd  Time.  Sunday,  September  21st.  In  the 
morning  before  mass  the  Abbess  found  10  Lire  at 
the  "turn". 

23rd  Time.  Friday,  October  3rd,  about  9 
o'clock  P.  M.  as  the  Abbess  stood  at  the  window 
of  her  cell  she  thought  she  heard  the  bell  ring.  She 
went  to  answer  and  refused  20  Lire  offered  as  an 
alms  saying  their  confessor  had  directed  her  to  do  so 
unless  the  Soul  would  declare  who  he  was,  because 
they  feared  diabolical  deceit.  The  voice  said :  "No, 
J  am  a  suffering  soul.  It  is  now  40  years  that  I  have 
been  in  Purgatory  for  having  wilfully  ivasted 
ecclesiastical  goods." 


24th  Time.  Monday,  October  6th.  The  Abbess 
had  a  mass  celebrated  for  that  soul  by  the  Rev. 
Alexander  Climati,  their  confessor,  and  a  short  time 
after  the  mass  was  finished  the  bell  rang  and  the 
same  voice  said:  "I  am  leaving  this  alms.  Many 
thanks!"  The  Abbess  asked  some  more  questions 
but  no  reply  was  given.  The  Sacristy  was  closed. 
10  Lire  were  left. 

25th  Time.  Thursday,  October  16th.  About 
9.45  P.  M.  after  silence  was  called  and  all  the  nuns 
had  retired,  the  Abbess  heard  someone  calling  out- 
side her  cell  and  saying  that  the  Sacristy  bell  was 
ringing.  In  the  morning  the  nuns  were  asked  about 
this  but  just  as  in  the  case  of  July  7th,  they  knew 
nothing.  That  night  the  Abbess  went  to  answer  the 
call  and  gave  the  salutation:  "Jesus  and  Mary  be 
praised!"  the  Soul  answered:  "Amen"  and  added. 
"I  am  leaving  this  alms.  Many  thanks."  (Here  it 
must  be  noted  that  on  the  morning  of  the  same  day 
they  had  a  mass  celebrated  for  that  Soul  by  the 
Jesuit  Father  Luigi  Bianchi  who  was  then  giving  a 
retreat  to  the  Community).  The  Abbess  replied: 
"By  order  of  our  Confessor  I  must  know  your  name 
and  surname  otherwise  I  won't  take  the  alms."  The 
Soul  instead  of  a  direct  answer  simply  said:  "The 
Judgement  of  God  is  just  and  right."  "But,"  said  the 
Abbess,  "how  now  is  this?  I  have  had  a  mass  said 
for  you  and  one  mass  alone  is  sufficient  to  free  a 
soul  from  Purgatory.  How  is  it  that  you  are  not 
yet  free?"  The  answer  was:  "/  received  a  very 
small  share  of  it."  The  Abbess  then  said  some  other 
things  but  the  Soul  did  not  answer.  This  time 
20  Lire  were  left. 

26th  Time.  Monday,  October  20th.  The  bell 
for  Silence  had  just  rung  at  8.45  P.  M.,  and  as  the 
Abbess  with  two  Sisters — Sister  Mary  Rosalia,  and 
Sister  Clare  Joseph  were  ascending  the  stairs  they 
heard  the  Sacristy  bell  ring,  all  three  went  to  answer 
and  found  10  Lire  at  the  "turn"  but  the  voice  did  not 
speak,  presumably  because  of  the  presence  of  the 
other  two.  They  then  went  away  and  the  Abbess 
returned  a  second  time  but  heard  nothing.  Then 
having  gone  upstairs  again  and  closed  the  door  of 
the  domitory  she  heard  the  bell  ring  once  more.  She 
answered  and  to  the  usual  salutation  the  voice  said 
in  a  very  clear  tone :  "Amen,"  and  because  the 
Abbess  had  not  taken  the  money,  added :  "Take  this 
alms.  It  is  a  great  mercy."  The  Abbess  took  the 
alms  and  the  voice  said:  "Thanks!"    "But,"  said  the 


THE  1*  SIGN 


Abbess,  "Can  I  not  know  who  you  are?"    The  reply 
was:   "Pray,  pray,  pray,  pray." 

27th  Time.  Thursday,  October  30th,  at  2.45, 
after  midnight — The  Abbess  heard  a  voice  outside 
her  cell  saying:  "The  Sacristy  bell  has  rung."  She 
went  to  answer  and  as  usual  the  soul  said:  "Amen" 
to  the  salutation,  then  immediately  added:  "I  am 
leaving  here  this" — but  the  Abbess  without  waiting 
for  the  sentence  to  be  finished  said:  "By  order  of 
our  Confessor  I  cannot  take  it.  In  the  name  of  God 
and  by  order  of  the  Confessor  tell  me  who  you  are  ? 

Are  you  a  Priest?" 

The  answer  was :     Yes." 

"Did  the  funds  you  wasted  belong  to  this 
Monastery?" 

Answer:  "No,  but  I  have  permission  to  bring 
them  here." 

"And  where  did  you  take  them?" 

Answer:     "The  Judgement  of  God  is  just." 

"But  I  scarcely  believe  you  are  a  soul  from 
Purgatory.  I  think  it  may  be  some  one  who  is  play- 
ing a  joke  on  us." 

"Do  you  want  a  sign?" 

"No,  I  am  afraid.  May  I  call  someone?  I  will 
call  immediately — " 

"No,  it  is  not  permitted." 

The  Abbess  took  the  10  Lire  and  the  Soul  said : 
"Thanks.    Now  it  is  my  turn  to  pray." 

The  Abbess  said:  "Pray  for  me,  for  my  Com- 
munity, and  for  the  Confessor." 

The  Soul  said:  "BENEDICTUS  DEUS  QUI"* 
and  it  departed  continuing  the  prayer  in  a  low  voice, 
and  she  understood  no  more.  This  last  time  the 
voice  had  less  of  nervous  haste  and  less  indistinct- 
ness.   Again,  at  one  time  it  seemed  to  be  speaking 

*  It  is  surmised  that  the  soul  began  to  recite  verse 
20  of  Psalm  LXV.  "Blessed  be  God  who  hast  not  turned 
away  my  prayer  nor  His  mercy  from  me." 


on  her  right  and  when  departing  it  seemed  at  her 
left  side. 

28th  Time.  Sunday,  November  9th.  At  about 
4:15  A.  M.  the  Abbess  heard  from  the  dormitory 
the  sound  of  the  Sacristy  bell.  She  answered  and 
gave  the  salutation:  "Jesus  and  Mary  be  praised!" 
The  usual  voice  answered :  "May  they  be  praised 
forever!  I  thank  you  and  the  religious  Community. 
/  am  now  out  of  all  pain." 

"You  must  not  forget  the  priests  who  have  said 
masses  for  you,  and  our  Confessor,  and  Fr.  Luigi 
Bianchi,  and  Fr.  DAgazio." 

"I   THANK   ALL." 

Said  the  Abbess:  "I  would  like  to  go  to  Purga- 
tory where  you  were  because  there  I  would  be  safe." 

"Do  the  will  of  the  most  High  God." 

"You  will  pray  for  me,  for  my  Community,  for 
my  parents  if  they  are  in  Purgatory,  for  our  Con- 
fessor,  for   Fr.   Luigi   Bianchi,   for   the   Pope,   the 
Bishop,  and  Cardinal  Ascalesi." 
Answer:    "Yes" 

"Bless  me  and  all  the  persons  whom  I  have 
mentioned." 

"Benedictio  Domini  super  vos!" 

The  morning  before  Fr.  Luigi  Bianchi,  S.  J., 
had  said  a  mass  for  that  Soul  at  a  privileged  altar  in 
the  church  of  the  Gesu  in  Rome. 

The  voice  of  the  dead  priest  in  the  beginning 
used  to  be  sad  but  gradually  became  more  joyful 
and  at  last  spoke  in  accents  of  blissful  ecstacy. 

Even  in  the  sound  of  the  bell,  though  it  was 
recognized  as  that  of  the  Sacristy,  there  was  always 
something  at  once  sad  and  consoling.  When  the 
Sisters  heard  it  they  always  said:  "Mother  Abbess, 
it  is  that  poor  soul.  Please  go  to  answer."  And 
meanwhile  a  fervent  "De  Profundis"  spontaneously 
arose  from  their  lips. 


We  trust  that  the  above  article  will  prove  not  only  interesting  to  our 
readers  but  will  help  to  actualize  for  them  the  reality  of  Purgatory  and  spur 
them  on  to  a  more  ardent  devotion  to  the  Poor  Souls.  The  writer  assures 
us  that  the  facts  are  supported  by  an  abundance  of  unimpeachable  testimony. 
For  personal  reasons  he  requests  us  to  withhold  his  name — The  Editors. 


Current  Fact   and   Comment 


m 


WHY  GIVE  TO 


buting  to  Peter's  Pence.  While  all  Catholics 
are  assured  that  what  is  thus  contributed  is 
applied  with  a  minimum  of  waste  to  many  worthy 
and  important  objects,  still  would  they  be  amazed 
were  they  fully  informed  how  numerous  and  diversi- 
fied those  objects  are.  Consider  the  upkeep  of  the 
diplomatic  service  alone.  It  was  consoling  to  ob- 
serve the  change  of  sentiment  among  the  nations 
in  favor  of  the  Vatican  after  the  war.  The  number 
of  nations  with  diplomatic  relations  with  the  Holy 


PETER'S   PENCE 

See  has  doubled;  and  now  twenty  five  nuncios  and 
internuncios  are  established  with  the  greater  and 
lesser  Powers,  while  a  corresponding  number  of 
ambassadors  and  ministers  are  designated  to  the 
Vatican.  It  is  a  department  that  cannot  be  conducted 
gratuitously,  to  say  the  least;  yet,  when  we  consider 
the  incalculable  benefit  to  Religion  directly  and 
indirectly  derived  through  this  arrangement, 
we  find  a  most  gratifying  motive  for  generous 
giving  in  the  annual  offering  to  the  Holy 
Father. 


LET  JUSTICE  BLUSH 


OUR  readers  have  already  been  acquainted 
through  the  columns  of  the  daily  press  of  the 
acquittal  of  the  murderer  of  Father  James  E. 
Coyle  former  pastor  of  St.  Paul's  Church,  Birming- 
ham, Alabama.  This  ominous  incident  gives  food 
for  disquieting  thought  to  all  sane  citizens  of  our 
Republic.  It  is  the  application  in  the  concrete  of 
the  damnable  tenets  of  the  Klu  Klux  Klan.  Sollicitor 
Joseph  R.  Tate  in  summing  up  for  the  State  declared 
to  the  jury,  "If  you  go  into  the  jury  room,  kick  out 
the  evidence  and  render  a  verdict  of  not  guilty,  you 
will  have  all  the  narrow-minded,  fuzzy-necked 
people  come  and  pat  you  on  the  back,  but  the 
remainder  of  your  lives  you  will  have  your  consci- 
ence to  prick  and  sting  you."  In  face  of  this  virile 
charge  a  verdict  was  returned  "not  guilty."  The 
Nation  commenting  upon  this  disgraceful  miscar- 
riage of  justice  has  this  to  say: 

"Acquittal  of  the  Rev.  Edwin  R.  Stephenson, 


a  Methodist  minister,  of  the  murder  of  Father  James 
E.  Coyle,  pastor  of  St.  Paul's  Catholic  Church  in 
Birmingham,  will  surprise  no  one  who  understands 
the  play  of  forces  behind  that  beastly  crime.  Writ- 
ing in  The  Nation  for  August  31,  Mr.  Charles  P. 
Sweeney  made  clear  that  anti-Catholic  bigotry  is 
a  predominant  state  of  mind  in  that  section  of  the 
United  States  of  which  Birmingham  is  the  metro- 
polis. The  murder  of  the  priest  in  his  own  home 
is  the  logical  product,  in  a  community  predisposed 
to  lawlessness,  of  the  reckless  campaign  of  defama- 
tion in  which  the  junior  Senator  from  Georgia, 
Thomas  E.  Watson,  is  the  central  figure.  He  is  not 
guiltless  of  the  murder  of  Father  Coyle,  as  he  was 
not  guiltless  of  the  tragic  lynching  five  years  ago  of 
Leo  Frank.  Both  were  victims  in  part  of  his  in- 
cendiary vilification  in  that  tinder-box  of  medieval 
superstitions  and  phobias  designated  on  our  maps  as 
Georgia  and  Alabama." 


SEEDS  OF  JOT— HARVEST  OF  TEARS 


QFEW  weeks  ago,  in  one  of  our  large  Eastern 
cities,  a  school  girl,  15  years  of  age,  went  out 
in  search  of  romance.  She  found  it,  through 
the  medium  of  the  "movies"  and  an  automobile  ride. 
While  standing  at  the  curb  after  a  "movie"  show, 
she  was  accosted  by  four  unknown  young  men  in 
an  auto,  and  invited  for  a  ride.  Here  was  the 
romance  and  she  accepted.  The  rest  of  the  story  is 
written  in  scalding  tears,  a  shattered  body,  and 
bitter  regrets.  Her  experiences  were  such  as  will 
crowd  her  future  with  hideous  memories.  She  was 
held  captive  in  a  lonely  shack  for  a  whole  week, 
and  made  the  pitiable  plaything  of  a  gang  of 
degenerates.  She  was  finally  turned  loose,  to 
wander,  dazed,  in  an  adjoining  woods,  where,  many 


hours  later,  she  was  accidently  found,  and  rescued. 
She  is  now  home  under  her  mother's  care,  working 
her  way  back  to  a  doubtful  recovery. 

This  tragic  story  is  neither  new  nor  uncommon. 
Unfortunately,  it  is  recurring  with  alarming  fre- 
quency in  the  police  records  of  all  our  large  Ameri- 
can cities.  It  may  be  too  much  to  expect  that  girls 
of  15  should  appreciate  the  many  and  various  pit- 
falls modern  life  provides  for  girls  of  their  age.  But, 
certainly,  mothers  of  girls  of  15  cannot  be  blind  to 
what  is  going  on  every  day,  cannot  be  blind  to  the 
many  dangers  peculiar  to  these  modern  times  which 
threaten  their  growing  girls.  Mothers  who  deliber- 
ately blink  these  obvious  facts  assume  a  grave 
responsibility  before  heaven.    Too  frequent  attend- 


THE  + 

ance  at  the  "movies,"  with  their  unreal  description 
of  life,  and  fantastic  notions  of  romance,  is  one  of 
the  most  deadly  dangers.  "Automobilitis,"  or  the 
hunger  of  the  young  for  the  "joy-ride" — too  joften 
a  misnomer  for  a  "sad-ride" — is  another.  To  the 
list  must  be  added  the  aimless  promenading  on  our 
streets  of  under-dressed  and  over-dressed  girls.  The 
folly  of  many  mothers  who  indulge  their  young 
daughters  in  all  the  extravagance  of  indecent  fash- 
ions which  brazenly  parade  the  natural  charm  and 
attractiveness  of  budding  womanhood,  places  young 
girls  directly  in  the  path  of  danger,  and  provokes 
the  attenton  of  the  large  number  of  vultures  who 
infest  our  streets  under  the  guise  of  nattily  attired 
gallants  in  glittering  motor  cars. 

One  cannot  help  questioning  seriously  the  cha- 
racter of  the  bringing  up  of  a  girl  of  15  who  accepts 


SIGN 

an  invitation  to  an  automobile  ride  on  a  late  Satur- 
day evening  from  a  party  of  young  men,  to  whom 
she  is  a  total  stranger.  It  would  seem  that  a  girl 
who  has  been  reared  by  a  sensible  mother,  a  girl  in 
whom  had  been  instilled  a  proper  sense  of  self- 
respect,  and  the  right  ideal  of  maidenly  modesty  and 
reserve  becoming  to  girls  of  tender  age,  would  know 
better  than  lightly  trust  herself,  unprotected,  to  the 
company  of  unknown  men,  or  be  on  the  streets  alone 
late  Saturday  night,  or  any  other  night.  One 
wonders  how  many  Catholic  girls  are  joining  the 
numbers  of  those  who  meet  with  disaster  via  the 
automobile  and  "strange  young  man"  route.  The 
rearing  and  training  of  Catholic  young  girls,  if  it  is 
what  it  should  be,  should  effectively  safeguard  them 
against  the  many  modern  snares  so  abundantly  set 
for  the  unwary. 


FATHER   FIDELI5   KENT  STONE,   C.  P. 


V|^HILE  Foch,  Diaz  and  Beatty  are  being  wel- 
\I/  corned  to  America  with  every  phase  of  a 
country's  applause,  no  recognition  is  given  to 
the  passing  of  one  whose  remarkable  gifts  of  mind 
and  heart  could  readily  have  swayed  individuals  and 
peoples.  On  October  13,  Father  Fidelis  of  the 
Cross  (known  in  the  world  as  James  Kent  Stone) 
died  in  California  at  the  advanced  age  of  four  score 
years  and  one. 

Father  Fidelis  embodied  in  his  charming  per- 
sonality all  that  is  admirable  in  the  true  American 
ideal.  He  was  the  son  of  a  distinguished  Episcopal- 
ian clergyman.  He  himself  became  a  clergyman 
in  the  same  denomination.  At  a  very  early  age  he 
held  successively  the  presidency  of  Hobart  and 
Kenyon  Colleges.  In  his  thirtieth  year  he  became 
a  Catholic,  and  two  years  later  was  ordained  to  the 
holy  priesthood  as  a  member  of  the  Paulist  Com- 
munity. Four  year  afterwards  he  joined  the  Pas- 
sionist  Order.  As  a  Passionist  he  spent  many  years 
abroad,  particularly  in  Argentine  and  Chile  where 
he    did    much    for    the    establishing    and    upbuild- 


ing of  his  Order.  During  his  long  religious  career 
he  held  many  positions  of  responsibility  both  at 
home  and  in  foreign  parts. 

As  a  young  man  he  loved  to  climb  the  Alps, 
when  with  rapture  he  would  gaze  upon  the  snow- 
capped peaks  glistering  in  the  sun-light,  forgetful 
of  the  verdant  fields,  the  fragant  flowers  and 
mellow  shade  of  the  luxuriant  valleys.  This  was  a 
portent  of  his  after  life.  He  unhesitatingly  sacri- 
ficed fame,  fortune  and  pleasure  which  were  easily 
within  his  grasp.  And  having  made  the  sacrifice, 
he  manfully  pursued  the  arduous  ascent  to  the 
heights  of  virtue  and  union  with  God. 

Men  have  been  heard  to  complain  that  to 
seclude  oneself  as  he  did  from  the  world's  notice 
was  a  wanton  burial  of  great  talents.  But  in  the 
judgment  of  Him  Who  said  "He  that  shall  humble 
himself  shall  be  exalted"  Father  Fidelis  was  su- 
premely wise.  There  is  every  reason  to  believe 
that  he  received  a  welcome  in  heaven  such  as  no 
admiring  throng  could  have  vouchsafed  him  on 
earth. 


WHAT  ABOUT  THE   LIVING   HEROES? 


CONGRESS  has  appropriated  the  sum  of 
$50,000  for  the  ceremonial  burial  of  an  un- 
known hero.  No  true  American  will  object 
to  this  or  any  other  sum  being  spent  to  honor  this 
individual  hero  and  the  thousands  of  others  he 
represents  who  so  loyally  played  an  heroic  part  and 
generously  made  the  supreme  sacrific  in  the  world 
war. 

But  all  the  unknown  heroes  who  went  to  battle 


are  not  dead.  We  have  a  mighty  number  of  ex- 
service  men  in  the  country  who  acquitted  them- 
selves of  their  military  duty  as  manfully  and  valor- 
ously  as  any  known  or  unknown  dead  hero.  The 
least  these  living  heroes  can  expect  from  the  Govern- 
ment which  they  unflinchingly  supported  is  the  op- 
portunity of  now  supportng  themselves.  These 
heroes  should  be  provided  with  work  that  will  enable 
them  to  earn  a  decent  livelihood;  and  it  is  no  more 


THE  + 

than  just  that  the  Government  give  or,  if  necessary, 
make  jobs  for  these  deserving  men. 

We  know,  of  course,  that  there  are  many  pro- 
fessional bums  who  represent  themselves  as  ex- 
soldiers.  But  even  allowing  for  these  there  is  still 
a  very  large  number  of  worthy  ex-soldiers  without 
employment  who  are  only  too  anxious  to  get  work. 
It  is  nearly  time  that  Congress  should  stop  frittering 
its  time   in  party  recriminations   and  pettyfogging 


SIGN 

investigations  and  do  something  for  the  ex-soldiers 

who  deserve  so  well  of  the  country. 

What  has  been  said  of  these  returned  heroes 
applies  with  equal  force  to  the  other  living  heroes 
who  did  not  go  to  war  but  who  gave  all  that  was  in 
them  that  we  might  win  the  war.  We  cannot  honor 
the  dead  too  much.  But  it  would  be  more  fitting  and 
healthful  for  the  country  if  Armistice  Day  was  made 
less  a  memorial  day  and  more  of  an  employment  day. 


POPE  AND 

^^XECENTLY  general  elections  were  held  in  the 
I^T  Republic  of  Nicaragua.  That  this  republic 
has  a  sound  and  unbiased  electorate  we  are 
assured  from  their  choice  for  the  presidency  of 
Diego  M.  Chamorro,  a  fine  type  of  Catholic  man- 
hood. On  the  morning  of  the  elections  Signor 
Chamorro  with  his  family  received  Holy  Communion 
from  the  hands  of  the  Archbishop.  His  election 
being  verified,  he  withdrew  to  the  Cathedral  where 
the  Te  Deum  was  solemnly  chanted  in  thanksgiving 
to  the  Most  High.  Thereupon  through  the  Secretary 
of  State  at  the  Vatican  he  offered  his  respects 
to  the  Vicar  of  Jesus  Christ  and  notified  him  of  his 
election  to  the  presidency.  Some  points  from  his 
inaugural  address  will  indicate  how  profound  are  his 
Christian  convictions:  "The  Catholic  Church,  of 
which  I  am  proud  to  be  a  faithful  son,  during  my 
incumbency  shall  enjoy  the  full  freedom  guaranteed 
to  her  by  the  constitution,  not  only  because  it  is  so 
guaranteed,  but  especially  because  the  Church  is 


PATRIOTISM 

the  most  powerful  support  of  order  and  public 
morals  and  because  I  esteem  her  as  the  true  mother 
of  civilization.  Humbly  realizing  that  'unless  the 
Lord  guard  the  city,  they  watch  in  vain  who  guard 
it,'  I  yield  myself  over  to  the  guidance  of  the 
Almighty,  and  committing  to  Him  my  destiny  and 
that  of  the  country,  I  also  put  all  my  trust  in  Him 
for  the  successful  discharge  of  my  duties."  Ap- 
parently the  good  people  of  Nicaragua  do  not  be- 
lieve in  the  thread  bare  calumny  against  the  Catho- 
lic Church,  that  loyalty  to  Christ's  Vicar  spells  dis- 
loyalty to  one's  native  land.  Would  that  our  Ameri- 
can bigots  in  high  places  were  as  enlightened !  Only 
by  fidelity  to  conscience,  by  fulfilling  duties  to  church 
and  state  will  American  Catholics  live  down  this 
flimsy  slander.  "Render  to  Caesar  the  things  that 
are  Caesar's,  and  to  God  the  things  that  are  God's," 
this  is  Christ's  principle,  true  and  binding  in  the  reign 
of  Tiberias  Caesar — true  and  binding  in  the  in- 
cumbency of  Warren  Harding,  President. 


AMERICAN  GOLD   BUYS  AUSTRIAN   SOULS 


/f^VRESS  dispatches  frequently  inform  us  of  the 
w^J  efforts  being  made  by  the  Protestant  sects 
to  alienate  Catholics  in  Germany  and  Austria 
from  their  faith.  These  proselytizers  are  using 
some  new  tricks,  such  as  holding  "missions"  in  the 
public  squares  of  the  cities  without  mentioning  the 
name  of  their  religion,  and  even  giving  the  impres- 
sion that  they  are  Catholics  working  in  the  interests 
of  the  Catholic  Church..  It  is  only  when  they  see 
an  evident  chance  of  making  a  pervert  that  they 
reveal  their  identity.  Their  chief  method  of  per- 
version, however,  is  the  "free  soup"  system  so  com- 
mon in  Ireland  in  the  days  of  the  famine.  They 
take  advantage  of  the  pitiful  distress  and  harrowing 
poverty  of  the  wretched  people  and  hold  out  the 
bait  of  money,  food  and  clothing.  We  may  well 
wonder  if  the  decent  Protestant  people  in  the  United 
States  are  aware  of  the  ignoble  purposes  to  which 
the  money  they   so   generously   contribute   is   put. 


The  chief  offenders  in  this  contemptible  business 
of  buying  souls  are  the  Methodists,  Baptists  and 
Seventh  Day  Adventists.  The  New  York  Herald 
justly  remarked:  "If  the  foreign  sect  works  with 
plenty  of  dollars  or  pounds  sterling  it  becomes  all 
the  more  attractive  to  Austrian  candidates." 

We  doubt  whether  the  money  being  so  lavish- 
ing spent  in  the  nefarious  traffic  of  Germanic  souls 
will  have  more  lasting  results  than  similar  expendi- 
tures upon  the  Irish  immigrants  to  our  shores.  An 
incident  is  narrated  in  the  new  life  of  Cardinal 
Gibbons.  When  that  distinguished  churchman  was 
Vicar-Apostolic  of  North  Carolina,  he  once  paid  a 
visit  to  Plymouth.  Whilst  there,  the  Bishop  learned 
that  an  Irishman  had  apostatized  and  had  become 
a  Baptist.  The  Irishman  was  immersed,  and  after 
the  ceremony,  was  asked  by  his  new  co-religionists 
to  lead  in  prayer.  He  astonished  them  by  reciting 
the  "Hail,  Holy  Queen." 


China  Calls 


"M^^^HE  many  friends  of  the  Passionist  Fathers 
M  C*\  in  America  were  made  glad  when  they 
^^^^  read  recently  in  the  Catholic  press  that 
the  Passionists  had  volunteered  their  ser- 
vices to  the  Holy  See  for  work  in  the  Far  East. 
They  will  have  added  reason  to  rejoice  now  that 
the  offer  has  been  accepted,  and  that  a  territory  has 
been  assigned  in  China  to  American  Passionists  and 
that  a  band  of  five  priests 
will  leave  the  Mother  house, 
St.  Michael's  Monastery, 
West  Hoboken,  on  Sunday, 
December  11th,  for  their  new 
field. 

The  Sacred  Congrega- 
tion of  the  Faith  which  has 
special  charge  of  foreign 
mission  activites  has  allotted 
to  the  Passionist  Fathers  a 
district  in  the  Province  of 
Hunan,  Central  China.  This 
territory  lies  north  of  the 
district  now  being  evange- 
lized by  the  American 
Foreign  Mission  Society  of 
Maryknoll,  N.  Y.,  and  south 
of  that  under  the  care  of  the 
Maynooth  Irish  Mission 
Society.  The  entire  Province 
of  Hunan  is  at  present  a 
Vicariate-Apostolic  under  the 
direction  of  the  Spanish 
Augustinians  who  have  labored  in  the  territory  with 
unflagging  zeal  since  1879.  The  population  of 
China  is  440,000,000,  four  times  greater  than  the 
population  of  the  United  States,  comprised  within 
an  area  only  one  fourth  larger  than  our  Country. 
The  Province  of  Hunan  to  which  the  Passionists  are 
going  is  about  the  size  of  the  State  of  Kansas  and 
like  that  State  is  centrally  located.  Hunan  has  a 
population  reaching  the  enormous  figure  of 
22,000,000  people  of  whom  only  13,000  are  Catho- 
lics. There  are  at  present  in  this  territory  thirty 
European  and  two  native  priests. 

The  eyes  of  the  Catholic  world  are  turned  today 
to  the  Far  East  and  not  only  from  Europe  but  also 
from  America,  missionaries  are  leaving  in  ever  in- 


creasing numbers.  China  with  its  teeming  millions 
is  making  an  especially  strong  appeal.  Hither 
missionaries  are  hastening  in  the  hope  of  garnering 
a  rich  harvest  of  souls  to  Christ.  This  work,  how- 
ever, is  not  new.  China  has  been  a  field  of  mission- 
ary labor  since  the  sixteenth  century  and  has  been 
watered  by  the  blood  of  hundreds  of  martyrs  whose 
hands  are  raised  in  supplication  begging  for  the 
redeeming  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  to  free  these  hordes 
of  people  from  the  miseries 
of  paganism. 

During  the  last  few 
decades  the  Protestant  sects 
have  centered  their  efforts  in 
an  endeavor  to  propagate 
their  false  doctrines  among 
the  Chinese.  With  immense 
wealth  at  their  disposal,  they 
have  succeeded  in  spreading 
to  every  Province  in  the 
Celestial  Empire.  But  in 
spite  of  this  the  Catholic 
missionaries  with  meagre 
financial  resources,  with  little 
else  than  a  spirit  of  sacrifice 
and  untiring  labor  have 
reaped  gratifying  fruits. 
Nearly  2,000,000  pagans 
have  been  converted.  A 
thousand  native  priests, 
many  native  sisterhoods,  and 
an  army  of  catechists  aid  the  foreign  missionaries 
in  their  labors  for  souls. 

St.  Paul  of  the  Cross,  whose  heart  burned  with 
zeal  for  the  salvation  of  the  heathern,  ardently 
desired  that  his  sons  should  give  themselves  to  this 
blessed  work.  Like  his  namesake,  the  great  Apostle 
of  the  Gentiles,  he  had  but  one  desire,  "to  know 
Christ  and  Him  Crucified"  and  to  spread  this  know- 
ledge to  the  ends  of  the  earth.  In  his  Rule  he 
plainly  directs  that  when  the  time  presents  itself 
the  Fathers  of  his  Order,  armed  with  the  blessing 
of  the  Vicar  of  Christ,  must  be  ready  to  leave  all, 
home,  friends  and  country,  and  go  forth  to  preach 
Christ  Crucified  to  the  heathen.  It  is  worthy  of  note 
that  five  years  after  the  death  of  St.  Paul  of  the 


21 


THE  +  SIGN 


REV.  AGATHO  PURTILL,  C.  P, 


REV.  RAPHAEL  VANCE,  C. 


REV.    TIMOTHY    McDERMOTT.    C.  P. 


REV.    FLAVIAN    MULI.INS,    C.  P. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


Cross,  the  Passionists  were  invited  to  make  a 
foundation  in  the  city  of  Pekin.  At  that  time,  how- 
ever, this  could  not  be  done.  Now,  nearly  a  century 
and  a  half  later,  a  band  of  Passionists,  will  for  the 
first  time  set  out  for  China,  not  from  the  Eternal 
City,  but  from  America,  a  country  which  but  a 
decade  ago  was  classed  as  a  foreign  missionary 
field.  True  to  the  ideals  of  their  saintly  founder, 
the  Passionists  have  always  preached  the  Gospel 
to  the  most  neglected  children  of  the  Church.  For 
many  years  they  have  labored  in  the  Near  East 
where  they  have  spared  no  effort  to  win  back  the 
schismatical  children  of  the  Orthodox  Greek  Church 
and  the  followers  of  Mohamed. 

One  of  the  first  foreign  missions  undertaken 
by  the  Passionist  Order  was  the  conversion  of  the 
aborigines  of  Australia.  In  more  recent  times,  a 
band  of  Passionists  was  led  by  the  noted  Father 
Fidelis  Kent-Stone,  whose  death  we  are  still  lament- 
ing, into  the  South  American  countries  of  Argentina, 
Chile  and  Brazil.  The  Passionist  Fathers  of  Spain 
have  been  laboring  for  a  long  time  past  in  the  wilds 
of  Peru. 

When  we  glance  over  the  history  of  Catholic 
missionary  activity  in  China,  and  come  to  realize 
that  in  spite  of  the  long  years  of  labor  there  are 
relatively  so  few  Catholics  within  its  borders  we 
cannot  but    appreciate  the  difficulties  that  confront 


the  missionary  in  this  limitless  field.  The  work  of 
the  missionary  has  indeed  been  carried  on  steadily 
against  almost  insurmountable  odds.  Speaking  of 
the  Province  of  Hunan  alone,  13,000  Catholics  out 
of  11,000,000  inhabitants!  This  speaks  volumes 
for  the  bouyant  heroism  and  apostolic  zeal  of  the 
Spanish  Augustinians  who  have  gone  before.  This 
plainly  tells  the  story  of  the  hardships  which  are 
facing  the  band  of  Passionists  who  are  about  to  lend 
a  helping  hand  to  their  Augustinian  brethen.  Much, 
indeed,  has  to  be  done  before  this  land  of  paganism 
becomes  a  spiritual  child  of  the  church.  The  mis- 
sionary has  merely  touched  the  fringe  of  the  multi- 
tude. Our  Lord's  words,  the  "harvest  is  great  but  the 
laborers  are  few,"  have  through  these  many  years 
applied  to  China  as  to  no  other  country  in  the  world. 
Whether  or  no  China  shall  become  a  child  of  the 
Church  or  a  fruitful  field  of  Protestantism  will 
depend  in  the  main  on  the  spirit  shown  by  American 
Catholics  toward  this  great  work,  the  preaching  of 
the  Gospel  in  China.  Let  us  pray,  let  us  labor  for 
this  noble  cause. 

The  five  Passionist  Fathers  who  have  been 
chosen  for  the  band  are  Rev.  Fathers  Celestine 
Roddan  of  Randolph,  Mass.;  Agatho  Purtill  of  West 
Hoboken,  N.  J.;  Flavian  Mullins  of  Athens,  Pa.; 
Raphael  Vance  of  Philadelphia,  Pa.;  and  Timothy 
McDermott  of  Pittsburg,  Pa. 


nsoners  o 


Thomas  McGuiri 


f  Hope 


^^^>HE  Church  is  often  called  Mother,  and 
/  C\  rightly  so.  The  children  whom  God  has 
^^^^  given  her  she  takes  to  her  heart  and  cher- 
ishes with  a  mother's  love.  She  guides  their 
every  step  on  through  life  to  keep  them  to  the  narrow 
path  which  leads  to  life  eternal.  When  death  ap- 
proaches she  stands  by  to  assist  them  in  that  moment 
of  need.  But  she  does  not  part  with  them  there. 
Knowing  that  "there  shall  not  enter  into  heaven 
anything  defiled,"  she  follows  with  her  prayers  the 
souls  of  her  children  into  the  prision  of  Purgatory. 
Daily  she  pleads  with  God  for  mercy  and  offers  in 
atonement  for  her  suffering  children's  sins  the  merit 
of  her  grace.    During  November,  particularly,  is  her 


plaintive  prayer  incessant.  Then  she  invites  in  an 
especial  manner  her  other  children  still  in  the  flesh 
to  join  her,  that  by  united  prayer,  God  may  be  moved 
to  set  free  from  their  prison  of  woe  the  souls  of 
the  dear  departed  and  to  admit  them  to  the  joys  of 
Paradise,  there  to  praise  Him,  to  thank  Him,  and 
to  love  Him  forevermore. 

Hence,  at  this  time,  all  the  faithful,  hearkening 
to  the  invitation  of  their  Mother,  devote  more 
thought  and  time  to  their  deceased  brethren.  A 
constant  crying  appeal  for  mercy  mounts  to  heaven 
from  near  every  Catholic  heart.  The  morning  sun- 
beams, dissipating  night's  darkness  make  visible  in 
every  place  the  priest  standing  at  the  altar,  and 


THE  1*  SIGN 


gathered  about  him,  with  heads  bowed  in  prayer, 
large  numbers  of  faithful.  And  in  the  evening 
shadows,  when  the  turmoil  of  the  day  has  died  away, 
many  more  kneel  around  their  Sacramental  King, 
thumbing  their  beads ;  or  quietly  move  from  station 
to  station  piously  following  in  the  blood-stained 
foot-steps  of  the  Savior  in  the  Way  of  the  Cross. 
The  fervor  of  the  whole  Catholic  world  is  aroused; 
it  is  sustained  by  a  common  thought,  the  liberation 
of  the  poor  souls  in  Purgatory. 

It  is  the  greatest  charity  to  assist  the  poor  souls. 
Of  themselves  they  can  do  nothing  to  alleviate  their 
sorrows,  but  are  in  all  things  dependant  on  the 
charity  of  others.  Intense  is  the  pain  they  suffer 
from  the  purifying  flame,  but  their  agonizing  long- 
ing to  look  upon  the  face  of  God  causes  them  a  pain 
far  greater.  God  is  deaf  to  their  plea  for  pity;  in 
life,  His  mercy  was  at  their  beck  and  call ;  but  now, 
mercy  has  given  way  to  justice.  They  turn  in  sup- 
plication to  their  brethren  here  on  earth,  whose 
prayers  and  good  works  they  know  can  comfort 
them  and  shorten  their  detention.  From  the  depth 
of  their  misery  they  cry  out,  "Have  pity  on  me,  have 
pity  on  me,  at  least  you  my  friends,  because  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  hath  touched  me."  To  answer 
the  appeal  of  these  afflicted  ones — is  there  any 
charity  like  to  this? 

XT  is  a  duty  incumbent  upon  everyone  to  succor 
the  poor  souls,  but  especially  to  help  those 
souls  to  whom  one  is  bound  by  ties  of  blood 
and  friendship.  The  departed  have  a  claim  on  such 
as  loved  them  in  life.  Time  may  have  filled  the 
void  that  their  passing  made  in  the  home ;  time  may 
have  healed  the  wounds  that  grief  dug  in  the  heart; 
but  time  cannot  obliterate  the  obligation  of  remem- 
bering the  departed  ones  who  still  suffer  on.  Jf 
the. voices  of  the  dead  could  penetrate  the  portals 
of  death  many  stinging  rebukes  would  tingle  the  ears 
of  the  forgetful  living.  They  who  forget  have  never 
pondered  on  the  meaning  of  that  plaintive  pleading, 
"Have  pity  on  me,  have  pity  on  me,  at  least  you 
my  friends,  because  the  hand  of  the  Lord  hath 
touched  me."  They  who  so  forget  can  never  have 
brought  home  to  themselves  the  import  in  the  poet's 
words : 
"For  what  are  men  better  than  sheep  or  goats 

That  nourish  a  blind  life  within  the  brain, 
If  knowing  God,  they  lift  not  hands  of  prayer 

Both  for  themselves  and  those  who  call  them 
friends?" 

Long  ago  the  celebrated  Athenian,  Cimon,  had 


to  bear  the  sorrow  of  seeing  his  insolvent  father 
imprisoned  by  hard,  exacting  creditors.  To  add  to 
the  son's  grief  his  father  died  in  prison  before  a 
release  could  be  secured.  The  distraught  young 
man  rushed  to  the  prison  and  begged  his  father's 
body,  that,  at  least,  he  might  give  it  decent  burial. 
When  the  creditors  refused,  he  cried  out  in  a 
frenzy,  "Let  me  first  bury  my  father  and  I  will 
return  and  take  his  place  in  prison."  This  exhibi- 
tion of  filial  piety  is  worthy  of  all  admiration,  but 
it  also  deserves  imitation.  Fathers  and  mothers 
are  now  languishing  in  a  prison  with  which  no 
earthly  prison  can  be  compared  for  pain,  misery 
and  sorrow.  Brothers  and  sisters,  too,  are  there  and 
many  others  who  loved  and  were  loved  in  life. 
There  shall  they  be  until  their  debt  is  paid,  even 
to  the  last  farthing.  Relatives  and  friends  on  earth, 
if  they  will,  can  cancel  these  debts  and  set  their 
loved  ones  free.  More  fortunate  than  the  Athenian 
youth  they  need  not  enter  the  prison  house,  they 
need  not  serve  another's  term,  they  have  but  to  pray. 
"It  is  therefore  a  holy  and  wholesome  thought  to 
pray  for  the  dead,  that  they  may  be  loosed  from 
sins,"  says  the  Holy  Spirit. 

What  more  beautiful  example  of  this  christian 
duty  than  the  pathetic  prayer  of  the  Angel  of  the 
Agony  as  conceived  by  Cardinal  Newman: 

"Jesu!  by  that  shuddering  dread  which  fell  on  Thee; 
Jesu !  by  that  cold  dismay  which  sickened  Thee ; 
Jesu!  by  that  pang  of  heart  which  thrilled  in  Thee; 
Jesu!  by  that  mount  of  sins  which  crippled  Thee; 
Jesu!  by  the  sense  of  guilt  which  stifled  Thee; 
Jesu!  by  that  innocence  whch  girdled  Thee; 
Jesu !  by  that  sanctity  which  reigned  in  Thee ; 
Jesu !  by  that  Godhead  which  was  one  with  Thee ; 
Jesu!  spare  these  souls  which  are  so  dear  to  Thee, 
Who  in  prison,  calm  and  patient,  wait  for  Thee; 
Hasten,  Lord,  their  hour,  and  bid  them  come  to  Thee, 
To  that  glorious  Home,  where  they  shall  ever  gaze 
on  Thee." 

Sweet  supplications  like  to  these,  addressed  to 
the  tender  Heart  of  the  Crucified,  and  hallowed  by 
reminiscences  of  His  bitter  sufferings  for  souls,  shall 
not  fail  to  draw  down  gentle  and  plentiful  showers  of 
graces  to  refresh  His  languishing  ones  in  their  night 
of  pain. 

To  pray  for  the  dead  is  an  act  of  great  charity. 
To  pray  for  the  dead  is  a  duty.  To  pray  for  the 
dead  is  to  sever  one's  bands  by  anticipation,  for 
whatever  the  living  do  for  the  dead,  the  Saints 
assure  us,  shall  be  remunerated  a  hundredfold. 


Whereon   The})   Crucified   Him 


Hubert  Cunni 

OEVOTION  to  the  passion  of  Christ  is  the 
most  ancient,  it  is  the  first  of  all  catholic 
devotions  and  showed  itself  very  common- 
ly by  reverence  for  the  holy  cross  even 
before  the  year  300.  We  can  follow  this  beautiful 
spirit  back  through  the  mists  and  the  mazes  of  all 
the  intervening  centuries  with  a  clearness  that  is 
unmistakable  and  by  evidences  made  up  of  authentic 
statements  and  historical  facts.  These  testimonies 
show  us  that  the  piety  of  our  ancestors  to  that 
solemn  sign  was  one  of  the  best  known  traits  of 
their  religion. 

They  held  up  that  standard  at  all  times.  For 
example,  Minutius  Felix,  a  practising  Roman  lawyer, 
born  of  a  pagan  family  about  the  year  250,  became 
in  later  life  a  convert  to  Christianity.  In  a  work 
entitled  "Octavius"  he  publicly  defended  the  faith 
and  its  followers  against  the  cruel  attacks  and  false 
ideas  of  his  former  fellows  at  the  bar.  The  Romans 
of  that  period  were  very  much  like  our  own  Ameri- 
cans of  to-day;  they  were  proud  of  their  national 
prestige  and  prerogatives,  their  liberty  and  inde- 
pendence, and  so  they  recoiled  from  anything  that 
savored  of  slavery  or  subjection;  and  because  cruci- 
fixion was  the  punishment  of  the  slave  they  despised 
the  cross  and  everything  associated  with  it;  they 
knew  that  the  christians  deeply  venerated  that 
dreaded  instrument  and  that  was  enough;  the 
Romans  despised  them  and  their  symbol.  The  con- 
verted .  lawyer  had  learned  much  of  both  and  he 
loved  his  new-found  friends  and  saw  that  their  cross 
was  so  prominent  and  prevalent  that  he  boldly 
declared,  "you  proud  Romans  had  better  beware  lest 
perchance  you  be  actually  honoring  what  you  really 
despise — lest  you  are  adoring  in  your  idols  the  wood 
which  we  christians  have  already  used  for  making 
crosses." 

That  looks  very  much  as  though  in  the  middle 
of  the  third  century  the  followers  of  Jesus  were 
trying  to  out-Titus  Titus.  The  historian  Josephus 
tells  us  that  in  the  seige  of  Jerusalem  that  general 
crucified  Jews  till  there  was  no  longer  to  be  found 
wood  for  the  making  of  crosses;  our  forefathers  in 
the  days  of  Minutius  Felix  were  using  up  all  the 
wood  in  Rome  to  make  crosses  of  love! 

Earlier   than   this   the    fervent    attachment    of 


ngham,  C.  P. 

christians  to  that  mysterious  wood  can  be  read  in  the 
works  of  Tertullian,  born  in  160  A.  D.  He  was  a 
deep  scholar,  an  elegant  writer  and  a  daring  public 
defender  and  advocate  of  Christ  and  all  that  was 
His,  like  Bishop  England  in  the  days  of  our  fore- 
fathers in  the  United  States  and  Cardinal  Gibbons 
in  our  own  time.  Tertullian  can  very  aptly  be  called 
the  Defender  of  the  Cross;  that  sacred  subject  comes 
up  in  his  writings  in  such  a  variety  of  phases  as  to 
convince  the  reader  that  it  is  the  dominant  thought 
of  that  wonderful  man's  mind,  yet  his  works  date 
a  hundred  years  earlier  than  the  lifetime  of  Minutius 
Felix.  It  is  not  unreasonable  to  conclude  that  Tertul- 
lian's  grandfather  was  living  in  the  days  of  the 
Apostle  St.  John,  and  thus  we  steadily  creep  back 
further  and  further  finding  as  we  go  that  our  favorite 
devotion  is  strongly  evident  along  the  way.  This 
great  mind  tells  us  that  in  his  day  to  the  eyes  of 
the  devout  catholic,  "every  upright  stick  stands  for 
a  portion  of  the  cross."  This  brings  us  face  to  face 
with  the  truth  that  devotion  to  the  sacred  wood  was 
fervent  and  universal  in  the  middle  of  the  second 
century,  that  is,  within  one  hundred  years  after  the 
death  of  Our  Savior. 

©UT  we  can  go  back  sixty  years  earlier  than 
Tertullian  and  still  meet  even  more  and 
equally  inspiring  evidences  of  the  same  truth 
in  him  who  was  the  earliest  of  the  great  men  called 
apologists,  men  who  stood  before  the  world  and 
propounded  and  defended  with  the  powers  of  their 
voice  and  pen  the  teachings  and  the  practices  of  the 
Church  of  Christ,  I  mean  the  great  philosopher,  saint 
and  martyr,  Justin.  This  remarkable  man  was  born 
in  Greece  where  he  studied  and  where  he  became 
a  master  of  the  philosophy  of  Plato.  He  was  born 
a  pagan,  but  in  the  course  of  his  young  manhood 
and  first  successes  he  received  the  light  of  faith  and 
went  to  live  in  Rome  where  he  wrote  and  addressed 
to  the  Emporer  Augustus  his  "Apology  for  the 
Christians"  or  what  we  would  today  call  a  Defense 
of  the  Church  of  Christ.  After  the  death  of  this 
Emperor,  Justin  returned  to  his  same  labors  and  sent 
a  new  apology  to  the  succeeding  ruler.  These  are 
but  some  of  the  daring  acts  and  learned  writings 
of  that  great  and  versatile  man.    We  are  not  exactly 


THE  f  SIGN 


concerned  with  these  more  than  to  say  that  they 
ultimately  led  him  to  martyrdom.  But  so  exalted 
were  this  man's  sentiments  toward  the  sign  of  our 
religion  that  he  says,  "the  cross  is  the  greatest  sign 
of  the  power  and  majesty  of  Christ."  He  follows 
up  this  statement  by  elaborate  expositions  and  turn- 
ing upon  his  opponents,  hurls  at  them  the  absurdity 
of  condemning  in  others  what  is  in  constant  evidence 
and  necessary  use  by  all — a  cross  in  one  form  or 
other,  on  land  and  sea,  in  life  and  death;  but  he 
drives  the  argument  in  upon  them  with  convincing 
vigor  when  he  says : — "You  are  carrying  that  hated 
figure  in  honor  and  even  triumph  but  you  are  too 
dull  of  sense  to  see  it.  And  where?  There  at  the 
head  of  your  public  processions.  The  poles  and  bars 
from  which  your 
banners  wave  and 
trophies  hang  — > 
what  are  these  but 
crosses?  "  The 
sacred  figure  of 
Christ,  indeed,  runs 
all  through  Justin's 
writings.  In  his 
extant  writings 
Justin  brings  up 
the  holy  cross 
thirty  six  different 
times.  In  one  work 
alone,  his  "Dia- 
logue with  Try- 
pho,"  he  deals  with 
that  venerable 
topic  in  seven  consecutive  chapters. 

Food  of  this  kind  fed  to  the  soul  of  the  Catholic 
of  today  is  strengthening  and  inspiring.  It  is  all  so 
real,  so  solid,  so  satisfying.  It  is  so  plain  and  so 
plentiful,  and  withal'  so  pleasing  to  our  catholic 
palate,  that  we  are  compelled  to  pause  in  the  midst 
of  the  growing  thoughts  and  marvel  that  a  practice 
so  homely  with  us  today  is  really  so  ancient.  The 
vision  which  it  produces  of  the  unchanging  features 
of  our  Holy  Mother  the  Church  and  the  undimmed 
brightness  of  every  line  of  her  figure  and  every  fold 
of  her  raiment  makes  the  lips  smile  and  the  heart 
peaceful.  How  true  that  she  never  changes!  Ever 
ancient,  she  is  ever  new  in  all  her  life  and  activity. 
This  shines  forth  in  her  devotion  to  the  Passion  even 
in  the  detail  of  her  delicate  reverence  for  the  death- 
bed of  her  spouse.  We  can  see  this  as  far  back  as 
the  beginning  of  the  second  century. 


Facts,  not  words  impress  these  convictions  and 
sentiments  both  on  mind  and  heart.  The  worth  of 
the  quotations  which  we  have  hitherto  given  lies 
mainly  in  the  conditions  which  they  reveal  and 
which  their  citation  was  intended  to  display.  We 
want  to  know  not  what  the  early  christians  say, 
so  much  as  what  the  early  christians  do :  not  what 
a  few  of  them  say  but  what  all  of  them  do. 
Christian  faith  is  a  vital  fact;  it  is  the  most  practical, 
fruitful  thing  in  all  this  world  and  so  if  devoton  is 
true  it  is  a  matter-of-fact  affair  in  its  results  and  the 
devotion  of  His  disciples  to  the  sufferings  of  the 
Nazarene  in  those  days  was  a  living,  vigorous  thing; 


so  vigorous  that  we  can  see 
edifying  lives. 


foyi 

■ 
I 

HSH^^fe^T/^^ 

WmM. 

■  *«t  •       ,f  ;-'-»;> 

^S@l|| 

V 

m 

CRYPT    OF    ST.    CECIL 
Note  the  simple  cross  depicted  on 


it  even  yet  in  their 

The  Roman 
catacombs  immedi- 
ately stand  out  as 
one  of  these  con- 
vincing facts.  Let 
us  recall  the  senti- 
ments entertained 
by  the  Romans  for 
their  legal  gibbet; 
they  saw  this  hated 
thing  flaunted  in 
their  faces  by  the 
christians  and 
turned  bitter  con- 
tempt upon  them 
and  that  symbol, 
put  their  feelings 
into  facts,  pursued 
and  persecuted  that  sign  till  they  literally  drove 
cross  and  christian  off  the  face  of  the  earth  and 
compelled  them  to  bore  out  a  dwelling  place  under 
the  soil.  There  in  gloom  and  fear  these  hated 
people  and  loving  hearts  paraded  their  standard 
until  Constantine  stamped  it  on  his  oriflamme  and 
made  cross  and  christian  free. 

X  STOOD  one  time  before  a  grave,  a  tiny,  age- 
worn  grave,  and  on  the  marble  slab  I  read 
the  words  "Rufina,  Rest  in  Peace."  Above 
these  simple  words  I  noticed  a  plain  cross  carved. 
The  composite  told  me  the  story  of  holy  sorrow, 
holy  love  and  holy  confidence  in  the  merits  of  the 
passion  of  Christ.  It  was  the  usual  story  which  the 
writer  and  the  reader  have  seen  traced  a  thousand 
times  in  the  cemetries  all  the  country  over.  How- 
ever, I  was  not  in  one  of  our  American  cemeteries; 


bare  rock   near   the  ceil 


THE  +  SIGN 


I  was  in  the  Roman  catacombs  looking  on  one  of  the 
most  convincing  proofs  of  early  Catholic  devotion 
to  the  cross.  It  has  ever  been  "Unica  Spes  Nostra." 
— Our  Only  Hope. 

Anterior  to  the  Christian  Catacombs  Calvary's 
consecrated  wood  was  revered  and  its  copyings  were 
used  by  the  devout  so  openly,  so  defiantly,  so  uni- 
versally that  it  became  their  characteristic  mark 
and  this  so  much  so  that  it  was  known  to  every  man 
and  woman  as  the  christians'  badge;  it  marked  them 
of  from  their  non-christian  associates  as  clearly  as 
it  today  forms  the  distinguishing  mark  between 
our  own  and  the  non-catholic  churches  around  us. 
The  brat  on  the  street  was  taught  even  then,  as  he 
was  taught  in  our  own  country  and  in  our  own  youth, 
to  sneer  at  his  christian  neighbor  boys  as  so  many 
crossmarked  donkies.  This  is  a  bitter  and  an  time- 
worn  insult  which  millions  of  us  have  been  com- 
pelled to  suffer,  but  here  it  is  another  example  of 
how  God  (and  He  alone  can)  is  able  to  draw  good 
out  of  evil :  here  and  now  it  becomes  invaluable 
evidence  in  point  for  we  can  trace  its  origin  back 
to  Tacitus.  This  man  was  one  of  the  greatest  orators 
of  his  time  and  is  celebrated  as  an  historian.  He 
was  born  in  55  A.  D.  or  only  twenty  two  years  after 
the  tragedy  of  Calvary  and  so  our  studies  show  us 
that  devotion  to  the  holy  cross  and  passion  of  Jesus 
was  common,  public,  well  known  by  friend  and  foe, 
by  the  old  and  the  young  even  before  the  year 
100  A.  D.  What  we  do  to-day  when  we  kiss  the 
cross  our  ancestors  were  doing  within  fifty  years 
after  Calvary  saw  the  work  of  our  redemption. 

Success  is  the  very  best  stimulant  to  labor  and 
that  is  why  the  discovery  of  these  accumulating 
evidences  urges  us  to  go  on  further  in  the  hope 
of  finding  even  more.  The  hope  is  well  founded 
and  the  efforts  are  well  rewarded.  In  recent  times 
there  has  been  unearthed  the  most  ancient  christian 
monument  in  the  world  and  (how  gratifying  to  be 
able  to  say  it!)  that  is  nothing  other  than  a  cross. 
Yes,  it  is  true  and  there  it  stands  in  bold  relief 
against  a  stucco  background  on  the  walls  of  a 
christian  home — on  Pansa's  house  in  the  ruins  of 
Pompeii! 

Think  of  what  this  means  in  the  interesting 
cause  for  which  we  are  contending.  We  know  that 
Pompeii  and  Herculaneum,  twin  cities  of  southern 
sunny  Italy,  were  the  favorite  and  exclusive  resorts 
of  the  powerful  and  wealthy  families  of  Rome,  like 
the  Newports  and  the  Palm  Beaches  of  our  own 
land;     these    were    the    centres    of    all    the    social 


grandeur  and  luxury  that  great  wealth  and  refined 
sensuality  could  crave.  We  also  know  that  in  the 
year  79  A.  D.,  these  two  cities  were  suddenly  and 
completely  destroyed  by  the  eruptions  of  Mount 
Vesuvius.  Now,  it  is  a  fact  of  church  history,  or 
better  still,  of  such  pagan  historians  as  Tacitus, 
Suetonius  and  Dio  Cassius,  the  later  of  whom  is 
famous  not  only  for  his  elegance  of  style,  but  for  his 
diligence  in  the  search  for  truth  and  the  accuracy 
of  his  data,  that  even  during  the  lifetime  of  the  Holy 
Apostles  men  and  women,  even  whole  families  of 
the  Roman  upper  classes  and  of  the  highest  nobility 
became  christians.  The  home  of  Pansa  is  a  strong 
confirmation  of  such  statements.  Only  forty-six 
years  have  passed  since  the  Passion  and  Death  of 
Jesus  Christ  in  Jerusalem,  less  than  ten  years  since 
the  martyrdom  of  SS  Peter  and  Paul  and,  better  still 
while  the  Beloved  Disciple,  St.  John,  was  still  living 
and  in  the  height  of  his  active  work  and  ministry,  not 
only  has  the  faith  reached  over  these  many  miles 
from  Jerusalem  to  the  wondrous  bay  of  Naples  and 
into  the  most  exclusive  circles  of  Roman  wealth 
and  power,  but  step  by  step  with  it  has  come  devo- 
tion to  the  gibbet  of  Calvary.  Therefore  this  family 
of  Pansa,  with  a  simplicity  which  rivals  as  it  ante- 
dates the  ages  of  faith,  and  with  a  boldness  that  is 
a  keen  rebuke  to  the  prevailing  shyness  and  cowar- 
dice of  our  own  day,  though  they  know  they  will 
thereby  make  themselves  a  term  of  contempt  to 
thousands  of  their  old  friends  and  neighbors,  rise 
superior  to  the  coldness  and  disdain  that  is  turned 
upon  them  from  the  wealthy  pagans  about  and  they 
mould  the  sign  of  Christ  on  the  walls  of  their  home. 
Why?  Because  they  are  christians  and  christians 
glory  in  the  cross.  They  want  to  do  as  the  christians 
do,  as  all  christians  do  around  them,  and  in  the  year 
70  A.  D.,  every  christian  is  a  cross-bearer. 

nERE  is  the  church  only  forty  years  after  com- 
ing forth  from  the  riven  side  of  her  Divine 
Founder  radiating  a  spirit  of  love  and 
reverence  for  the  hard  bed  on  which  she  was  born. 
What  is  the  explanation?  How  came  these  first 
christians  thus  spontaneously  to  love  that  instrument 
of  death  which  all  the  world  besides  hated  and 
shrank  from?  It  is  because  they  were  taught  to 
love  the  cross  by  the  Apostles  themselves.  The 
newly  converted  christians  along  the  shores  of  the 
Mediterranean  had  heard  St.  Paul  proclaiming  in 
words  of  fire  the  wisdom  and  the  power  and  the 


THE  +  SIGN 


glory  of  the  cross — "I  am  a  christian  and  God 
forbid  that  I  should  glory  save  in  the  shame  of  my 
Master  and  that  shame  is  expressed  in  the  double- 
dyed  degradaton  of  His  cross,  through  which  the 
world  and  all  the  wealth  and  all  the  honor  and  all 
the  pleasure  of  the  world  is  dead  to  me.  I  am  dead 
to  the  world  and  with  Christ  I  am  nailed  to  the 
cross;  I  carry  all  the  marks  of  that  cross  and  death 
with  me  constantly  not  on  walls  of  brick  or  cut  in 
stone  but  in  my  very  body  are  they  dug."  The 
inspiring  story  of  the  Master  and  His  wonders  and 
His  love  and  His  cruel  and  unjust  death  had  been 


held  before  his  hearers  by  every  preacher;  some 
of  the  early  christians  had  been  eye-witnesses  of 
the  martyrdom  of  the  Apostles  every  one  of  whom 
had  not  only  preached  the  cross  but  died  for  love 
of  the  passion  and  death  of  the  Master.  It  was 
from  these  that  the  first  christians  learned — from 
their  words,  from  their  conduct,  from  their  suffer- 
ings, from  their  love,  from  their  death — that  the 
cross  of  Christ  is  the  greatest  thing  in  all  the  world. 
Devotion  to  the  cross  was  first  taught  and  first 
practiced  by  the  apostles  and  they  learn  the  lesson 
from  Mount  Calvary. 


A    Vision    of   the    Day 


y^^ORE  than  three  quarters  of  a  century  has 
vL£  elapsed  since  the  great  impartial  Englishman, 
Cardinal  Newman,  saw  Ireland  moving  slowly 
but  surely  toward  her  emancipation.  Thus  did 
he  contemplate  Erin  freed  from  her  thraldom  and 
restored  at  last  to  her  rightful  heritage  among  the 
nations :  "I  look  toward  a  land  both  old  and  young 
— old  in  its  Christianity,  young  in  its  promise  of 
the  future.  A  Church  which  comprehends  in  its 
history   the   rise   of   Canterbury   and   York,  which 


Augustine  and  Paulinus  and  Pole  and  Fisher  left 
behind  them.  I  contemplate  a  people  which  has  had 
a  long  night,  and  will  have  an  inevitable  day.  I 
am  turning  my  eyes  toward  a  hundred  years  to  come, 
and  I  dimly  see  the  Ireland  I  am  gazing  on  become 
the  road  of  passage  and  union  between  the  two 
hemispheres  and  the  center  of  the  world;  I  see  the 
inhabitants  rival  Belgium  in  populousness,  France 
in  vigor  and  Spain  in  enthusiasm." 


A    Lo))al    Sold 


BPASSIONIST  Father,  who  served  as  chap- 
lain in  the  Italian  Army  during  the  world 
war,  tells  us  that  he  was  an  eye  witness  of 
the  following  edifying  incident: 

"While  stationed  with  a  regiment  from  Fanteria 
on  the  Carso,"  he  writes,  "I  made  the  acquaintance 
of  Major  Francis  Rizzo.  A  close  friendship  grew 
up  between  us.  I  was  delighted  to  learn  that  from 
childhood  he  had  always  loved  the  Sacred  Passion, 
and  never  went  anywhere  without  having  about  his 
person  a  small  crucifix. 

"On  the  29th  of  June  1916,  our  regiment  re- 
ceived orders  to  move  up  to  the  front  line.  We  were 
soon  afterwards  in  the  thick  of  the  fighting,  and  the 
Major  was  one  of  the  first  to  fall  mortally  wounded. 
We  carried  him  to  the  field  hospital,  his  mouth 
bleeding  profusely.  He  held  his  little  crucifix 
tightly  in  his  hands,  and  again  and  again  put  it  to 


ier    of    Christ 

his  mouth  as  a  solace  in  his  agony.  Unable  to  speak, 
and  death  swiftly  coming  on,  he  made  a  sign  to  write 
and  with  trembling  hand  scrawled  these  few 
words : 

"I  dearly  love  my  whole  faith  and  my  whole 
country.  I  bless  God  for  this  death,  to  die  for  my 
fair  and  great  Italy.  Conquer;  conquer;  courage; 
courage;  trust,  constancy  in  God's  help.  Farewell. 
Farewell.  Blessed  be  God.  I  love  you  all.  Farewell, 
my  family,  my  fellow  citizens  of  Salentino,  my  noble 
land  of  Puglia.  Again  may  God  be  forever  blessed. 
Francis  Rizzo,  major,  14  Fanteria. 

"The  pencil  dropped  from  his  fingers.  Again 
and  again  he  pressed  his  crucifix  to  his  bleeding 
mouth.  As  the  bystanders  with  indescribable 
emotion  watched  him,  the  brave  soldier  of  Christ 
Crucified  departed  from  the  field  of  battle  to  enjoy 
in  heaven  the  fruits  of  eternal  victory." 


The   White   Rose  of  Lucca 

The  Storp   of  Gemma  Galgani 

MATTHEW    KUEBEL 
4 — Tke    Marks    of    the    Lord    Jesus 


M^'HE  Spring  of  the  year  1899  saw  the  end 
a  C\  of  Gemma's  long  and  painful  illness  and 
^^^V  ushered  in  a  new  period  of  her  life, — a 
period  crowded  with  those  external  super- 
natural manifestations  which  have  made  her  unique 
in  the  annals  of  Christian  holiness,  and  have  made 
her  name  familiar  throughout  the  Christian  world. 
Through  affliction  she  would  be  transformed  into  a 
seraph  of  love,  and  her  pure  soul  adorned  with 
virtues  as  with  so  many  precious  jewels.  By  constant 
communion  with  God  she  now  lived  more  in  heaven 
than  on  earth. 

Lovingly  Gemma's  heart  now  turned  to  the  ful- 
filment of  the  vow,  made  on  her  sick-bed,  of  enter- 
ing the  religious  life.  With  intense  ardor  her  soul 
was  straining,  as  it  were,  on  the  wings  of  desire  to 
enter  religion,  which,  in  her  eyes  was  a  mystic  city 
and  a  holy  commonwealth  resplendent  with  the  light 
of  the  Lord's  majesty.  She  asked  to  be  received  at 
the  Convent  of  the  Visitation.  The  nuns  were  will- 
ing and  even  glad  to  admit  her,  so  her  confessor 
undertook  to  arrange  the  preliminaries  necessary  for 
her  reception.  But  obstacles  arose  and  the  misgiv- 
ings of  the  ecclesiastical  authorities  as  to  Gemma's 
ability  to  fulfill  certain  canonical  conditions  were 
not  dispelled,  so  that  they  remained  unmoved  in  their 
refusal  to  allow  the  nuns  to  receive  her. 

Therefore,  Gemma's  future  path  was  shrouded 
in  mystery.  She  was  greatly  perplexed  at  her  un- 
successful efforts  to  do  what  our  Lord  had  apparent- 
ly so  clearly  commanded  her  to  undertake:  "Renew 
all  thy  promises  to  Jesus,  and  add  that  in  the  month 
consecrated  to  Him  (June),  thou  also  wilt  go  to 
consecrate  thyself  to  Him."  Was  this  not  a  clear 
call  to  the  religious  life  ?  The  darkness  of  uncertain- 
ty in  which  she  was  walking  did  not  permit  her  to 
see  the  distant  scene — a  circumstance  that  was  really 
a  tender  mercy.  Resolute  as  she  was  in  God's  service, 
how  could  the  gentle  girl  but  be  terrified  had  she 
been  permitted  to  see  in  advance  and  in  all  the 
vivid  truth  of  detail  whither  her  feet  were  directed 
— the  mount  of  immolation  and  the  altar  of  sacrifice ! 


Even  now  the  time  was  at  hand  which  God  had 
chosen  for  the  immolation  of  this  victim  without 
blemish. 

God  took  care  to  prepare  the  sweet  girl  gradu- 
ally for  the  sacrifices  that  He  was  about  to  demand 
of  her.  Evidently  it  was  God's  will  that  in  the  fulfil- 
ment of  His  purpose  to  make  her  a  reflection  of  the 
Crucified,  she  should  have  the  merit  of  a  sacrifice 
wholly  voluntary.  By  means  of  the  most  powerful 
and  sweetest  attractions  of  grace  it  came  to  pass  that 
God's  designs  over  Gemma  were  the  only  object  of 
all  her  desires.  The  heart-rending  visions  of  the 
Crucified  with  which  she  was  favored  and  by  which 
the  wounds  of  Jesus  were  impressed  indelibly  on 
her  soul,  gave  to  her  holy  desires  new  impulse. 
Henceforth  she  prayed  with  tearful  earnestness  for 
the  grace  of  participation  in  the  Savior's  pains. 

>~-f"T  the  same  time  a  heavenly  voice  was  con- 

1 I    tinually  urging  her  to  go  on  courageously  to 

higher  and  better  things.  "Rise,  take  cour- 
age," said  the  voice,  "abandon  thyself  without  re- 
serve to  Jesus;  love  Him  with  all  thy  being."  These 
words  added  zest  to  her  holy  desires  :"0  my  Jesus, 
how  greatly  I  wish  to  love  Thee!  but  I  don't  know 
how."  And  the  answer  came:  "Dost  thou  wish  to 
love  Jesus  always  ?  Never  cease  even  for  a  moment 
to  suffer  for  Him.  The  cross  is  the  throne  of  the 
true  lover;  the  cross  is  the  patrimony  of  the  elect  in 
this  life.''  And  at  last  when  all  was  ready,  this 
word  came  to  her  from  Heaven  :  "Gemma,  courage ! 
I  await  thee  on  Calvary,  on  that  mount  whither 
thy  feet  are  directed."  Thus  the  immaculate  white- 
ness of  a  soul  elevated  to  the  highest  peaks  of  per- 
fection and  glorified  by  the  golden  light  of  heaven, 
was  soon  to  be  overcast  (or  rather  say,  embellished), 
with  the  crimson  hue  and  solemn  shade  of  Calvary. 
The  eighth  of  June,  1899,  was  the  day  on  which 
God  chose  to  glorify  before  the  Christian  world 
the  humble  virgin  of  Lucca.  That  morning  after 
communion  our  Lord  gave  her  to  understand  that 
today  He  would  grant  her  a  great  grace.     It  was 


THE  f 

Thursday,  the  vigil  of  the  feast  of  the  Sacred  Heart. 
In  the  evening,  while  Gemma  was  engaged  in  her 
usual  devotions  in  honor  of  the  Sacred  Passion,  she 
was  suddenly  wrapped  out  of  her  senses,  and  found 
herself  in  the  presence  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  and 
her  Guardian  Angel.  They  were  there  no  doubt  to 
support  her  in  the  painful  ordeal  which  she  was 
about  to  undergo.  Then  the  Virgin  Mary  opened 
her  mantel  and  covered  her  with  it.  "At  that 
moment,"  she  tells  us,  Jesus  appeared  with  all  his 
wounds  open;  but" 
from  these  wounds 
there  no  longer 
came  forth  blood 
but  flames  of  fire. 
In  an  instant  those 
flames  came  to 
touch  my  hands, 
my  feet,  and  my 
heart.  I  felt  as  if 
I  were  dying,  and 
should  have  fallen 
to  the  ground  had 
not  my  Mother 
held  me  up,  while 
all  the  time  I  re- 
mained beneath 
her  mantle.  I  had 
to  remain  several 
hours  in  that  posi- 
tion. Finally,  she 
kissed  my  fore- 
head, all  vanished, 
and  I  found  my- 
self kneeling;  but 
I  still  felt  great 
pains  in  my  hands, 
and    feet,    and  _  " 

heart.  I  rose  to  go  to  bed,  and  became  aware  that 
blood  was  flowing  from  those  parts  where  I  felt 
pain.  I  covered  them  as  well  as  I  could,  and  then 
helped  by  my  angel  I  was  able  to  get  into  bed.  In 
the  morning  I  felt  it  difficult  to  go  to  Holy  Com- 
munion, and  I  put  on  a  pair  of  gloves  to  hide  my 
hands.  I  could  not  remain  standing  and  felt  every 
moment  that  I  should  die.  Those  pains  did  not  leave 
me  until  three  o'clock  on  Friday — feast  of  the 
Sacred  Heart." 

It  is  impossible  within  the  narrow  limits  of  this 
sketch  to  narrate  all  the  details  of  Gemma's  mystic 
martyrdom.      But    a    brief    summary    of    its    more 


SIGN 

general  features  must  not  be  omitted.  These  my- 
sterious sufferings  always  began  on  Thursday  even- 
ing and  always  ceased  on  Friday  afternoon.  They 
occurred  regularly  every  week  for  two  years,  when 
they  ceased  altogether  in  virtue  of  a  formal  command 
imposed  on  Gemma  by  her  confessor — a  command 
that  God  deigned  to  honor. 


w 


The  Query 

Nicholas  Ward 
I  asked  the  heavens:  What  foe  to  God  hath  done 

This  unexampled  deed?  The  heavens  exclaim: 
'  Twas  man;  and  we  in  horror  snatched  the  sun 

From  such  a  spectacle  of  guilt  and  shame." 
I  asked  the  sea:  the  sea  in  fury  boiled 

And  answered  with  its  voice  of  storms:  "  'Twas  man! 
My  waves  in  panic  at  his  crime  recoiled, 

Disclosed  th'  abyss,  and  from  earth's  center  ran." 
I  asked  the  earth;  the  earth  replied  agast: 
"  'Twas  man!   and  such  strange  pangs  my   bosom  rent 
That  still  I  groan,  and  shudder  at  the  past. 

To  man,  gay,  smiling,  thoughtless  man  I  went 
And  asked  him  next;  —  he  turned  a  scornful  eye, 

Shook  his  proud  head,  but  gave  me  no  reply! 


ITH  Gemma  the  stigmata,  as  these  wounds 
are  called,  opened  in  various  ways:  some- 
times they  came 
gradually  from 
within;  at  others 
they  appeared  in- 
stantaneously, as 
if  the  ecstatic's 
hands  were  sud- 
denly transpierced 
with  some  sharp 
instrument,  —  the 
manner  of  the  ap- 
pearance of  the 
wounds  always 
depending  on  the 
strength  of  the 
inner  fire  of  Di- 
vine Love.  When 
the  wounds  ap- 
peared a  copious 
flow  of  blood,  of 
course,  always  fol- 
lowed ;  but  the 
bleeding  was  not 
continual  as  long 
as  the  wounds  re- 
mained. It  came 
and  went  at  irreg- 
ular  intervals, 
waxing  and  waning  with  the  impulses  of  Divine 
Love  in  her  soul. 

But  the  five  wounds  were  not  the  only  'marks 
of  the  Lord  Jesus'  that  Gemma  was  destined  to  bear 
on  her  virginal  body.  Chosen  by  God  to  be  the 
spouse  of  His  Crucified  Son,  Gemma  was  enriched 
and  adorned  with  all  those  wounds  that  rendered 
Him  in  His  human  nature  so  infinitely  dear  to  the 
Father. 

With  spontaneous  generosity  and  whole-hearted 
courage  Gemma  co-operated  with  God's  designs. 
When  she  was  favored  with  a  vision  of  Jesus  muti- 
lated and  bleeding  as  if   fresh   from  the   scourge, 


"HE  +  .SIGN 


Gemma  would  count  those  wounds  with  loving 
sorrow,  begging  Him  meanwhile  to  allow  her  to 
share  His  wounds.  When  an  angel  displaying  two 
crowns — one  of  lillies  and  the  other  of  thorns — 
invited  her  to  take  her  choice,  she  grasped  the 
thorny  one  with  amorous  impetuosity,  kissed  it  and 
pressed  it  to  her  heart,  exclaming,  "Give  me  that 
of  Jesus."  So  it  was  with  her  other  visions  of  the 
Passion — the  intensity  of  her  compassionate  grief 
could  be  assuaged  only  by  participation  in  all  the 
sufferings  of  Christ. 

Therefore,  when  as  if  agonizng  with  Him  in 
the  garden,  the  crimson  perspiration  ran  down  her 
face  and  bedewed  her  whole  body;  when  her  hair 
was  matted  with  blood  from  innumerable  apertures 
in  her  scalp,  as  if  it  had  been  pricked  in  so  many 
places  by  sharp  thorns;  when  her  body  was  furrowed 
by  deep  and  bleeding  gashes,  like  the  brutal  lacera- 
tions of  the  scourge;  when  her  soul  was  inundated 
with  the  bitter  waters  of  dereliction  such  as  engulfed 
the  Redeemer,  and  the  palor  of  her  countenance, 
the  drawn  mouth,  the  sunken  eyes  and  cheeks,  the 
laboring  breath  told  of  the  martyrdom  that  she 
endured, — all  was  but  the  answer  to  her  own  ardent 
prayer;  all  was  but  so  much  ineffable  consolation 
to  her  heroic  soul  from  the  infinite  bounty  of  God. 

HOR  a  long  time  Gemma  kept  her  miraculous 
wounds  a  secret,  for  she  had  a  keen  repug- 
nance to  speak  of  herself,  even  to  her  con- 
fessor. Only  her  aunt  learned  of  the  stigmata  at  the 
time  that  Gemma  received  them;  for  the  morning 
after  the  wounds  appeared  for  the  first  time,  feeling 
the  need  of  telling  someone,  Gemma  with  outstretch- 
ed arms  approached  her  aunt  and  said  with  touching 
simplicity:  "Look,  aunt,  see  what  Jesus  has  done 
to  me."  Shocked  at  first  to  see  her  niece's  hands 
bleeding  and  pierced  with  large  wounds,  the  aunt 
later  came  to  understand  the  mystery. 

Not  until  the  end  of  July  did  Gemma  tell  her 
secret  to  the  priest;  and  it  is  an  interesting  co-inci- 
dence that  the  first  confessor  to  hear  from  Gemma's 
own  lips  the  story  of  her  miraculous  wounds  was  a 
Passionist.  When  towards  the  end  of  June  a  Pas- 
sionist  mission  was  opened  at  the  Cathedral  in 
Lucca,  Gemma  decided  to  make  the  holy  mission. 
She  was  profoundly  moved,  she  tells  us,  when  she 
saw  that  the  habit  of  the  missionaries  was  exactly 
like  the  garb  that  St.  Gabriel  wore  in  the  visions  of 
him  with  which  she  had  recently  been  favored,  and 


immediately  she  felt  a  predelection  for  the  mission- 
aries. 

On  the  last  day  of  the  mission  at  the  general 
communion,  our  Lord  spoke  to  Gemma,  asking  her 
with  reference  to  the  missionary  whether  she  liked 
the  habit  of  the  Passionists,  and  whether  she  would 
like  to  be  clothed  in  it.  These  words  filled  her  with 
such  emotion  that  she  was  unable  to  answer.  Then 
Jesus  added :  "Thou  shalt  be  a  child  of  my  Passion, 
and  a  beloved  child.  One  of  these  shall  be  thy 
Father;  go  and  explain  everyhing." 

Gemma  was  overjoyed  at  these  words,  for,  as 
she  thought,  they  explicitly  promised  that  she  would 
one  day  be  a  Passionist  nun,  and  that  thus  her 
longing  to  become  a  religious  would  eventually  be 
gratified.  Immediately,  as  if  her  soul  had  been 
delivered  from  the  shackles  of  some  malignant 
charm,  all  her  aversion  to  tell  her  holy  secret  passed 
away. 

One  Father  Cajetan  was  the  missionary  to 
whom  Gemma  went  and  revealed  all  the  wonderful 
things  that  God  had  wrought  in  her.  The  priest 
was  very  deeply  impressed  by  her  sublime  narrative; 
but  much  more  so,  by  the  candor,  the  simplicity, 
the  humility,  of  which  Gemma's  every  word  was 
redolent  in  the  telling.  He  gave  her  prudent  counsel 
and  ended  by  urging  her  to  reveal  everything  to  her 
confessor  without  delay. 

^I"- ^SATER  on  when  the  missionary  returned  to 
It  Lucca,  he  had  the  consolation  of  verifying 
Gemma's  story  by  witnessing  with  his  own 
eyes  her  miraculous  wounds.  He  made  a  formal 
statement  to  Monsignor  Volpi,  Gemma's  confessor, 
both  of  what  he  had  seen  as  well  as  of  his  conviction 
that  its  origin  was  divine.  Soon  after  to  Father 
Cajetan's  attestation  was  added  that  of  the  Provin- 
cial of  the  Passionists,  Father  Peter  Mareschini, 
afterwards  Archbishop  of  Camerino,  who  came  to 
Lucca  on  the  20th  of  August,  1899,  and  also  had  the 
privilege  of  seeing  Gemma's  miraculous  wounds. 

The  sublime  favors  that  we  have  enumerated 
were  bestowed  upon  Gemma  while  living  at  No.  3 
via  del  Briscione,  and  no  doubt  this  house  will  be 
a  place  of  pilgrimage  to  future  generations  of  Christ- 
ians. But  another  dwelling  is  destined  to  share  this 
celebrity.  In  September,  1899,  Gemma  was  adopted 
into  the  large  and  well-to-do  family  of  Signor 
Giannini,  at  the  request  of  his  sister,  Cecilia  Giannini, 
who  had  learned  to  love  and  revere  the  angelic  girl, 
(To  be  continued) 


Arcnconfraternit})  of 


the   Sacred    P 


assion 


"^^^^HE  Rules  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the 
a  £j  Passion  set  forth  the  purpose  of  the  society 
^^^V  and  the  way  to  accomplish  it.  From  them 
the  members  learn  to  treasure  in  their  hearts 
the  beautiful  virtues  of  the  Cross  and  to  persuade 
others  whenever  possible  to  remember  devoutly  the 
sufferings  and  sorrows  of  Christ  Crucified. 

Many  reasons  could  be  mentioned  for  the 
necessity  or  value  of  rules  .  As  a  train  speeds  along 
to  its  destination  surely  and  safely  by  means  of  the 
iron  rails,  so  every  society  asks  the  members  to 
follow  some  rules  in  order  to  attain  the  object  for 
which  it  was  founded.  Moreover,  besides  being  a 
principal  means  to  the  end,  the  rules  also  foster  a 
unity  of  thought  and  action  among  the  members, 
which  gives  strength  to  the  whole  society.  Is  it 
not  a  pleasing  sight  to  watch  soldiers  drilling  and 
marching?  Something  of  the  same  pleasure  may 
be  experienced  on  witnessing  a  number  of  persons 
acting  together  as  directed  by  the  rules  of  a  society. 
Finally,  the  rules  not  only  form  a  unifying  bond, 
but  they  are  likewise  a  source  of  inspiration  and 
encouragement,  enlightening  and  guiding  the  mem- 
bers, and  often  rewarding  them,  in  a  measure,  for 
their  loyalty  and  service  to  one  another  and  to  the 
society. 

The  few  rules  of  our  Archconfraternity  are 
directive  rather  than  preceptive.  They  are  not 
commands.  They  do  not  oblige  members  in  the 
sense  that  if  neglected  or  omitted,  a  penalty  is 
incurred  or  advantages  of  membership  are  forfeited. 
But  they  show  what  is  to  be  understood  by  the 
Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion  and  suggest  those 
public  and  private  exercises  expressive  of  compas- 
sion for  the  Divine  Redeemer  in  His  grief  and  pain, 
and  sincere  gratitude  for  the  plentiful  fruits  of 
redemption. 

St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  had  but  one  rule  for  the 
faithful.  He  would  entreat  them  to  spend  fifteen 
minutes  every  day  before  a  Crucifix.  In  glowing 
language  the  Saint  would  picture  the  infinite  love 
and  generous  sacrifice  of  Jesus  Crucified,  the  repa- 
ration He  made  for  sin,  and  His  exemplification  of 
every  virtue.    He  would  then  point  out  the  ingrati- 


tke    Society 


tude  in  giving  over  much  time  to  work,  pleasure, 
and  sleep,  and  of  never  recalling  to  mind  what 
Christ  suffered  for  men's  souls.  To  offset  this  indif- 
ference the  Saint  used  to  instruct  the  people  to  gaze 
upon  a  Crucifix  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  every  day 
as  an  expression  of  gratitude,  and  to  obtain  for  them- 
selves and  their  families  the  immense  blessings  of 
the  Passion  of  Our  Lord. 

"Think  of  the  Passion  of  Our  Redeemer,"  says 
St.  Paul  of  the  Cross,  "for  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
every  day,  and  you  will  see  that  all  will  go  well  with 
you,  and  that  you  will  live  far  removed  from  sin. 
I  have  converted  by  this  means  the  most  hardened 
sinners  and  so  sincere  was  their  repentance  that, 
when  I  afterwards  heard  their  confessions,  I  could 
no  longer  find  matter  sufficient  for  absolution.  So 
remarkable  a  change  came  about  because  they  were 
faithful  to  the  rule  I  had  given  them,  to  think  of 
the  sufferings  of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

As  some  found  it  difficult  to  be  faithful  to  this 
rule,  the  Saint  proposed  to  them  to  recite  piously 
every  day  five  Our  Fathers  and  five  Hail  Marys 
in  honor  of  the  Passion  of  Our  Lord,  and  that  it 
would  become  better  known  to  men. 

^— f  T  the  present  day,  there  are  only  two  rules 
1  |  which,  in  every  part  of  the  world,  are  common 
to  the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion.  They 
are  the  first  two  rules  given  in  the  manual  and  read 
as  follows:  "The  object  of  the  Archconfraternity 
is  to  promote  a  grateful  remembrance  of  and  tender 
devotion  to  the  Passion  and  Death  of  Our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  and  the  Sorrows  of  His  Holy  Mother. 
The  members  keep  this  object  in  view,  and  pray 
daily  that  they  may  know  better  and  may  make 
known  Jesus  Crucified."  The  second  general  rule 
refers  to  the  Black  Scapular  of  the  Passion.  "The 
members  are  formally  invested  with  the  Black 
Scapular  of  the  Most  Holy  Cross  and  Passion  of 
Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  They  wear  this  Scapular 
constantly."  (The  Scapular  Medal,  blessed  by  one 
authorized  to  do  so,  may  be  substituted  for  the 
Scapular  itself.) 


THE  1*  SIGN 


Besides  the  above  general  rules,  the  Archcon- 
fraternity  in  different  countries  has  adoped  parti- 
cular practices,  which  assist  the  members  in  many 
ways  to  cultivate  true  devotion  to  Our  Lord's 
Passion  and  to  enlist  the  services  of  other  apostles 
to  give  greater  honor  to  Jesus  Crucified  and  insure 
the  salvation  and  holiness  of  many  souls.  The 
particular  rules  followed  in  English  speaking 
countries  bring  out  these  exercises  of  piety,  which 
are  already  familiar  to  all  Catholics.  For  example, 
the  members  are  asked  to  be  present  at  the  Holy 
Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  the  "Memorial  of  the  Passion" 
as  often  as  they  can.  Once  a  month,  the  members 
should  receive  Holy  Communion,  wearing  the  badge 
of  the  Passion.  They  are  urged  to  practice  some 
devotion  every  day  in  memory  of  the  Passion,  such 
as  the  devout  veneration  of  the  Crucifix,  following 
the  Stations  of  the  Cross,  or  the  recitation  of  the 
Litany  of  the  Passion.  The  members  are  exhorted 
to  devote  the  Friday  of  every  week  in  a  special 
manner  to  the  memory  of  Christ's  Passion  and 
Death.  Attendance  at  the  meeting  every  month  is 
an  important  rule,  for  then  interest  in  the  society 
is  renewed  and  greater  enthusiasm  is  inspired  in 
promoting  devotion  to  Jesus  Crucified.  The  order  of 
exercises  at  the  meetings,  the  distribution  of  devo- 
tional leaflets  or  books  or  pictures,  different  works 
of  zeal,  and  similar  matters  are  usually  left  to  the 
Director  of  the  Archconfraternity  to  regulate,  and 
are  not  considered  rules  of  the  society. 

Speaking  of  the  apostleship  of  the  Cross  and 
Passion  of  Our  Lord,  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  after 
giving  directions  for  missions  and  retreats,  says, 
something  very  pertinent  to  members  of  the  Arch- 
confraternity :  "Circumstances  will  open  numerous 
other  ways  of  promoting  so  great  a  work,  and  ac- 
complishing their  pious  desire  and  purpose,  to  the 
great  advancement  of  their  own  souls,  and  of  those 
of  others.  For  the  love  of  God  is  very  ingenious, 
and  is  proved  not  so  much  by  the  words,  as  by  the 
deeds  and  examples  of  the  lovers."  These  words 
of  the  Saint  express  the  idea  of  the  Archconfratern- 
ity. The  members  are  not  called  upon  to  follow 
strict  rules,  but  rather  to  learn  the  love  of  Christ 
Crucified  and  then  do  all  in  their  power  to  make 
known  the  Sacred  Passion  to  others. 

Those  who  faithfully  and  generously  make  the 
rules  of  the  Archconfraternity  their  own  can  be 
certain  they  are  doing  much  to  honor  the  Passion 
of  Our  Lord  and  secure  for  themselves  and  others 
innumerable  blessings  in  this  life  and  for  eternity. 


>?^AVING  treated  of  the  rules,  which  serve  as  a 

I P  guide  to  the  members,  it  will  be  interesting 

to  mention  here  those  laws  which  support  and 
protect  the  whole  society.  The  new  code  of  the 
Church's  laws  contains  a  chapter  devoted  exclusively 
to  archconfraternities,  or  sodalities  of  primary  rank. 
The  society  is  placed  under  the  supervision  of  the 
Holy  See.  A  chief  society,  or  centre  of  activity,  is 
required.  The  Sovereign  Pontiff,  Pope  Benedict 
XV.,  appointed  the  celebrated  shrine  of  the  Holy 
Stairs,  familiarly  called  the  Scala  Santa,  in  Rome, 
to  be  the  centre  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the 
Passion.  The  Supreme  Director  is  the  Superior 
General  of  the  Congregation  of  the  Passion,  who 
resides  in  Rome.  Through  him  the  Holy  See  issues 
those  documents,  which  are  necessary  to  establish 
the  society  in  different  parts  of  the  world.  To  estab- 
lish the  Archconfraternity  in  any  church,  or  institu- 
tion, the  first  requisite  is  to  obtain  permission  from 
the  Bishop  of  the  place.  This  permission  is  then 
forwarded  to  the  Superior  General  of  the  Passionists, 
and  he  publishes  the  diploma  of  affiliation  to  the 
Archconfraternity  at  the  Scala  Santa.  He  grants  all 
the  privileges,  which  have  been  conferred  on  the 
society  of  law,  and  makes  known  the  indulgences 
that  may  be  gained  by  members. 

The  Supreme  Moderator  then  is  the  only  one, 
who  can  make  rules  effecting  the  Archconfraternity 
and  all  its  branches.  For  each  local  branch  there  is 
appointed  a  Director,  who  determines  special  laws 
for  the  members  in  his  vicinity.  To  him  it  falls  to 
assign  the  day  for  meeting,  to  keep  a  register  of  the 
names  of  sodalists.  It  is  his  duty  to  keep  the  Sacred 
Passion  of  Our  Lord  before  the  members,  by  instruc- 
tions, sermons,  and  by  means  of  leaflets,  magazines, 
and  books.  When  receiving  new  members,  he  in- 
vests them  in  the  Black  Scapular  of  the  Passion. 
From  time  to  time,  he  reminds  the  members  of  the 
privileges  they  enjoy  and  the  rich  indulgences  it  is 
in  their  power  to  gain.  The  success  of  the  Archcon- 
fraternity depends  in  great  measure  on  the  Director, 
and  its  membership  will  be  more  and  more  numerous 
and  more  zealous  as  he  directs  them  in  honoring  and 
preaching  Christ  Crucified. 

The  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion,  approved, 
blessed,  protected  by  the  Church,  unites  in  one 
great  sodality  all  the  apostles  of  the  Cross  and 
Passion  of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  it  assembles  all 
nations  on  the  "Hill  of  Calvary,"  it  makes  known 
in  every  tongue  the  wonderful  mysteries  of  Jesus 
Crucified. 


33 


What  Do  You  Know   About: 


Indulgenc 


"^^^'HE  ordinary  Catholic  takes  little  interest  in 
M  Cj  the  doctrine  of  indulgences,  but  for  four 
^^^^  hundred  years  his  Protestant  neighbor  has 
found  this  doctrine  a  very  interesting  and 
fertile  field  for  activity,  and  all  over  the  world  has 
made  the  subject  very  interesting  for  priests  and 
bishops, —  very  interesting  indeed, —  and  very 
annoying. 

Because  an  indulgence  is  a  detail  of  the  religious 
life  of  our  people,  the  ordinary  Catholic  looks  on  it 
as  merely  a  minor  thing.  But  if  he  will  try  to  under- 
stand that  Protestant  misrepresentation  of  it  has 
in  the  past  ruined  thousands  of  our  own  people  and 
kept  still  more  thousands  out  of  the  true  Church; 
that  this  was  the  very  subject  that  brought  about 
the  greatest  disaster  that  has  fallen  on  Christ's 
Church  in  a  thousand  years, — I  mean  of  course  the 
revolt  of  Luther;  if  he  will  recall  that  this  is  the 
breakfast  food  of  the  bigot  and  the  half  educated 
minister,  who  not  only  travels  through  our  southern 
and  western  states  but  through  South  America  from 
Panama  to  Cape  Horn,  through  Canada  from  Hali- 
fax to  Vancouver,  across  the  Pacific  to  the  Oriental 
world,  everywhere  using  the  topic  of  indulgences 
to  poison  the  minds  of  millions  against  the  Church, 
he  will  cease  to  regard  indulgences  as  a  trivial 
matter  and  will  come  to  look  upon  them  as  a  very 
important  and  interesting  subject. 

1.  Is  an  indulgence  the  pardon  of  sin  for  a 
price  ? 

2.  Does  the  priest  sell  indulgences  to  the 
people  like  a  hunting  licence — for  a  fixed  price? 

3.  Does  the  law  of  the  Church  tell  the  buyer  of 
indulgences  how  many  and  what  kind  of  sins  he  may 
commit,  as  the  state  law  tells  the  hunter  how  many 
heads  of  game  he  may  bag  for  the  season? 

4.  Does  the  priest  get  his  support  from  the 
taxes  on  indulgences? 

5.  Is  this  disgraceful  traffic  now  plied  in  the 
secrecy  of  the  Catholic  confessional? 

These  are  only  a  few  of  the  ignorant  crudities 
with  which  the  minds  of  our  unsuspecting  non- 
Catholic  neighbors  are  filled  by  their  fellows,  whose 
ignorance  is  as  deep,  if  not  as  pitiful,  as  their  own. 


The  menace  of  this  widespread  falsehood  is  evident, 
and  it  can  be  fought  down  only  by  a  knowledge  of 
the  truth. 

To  all  the  previous  questions  and  to  all  of  their 
ilk,  there  is  but  one  answer:  No.  An  indulgence 
is  not  in  any  sense  the  pardon  of  sin.  It  is  not  a 
licence  to  commit  sin  of  any  kind  or  degree.  It  is 
not  subject  to  tax.  The  priest  must  look  for  his 
support  elsewhere.  The  very  nature  of  indulgences 
demands  that  these  be  granted,  published,  and 
imparted  in  the  open,  and  always  apart  from  the 
Sacrament  of  Penance.  And  finally,  they  do  not 
pretend  directly  or  accurately  to  determine  the  length 
of  time  that  a  soul  is  to  be  imprisoned  in  the  purify- 
ing pains  of  Purgatory. 

All  this  is  made  plain  by  the  simple  definition 
of  an  indulgence,  which  is  a  remission  before  God 
of  temporal  punishment  due  to  sins,  the  guilt  of 
which  sins  is  already  forgiven  or  wiped  away,  either 
by  sacramental  absolution  or  by  an  act  of  perfect 
contrition.  This  favor  can  be  dispensed  only  by 
proper  authority,  with  well  defined  conditions. 
These  two  sentences  comprise  the  whole  teaching  of 
the  Church  on  indulgences.  They  should  be  read 
and  re-read.    They  show: 

1st.  That  an  indulgence  is  not  concerned  with 
sin,  either  past,  present  or  future,  with  the  guilt  nor 
with  the  stain  which  sin  leaves  on  the  soul;  but 
merely  with  one  of  the  results  of  sin — the  burden  of 
temporal  punishment  owing  as  satisfaction  to  divine 
justice  for  sin. 

2d.  Absolution  in  taking  from  the  penitent 
the  guilt  and  stain  of  sin  discharges  the  debt  of 
eternal  punishment,  but  leaves  the  debt  of  temporal 
punishment  still  unpaid. 

3d.  Indulgences  pay  this  undischarged  debt 
in  part  or  in  whole;  and  so  we  have  a  partial  or  a 
plenary  indulgence;  the  partial  remits  a  part,  the 
plenary  remits  the  whole  obligation  of  temporal 
punishment. 

No  Catholic  may  doubt  that  the  Church  has  the 
right  to  grant  indulgences.  Christ  gave  His  Church 
unlimited  power  over  sin  and  sin's  consequences. 
His  words  are :  "All  power  is  given  to  me  in  heaven 
and  on  earth;  and  as  the  living  Father  hath  sent  me, 


THE  +  SIGN 


so  I  also  send  you.  Receive  ye  the  Holy  Ghost  and 
go  forth :  whosesoever  sins  you  shall  forgive  they 
are  forgiven  them,  and  whosesoever  sins  you  shall 
retain  they  are  retained."  This  commission  knows 
no  limitation;  it  is  universal  and  absolute.  If  the 
Church  has  the  greater  power  to  actually  forgive  a 
man's  offences  and  to  declare  him  innocent,  she  must 
have  the  lessor  power  to  forgive  a  mere  result  of 
sin.  The  whole  includes  the  part.  Thus  has  the 
Church  ever  interpreted  the  words  of  Christ.  The 
Council  of  Trent  irrevocably  settled  the  matter  by 
condemning  anyone,  who  should  dare  to  teach  the 
opposite. 

The  authority  to  grant  indulgences  rests  with 
those  alone,  who  are  the  heirs  of  the  apostolic  office; 
and  so,  bishops,  archbishops,  cardinals,  and  the 
Pope  can  grant  indulgences.  All  other  inferior 
clergy  can  do  so  only  in  so  far  as  they  may  be 
authorized. 

When  the  Church  grants  a  partial  indulgence, 
for  example,  of  one  hundred  days  or  seven  years, 
does  that  mean  that  should  we  gain  this  indulgence 
our  purgatory  will  be  shortened  to  a  corresponding 
number  of  days  or  years?  By  no  means.  It  does 
mean  that  the  temporal  debt  due  to  our  sins  has 
been  remitted  to  that  degree  to  which  God  would 
have  -reduced  it  were  we  to  have  performed  one 
hundred  days  or  seven  .years  of  the  ancient  canonical 
penances  of  the  Church.  In  the  early  Church  the 
law  specified  the  penance  for  specific  sins;  the  con- 
fessor was  obliged  to  impose  these  specified  penan- 
ces, and  the  penitent  was  obliged  in  conscience  to 
fulfill  them.  These  works  were  primarily  corrective 
or  disciplinary  and  were  severe  penitential  acts.  As 
to  the  merit  of  these  canonical  penances  in  the  sight 
of  God,  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  man  to  determine; 
neither  can  we  measure  the  indulgences  of  today. 
But  we  do  know  that  where  man  is  exacting,  God 
is  indulgent,  and  we  can  well  feel  that  our  indul- 
gences shall  prevail  with  His  Mercy  vastly  beyond 
the  terms  expressed — that  one  day  shall  be  to  Him 
as  a  thousand  years.    That  is  God's  way. 

Indulgences  are  granted  under  very  exact  con- 
ditions,— conditions  which  affect  the  one  who  seeks 
an  indulgence  and  the  work  such  a  one  must  do  to 
gain  it.  The  petitioner  must  be  a  baptized  Catholic, 
in  the  state  of  grace,  and  united  with  the  Church. 
Hence,  heretics,  schismatics,  apostates,  excommuni- 
cated persons,  or  persons  in  the  state  of  mortal  sin, 


cannot  gain  an  indulgence.  Besides  the  petitioner 
must  fully  accomplish  the  appointed  work,  and  this 
in  the  manner  prescribed. 

The  works  prescribed  for  the  gaining  of  an  in- 
dulgence must  be  personally  performed. 

The  gainer  of  an  indulgence  cannot  apply  it  to 
any  living  person. 

Indulgences  granted  by  the  Pope,  unless  other- 
wise specified,  are  applicable  to  the  poor  souls  in 
Purgatory.  These  embrace  those  indulgences,  with 
which  we  are  most  familiar,  as,  the  indulgences  of 
the  Way  of  the  Cross,  of  the  Rosary,  of  the  Porti- 
uncula,  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion. 

The  living  gain  indulgences  by  way  of  absolu- 
tion,— by  the  exercise  of  the  juridical  authority 
which  the  Successor  of  St.  Peter  has  over  all  the 
living  members  of  the  Church.  The  souls  of  the 
faithful  departed  receive  the  benefit  of  indulgences 
by  way  of  suffrage  or  prayer.  The  Pope  has  not 
direct  judisdiction  over  the  dead;  the  souls  of  the 
departed  are  in  the  hands  of  God  alone.  The  Church 
begs  God  to  accept,  in  atonement  for  the  sins  of  the 
dead,  those  works  of  the  living  to  which  the  indul- 
gences are  attached. 

The  great  indulgences  of  the  Church,  or  those 
which  are  exceptionally  rich,  are : 

1st.  The  Jubilee,  which  is  a  plenary  indul- 
gence accompanied  with  special  privileges  granted 
for  a  specified  time.  It  differs  from  an  ordinary 
plenary  indulgence,  in  solemnity,  in  the  special 
powers  granted  to  confessors  during  the  time  of 
Jubilee,  and  in  the  very  extraordinary  graces  which 
accompany  it. 

2d.  The  Stations  of  the  Cross.  This  is  the 
most  richly  endowed  of  all  the  ordinary  works  of 
piety,  and  the  performance  of  this  act  calls  for 
nothing  more  than  these  two  conditions :  that  we 
pass  from  station  to  station;  that  in  doing  so,  we 
think  on  the  Passion  of  Christ.  Nothing  more  is 
prescribed.  It  is  no  wonder  then  that  so  easy,  so 
simple,  and  so  very  rich  a  practice  is  so  very  popular 
and  is  steadily  growing  in  favor  among  our  people. 

3d.  The  indulgence  "in  articulo  mortis"  is  a 
plenary  indulgence  granted  at  the  hour  of  death. 
This  great  privilege  is  attached  to  crucifixes  blessed 
by  the  Passionist  Fathers.  A  person  who  has  a 
crucifix  so  blessed  near  or  about  him  at  the  moment 
of  death  receives  the  grace  of  the  indulgence  "in 
articulo  mortis." 


35 


Index  to  Wortkv?kile   Reading 


THE  CHRISTIAN  MIND.  By  Dom  Anscar 
Vonier  O.S.B.,  Abbot  of  Buskfast.  St.  Louis:  B. 
Herder  Co.    Price  $1.50. 

Abbot  Vonier  has,  on  previous  occasions  contributed 
two  works  of  great  merit  which  are  of  much  service  to 
the  serious  reader  who  wishes  to  get  beyond  the  cate- 
chism and  the  works  of  popular  instruction  to  an  under- 
standing of  some  of  the  depths  lying  below  the  palcid 
depths  of  catholic  dogma.  In  the  present  book  his  aim  is 
the  same,  though  in  the  Christian  Mind  he  is  treating  of 
the  ascetical  side  of  revealed  religion.  The  same  un- 
qualified praise  however  is  not  due  to  this  work  that 
the  former  ones  merited.  One  could  not  but  rejoice 
at  the  singular  brightness  and  clarity  in  Abbot  Vonier's 
former  writings.  This  singular  lucidity,  which  on  former 
occasions  enabled  the  author  to  bring  out  profound  and 
subtle  truths  appears  dimmed  in  this  present  work.  Too 
often  in  the  Christian  Mind  is  there  ponderous  writing, 
heavier  than  even  good  broad  shoulders  are  capable  of 
bearing;  too  often  is  there  a  disconcerting  avowal  that 
this  or  that  is  plain  to  the  reader,  when  the  truth  seems 
to  be  that  closer  fidelity  to  the  point  of  view  would  have 
elicited  from  the  reader,  not  from  the  author,  the  grateful 
assurance  that  the  point  was  evident. 

We  are  strongly  of  the  opinion  that  the  entire 
Chapter  X  should  not  have  found  a  place  in  this  book. 
It  will  unsettle  the  minds  of  most  readers,  if  indeed  it 
will  not  convey  a  wrong  and  mischievous  impression. 
Those  who  are  familiar  with  the  question  treated  in  this 
chapter  will,  we  think,  still  prefer  the  old  presentation 
rather  than  the  abbot's  novel  one;  and  this,  despite  the 
learned  author's  claim  of  an  exclusive  scriptural  warrant, 
a  claim  not  likely  to  shake  the  conviction  of  his  opponents 
that  their  view  is  solidly  based  on  the  New  Testament. 

Our  purpose  is  not  to  deter  the  public  from  reading 
this  book.  Not  withstanding  some  defects  like  to  these 
mentioned,  it  may  fairly  be  considered  a  most  important 
contribution,  one  of  a  small  number,  to  our  ascetic  library. 
There  has  been  a  void  in  English  of  works  treating  of  the 
place  of  the  Incarnate  Life  in  the  lives  of  men  and  this 
will  help  to  fill  this  long  felt  need. 

With  the  exception  of  a  few  commendable  works 
in  translation,  mostly  from  the  French  and  German,  there 
is  a  derth  of  any  spiritual  treatises  on  this  fundamental 
phase  of  asceticism  in  our  language.  "Christ's  role,"  the 
author  says,  and  if  he  refers  to  English,  says  rightly, 
the  "role  as  the  life  of  man  is  an  unexplored  field  of 
spiritual  possibilities."  Truly,  the  God  Incarnate  is  es- 
sentially and  intrinsically  the  life  of  individual  souls.  His 
most  constant  and  solemn  assertion  is  that  He  is  Life, 
man's  life. 

The  whole  range  of  the  Pauline  Epistles  is  covered 
to  show  forth  the  christian  mind  as  St.  Paul  conceived 
it.  For  St.  Paul,  to  live,  was  simply  Christ.  The  Chris- 
tian Mind  has  distinct  value  as  a  commentary  on  St.  Paul. 
Indeed,  the  author  tells  us  that  he  was  inclined  to  name 
his  book  the  Christ  of  St.  Paul.  What  a  pity  that  use 
was  not  made  for  quotation  of  the  recently  published 
Westminister  version  of  St.  Paul's  epistles.  .  In  so  doing 
he  would  have  added  light  to  light.  The  reader  of  the 
Christian  Mind  will  profit  much  if  in  looking  up  the 
scriptural  references  the  Westminister  version  already 
referred  to  is  used. 


THE  HOUNDS  OF  BANBA.  By  Daniel 
Corkery.  Dublin:  The  Talbot  Press,  Limited. 
Price  $1.50. 

In  this  neat  book  is  a  collection  of  stories,  the 
episodes  in  each  being  taken  from  Irish  life  such  as  has 
been  lived  in  Ireland  since  the  Easter  Rebellion  of  1916 
to  the  present  lull.  Banba  is  an  ancient  name  for  Erin 
and  here  symbolises  the  soul  of  that  country.  Any  one 
reading  the  Hounds  of  Banba  will  agree  with  the  patriot 
portrayed  in  the  character,  Seumas,  "Ireland  was  safe; 
her  soul  was  the  same  old  priceless  soul:   no  wealth  could 

purchase    it:     no    power    break    it." "After 

the  Rising  there  was  in  Ireland,  as  everyone  knows,  a 
sense  of  spiritual  exaltation  that  laughed  all  the  wisdom 
of  this  world  to  scorn.  As  Seumas  put  it  to  me :  the  soul 
of  Ireland  had  been  more  deeply  influenced  through  the 
hundred  men  who  had  died  for  her  in  Dublin  than  the 
soul  of  England  through  the  hundreds  of  thousands  who 
had  died  for  her  in  France."  ....  "It  is  intensity 
only  that  counts  —  intensity  alone  can  raise  vision. 
Vision! — The    land   was    swept    with    it — Our   lives    were 

dazzled :      we     lived     nobler." "And     since 

everybody  had  begun  to  learn  Irish,  it  seemed  that  every- 
body had  at  last  came  to  know  all  this." 

Those  who  were  in  a  position  to  know  the  truth 
about  the  Irish  Republic  could  have  had  no  doubt  that 
this  prophesy  would  eventually  come  true;  but  we  were 
hardly  prepared  for  the  English  debacle  we  are  witness- 
ing today.  Capitulation,  not  humanitarianism,  accounts 
for  England's  executive  submitting  to  the  parleys  now  in 
progress.  It  is  not  now  as  it  was  in  the  days  of  Elizabeth 
and  Cromwell ;  truth,  today,  cannot  be  trammelled ;  it  is 
abroad  on  the  air.  The  day  is  gone  when  English  junkers 
can  piously  pose  behind  a  screen  of  official,  systematic 
calumny.  When  the  world  began  to  awake  to  the  doings 
of  the  Black  and  Tans  it  peered  to  discover  the  leaders, 
but  in  vain  ;  they  were  wrapped  in  an  impenetrable  cloud 
of  mystery.  When  the  world  had  fully  awakened  the 
mists  were  dissipated  and  the  cry  went  up  "Elizabeth 
rediviva  !  Cromwell  come  to  life  again  !"  The  truth  was 
out ;  the  masked  were  unmasked.  Murder  gangs  there 
were;  pure,  exalted  patriotism  there  was;  but  the  torch 
of  home-love  was  burning  within  the  Republican  ranks, 
the  black  clouds  of  murder  and  rapine  were  hanging 
heavy  over  the  tents  of  the  Invader. 

Each  struggle  of  the  Gael  has  had  its  bard  to  throw 
his  faggot  and  also  keep  aflame  the  patriotism  of  his  race. 
Immortal  literature  was  born  of  the  Easter  uprising. 
A  new  galaxy  of  writers  appeared  in  Ireland.  Among 
these  is  Daniel  Corkery.  He  has  the  varied  gifts  of  poet, 
dramatist  and  raconteur.  These  gifts  he  possesses  to  a 
degree  rare  even  in  one  of  his  race.  Thus  bountifully 
endowed  he  took  up  the  task  of  interpreting  for  the 
world  the  final  act  in  the  century-old  tragedy  of  English 
frightfullness  and  unconquerable  Irish  patience.  Mr. 
Corkery  has  found  a  place  in  the  elect  school  of  Banba's 
prophets,  though  he  himself  assumes  no  higher  role  than 
simple  chronicler.  He  has  the  eye  of  a  seer  and  the  power 
of  the  romancer;  he  writes  of  his  beloved  with  the 
conscious  freedom  of  a  bethrothed.  Katharine  Tynan 
says:  "lie  has  struck  a  blow  for  Sinn  Fein  which  might 
make  its  fighting  men  envious." 


The  rapid  growth  in  our  circulation,  a  growth  surpassing  the  most  sanguine  expectations, 
necessitated  an  expansion  in  our  printing  department.  This  readjustment  has  been  the  occasion  of 
the  delay  in  delivery.  Such  an  augury  of  success  will,  we  know,  be  a  source  of  satisfaction  to  our 
many  friends.  Through  this  improvement  has  entailed  some  inconvenience  to  our  readers,  it  will 
assure  for  the  future  a  more  efficient  service. — The  Editors. 

36 


^mum 


A  NATIONAL      <J>     CATHOLIC 
/MONTHLY       MACAZINESs 


VOL.  I. 

DECEMBER,   1921 

Mo.  5 

7p  ttit  jTT  m\  ttu  w  irn  n-j;  rr-  •;  ■.  vr  i-  7_gi  ttjjt  tjit  tjtt  ttit 

SS21Z 

I'  37 

TV  W  TTIT  T 

5MM22E^!  32JDMDI33J  £ 

Greetings! 

TKe  Passionist  FatKers  most  cordially  wish  tKe  many  friends 
and  patrons  of  TKe  Sign  a   Happy   and   Holy   Christmas. 

It  is  owing  largely  to  tKe  unselfish  co-operation  of  tKese  tKat 
The  Sign  has  become  an  efficient  spokesman  of  Catholic 
Truth  and  an  attractive  Messenger  of  the   Sacred   Passion. 

As  The  Sign  has  for  its  sole  purpose  the  extending  of 
Christ's  Kingdom,  the  Fathers  trust  that  its  friends  will  regard 
as  a  privilege    the  opportunity    of  sharing  in  its  holy"  mission. 

May  the  Divine  Babe  of  Bethlehem  spread  His  hands  in 
loving  benediction  on  all  the  readers,  subscribers,  contributors 
and  well-wishers  of  The  Sign. 


ftMftflWBftBrtfl 


iffiffiffiffiffiimvmrrKitisa^^  ^r/svtsvj* 


-^H'Tu^ni; 


\ 

The   Cross   in   Betklekem 

A  Christmas  Harmon}? 

J.  Martin  Bowes 


■^^^■>HE  Gospels  furnish  us  with  few  details  of 
#  C]  the  miraculous  events  which  transpired 
^^^^  within  the  hallowed  precincts  of  the  humble 
shelter  in  Bethlehem  on  the  night  in  which 
Christ  was  born. 

We  are  told,  simply,  that  while  there  Mary's 
days  were  accomplished  that  she  should  be  deli- 
vered and  that  she  brought  forth  her  first-born  Son 
and  wrapped  Him  up  in  swaddling  clothes  and  laid 
Him  in  a  manger. 

"It  is  the  custom  in  those  Southern  parts  to 
treat  the  new-born  babe  in  a  way  strange  to  this  age 
and  country.  The  infant  is  swathed  around  with 
cloths  much  resembling  the  winding-sheet,  the 
bandages  and  ligaments  of  the  dead."*  So  was  it 
with  the  Savior.  The  first  fond  offices  rendered  to 
Him  by  His  gentle  mother  at  His  birth  were  strange- 
ly similar  to  the  last  sad  services  with  which  she 
parted  company  with  Him  at  the  tomb.  And  if 
we  are  to  believe,  with  her  great  and  saintly  cham- 
pions, that  from  the  time  the  Holy  Ghost  over- 
shadowed her,  the  life  of  her  Divine  Child  lay  open 
before  her,  how  tinged  with  melancholy  must  needs 
have  been  her  joy  at  having  brought  a  Son  into  the 
world,  by  the  piercing  remembrance  of  the  tragic 
events  to  be  which  the  swaddling  bands  must  in- 
evitably have  brought  to  mind. 

Be  this  as  it  may, — and  there  is  nothing  in  it 
difficult  to  faith — it  serves  to  put  before  us  a  thought 
most  appropriate  to  the  time,  viz.,  that  the  Divine 
Infant,  the  Word  made  Flesh,  as  He  lay  in  His 
manger,  was,  as  His  name  betokened,  a  Savior; 
that  already,  within  the  Crib,  the  work  of  redemp- 
tion had  begun;  that  the  Passion  of  Christ,  if  we 
understand  by  the  term  expiatory  suffering,  found 
its  source  within  the  Cave  of  Bethlehem. 

It  was  the  purpose  of  the  Savior's  coming  into 
the  world  to  render  to  the  Justice  of  God  that  in- 
finite atonement  for  sin  which  fallen  man  of  himself 
could  not  make,  to  do  penance  for  the  long  and 
vitiated  line  of  Adam,  and  this  mission  of  penance 
is  marked  in  every  feature  of  the  Crib. 

"Mary  was  with  the  child,"  we  are  told,  when 

♦Omnipotence  in  Bonds — Cardinal  Newman. 


she  and  her  spouse  arrived  in  the  City  of  David.  The 
imperial  enrollment  had  drawn  so  great  a  conflux  of 
strangers  to  the  little  town  that  there  was  no  room 
in  the  inn — mean  and  comfortless  as  such  places 
are — for  the  two  travelers  from  Nazareth,  and  so 
they  sought  shelter  in  a  rude  grotto  attached  to  the 
inn  as  a  stable.  Here,  "while  all  things  were  in 
quiet  silence,  and  the  night  was  in  the  midst  of  her 
course,"  in  circumstances  so  devoid  of  all  earthly 
comfort  as  to  make  the  mere  imagination  of  a 
humbler  or  more  cheerless  nativity  impossible — 
Mary's  Son  was  born. 

Whether  there  were  glories  wrought  on  that 
night  within  the  cave,  we  know  not,  for  the  Evange- 
lists do  not  disclose  them,  they  tell  us  only  of  Mary, 
having  with  her  own  hands  wrapped  the  Infant  in 
swaddling  clothes  and  having  laid  Him  in  a  manger. 
This  much  we  are  certain  of,  that  the  abode  is  one 
of  utter  desolation  and  that  the  Babe  lying  upon 
the  scattered  straw  is  the  Eternal  Word  of  God, 
the  Brightness  of  Eternal  Light,  and  the  Unspotted 
Mirror  of  God's  Majesty.  There  is  no  overpower- 
ing immensity  within  these  rough-hewn  walls,  no 
paralizing  splendor,  no  blinding  glory;  just  little- 
ness, feebleness,  infancy.  The  Child  speaks  not, 
He  is  lifted  in  another's  arms,  He  makes  no  resis- 
tence,  He  is  seemingly,  as  others  of  His  kind;  yet, 
not  one  circumstance  of  His  environment  escapes 
Him,  neither  the  fetid  odors,  nor  the  cold  straw,  nor 
the  raw  air,  nor  the  herded  cattle;  not  one  circum- 
stance but  is  consciously  experienced  and  eternally 
registered.  He  is  intensely,  painfully,  awake  to  them 
all;  already  He  has,  in  the  words  of  the  Apostle, 
"learned  by  the  things  he  has  suffered." 

Once  on  a  time,  Moses,  the  mightiest  of  God's 
prophets,  he  too  a  savior  of  his  people,  while  still 
an  infant  and  all  unconscious  of  his  plight,  was  made 
to  suffer,  as  he  himself  tells  us  in  the  fullness  of 
his  years,  by  the  harshness  of  a  despot.  In  a  rough 
basket,  daubed  with  pitch  and  slime,  he  was  set 
adrift  among  the  sedges  of  the  river  whence  he 
was  rescued  by  the  piteous,  spontaneous  cry  which 
the  very  misery  of  his  condition  rung  from  him. 
Not  so  was  it  with  the  Child  of  Bethlehem.    If  tears 


THE  1*  SIGN 


coursed  down  His  infant  cheeks,  and  if  a  sob  broke 
on  His  baby  lips,  it  was  not  because  of  the  frailty 
of  infancy  or  the  bleakness  of  His  dwelling. — No! — 
"His  tears  were  drawn  from  Him,"  says  St.  Bernard, 
"by  compassion  for  His  brethren,  by  the  vision  of 
men's  sins,  and  they  are  part  of  the  price  He  must 
pay  for  sin's  forgiveness." 


© 


HE  Word  was  made  flesh  to  appease  the  jus- 
tice of  His 
Father,  to 
atone  for  the  sins 
of  all  mankind, 
and  He  chose  to 
take  up  His  heavy 
work  from  the 
very  moment  He 
began  to  be. 

Whence,  o  f 
the  distress  and 
suffering  conse- 
quent upon  His 
infancy  and  His 
squalid  shelter, 
nothing  is  lost;  all 
is  eagerly  gather- 
ed up  and  freely 
offered  in  expia- 
tion for  men's 
sins.  As  Mary 
lays  Him  in  the 
manger  she  can, 
in  very  truth, 
adore  Him  as  her 
God  and  her  suf- 
fering Savior. 
Barely  has  the 
Precious  Blood 
yet  established  its 
course  within  His 
veins  than  heav- 
enly choirs  are 
proclaiming    H  i  s 

advent  and  commanding  the  shepherds  to  hasten 
over  to  Bethlehem  and  there  to  do  homage  to  the 
new-born  Babe  as  their  Savior.  Whilst  they  kneel 
prostrate  before  His  crib,  it  is  their  Redeemer  who 
beams  upon  them,  and  if  the  Justice  of  the  A1- 
mighty  alone  had  been  in  question,  the  great  work 
of  salvation  had  already  been  copiously  accom- 
plished. 


; 

ife»^  4f-i 

"Si 

mgfr 

NyfSp  \ 

,My.mt 

.-^iME^^— ,t»'    «  ^4j 

mm\  M^'rk 

?m 

WLwt^m  wB\£»Si#?£***K&.* 

mVT/l                        '' 

<¥*"    1    f  i  »W*% 

WL 

Here  in  this  dark  and  dreary  cave,  offering  but 
scant  protection  to  beasts  of  burden,  are  terminated 
the  sacrifices  of  the  Old  Law;  here,  in  circumstances 
as  wretched  as  were  possible  on  earth,  the  Infant 
Savior,  as  the  Great  High  Priest,  inaugurates  the 
Law  of  Grace;  here,  on  His  bed  of  straw,  as  upon 
an  altar,  Jesus  offers  to  the  Eternal  Father,  not  the 
blood  of  sheep  or  goats,  but  His  own  frail  body, 
the  living  tabernacle  not  made  with  hands,  aj  the 
sole  pure  oblation 
that  can  satisfy 
for  man's  ini- 
quities. 

Here  we  be- 
hold the  Expected 
of  Nations,  the 
Lamb  w  it  h  o  u  t 
Spot — Him,  Who 
alone  taketh  away 
the  sins  of  the 
world — Him,  Who 
was  slain  from 
the  beginning, — 
the  Infant  Jesus, 
a  victim  from 
birth.  Ere  His 
feeble  pulse  had 
well  begun  to 
measure  the  term 
of  his  mortal  life, 
the  tragedy  of  the 
Passion  was  in 
progress;  as  His 
life  ended  so  did 
it  begin;  "the  im- 
molation of  Cal- 
vary," says  St. 
Chrysostom,  "was 
but  the  supreme 
culmination  of  the 
drama,  the  first 
scene  of  which 
w  a  s     staged     in 


SHADOW   OF   THE    CROSS 


Bethlehem." 

*"" — I'ESUS  initiates  on  the  pallet  of  straw  what 
\\"  He  is  to  finish  on  the  wood  of  the  Cross. 
Within  the  narrow  limits  of  the  manger,  He 
feels  His  soul  consumed  by  that  flame  of  divine 
zeal  for  the  salvation  of  souls,  which  later  on  in 
life,  He  was  to  reveal   in   the   words :    "I  have   a 


THE  +  SIGN 


baptism  wherewith  I  am  to  be  baptised,  and  how 
am  I  straightened  until  it  be  accomplished;"  mean- 
ing, I  must  submit  to  bitter  suffering,  yea  even  to 
the  length  of  laying  down  My  life;  for  such  is  the 
part  I  have  freely  chosen,  but  how  am  I  straightened, 
constrained,  bound  down,  from  carrying  My  desire, 
at  once,  into  effect! 

Prevented,  indeed,  is  the  new-born  Savior,  pre- 
vented by  the  dumb  impotency  of  babyhood,  by  the 
encircling  bands,  by  the  pailing  of  the  crib.  Already 
He  benignly  hears  the  sinner's  plea,  but  His  tiny 
hands  cannot  yet  be  lifted  in  absolution,  His  throb- 
bing heart  even  now  clasps  to  itself  in  one  compre- 
hensive embrace  all  the  sons  of  men,  but  His  tongue 
cannot  so  much  as  lisp  the  sentiments  which  .stir 
within  His  breast;  one  day  His  shoulders  are  to 
bear  the  weight  of  a  ponderous  cross  taken  up  for 
our  correction,  but  now  He  is  manacled  and  fettered 
by  the  solicitous  hands  of  a  creature;  His  divine 
intelligence  sweeps  the  horizon  of  human  affairs 
and  the  spectre  of  a  cross  looms  up  gaunt  before 
Him,  but  His  infant  feet  can  not  yet  trudge  the 
circuitous  path  to  Calvary.  Man  fell  from  grace  in 
the  free  exercise  of  mature  power,  he  was  to  be 
restored  to  grace  only  by  One  in  the  full  bloom  of 
perfect  manhood.  Hence  Bethlehem  must  remain 
but  the  first  milestone  on  the  divinely  chartered, 
penitential  road  of  Redemption. 

True  it  is,  and  we  ought  to  strive  hard  to  com- 
prehend it,  the  Babe  that  lies  within  the  Crib  in  all 
the  loveliness  of  innocent,  helpless  infancy — is  even 
now  the  conscious  Victim  of  the  sins  of  the  world. 
The  joy  which  reigned  about  the  cold  cave  on  the 
first  Christmas  night  was  not  without  its  alloy  of 
sorrow.  God  does  not  change  His  ways  nor  His 
only  Son  His  character,  as  the  Apostle  writes— 
"Jesus  Christ,  yesterday,  today,  and  the  same  for- 
ever." With  Christ  there  is  no  forgetting,  no  specu- 
lation; with  Him,  the  past  is  ever  present  and  the 
future  is  ever  nigh.  So  that  we  may  affirm,  follow- 
ing out  the  thought  suggested  by  the  most  penetrat- 
ing religious  thinker  of  the  last  century,  Cardinal 
Newman,  that  our  Blessed  Lord  lived  His  whole 
life  in  every  moment  of  it.  The  span  which  bridges 
Bethlehem  and  Calvary  is  one  of  conscious  vicarious 
suffering. 

>—T     MODERN   painter,   taking   his    inspiration 

I I      from  this  doctrine,  has  left  us  a  touching 

portrayal  of  it  in  a  picture  known  as  "The 
Shadow  of  Death."     He  depicts  a  domestic  scene 


within  the  workshop  at  Nazareth.  Mary  is  upon  her 
knees  engaged  in  some  menial  task.  Shavings  be- 
strew the  floor;  neglected  tools  lie  at  hand — the  saw 
still  clamped  in  a  half-severed  board.  The  Savior 
stands  in  the  foreground,  His  arms  uplifted  in  the 
act  of  relieving  the  strain  of  muscles  long  cramped. 
His  feaures  tell  of  sustained  fatigue  and  extreme 
weariness.  The  sunlight  is  falling  upon  Him  in  such 
wise  as  to  cast  athwart  the  wall  a  dark  shadowy 
imprint  of  a  cross.  The  tense,  startled  attitude  of 
His  mother  whose  gaze  is  rivited  on  the  ominous 
spectre,  so  distinctly  outlined,  shows  that  she  both 
sees  and  understands.  Thus  does  the  artist  with 
his  brush,  vividly  bring  before  us  an  imaginative 
conception  of  a  profound  truth  embedded  in  the 
deposit  of  faith;  a  truth  formulated  long  centuries 
ago,  by  the  author  of  the  Imitation  of  Christ,  into 
the  since  universally  accepted  canon  of  Catholic 
teaching,  "For  not  even  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  was 
ever  for  one  hour  without  the  anguish  of  His 
Passion,  so  long  as  he  lived,  Christ's  whole  life  was 
a  cross  and  a  martyrdom." 

If  we  peer  into  the  recesses  of  the  Cave  of 
Bethlehem,  with  the  keen  eyes  of  a  glowing  faith, 
we  shall  see  that,  in  very  truth,  the  Cross  of  Calvary 
lies  aslant  the  Crib. 

Apt  is  the  saying:  "there  is  pleasure  born  of 
pain."  Christmas  is  a  season  of  exuberant  joy,  a 
season  when  contagious  gladness  is  a  fioat  on  the  very 
air;  but  he  does  not  penetrate  its  true  significance  nor 
tap  its  richest  vein  of  blessing  who  overlooks  its 
basic  constituent  of  sadness.  Christian  tradition 
teaches  us  to  bring  into  God's  house  at  Christmas, 
ever-green  trees,  the  fir  and  the  pine  and  the  cedar, 
commemorative  of  the  trees  of  the  wood,  spoken  of 
by  the  prophet,  that  clapped  their  hands  and  exulted 
at  the  coming  of  the  Lord,  and  to  intersperse  the 
green  branches  with  sprigs  of  holly  that  the  crimson 
berries  may  keep  before  our  minds  the  red  blood- 
drops  that  one  day  the  Infant  is  to  shed  for  the 
soul's  eternal  cleansing. 

The  real  Christmas  spirit,  a  unison  of  the  blithe 
strains  of  gladness  rising  above  the  minor  notes  of 
sadness,  is  the  spirit  which  should  pervade  the 
Christian's  life.  It  is  the  spirit  which  animated  the 
great  Apostle  of  the  Crucified,  St.  Paul,  in  the  depths 
of  whose  soul  there  brooded  "a  continual  sorrow," 
while  on  its  placid  surface  there  played  a  perpetual 
joy.  "Let  us  exhibit  ourselves,"  he  writes,  "as 
sorrowful  yet  always  rejoicing." 


© 


Fidelis  of  the   Cross 

(James  Kent  Stone) 
Walter  George  Smith 


HE  life  of  this  noble  priest,  which  closed 
at  San  Mateo,  California,  October  14,  1921, 
was  so  varied 


as  to  bear  all 
the  aspects  of  a  ro- 
mance. Born  in  Bos- 
ton, November,  10, 
1840,  he  was  the  son 
of  the  Rev.  John  S. 
Stone,  then  of  the 
Theological  Seminary 
of  Cambridge,  and 
founder  of  the  Epis- 
copal Seminary  in 
Philadelphia.  H  i  s 
mother  was  a  daughter 
of  Chancellor  James 
Kent,  one  of  the  great- 
est of  judges  and  legal 
authors  that  America 
has  produced.  He 
bore  the  name  of  this 
ancestor  and  gave  it 
further  illustration 
until  in  1878  he  be- 
came a  Passionist  and 
received  a  name  sing- 
ularly appropriate, 
Fidelis  of  the  Cross. 

His  life  may  be 
readily  divided  into 
three  periods — youth 
and  young  manhood, 
till  he  graduated  at 
Harvard  in  the  class 
of  1861;  then  a  few 
years  of  travel,  study 
at  the  University  of 
Gottingen  in  Ger- 
many, service  as  a 
soldier  in  the  Civil 
War,  his  ordination  as 
an  Episcopalian  Cler- 
gyman, which  occur- 
red in  1866;  finally, 
from  his  conversion  in  1870  until  his  death. 

He  married  very  young  to  Miss  Cornelia  Fay 
daughter    of    a    distinguished    Boston    family.     At 


A  Tribute 


The  Mewman  of  Kiev?  England,  so  I  like 
to  call  Kim.  One  of  those  gifted  beyond  measure, 
yet  displacing  wealth  rather  of  nature  than  of  art. 
Fidelis,  they  call  him,  his  brethren  of  the  govCn. 
Humility  his  chosen  state  and  virtue,  ill  according 
with  the  reason  his  talents  bring  him.  Yet  he  is 
strong  in  action,  nowhere  showing  signs  of  weak- 
ness. Full  voiced  and  full  hearted,  preaching  in 
tones  of  Vehemence  the  bitter  and  the  svJeet  of 
Christ's  meek  Gospel. 

I  love  him  better,  it  may,  be  than  I  do  his 
doctrine.  Of  old  he  reached  my  heart,  not  by* 
charm  of  Weakness.  No,  but  fiery  strength  of 
love  divine  consuming  with  a  breath  of  flame  my 
soul  and  all  my  being. 

I  call  him  Newman.  It  pleases  me  to  mark 
the  parity  between  them.  He  is  different.  He 
has  more  dash  and  verve  than  the  Englishman,  but 
lacks  the  quality  that  distinguishes  our  mother- 
country  from  this  nation,  at  least  for  English  taste 
we  none  of  us  have  weight  enough,  But  oh,  his 
spirit  is  tremendous  with  all  the  finer  instincts 
Ttfell  developed  to  discern  and  all  the  qualities  to 
aid  and  make  successful  the  irresistible  resolution 
to  vCork  and  to  accomplish,  And  for  this  I  lov"e 
him,  for  this  I  place  him  high  over  all  my  house- 
hold gods. 

Can  I  but  be  true  to  the  lofty  ideals  he  has 
set  before  me,  all  may"  ;9et  be  well  in  that  glad 
day  when  we  shall  stand  to  make  account  of  all 
the  blessings  Christ  has  gK>en  me,  this  love  of 
ours  may  deepen  vJith  Charity  divine. — M. 

Note.  This  tribute  was  found  among  the 
papers  of  Theodore  Dehon  Smith  (Father  Mau- 
rice, C.P.),  who  died  February  15, 1894,  at  Buenos 
Aires,  while  working  with  Father  Fidelis.— Author 


thirty  he  found  himself  the  widowed  father  of  three 
daughters.  He  was  already  well  known  in  his 
church  and  in  the 
world  of  scholarship. 
He  had  been  profes- 
sor of  classics,  and 
subsequently  presi- 
dent successively  of 
Kenyon  College  at 
Gambier,  Ohio,  and  of 
Hobart  College  at 
Geneva,  N.  Y.  Before 
giving  a  sketch  of  the 
third  and  longest 
period  of  his  life,  it 
will  be  well  to  fill  up 
a  few  of  the  outlines 
of  the  first  two  peri- 
ods, and  dwell  upon 
his  natural  gifts  and 
characteristics. 


Y  S  I  CALLY, 
he  was  unusual- 
ly strong  and 
nandsome.  More  than 
six  feet  in  height,  he 
was  perfectly  pro- 
portioned and  grace- 
ful in  his  movements. 
His  face  was  lighted 
up  by  e  xpressive 
brown  eyes;  his  smile 
was  winning,  his  voice 
perfectly  modulated, 
whether  in  conversa- 
tion or  in  oratory.  He 
had  a  keen  sense  of 
humor,  the  concomi- 
tant of  keen  percep- 
tion. Born  in  the  best 
circles  of  society,  the 
self  -  restraint  of  a 
gentleman  was  as  a 
second  nature.  His 
natural  virtues  would  have  made  him  an  attractive 
character  under  any  circumstances.  Although  he 
had  the  temper  of  a  scholar,  it  did  not  dwarf  his 


Q" 


THE  1*  SIGN 


executive  talent,  as  was  shown  by  his  election  to 
two  college  presidencies,  his  service  as  a  soldier 
and  his  whole  career  after  he  came  into  the  Church. 

As  a  youth  he  loved  the  adventure  of  Alpine 
climbing,  and  in  the  army,  where  he  served  for  six 
months  in  the  Second  Massachusetts  Regiment,  his 
military  abilty  was  proved  by  his  attaining  to  the 
rank  of  captain,  after  he  had  risen  from  the  ranks. 
He  was  wounded  in  battle  and  forced  to  retire. 
This  episode  in  his  career  was  so  brief  as  to  be 
almost  forgotten,  but 
it  was  strenuous  and 
left  its  mark  upon  him. 
His  brother  fell  by  his 
side  at  Gettysburg,  and 
he  lost  too,  an  intimate 
friend  in  the  person  of 
Arthur  Dehon,  also  a 
member  of  the  Second 
Massachuse  tts,  of 
which  Fletcher  Web- 
ster, the  son  of  the 
great  Daniel,  was 
Colonel,  until  he  too 
was   killed. 

Many  years  after- 
wards in  a  letter  from 
Santa  Clara,  Cuba,  in 
speaking  of  the  battle 
of  Santiago,  he  wrote : 
"I  cannot  resist  the 
temptation  of  saying 
that  my  old  regiment, 
the  Second  Massachu- 
setts was  there  with 
Roosevelt  and  Persh- 
ing." 


FATHER    FIDELIS    OF    THE    CROSS 


invocation  of  the  saints  was  to  go  back  promptly 
and  penitently  to  the  Ancient  Church  which  proved 
its  infallibility  by  being  in  the  right  after  all.'  No, 
he  was  not  Ritualistic;  neither  was  he  Non-Con- 
formist. He  held  to  the  Anglican  Communion  as 
reproducing  a  primitive  church,  he  assumed  that  the 
Anglican  church  was  Apostolic  both  in  succession 
and  in  creed,  and  he  gave  her  the  devotion  of  his 
soul — 'not  knowing  an  older  and  better,'  he  said. 
He  stood  with  confidence  on  this  ground  and  thought 
himself  a  genuine  Ca- 
tholic free  from  Papal 
and  Puritan  innovation. 
His  friends  at  Kenyon 
were  'dissenters'  and 
he  came  to  Hobart." 

He  was  ordained  to 
the  Episcopal  ministry 
in  1866  and  later  his 
scholarship  and  learn- 
ing were  recognized  by 
the  degree  of  doctor  of 
divinity,  and  he  is  said 
to  have  declined  the 
bishopric  of  Michigan. 
Meantime  his  life  was 
happy  with  congenial 
work  and  in  the  bosom 
of  his  family  whom  he 
loved  devotedly.  His 
cup  of  happiness  was 
full.  He  had  an  in- 
tensely affectionate  na- 
ture, and  craved  a  re- 
turn of  the  love  which 
he  gave  in  full  measure. 


XN  a  sketch,  written  by  his  close  friend,  Father 
Felix  Ward,  C.P.,  light  is  thrown  upon  his 
tendencies  as  an  Episcopalian.  "Kenyon  was 
low  church,  and  his  own  high  church  learnings  led 
him  to  resign  the  presidency  of  Kenyon  and  to 
accept  that  of  Geneva,  N.  Y.  Not  that  he  was 
'Ritualistic,'  for  he  regarded  that  movement  with 
impatience  as  illogical.  'If  the  Ritualists  were  right,' 
he  said,  'the  Reformers  were  wrong  and  the  great 
sin  of  schism  could  never  be  justified  by  such  paltry 
differences  as  separated  them  from  the  great  Roman 
Church.  The  only  consistent  course  for  a  man  who 
believes  in  the  Great  Sacrifice  of  the  Altar  and  the 


BPPARENTLY  he  had  no  full  appreciation  of 
the  weakness  of  the  Anglican  foundation  until 
they  were  about  to  crumble.  In  a  letter  to 
Father  Edmund  Hill,  C.  P.  written  from  Buenos 
Aires  in  1893,  he  gave  some  Latin  verses  per- 
fectly Catholic  in  their  tone,  "redolent  of  the 
cloister  and  the  Middle  Ages."  They  had  been 
written  in  his  father's  library  in  October  1861.  He 
tells  his  friend  that  after  Commencement  Day  at 
Harvard,  the  year  of  his  graduation,  he  wrote  these 
lines  and  was  never  able  to  account  for  the  inspira- 
tion.. There  were  no  Catholic  works  in  the  library, 
except  the  Latin  Vulgate.  This  he  was  wont  to  read, 
dwelling   especially   upon    the    Psalms   and    Isaias. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


He  was  familiar,  too,  with  the  singing  parts  of 
Rossini's  Stabat  Mater,  which  gave  him  the  metre. 
It  is  not  too  violent  a  presumption  that,  even  at 
this  early  age,  he  belonged,  at  least  in  part,  to  the 
spirit  of  the  Church.  Indeed,  it  is  a  commonplace 
that  after  the  lapse  of  four  centuries  of  erroneous 
teachings,  much  yet  re- 
mains of  Christian  truth 
among  our  separated  bre- 
thren, which  needs  but 
good  will  and  opportunity 
to  develop  Faith. 

It   would   have    been 
impossible  for  a  mind  so 
open  and  candid  as  that 
of  James  Kent  Stone,  after 
pursuing  a  course  of  the- 
ology    offered     by     any 
Christian      denomination, 
not  to  have  given,  eventu- 
ally, earnest  study  to  the 
proofs  of  Catholic  Truth. 
Too  many  men  seek  in  the 
study     of     religion     and 
philosophy  to  sustain  preconceived 
theories  which  fit  in,  either  with 
their    personal    interests,    or   with 
ease  of  life.     It  is  so  much  more 
comfortable  to  go  with  the  stream. 

All  converts  from  the  subtle- 
minded  Newman  to  the  humble 
man  who  can  grasp  but  the  penny 
catechism  have  found  the  same 
difficulty.  The  charm  and  beauty 
of  the  English  Liturgy,  adopted 
by  master  writers  in  the  Eliza- 
bethan age  and  repeated  from 
childhood,  have  brought  inspira- 
tion and  consolation  to  many  a 
soul.  Even  stronger  than  the 
association  of  the  forms  of  prayer 
and  church  services,  are  the  social 
and  family  ties,  which  mean  much  to  all  of  us,  but 
are  especially  strong  with  an  affectionate  and  gentle 
nature.  Added  to  these  considerations  is  the  melan- 
choly fact  of  four  hundred  years  of  misrepresentation 
until  the  very  atmosphere  of  Catholic  Truth  has  to 
be  created  among  those  who  have  inherited  the 
prejudices  of  "far  off  unhappy  days." 


IE   AUTHOR 


:R   MAURICE 


ENT  Stone's  easy  familiarity  with  the  Greek 
and  Latin  languages  made  it  comparatively 
easy    for   him    to    read    the    writings    of    the 
Fathers,  and  it  would  seem  as  if  he  had  verified 
by  his  own  researches,  or  corrected  where   inade- 
quate quotations  were  made  the  authorities  quoted 
among    his    favorite    An- 
glican divines.     Bull,  An- 
drewes,    Barrows,    Jewell 
were  mastered,  and  sooner 
or  later  his   subconscious 
mind  analyzed  the  errors 
of  their  reasoning  in  op- 
position   to    the    Catholic 
Church. 

While  this  mental 
process  was  going  on,  he 
was  himself  speaking  and 
writing  quite  unconscious- 
ly, but  naturally  enough, 
in  the  same  vein. 

No  man  knows,  per- 
haps, exactly  how  his  con- 
version has  come  about. 
He  can,  perhaps,  trace  the  first 
doubt,  but  the  multitude  of  im- 
pressions and  suggestions  that 
have  finally  prepared  the  mind 
for  the  act  of  volition  to  accept, 
and  then  the  earnest  desire  to 
receive  the  gift  of  Faith  are  hardly 
explicable.  Dr.  Stone  tells  us 
himself  the  steps  of  his  progress, 
but  he  does  not  profess  to  under- 
stand them  fully.  His  formal  sub- 
mission to  the  Church  followed  the 
appeal  of  Pope  Pius  IX.  after  his 
Encyclical  summoning  the  Ecu- 
menical Council  which  assembled 
in  1870  in  Rome.  The  Pope's 
letter  addressed  to  "Protestants 
and  other  Non-Catholics"  was 
dated  September  13,  1869. 

Father  Fidelis  writes:  "It  was  early  dawn,  a 
dark  morning  in  the  Autumn  of  1868.  I  had 
not  yet  risen,  but  had  roused  myself  and  lay  listen- 
ing in  pleased  fashion,  to  the  'pipe  of  half  awakened 
birds'  and  wondering  when  the  college  bell  would 
ring,  when  of  a  sudden  the  thought  came  to  me : 
What  if  the  old  Roman  Church  should  be  right  after 


PAULIST   1872 


THE  t*  SIGN 


all?  Such  an  idea  had  never  before  entered  my 
mind. 

"I  lay  trembling  and  very  still and  then 

material  things  vanished  and  I  seemed  to  see  above 
me  vast  depths  as  of  an  unillumined  sky.  While 
I  looked  a  door  was  opened  in  heaven  and  there 
was  light  there,  a  pale  radiance,  that  grew  in  un- 
imaginable beauty, — the  'light  that  never  was  on 
sea  or  land,'  and  in  a  moment  more  I  beheld  far, 
far  away,  the  vision  of  a  great  White  City  like  unto 
the  heavenly  Jeursalem  slowly  described  with 
towers  and  battlements,  that  I  did  not  dare  to  gaze 
upon,  for  they  were  luminous  with  a  splendor  that 


a  flash  I  knew  that  no  intellectual  decision  was  pos- 
sible in  such  a  moment;  it  was  my  will  alone  which 
must  act.  With  a  voiceless  cry  to  Heaven,  I  sum- 
moned all  the  many  energies  of  my  soul,  and  offered 
up  blindly  as  in  sacrifice  all  the  possibilities  of  life 
and  in  death,  I  made  a  resolve — a  simple,  intense 
resolve, — to  be  true,  true  to  God,  true  to  my  con- 
science, true  to  myself. 

"It  was  all  I  could  do. 

"I  looked  again,  but  the  vision  had  faded,  and 
the  room  was  growing  bright  in  the  light  of  common 
day,  then  a  weakness  came  over  me  but  my  soul 
was  at  peace." 


FATHER   FIDELIS'   FIRST   PASSIONIST   FOUNDATION,    BUENOS   AIRES,   THE   ARGENTINE 


did  not  fall  upon  them  from  above  nor  from  without 
but  which  came  from  within,  and  I  knew  the  glory 
of  God  was  there  and  that  the  Lamb  was  the  light 
thereof., 

"Then  came  a  voice  quick  and  sharp  with  words 
inaudible  to  the  bodily  sense,  yet  which  rang 
insistently  through  my  startled  soul,  and  the  words 
were  these :  'Shut  that  door,  shut  out  that  dream — 
if  you  look  you  will  lose  your  head  as  others  have 
before  you.'  The  voice  was  not  from  heaven.  I 
was  sure  of  that.  Was  it  diabolical?  I  thought  so 
then,  but  I  knew  not.  .  .  .1  simply  knew  that  a  great 
temptation  had  come,  and  had  taken  me  by  sur- 
prise and  I  must  fight  then  and  there Then  in 


DOW  came  to  his  mind  the  word  of  a  fellow- 
churchman — his    'beloved    Richard    Hooker' : 
"If  truth  doth  anywhere  manifest  itself  seek 
not  to  smother  it  with  glossing  delusions,  acknow- 
ledge the  features  thereof;  and  think  it  your  best 
victory  when  the  same  doth  prevail  over  you." 

He  experienced  the  same  mental  struggle  de- 
scribed by  many  a  convert  and  the  same  sense  of 
"blank  desolateness":  "I  was  groping  amongst 
ruins  and  wherewith  should  I  go  to  build  again?.  .  .  . 
On  the  one  hand  I  put  aside.  .  .  .cherished  opinions; 
hallowed  associations;  the  intellectual  and  social 
accumulations  of  my  life  thus  far;    a  useful  and 


THE  1*  SIGN 


honorable  position,  fair  hopes  and  plans  long  pon- 
dered; the  grief  of  hearts  more  dear  than  hopes 
or  plans  or  life  itself.  On  the  other  hand  I  had  to 
be  on  my  guard  against,  what?.  .  .  .On  the  side  of 
the  Church  of  Rome  there  was  absolutely  nothing — 
unless  indeed  it  might  be  some  attraction  in  the  very 
completion  of  the  immolation;  and  so  I  set  my  face 
forward  with  desperate  earnestness  and  in  due  time 
— it  may  seem  a  very  short  time — I  had  not  a  trace 
of  doubt  left  that  I  had  all  along  been  a  vain  enemy 
of  the  One,  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church." 

Dr.  Stone  was  received  into  the  Church 
December  8,  1869, 
at  Madison,  N.  J. 
by  Dr.  Wigger, 
the  pastor,  later 
Bishop  of  New- 
ark. With  cha- 
racteristic zeal 
and  love  for  those 
who  had  been  as 
he,  he  gave  him- 
self up  to  the 
work  of  writing 
"  The  Invitation 
Heeded,"  at  once 
an  apology,  like 
Cardinal  New- 
man's famous 
work,  and  an  ap- 
peal to  Protest- 
ants. 

"When  the 
task  was  finish- 
ed," says  Father 
Ward,  "he  received  a  letter  of  introduction  from 
Doctor  Wigger  to  the  Rector  of  Fordham,  where 
he  wished  to  spend  a  few  days  in  prayer.  On  the 
way  he  stopped  to  see  Bishop  Bayley  and  Doctor 
Doane,  at  Newark.  They  wanted  him  to  spend  the 
night  with  them.  Doctor  Stone  held  up  the  letter 
saying:  'I  am  due  at  Fordham  this  evening.' 
Doctor  Doane  took  the  letter,  which  began:  My  Dear 
Father  Rector,'  and  inserted  it  in  another  envelope 
and  addressed  it  to  the  Rector  at  West  Hoboken. 
Handing  it  to  Doctor  Stone  he  said:  'Doctor,  remain 
with  us  tonight.  The  carriage  will  be  ready  to  take 
you  over  to  the  Passionist  Fathers  in  the  morning  to 
begin  your  retreat.'  Doctor  Stone  acquisced.  Doctor 
Wigger  intended  that  letter  for  the  Jesuit  Rector,  but 
Providence  intended  it  for  the  Passionist  Rector." 


WITH    FATHER   MARK    MOESLEIN,    C.    P.,   AT   CORPUS    CHRISTI.    TKXA 


nE  made  his  retreat  under  the  direction  of 
Father  John  Philip  Baudinelli,  who  first  sug- 
gested to  him  that  he  become  a  Passionist. 
By  advice  of  his  friends  he  became  a  Paulist,  with 
the  understanding  that  he  might  retire  to  the  Pas- 
sionist Order  if  later  the  way  seemed  clear.  Father 
Hecker,  the  then  head  of  the  Paulists,  loved  and 
admired  the  Passionists  and  did  not  forget  Doctor 
Stone  while  in  Rome.  Cardinal  McCloskey  ordained 
him  December  21,  1872. 

Now  began  formally,  the  third,  last  and  longest 
period  of  this  wonderful  life.     Father  Stone  was  a 

missionary        b  y 

nature.  As  a  Paul- 
ist his  success  was 
immediate  and 
assured.  Great 
c  o  n  g  r  e  g  ations 
hung  upon  his 
words.  Throngs 
of  penitents  ga- 
thered about  his 
confessional.  But 
the  insistent  call 
to  a  stricter  rule 
was  not  to  be  put 
aside.  It  was 
necessary  for  him 
before  entering 
the  Passionist 
Order  to  make 
provision  for  his 
children.  The 
three  little  girls 
were  then  at  the 
Academy  of  the  Sisters  of  Mercy,  Manchester, 
N.  H.,  where  the  second  one  died.  The  two  surviv- 
ing daughters  were  then  adopted  by  Michael  J. 
O'Connor,  now  of  San  Francisco,  Calif. 

The  soldier  of  Christ  stood  now  as  an  athlete 
stripped  for  combat.  He  had  sacrificed  all  that 
was  nearest  and  dearest  to  his  human  affections, 
though  the  love  of  his  venerable  mother  remained 
with  him  until  her  death  in  her  ninetieth  year.  He 
never  faltered  on  the  long  dreary  pilgrimage  which 
took  more  than  a  half  century  to  complete.  Neither 
his  work  for  souls  nor  the  vicissitudes  of  travel  ever 
stilled  the  yearning  of  his  heart  for  the  affection 
which  was  legitimately  his,  but  which  was  gone 
from  him  irretrievably. 


THE  +  SIGN 


XN  August  11,  1878,  Father  Stone  was  received 
into  the  Passionist  Order  at  Pittsburgh,  Pa. 
He  took  the  name  of  Fidelis  of  the  Cross. 
At  once  he  became  distinguished  and  successful  as 
a  preacher  of  missions  to  which  he  gave  himself 
with  all  the  ardor  of  his  nature.  "The  Invitation 
Heeded"  went  through  seventeen  editions  and  was 
translated  into  foreign  languages.  It  fixed  his  place 
as  a  controversial  writer  and  has  been  compared 
for  its  strength  with  Cardinal  Newman's  great 
"Apologia".  The  beauty  of  his  style  was  not  less 
pronounced  in  the  pulpit  than  on  the  printed  page. 
He  wrote  no  more  for  publication  until  the  last  year 
of  his  life  he  revised  his  book  and  republished  it, 
with  some  fragmentary  letters  and  descriptions, 
under  the  title  "An  Awakening  and  What  Followed". 
It  is  to  be  regretted  that  he  did  not  write  more. 
His  vast  learning  gained  before  his  thirtieth  year 
was  rarely  drawn  upon  or  systematically  added  to 
thereafter,  from  the  very  exigencies  of  his  life. 

He  spent  three  years  in  Rome  when  he  was 
made  superior  of  the  Passionist  houses  in  South 
America.  Then  followed  twelve  years  working, 
preaching,  and  founding  houses  in  Argentina,  Chile, 
and  Brazil.  During  an  epidemic  of  small-pox  in 
Buenos  Aires,  with  but  one  assistant  he  worked  to 
the  point  of  exhaustion.  Sometimes  on  the  Argen- 
tine pampas,  sometimes  in  the  tropical  forests  of 
Paraguay  and  Brazil,  and  then  by  the  curving  shores 
of  Chile,  where  he  looked  on  the  one  side  across  the 
Pacific,  and  on  the  other  on  the  towering  peaks 
of  the  Andes,  he  pursued  his  wo:  k  "without  haste 
and  without  rest." 

Eight  times  he  passed  through  the  Straits  of 
Magellan.  Many  times  he  crossed  the  South  Ameri- 
can Continent.  After  twelve  years  of  arduous 
service  in  South  America  where  he  left  his  monu- 
ments in  six  houses  of  his  Order,  he  returned  to  the 
United  States.  Here  he  held  the  offices  of  Pro- 
vincial-Consultor,  Master  of  Novices  and  Provincial. 
During  his  Provincialship  he  made  arrangements 
for  the  foundation  of  a  monastery  in  his  native  city 
of  Boston. 

XN  1896  the  Faculty  of  Harvard  University 
invited  him  to  preach  and  repeated  the  invi- 
tation in  1897,  when  he  accepted  and  deli- 
vered a  masterly  discourse  on  "Fidelity  to  Grace 
Received."  At  the  urgent  request  of  President  Eliot 
he  took  charge  of  the  1400  teachers  who  attended 
the  summer  school  at  Harvard  in  1901. 


In  1908  he  was  recalled  to  South  America  where 
he  remained  until  1914  when  he  was  assigned  to 
Mexico. 

In  a  graphic  letter  he  speaks  of  his  journeying 
through  Spain  before  taking  steamer  to  close  his 
affairs.  When  the  steamer  reached  Rio  the  war 
had  broken  out  and  he  was  detained  for  a  year 
longer  than  anticipated.  He  made  farewell  visits 
to  the  houses  of  Argentine,  Brazil  and  Chile.  His 
steamer  was  chased  through  the  Straits  of  Magellan 
by  the  German  steamer  Dresden,  and  when  he  finally 
reached  Panama  he  found  his  entrance  to  Mexico 
barred  by  the  revolution.  The  monasteries  of  the 
Order  in  that  unhappy  country  had  been  seized  and 
desecrated.  Therefore  he  settled  for  a  while  in 
Cuba,  until  permission  came  to  take  up  a  mission  at 
Corpus  Christi,  Texas.  It  was  his  hope  to  go  from 
there  to  Mexico  when  political  conditions  should  be 
settled  and  recover  the  property  of  the  Order.  He 
was  now  a  very  old  man,  but  his  gallantry  would 
have  taken  him  into  the  very  heart  of  the  disturbed 
country  had  it  been  possible.  Reluctantly  he  had 
to  put  the  purpose  by.  In  1919  he  retired  to  Nor- 
wood Park,  Chicago. 

For  the  past  two  years,  until  May  1921,  he 
rested  at  Norwood,  as  much  as  his  growing  physical 
ailments  would  permit.  At  times  he  suffered  tor- 
tures of  pain  but  he  bore  all  with  heroism,  striving 
to  make  light  of  it  when  in  the  midst  of  a  very 
paroxism. 

BS  if  in  answer  to  a  half  century  of  yearning 
and  prayer  his  daughter  Frances  came  to  him 
bringing  the  assurance  of  a  filial  affection 
that  was  balm  to  his  spirit.  It  fell  about  him  like 
a  benediction  and  seemed  to  give  him  a  new  lease 
of  life.  His  strength  was  so  far  returned  that,  with 
the  permission  of  his  superior,  he  yielded  to  her 
invitation  to  go  with  her  to  her  sunny  home  in  San 
Mateo.  He  bore  the  journey  well  through  the  high 
altitudes  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  notwithstanding 
high  blood-pressure,  and  after  a  brief  rest  was  able 
to  say  Mass  on  Pentecost  Sunday  and  thereafter 
every  day  until  within  two  days  of  his  death.  This 
was  in  his  daughter's  private  chapel,  with  herself, 
her  sister  Mary,  (Madame  de  Cazotte),  and  his 
grandson,  Mary's  son  Michael,  as  the  congregation. 
Such  a  consummation  gave  him,  no  doubt,  a  fore- 
taste of  his  eternal  reward.  It  was  beyond  his  hopes 
of  earthly  happiness.  Notwithstanding  his  gradual- 
ly declining  strength  he  was  well  enough  to  realize 


THE  +  SIGN 


in  full  measure  his  crowning  earthly  blessing.  And 
then  the  end  came  quickly.  Conscious  until  his 
last  breath,  praying  his  favorite  ejaculations,  and 
the  while  holding  in  his  hands  his  little  crucifix,  and 
having  about  his  neck  his  rosary,  he  died  in  the 
arms  of  his  daughter  Frances,  with  Mary  and 
Michael  present,  and  a  priest  reciting  the  Office 
of  the  dying.  And  so  the  great  summons  came. 
He  had  been  waiting  for  it  long. 

nE  closes  the  last  chapter  of  "An  Awakening" 
with  an  apostrophe  which  shows  his  perfect 
peace :  "And  now  what  can  we  do,  my  soul, 
but  wait,  watching  for  that  knocking  at  the  gate 
of  which  our  Lord  speaks,  and  which  St.  Gregory 
interprets  as  the  kindly  warning  of  one  who  comes 
and  bids  us  open.  Wouldst  thou  have  him  tarry? 
Nay,  thou  hast  little  to  gain  and  much  to  lose;  or 
wouldst  thou  linger  to  parley  with  thy  friends?  They 
are  gone  long  since,  those  friends  of  thy  youth; 
and  those  of  later  years,  they  too  are  going  one  by 


one;  they  have  outstripped  thee.  Wouldst  thou 
not  enter  with  them  into  that  City  of  God  which 
once  thou  didst  behold  so  far  away?  Oh!  Blessed 
mission  of  peace:  Beata  pads  visio,  have  I  forgot- 
ten thee,  nay,  he  will  be  my  friend  indeed  who  shall 
bring  to  me  the  message;  'The  Master  is  come  and 
calleth  for  thee.'  " 

At  Normandy,  Mo.  his  mortal  remains  are  in- 
terred with  his  brethren  at  the  monastery  of  Our 
Lady  of  Good  Counsel.  The  last  obsequies  were 
celebrated  in  the  church  erected  by  another  great 
missionary,  the  Jesuit  Father  de  Smet,  not  far  from 
the  beautiful  Florissant  Valley  hallowed  by  the  work 
of  that  great  man  and  his  companions  and  by 
Mother  Duquesne,  the  saintly  foundress  of  the 
Sacred  Heart  in  America. 

That  fair  country  will  ever  be  blessed  by  the 
works  of  these  great  servants  of  God.  It  is  a  fitting 
resting  place  for  the  mortal  remains  of  one,  whose 
every  thought  was  given,  as  were  theirs,  to  the 
greater  glory  of  God. 


T 


ree   or 


Crib? 


A    Parent' 
"iir^ELL,  Bob,  I  suppose  you  have  your  Xmas 
\\J   tree  bought  by  this  time,"  said  I. 

"No  sir!"  he  replied,  smiling;  "no  more 
Xmas  trees  for  me." 

"Man  dear!"  I  cried,  aghast;  "no  Xmas  tree  for 
the  children?    Where  is  your  Xmas  spirit?" 

Bob's  smile  only  grew  wider.  "The  children 
don't  want  any,  "he  said.  "They  have  something 
better  than  all  the  Xmas  trees  in  the  world;  and  if 
your  kiddies  saw  it,  they  would  be  as  green  as  your 
old  tree,  with  longing  for  it." 

"Talk  is  cheap,"  said  I,  sneering. 

"Come  home  with  me,  if  you  wish  to  be  con- 
vinced," was  his  final  retort. 

At  the  door  his  boys  met  us  with  glad  shouts. 
"We  were  waiting  for  you,  Dad,"  they  cried,  leading 
the  way  into  the  cellar.  There  the  three  took  off 
their  coats,  and  seized  hammer  and  nails  and  paint 
and  brush.  Then  they  set  to  work  on  something 
resembling  a  miniature  cave,  cut  out  neatly  in  a  mass 
of  papier  mache  rocks,  which  stretched  up  and  back 
from  the  opening. 

"What  is  it,  anyway?"    I  asked. 

ll 


;    Parable 

The  little  fellows  stared  up  at  me  with  surprise, 
and,  I  thought,  pity. 

"What  do  you  think  it  might  be?"  returned 
Bob. 

"It  looks  to  me  like  a  little  cave, — or  stable," 
I  replied. 

"Well,"  he  said  quietly,  "did  you  never  hear  of 
Anybody  being  born  in  a  stable — on  Xmas  day? 

Suddenly  my  face  burned. 

Bob  kept  on  gently.  "Tom,"  he  said,  "what  on 
earth  is  the  sense  of  dressing  up  the  old  tree,  like 
the  pagan  Druid  priests  used  to  do  ?  Instead  of  buy- 
ing a  lot  of  cheap  tinsel  and  gaudy  colored  Xmas 
balls,  to  hang  on  a  dead  tree,  why  not  spend  your 
money  in  making  a  little  shelter  in  your  home  for 
the  One  Who  started  Xmas.  Come  around  with  the 
children  on  Xmas  morning,  and  see  who  has  the 
real  Xmas  spirit.  Every  year  we  get  some  new  ideas 
in  fixing  up  His  little  home;  and  now  we  have  the 
prettiest  crib " 

But  I  had  gone,  to  get  my  own  boys,  to  make 
a  Xmas  crib,  that  would  beat  Bob's,  "all  hollow." 


The  Christmas   Mass  of  Pope  Gregory 

(Anno  Domini  1075.) 


Gabriel  Francis  Powers 


^^^^HE  crowd  was  breaking  up.  The  speaker 
#  £j  who  had  been  addressing  them,  a  man  of 
^^^^  noble  mien  and  of  an  earnest,  spiritual 
cast  of  countenance,  left  the  position  he 
had  taken  upon  the  steps  of  the  Basilica  of  the 
Apostle  and  made  his  way  through  the  old  portico 
and  atrium  to  the  interior  of  the  church.  There  he 
knelt  humbly  on  the  marble  floor  before  the  shrine 
of  Our  Lady  with  its  mosaics  on  gold  ground,  close 
to  the  Porta  Santa.  Outside,  the  last  words  flung 
down  in  that  sonorous  voice  seemed  to  be  ringing 
still:  "My  people,  remember  Christ  Crucified.... 
Remember  Christ  Crucified,  and  that  sorrowful 
Mother  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross,  and  you  will  certain- 
ly sin  no  more." 

Awed,  in  spite  of  themselves,  and  wondering, 
his  hearers  dispersed,  some  into  the  basilica  to  pray, 
others  hurrying  off  to  their  business,  the  numerous 
small  vendors  on  the  steps  and  in  the  paradisus, 
back  to  their  wares  of  silk  goods,  leaden  images 
and  food  stuffs.  "Well,  well,  well,"  quoth  one  old 
dame  as  she  returned  to  her  dusty  figs  and  nuts, 
"many  a  time  have  I  heard  that  before,  but  never 
from  the  likes  of  him!  Time  was  when  only  church- 
men preached." 

"Who  is  the  orator?"  enquired  a  prospective 
customer.  . 

"Who?  You  may  well  ask  that!  No  less  a 
person  than  the  Prefect  of  the  city  himself,  the 
noble  Cinthius.  He  has  got  it  into  his  head  that 
the  people  of  Rome  are  going  to  the  dogs,  and  he 
is  going  to  help  save  them  by  preaching  himself. 
Lackaday,  but  this  world  is  turned  around!" 

The  Prefect  having  finished  his  devotions, 
mounted  his  horse  which  an  attendant  held  by  the 
bridle  at  the  foot  of  the  steps,  and  came  slowly 
by  the  Borgo,  past  the  Mausoleum  of  Hadrian,  still 
admirably  preserved,  to  the  Bridge  once  known  as 
AElius  and  then  as  Santo  Pietro.  He  crossed  it 
toward  the  city  side,  forgetting  the  blue  sky  over- 
head and  the  golden  water  flowing  in  the  December 
sunshine  under  the  ancient  arches,  as  he  approached 
that  dread  eyescore,  the  tower  which  the  rebellious 
Cencio,  the  head  of  all  the  malcontents  in  the  city 
and  constant  opposer  of  the  Pontiff  Gregory,  had 
dared  to  erect,  amost  like  a  defiance  at  the  entrance 
to  the  bridge.  Cinthius  knew  very  well  that  the 
tower  should  not  be   there.     A  year  ago  he  had 


endeavored  to  have  it  seized  and  its  builder  pun- 
ished, but  Cencio's  party  was  too  powerful  and 
Cinthius  himself  had  been  obliged  to  release  his 
prisoner,  lest  a  revolution  break  out. 

^^^HERE  was  some  trouble  at  the  tower  now. 
^^J  A  group  had  formed,  the  idle  were  running 
to  see,  and  shouts  and  a  calling  for  the 
guard  rang  out  upon  the  air.  "Here!  Here  is  the 
Lord  Prefect  himself!  Now  will  you  let  them 
pass?"  Cinthius  took  the  scene  in  at  a  glance. 
A  group  of  seven  men,  evidently  poor  pilgrims, 
stood  at  the  entrance  to  the  bridge,  held  back  by 
the  spears  of  Cencio's  soldiery,  and  the  assembled 
crowd,  loudly  vociferous,  took  part — here  for  the 
strangers,  and  there  for  the  men  at  arms.  Cinthius 
enquired  the  cause  of  the  disturbance  but  so  many 
voices  imparted  the  desired  information  that  the 
words  were  confused.  He  addressed  himself  to 
the  foreigners  and,  in  bad  Latin,  their  spokesman 
replied:  "We  have  no  money,  Sir;  indeed  we  would 
pay  if  we  could.  We  have  come  all  the  way  from 
Canterbury  afoot,  begging  our  way  through  the  land 
of  the  Franks  and  Lombards.  We  cannot  break 
bread  until  we  come  to  the  shrine  of  the  Most 
Blessed  Apostle." 

The  Prefect  turned  to  the  Captain  of  Cencio's 
ruffianly  mercenaries.  "Do  you  understand?  They 
are  poor  pilgrims  going  to  the  Shrine  of  Blessed 
Peter.    They  have  no  money." 

"That  is  no  concern  of  mine.  My  orders  are 
to  see  that  no  man,  woman  or  child  passes  this 
bourne  without  paying  toll  for  the  bridge." 

Again  the  blue-eyed  Saxon  spoke  up:  "Sir, 
if  he  would  let  us  pass  to  the  hospice  of  our  nation 
across  the  river,  no  doubt  we  could  get  money  and 
come  back  and  pay." 

"You  will  pass  for  once  without  paying,  friend, 
or  I  will  know  the  reason  why.  Stand  back  there, 
men,  and  let  these  poor  strangers  through  in  the 
name  of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ." 

"That  may  be  a  friend  of  your  master's,  Sir 
Prefect;  not  of  mine.  I  have  my  orders,  and  that 
is  enough." 

"Let  them  pass,  do  you  hear,  or  you  will  rue 
it!     Here,   strangers,  pass".... 

"How  dare  you!  How  dare  you,  you  dastardly 
Cinthius?    Is  not  this  my  tower,  and  have  not  I.  ." 


THE  +  SIGN 


The  Prefect  drew  his  sword.  This  was  Cencio  in 
person,  come  down  from  the  upper  chamber,  mad 
with  fury,  his  evil  eyes  rolling  in  his  head.  "Take 
your  hand  off  my  bridle!"  the  Prefect  commanded. 
He  was  alone,  but  for  the  groom  behind  him,  while 
Cencio  had  a  swarm  of  men-at-arms  at  his  command, 
and  he  knew  his  peril,  but  he  had  the  advantage 
of  being  mounted. 

"You  were  warned  a  year  ago  that  His  Holiness 
would  not  endure  this  holding  up  of  peaceful  citizens 
and  visitors  coming  from  afar  to  the  Tomb  of  the 
Apostle.  It  is  a  disgrace  to  our  city  of  Rome  that 
you  should  take  it  upon  yourself  to  close  a  highway 
and  the  bridge  of  St.  Peter  to  levy  toll  upon  the 
passers-by." 

"The  tower  is  mine,  I  built  it;  and  I  have  a 
right  to  say  who  shall  pass  through  this  gateway." 

"You  have  no  right  to  build  a  tower  at  the 
entrance  to  a  public  bridge;  you  have  no  right  to 
interfere  with  the  traffic;  you  have  no  right  to 
extort  payment  forcibly  from  persons  over  whom 
you  have  no  authority.  This  was  all  made  plain 
to  you  a  year  ago." 

"Go  and  complain  to  your  Pope  if  you  are  not 
satisfied,  dog  of  a  Prefect!  You  have  done  me 
harm  enough  already  by  stealing  from  me  the 
office  which  now  is  yours  and  which  should  have 
been  mine!  Do  you  think  I  can  forget  so  easily? 
Cinthius  is  Prefect,  and  better  men  than  he  must 
make  their  living  as  they  can.  You  would  stop  me, 
would  you?  Watch  lest  I  make  your  master  too 
pay  for  your  insolence.  Here,  men,  lock  these  fool 
pilgrims  in  the  dungeon.  They  shall  not  pass  now. 
They  shall  not  pass  if  that  mockery  of  a  prince, 
thy  Pope,  come  in  person  to  beg  for  them.  Cinthius 
hath  crossed  me,  and  woe  betide  the  man  who 
crosses   Cencio!" 

>    f"     SHARP  scuffle  followed.     The  mercenaries 

J I      seized  the  poor  pilgrims  and  dragged  them 

within  the  tower;  partizans  of  the  Prefect 
took  stones  to  throw  at  Cencio;  others,  partisans  of 
Cencio,  rallied  around  the  soldiers;  blows  began 
to  rain;  the  cries  of  the  Saxons  who,  being  unarmed, 
resorted  to  fighting  their  captors  with  their  fists, 
mingled  with  the  cries  of  the  Roman  populace, 
only  too  familiar  with  street  brawls.  Cinthius 
groaned  aloud,  and  set  his  horse  at  a  gallop  in  the 
direction  of  the  guards'  quarters.  How  many  men 
can  you  let  me  have,  now,  at  once?"  "Eight.  .  .  . 
perhaps  ten...." — Again   Cinthius   groaned. — "My 


faith!  Ten  Men  to  protect  the  city  of  Rome!  Call 
together  any  citizens  who  will  stand  by  you.  Arm 
them  in  any  way  you  can!  That  tower  of  Cencio 
on  the  bridge  is  coming  down  now,  today,  before 
the  sun  sets.  This  city  has  too  many  masters  by  far!" 
It  was  done  as  he  said.  Before  sunset  the 
captives  had  been  set  free,  Cencio  arrested,  and  the 
tower  demolished.  And  in  many  secret  places  of  the 
city,  the  followers  of  the  arrogant  citizen  who  con- 
sidered himself  the  equal  of  the  Pontiff  and  of  the 
noblest  men  in  the  state,  gathered  to  consider  what 
they  would  do. 

Cinthius  betook  himself  to  the  palace  to 
render  an  account  in  person  of  what  had  taken  place 
in  the  city  that  day. 

Dusk  was  falling,  but  the  great  Pontiff  bowed 
still  over  his  writing,  in  his  room  that  the  sfndcws 
were  invading. 

He  would  receive  the  Lord  Prefect  at  once. 

GINTHIUS,  entering  noiselessly,  bowed  over 
the  sacred  foot.  Gregory  raised  him  quickly. 
A  man  of  indifferent  stature,  not  commanding 
in  appearance,  but  with  marvellous  eyes,  full  of 
intense  light,  and  with  more  concentrated  vigor  and 
energy  of  life  in  those  eyes  than  is  commonly  seen 
in  one  hundred  gifted  men. — "Ah,  Sir  Prefect,  you 
are  the  very  person  we  wished  to  see.  Christmas 
draws  near.  We  must  not  forget  the  annual  bounty, 
corn,  oil,  and  some  small  largesse,  that  the  poor 
who  ever  suffer  most  should  suffer  a  little  less, 
when  He  comes  who  chose  to  take  their  state." 
"It  shall  be  done  as  Your  Holiness  commands." 
"The  diaconie  will  attend  to  most  of  the  needy, 
but  we  give  you  special  charge  to  see  that  none  is 
neglected  in  the  city  at  this  time.  .  .Now  another 
matter,  good  Cinthius,  it  has  been  reported  to  us 
that  you  are  preaching  to  the  people,  that  you  have 
even  preached  at  St.  Peter's;  and  though  we  com- 
mend your  zeal — highly — and  could  desire  that 
some  who  have  the  obligation  would  discharge  it 
as  earnestly,  yet,  for  the  sake  of  order  in  all  ranks 
of  the  Church,  henceforth  you  will  desist  from 
preaching.  We  express  this  wish  with  all  deference 
and  benevolence  toward  our  true  and  loyal  son, 
the  Prefect  of  our  city  of  Rome." 

"I  thank  your  Holiness.  If  I  have  done  wrong 
I  beg  Your  Holiness  to  pardon  me.  Evil  is  rife 
and  souls  go  to  perdition.  They  will  not  listen  to 
churchmen.  I  had  hoped  they  might,  perhaps, 
listen  to  me." 


13 


THE 


SIGN 


"The  hope  is  worthy  of  you,  Cinthius.  But 
yours,  I  need  not  remind  you,  is  a  different  task. 
Justice,  the  sword,  has  been  placed  in  your  hands. 
Watch  over  the  city,  hear  causes,  render  righteously 
to  every  man,  punish 
the  evil  doer — as  you 
have  power  to  do — I 
need  not  say  these 
things  to  you,  my 
Lord  Prefect,  you 
know  them  well;  but 
we  remind  you  that 
the  rendering  of  jus- 
tice is  a  sacred  action 
and  imitates  the 
divine  office  of  the 
Godhead." 

"I  am  not  worthy 
of  the  honor  Your 
Holiness  has  seen  fit 
to  put  upon  me  but  I 
will  fulfill  the  obliga- 
tions it  carries  with  it. 
This  very  day,  my 
Lord,  I  endeavored  to 
right  a  galling  wrong; 
and  yet  fear  that  I 
have  exasperated  one 
of  Your  Holiness's 
most  formidable 
enemies." 

"My  e  n  em  ie  s  , 
Cinthius,  are  as  the 
sands  of  the  sea.  For 
two  "years  now,  from 
the  day  it  pleased  God 
to  place  this  heavy 
burden  of  the  Papacy 
upon  us,  they  have 
been  active  in  their 
machinations.  More, 
we  have  been  con- 
tradicted and  mocked, 
even  as  Christ  was. 
What  enemy  is 
against  us  anew 
today?" 

"A  very  bitter  one,  my  Lord;  he  who  contended 
the  office  of  the  city  with  me  and  never  forgave 
Your  Holiness's  choice — Cencio." 

"Ah!"  one  of  those  lightnings  that  might  have 


Christmas  Carol 

J.  Corson  Miller 

As  Joseph  opened  wide  the  door, 

To  let  the  Shepherds  in; 

The  Ox  and  Ass  did  raise  their  heads, 

And  made  a  welcome-din. 

These  simple  folk  were  guests  the  night 

Of  little  Jesukin. 

The  wind  blew  hitter  chill;  the  Star 

Burned  brightly  overhead; 

The  Shepherds  sang  a  silver  song 

Before  his  stable-bed. 

Kind  folk,  let  songs  go  forth  this  night, 

And  let  the  Poor  be  fed! 

The  Mother  looked  upon  her  Child, 

And  held  Him  to  her  breast; 

Then  through  the  night  a  great  light  streamed 

North,  South,  and  East,  and  West. 

'T  v?as  Law  of  Love,  and  born  through  Christ 

A  Babe — for  earth's  distressed. 

The  Ox  and  Ass  did  keep  him  vJarm 

And  Joseph  watched  beside; 

His  bed  Was  laid  with  roughened  straw, 

But  He  v?as  satisfied. 

The  Poor,  the  Weak,  the  Halt,  the  Blind — 

Help  them  at  Christmastide! 

Make  ye  dear  songs  of  joy*  on  earth, 

This  night  that  He  was  born; 

With  every  brother's  hand-clasp  out 

To  brothers  all  forlorn. 

Then  shall  your  hearts  be  glad,  indeed, 

Come  merry"  Christmas-morn. 


been  anger,  repressed  as  swiftly  as  it  flashed,  or 
understanding  only,  lit  the  vivid  eyes  one  second. 
"Cencio,"  the  voice  said  quietly,  "your  enemy  and 
ours.    What  fresh  plot  has  he  trammeled  now?" 

"Holy  Father,  this 
morning  as  I  came 
from  the  Tomb  of  the 
Apostle,  the  street  on 
the  city  side  was 
crowded,  all  the  traffic 
held  up,  and  Cencio's 
ruffianly  soldiers,  with 
arms  in  their  hands, 
Eorbade  the  passage  of 
the  bridge  to  seven 
poor  pilgrims  who  had 
no  money  to  pay  the 
toll." 

eREGORY  start- 
ed so  violently 
in  his  chair  that 
it  was  pushed  back- 
ward. His  hand 
struck  the  arm  of  it. 
"An  outrage !  A  n 
abomination!  If  there 
is  one  road  in  this 
world  that  shall  be 
free,  free  to  every 
man  born  anywhere, 
free  to  every  comer 
from  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  earth,  it 
shall  be  the  road  to 
Blessed  Peter.  Why 
was  this  not  stopped, 
Sir  Prefect?  A  year 
ago  we  gave  orders 
that  this  disgrace  to 
Rome  should  cease." 

"He  was  arrested 
and  warned,  Your 
Holiness,  but  he  was 
bold,  knowing  his 
strength;  and,  sad  to 
say,  many  nobles  of 
the  city  who  are  doing 
the  same  thing  on  the  highroads  around  their  castles 
sided  with  him.  But  he  will  collect  no  more  tolls 
on  the  bridge  to  St.  Peter:  I  had  the  tower  torn 
down  this  day." 


THE  1*  SIGN 


"Good,  good!  Excellent.  ..  .the  only  way  to 
stop  it!  And  guard  the  bridge  now,  Cinthius.  Do 
not  let  him  return  to  it.     What  of  Cencio  himself?" 

"That  is  the  knot,  Your  Holiness.  I  had  him 
locked  in  the  Castle  until  I  could  learn  the  wishes 
of  Your  Holiness.  Unfortunately,  he  has  an  im- 
mense number  of  followers,  and  I  do  not  feel  that 
the  affair  is  ended." 

"There  will  be  fighting  in  the  streets,  and  others 
who  do  not  love  Gregory  will  rally  to  him  and 
sustain  him,  if  we  hold  him — . 

Yet  if  we  let  him  go  free,  he  will  but  stir  up 
more  hatred  against  Your  Holiness." 

"Magnanimity  becomes  the  high  office  of  the 
Bishop,  Cinthius;  and  we  have  ever  endeavored  to 
forgive,  for  the  love  of  Christ,  what  enmity  and  the 
ambitions  of  the  world  have  turbulently  raised 
against  us." 

"Am  I  then  to  release  him?" 

"Fine  him  as  a  just  punishment  and  a  caution 
to  him.  And  the  day  before  the  Vigil  of  Christmas, 
say  to  him  that  Gregory  desires  all  Christian  people 
to  be  glad  that  day,  and  to  celebrate  in  their  homes 
and  among  their  dear  ones,  the  sacred  rites  of  the 
Birth  of  Our  Saviour.  ..." 

Cinthius  looked  up,  wondering;  the  voice  had 
trailed  a  little  on  the  last  words,  and  the  dusk,  com- 
ing, robbed  him  of  the  expression  on  the  Pontiff's 
face.  But  he  saw  his  head  turned  to  one  side,  and 
followed  the  direction  of  the  glance  in  which  he 
had  grown  silent.  It  met  the  ivory  Figure  hanging 
upon  a  cross  on  the  wall. 


CHRISTMAS  Eve,  with  weird  pipings  of  moun- 
tain shepherds  in  the  streets;  with  piles  of 
honey-cakes  and  spice-bread  on  the  market 
stalls;  and  dancing  of  children,  in  artless  rythms 
of  gladness  before  the  brightly  illuminated  houses, 
for  that  Christ  the  Child  was  born. 

Strangely,  at  eventide  there  was  a  clap  of 
thunder;  most  strange  where  the  Christmas  nights 
are  a  marvel  of  clear  blue,  sprinkled  with  diamonds. 
Women  crossed  themselves,  and  drew  the  little  ones 
into  shelter,  with  some  unspoken  fear  of  a  portent 
of  evil.  Clouds  continued  to  gather,  and,  at  the  hour 
when  the  faithful  were  leaving  their  homes  to 
assist  at  the  Midnight  Office,  a  storm,  almost  a 
hurricane,  broke  loose  over  the  city. 

In  spite  of  the  beating  rain,  Gregory  came  in 


solemn  procession  to  the  Basilica  of  S.  Maria 
Maggiore,  for  the  festival  was  one  of  the  four  annual 
occasions  on  which  the  Pontiff  celebrated  Mass 
with  great  pomp  in  the  major  church  of  Our  Lady. 
All  had  been  prepared  for  the  celebration  of  the  Holy 
Sacrifice  at  the  altar  where  the  relics  of  the  Crib 
were  specially  venerated  that  day.  Many  lights,  and 
the  hanging  lamps  of  silver  before  the  shrine,  filled 
the  crypt  with  a  soft  radiance;  small  sprigs  of  box- 
wood and  laurel,  scattered  on  the  marble  floor  and 
trodden  by  the  feet  of  the  worshippers,  made  a 
faint,  garden-like  scent  in  the  mild  air;  the  splendid 
altar  vessels  of  gold,  and  the  pontifical  vestments 
of  dark  blue  velvet  embroidered  with  silver  thread 
and  adorned  with  the  image  of  the  Holy  Mother  of 
God  bearing  the  Divine  Child  in  her  arms,  lay  ready 
for  the  Pontiff's  use. 

The  basilica  itself  was  fairly  well  filled,  and  the 
disorder  of  the  elements  was  forgotten  in  the  solemn 
stillness,  the  deep,  sweet  joy  of  the  Christmas  Night. 
A  crash  of  thunder  burst  just  overhead  as  the  Pope 
stood  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  but  Gregory,  with 
folded  hands  and  living  eyes  upturned  to  the  "ever 
lasting  tabernacles,"  did  not  seem  to  hear  it.  The 
seven  great  white  candles,  borne  by  the  acolytes 
of  the  deacons  in  the  procession,  now  lighted  the 
table  and  the  Pontiff's  face.  Gravely  and  yet 
joyously,  his  voice  intoned  the  Gloria,  and  a  strong 
current  of  religious  emotion  ran  through  the  kneel- 
ing crowds  as  sweet-tongued  choristers  took  up  the 
full  volume  of  the  strain,  almost  like  those  angelical 
choirs  which  had  first  floated,  in  white  wreaths  of 
melody,  above  the  stable  roof. 

There  was  a  slight,  unaccountable  stir  among 
the  people  at  the  foot  of  the  stairways,  as  the 
Offerings  of  bread  and  wine  were  carried  into  the 
sanctuary.  And  some  turned  their  heads  involun- 
tarily, because  it  seemed  that  new,  unwelcome 
presences  had  somehow  stolen  into  the  midst  of 
those  who  prayed.  Yet  not  a  sound  was  heard. 
Gregory,  moving  as  it  were  in  a  cloud  of  gold,  and 
wholly  rapt  in  the  awe  of  the  Mysteries  he  was 
celebrating,  proceeded  with  the  Consecration.  As 
he  set  down  the  chalice,  a  rush  was  made  toward 
the  altar.  Women  screamed  without  understanding 
what  thing  had  happened.  The  stately  robed  figures 
around  the  sanctuary  flew  to  the  assistance  of  their 
Chief. 

Armed  bandits  had  seized  the  Pontiff,  torn  the 
sacred  ornaments  from  him,  and  enveloping  him  ir. 
a  cape  that  made  him  unrecognizable,  forced  him 


THE  *f  SIGN 


roughly  through  the  crowd  and  toward  the  door. 
His  own  attendants  struggled  to  hold  him  back,  and 
many  a  loyal  man  sprang  out  to  defend  the  Pope. 
The  greater  number  were  at  sea,  not  knowing  what 
thing  had  occurred. 

A  cry,  awe-striking  in  its  horror,  went  up: 
"Romans,  arm!  Arm!  The  Pope  is  being  taken!" 
....  Long  moans,  and  shouts  of  rage  responded. 
At  the  door,  men  had  drawn  their  swords,  even  in  the 
holy  place,  and  the  runners,  with  that  cloaked  bulk 
in  their  midst,  had  to  fight  their  way.  Steel  flashed, 
blade  struck  sharply  against  blade,  and  cries  of 
sudden  biting  pain  rang  out.  But  the  robbers 
reached  the  door.  In  the  confusion  inside  the  church, 
women  and  children  were  trampled,  and  men  fought 
one  another,  not  knowing  themselves  if  this  were 
friend  or  foe.  The  Pope  was  thrown  upon  a  waiting 
horse,  panting  men  mounted  around  him,  and  closed 
in  as  they  went,  and  at  a  mad  gallop  through  the 
wet  streets  and  the  storm,  the  cavalcade  headed 
westward. 

Those  who  had  horses,  noblemen  and  officials 
in  the  congregation,  flung  into  their  saddles  and 
started  in  pursuit.  As  the  first  group  raced  through 
the  Forum  of  Trajan,  and  past  the  historic  column, 
the  advanced  pursuers  drew  so  near  that  two  or 
three  of  the  pursued  turned  and  barred  the  way. 
The  others,  still  tearing  in  the  direction  of  the  Tiber, 
swerved  abruptly  south  in  the  Parrione  quarter,  and 
came  to  that  ancient,  hoary  palace,  fortified  like  a 
castle,  where  Cencio  and  his  clan  dwelt. 

Shouting  and  beating  the  great  portal,  one 
raucous  voice  was  lifted  above  the  others  to  cry: 
"Open,  dogs,  open!  Haste!  It  is  I,  your  Lord!" 
The  gates  flew  wide,  and  banged  again  heavily 
behind  the  riders.  "Secure  the  doors.  Make  a 
barricade.."  gasping,  "We  are  pursued". ..  .The 
man  was  no  longer  young  and  he  had  ridden  hard. 
But  he  tumbled  quickly  from  the  saddle  in  the 
inner  court,  where  his  ruffians  were  dragging  the 
half-smothered  Pontiff  from  his  mount. 

With  rude  hands  they  plucked  the  cloak  away, 
and  that  majestic  figure  stood  revealed,  his  white 
alb  making  the  figure  almost  luminous  in  the  dark. 
The  pallium  of  his  supreme  Bishopric  still  circled 
his  shoulders,  and  hung  down  in  one  long  band 
marked  with  black  crosses,  from  chest  to  knees. 
The  face  of  Gregory  was  inscrutable,  but  he  was  not 
afraid,  neither  was  he  intimidated.  Some  of  the 
men,  less  hardened  than  the  others,  saw  with  dread 


that,  from  a  wound  in  the  head,  blood  was  slowly 
trickling  and  stained  the  white  garment  on  the 
breast.     More  than  one  recoiled  at  the  sight. 

DOT  so  their  master.  Striding  forward,  with 
horrible  fury,  he  struck  the  Pontiff  full  in  the 
cheek.  "Ha,  Sir  Pope,  you  wished  that  I 
should  spend  Christmas  with  my  family?  Well, 
you  are  bidden,  too.  You  shall  keep  it  with  us,  far 
from  church  mummeries.  You  had  not  quite  finished 
your  Mass,  had  you?  Pity  we  should  have  had  to 
interrupt  you,  but  there  are  too  many  old  scores 
that  require  settling  between  us.  You  thought  you 
were  lord  of  Rome,  did  you  not?  Well  learn  now 
who  is  your  lord!" 

"Brutally,  and  with  concentrated  rage,  he  struck 
the  silent  Pontiff  again  and  again,  on  the  head,  on 
the  neck,  on  the  chest,  with  a  lust  of  fury.  And, 
as  if  this  were  not  enough,  women  added  their 
taunts  and  insults  to  the  violence  of  the  men.  Trip- 
ping down  from  their  quarters  in  gaudy  finery, 
Cencio's  sisters,  veritable  harpies,  shook  their 
hideous  shrivelled  fists,  and  hissed  out  their  in- 
vectives in  the  Pontiff's  face. 

"You  have  felled  our  tower,  have  you?  We, 
patricians  of  Rome,  are  to  be  beggared  to  please 
you!  Wait  and  see  what  Cencio  has  in  store  for 
you!  To  the  dungeon  with  him,  to  the  underground 
dungeon.  . .  .Cencio,  what  are  you  waiting  for?  He 
must  never  leave  this  house  alive." 

"Get  out,  you  hussies,  I  can  take  care  of  my 
own  affairs!  Here,  men,  bring  him  up.  I  want 
him  in  the  great  hall  for  trial.  He  shall  not  say 
he  has  not  had  a  fair  show!" 

A  dozen  of  them,  pushing,  pulling,  and  striking 
him  as  they  went,  ushered  the  prisoner  into  the  vast 
room,  on  the  upper  floor.  Gregory  had  not  spoken 
once;  only,  under  their  blows,  he  raised  his  eyes 
to  some  Presence  of  which  they  wot  not,  and  which 
to  him  was  near. 

"So!  You  do  not  choose  to  answer  me?  Per- 
haps we  can  find  the  means  of  coaxing  you  a  little .  . 
a  couple  of  turns  of  the  rope  might  help.  ..." 

Gregory  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  hall, 
white  in  face  and  in  vesture  under  the  fitful  light 
of  the  torches.  Cencio  took  one  step  toward  him: 
"Where  are  your  friends  now,  would-be  master  of 
Rome  ?  Why  don't  they  come  to  your  assistance  ? .  . 
You  low  monk  Hildebrand,  I  will  abase  you  so 
that " 


THE  1*  SIGN 


B  FLASH  of  lightning,  so  vivid  that  it  blinded 
him,  cut  the  unfinished  words.  Gregory 
lifted  his  head  high,  looking  out  through  the 
tall  windows,  heavenward.  It  was  as  though  he  had 
seen  or  heard  something.  Cencio  put  his  hand  over 
his  eyes,  while  the  thunder  crashed;  and,  as  he 
groped,  blind  indeed  for  the  moment,  and  moving 
his  arms  convulsively,  he  heard,  muffled  by  the 
storm  and  yet  ■  distinct,  a  bell  in  the  far  distance 
ring  the  tocsin. 

Another,  nearer,  answered  it  with  that  same 
short,  insistent,  distressful  note;  and  then  another, 
like  bronze  voices  lifted  in  alarm.  Cencio  cowered 
perceptibly.  Gregory  gave  no  sign,  but  he  too  had 
heard,  and  the  great  soul  in  him  struggled  with  the 
emotion  flooding  it.  The  Church  was  calling  for 
him! 

In  the  same  moment,  as  if  in  answer  to  the 
bells,  a  roar  went  up  beneath  the  palace  windows: 
"The  Pope !  Yield  up  the  Pope !...."  Cencio  reeled. 
The  eyes  of  Gregory  had  fixed  themselves  intently 
upon  him  and  seemed  to  pierce  him.  He  moved 
away,  and  looked  down  into  the  street.  Even  in  the 
darkness,  he  could  see  that  it  was  black  with  crowd- 
ing, swarming  humanity.  The  low,  ominous  mur- 
muring, heavy  with  anger  as  they  gathered,  was  like 
the  threat  of  a  stormy  sea.  The  narrow  street  was 
packed,  and  still  they  came  pouring;  and  once  more, 
and  with  increasing  volume,  the  shout  went  up : 
"Death  to  Cencio!  To  death  with  him!  We  want 
the  Pope!"  And  then  a  volley  of  cries  together: 
"Give  him  up!    Give  him  up!    We  want  the  Pope!" 

Cencio  gnashed  his  teeth  and  flung  out  of  the 
door.  Down  to  the  court  he  ran,  and  out  to  the 
gateway,  sword  in  hand :  "No  surrender,"  he  kept 
crying,  "no  surrender!  The  Pope  is  ours.  Just  hold 
the  doors." 

/f^VARALYZED  with  fear  at  what  might  be  hap- 
K^r  pening  to  their  Pastor  and  Father  behind 
those  dread,  impregnable  walls,  the  plebs, 
the  poor,  the  nameless  swarm  of  the  lowly,  pressed 
against  the  gates.  And  here  and  there,  mingled 
with  the  populace,  the  nobles  who  were  faithful 
threw  out  their  rally  cries :  "Gather,  gather !  Orsini ! 
Orsini  to  the  rescue!"  Answered  by:  "Colonna, 
Colonna,  Colonna!"  And  the  shout  of  the  ecclesi- 
astics: "Chiesa!  Chiesa!"  A  sudden  red  glow 
broke  out,  illuminating  all  the  walls,  and  the  crowd 
cheered:  "Fire!  Fire!  Burn  them  out!  Deliver 
our  Pope!" 


But  the  brave  blaze  died  in  wet  wood  and 
smoke.  Then  beams  were  brought,  and  the  besieged 
heard  the  dull,  ominous  thuds  of  battering  at  the 
gates.  Those  great  portals  of  solid  oak  and  iron 
would  hold  out  a  while — but  how  long?  Archers 
manned  the  ramparts  and  began  to  shoot  down 
arrows  into  the  crowd,  but  there  was  no  moving 
it;  a  few  cries,  a  few  imprecations;  but  that  relent- 
less pound,  pound  upon  the  doors  did  not  cease  for 
one  moment,  and  a  preliminary  crash  foretold  the 
end. 

Cencio  ran  hither  and  thither,  his  hands  trem- 
bling, his  mind  a  blank.  Should  he  kill  him? 
Would  it  be  best  to  kill  him,  or  to  use  him  as  a 
shield?  Some  fear  he  could  not  account  for,  or 
master,  kept  him  from  the  presence  of  his  victim. 
The  guards  still  stood  at  the  doors  of  the  great  hall. 
Gregory,  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion  and  turmoil, 
was  silently  praying.  He  heard  the  battering  rams : 
it  meant  the  end  for  him,  too — they  would  never 
yield  him  up  alive! 

And  suddenly,  with  a  crash  of  rent,  splintering 
wood,  a  terrific  roar  from  the  multitude,  the  gates 
gave  and  the  mob  poured  in,  clambering  over  the 
barricade,  beating  down  the  soldiers  and  henchmen, 
filling  the  castle  like  a  flood. 

Cencio  fled  up  the  stairs,  to  the  hall  which  his 
mercenaries  had  deserted,  and  fell  prostrate  at  the 
Pontiff's  feet:  "Save  me,  pardon  me.  .have  pity.  . 
they  will  kill  me".  . .  . 

"Gregory  pardons;  but  you  will  go  to  the  spot 
where  Christ  was  struck  and  buffeted  to  implore 
His  pardon  there".  .  .  . 

HIKE  a  torrent,  and  with  cries  that  rang  to  the 
very  rafters  "The  Pope!  Where  is  the 
Pope?"  the  human  tide  swirled  in.  At  their 
head  Cinthius,  the  blade  of  his  sword  bent  and 
stained.  When  he  saw  the  Pontiff,  a  sob  broke 
from  him,  and  the  tears  ran  down  his  face:  "Thank 
God!  Thank  God!"  With  shouts  of  joy  the  people 
threw  themselves  down  and  kissed  the  sandaled 
feet,  the  hands,  the  garments,  as  though  they  could 
never  tear  themselves  away  from  him  again.  It 
was  Cinthius  who  recognized  the  figure  crouching 
in  the  shadow  behind  Gregory,  and  he  endeavored 
to  pull  him  forth,  none  too  gently.  Gregory  stretch- 
ed his  arm  over  the  miserable  coward :  "Do  not 
touch  him,  Cinthius.  The  presence  of  the  Pope  is 
sanctuary.     He  will  go  to  Jerusalem."    The  people 


THE  +  SIGN 


recognized  him  then,  too,  and  yelled:  "Kill  him! 
Kill  him!  Rid  the  earth  of  the  scoundrel!" — "Nay," 
Gregory  answered,  "nay,  good  folks;  God  wills 
that  the  sinner  should  repent  and  live . . .  Who  will 
find  us  a  horse  that  we  may  go  back  to  S.  Maria 
Maggiore  and  finish  our  Christmas  Mass?"  Like 
children  they  went,  happy,  eager,  every  man  deter- 
mined to  bring  the  horse  for  the  Pope. 

Cinthius,  with  mute  horror,  was  gazing  at  the 
Pontiff's  torn  vesture,  the  bruises  upon  his  face, 
those  dark,  tell-tale  stains  upon  the  breast  of  the 
alb.  He  knelt  down  before  him,  too  overcome  to 
speak  his  sorrow,  and  the  great  tears  ran  down  his 
cheeks  again.  Gregory  laid  a  gentle  hand  upon  the 
stooping  shoulder :  "Cinthius,  with  the  help  of  God, 
let  us  so  raise  up  the  Throne  of  Peter  that  scenes 
like  the  scenes  of  this  night  may  never  be  repeated 
in  our  city  of  Rome  again." — "God  be  with  Your 
Holiness,  my  Lord  Pope,  and  crush  His  enemies  and 
yours  beneath  your  feet." 

"Come,  let  us  go.  The  night  is  almost  over. 
Christmas,  oh,  my  God!.  ..  .Christmas".  ..  .  He 
turned  and  motioned  Cencio  to  follow  him ;  Cinthius 
surprised  the  expression  on  the  guilty  man's  face: 
"My  Lord,  I  beseech  Your  Holiness,  let  him  remain." 

Gregory  bowed  his  head  and  passed  on. 

Not  one  horse  but  a  dozen  were  in  waiting; 
the  court  was  filled  with  torches  moving  as  the 
crowd  made  ready  to  escort  the  Pontiff;  the  air 
was  murmurous  with  happy  voices  lowered  through 
reverence,  and  yet  ready,  on  the  smallest  provoca- 
tion, to  burst  out  into  cheers.  Ecclesiastics  and 
acolytes  who  had  followed  from  S.  Maria  on  foot 
and  mingled  with  men-at-arms  in  the  storming  of 
the  fortress,  gathered  around  their  Bishop,  and 
Gregory  perceived  how  all  the  best  blood  in  Rome 


drew  in  a  close  ring  around  him:  there  were  to  be 
more  surprises! 

As  he  attempted  to  mount,  there  was  indeed  a 
rush  in  his  direction,  held  strongly  back  by  the  self- 
constituted  guard  around  him,  but  it  came  from  his 
lowly  saviors,  the  rank  and  file  of  the  people  of 
Rome.  Gregory  raised  his  hand  to  stop  their  accla- 
mations, and,  instinctively,  the  action  changed  to  a 
blessing.  He  smiled  at  the  young  man  who  bent 
the  knee,  and  his  fair  proud  head,  to  hold  the 
Pontiff's   stirrup.     "Ah,  Gelasius". . .  . 

So  they  brought  him  back  in  triumph  to  Santa 
Maria  Maggiore.  At  the  door  they  flung  down  their 
cloaks  that  he  might  walk  upon  them.  There  was 
a  hush,  solemn  as  death,  when  he  stood  again  before 
that  altar  from  which  he  had  been  torn,  and  then  a 
soft  sound  of  women  weeping  in  the  distance. 

Pallid  and  with  sunken  eyes,  but  with  that  same 
unquenchable  brightness  of  the  glance,  Gregory 
folded  his  hands  and  ascended  unassisted  to  the 
altar.  One  moment  he  stood  with  humbly  bowed 
head  before  the  Cross,  then  turned  to  the  Missal 
where  it  lay  open,  as  he  had  left  it,  and  completed 
the  Canon.  Presently  his  clear  voice,  not  very 
strong  but  full  of  an  exalted  faith,  intoned:  "Pater 
Noster  qui  es  in  coelis".  . .  . 

At  the  Communion  he  returned  to  the  Pontifical 
Throne  and  the  assistants  brought  him  the  Sacred 
Cup  and  Bread. 

So  Pope  Gregory  finished  his  Midnight  Mass 
in  the  Basilica  of  Our  Lady.  As  he  did,  the  first 
light,  dim  still  and  faint,  struggled  in  through  the 
clerestory  windows.  Outside,  over  the  blue  Alban 
hills  the  day  was  breaking  in  cloudless  splendor 
after  the  hurricane,  and  Rome  awakened,  a  new 
Rome  as  it  were,  to  the  rutilant  joy  of  Christmas 
morning. 


Motker  of  Christ 

Placidus  M.  Endler 
She  hungered"  for  the  heights  above, 

The  Highest  heard  her  longing  love; 
But  Heaven  unwilling  vJould  not  wait, 

And  hastened  to  anticipate. 


Current   Fact   and   Comment 


O1 


ST.   PAUL  ON 

HE  public  eye  is  focussed  on  one  spot  these 
days, — and  that  spot  is  Washington,  D.  C, 
where  the  nations  are  met  to  discuss  the  prac- 
ticability of  disarmament,  and  the  public  ear  is 
strained  in  that  direction  to  catch  the  news  of  any 
real  decisions  which  will  have  a  real  effect  in  pre- 
venting real  wars.  All  affect  on  admiration  for 
disarmament,  but  nobody  likes  to  disarm. 

While  it  is  the  sincere  wish  of  every  humane 
person  that  war  and  its  attendant  horrors  be  pre- 
vented in  the  future  by  a  holiday  of  disarmament, 
there  is  one  kind  of  warfare  which,  instead  of  admit- 
ting reduction  of  the  weapons  of  war,  rather  lays 
down  as  a  first  principle  their  absolute  necessity, 
and,  moreover,  commands  their  constant  use.  That 
warfare  is  the  world-old  conflict  between  the  individ- 
ual soul  and  the  powers  of  darkness.  St.  Paul,  the 
accredited  representative  of  the  Prince  of  True 
Peace,  writing  to  the  first  Christian  soldiers  at 
Ephesus,  tells  them  not  to  disarm, — not  so  much  as 
entertain  the  thought.  No  reduction  of  war  strength 
for  Paul.  He,  rather,  tells  those  Christians  to  put 
on  more  armor,  to  be  covered  with  it  from  head  to 
foot,  for  their  fighting  was  not  against  flesh  and 
blood.  No !  Their  battling  was  with  "principalities 
and  powers,  against  the  rulers  of  the  world  of  this 


DISARMAMENT 

darkness,  against  the  spirits  of  wickedness  in  high 
places."  And  in  order  to  prepare  for  an  attack  at 
any  moment  from  these  formidable  and  unseen 
enemies,  they  must  have  their  loins  girt  about  with 
truth,  have  on  the  breast  plate  of  justice,  have  their 
feet  shod  with  the  preparation  of  the  gospel  of 
peace,  on  their  head  the  helmet  of  salvation,  one  arm 
holding  the  shield  of  faith,  while  the  other  is  ready 
to  strike  with  the  sword  of  the  spirit. 

Diplomats  may  continue  to  speak  honeyed 
words;  covenants  may  be  entered  into,  circuitously 
arrived  at;  armaments  may  really  be  reduced  (per- 
haps), and,  in  the  end,  we  hope  that  war  will  be  no 
more.  One  thing  however,  we  are  certain  of,  War 
with  capital  ships,  submarines,  machine-guns  and 
poison  gas  may  know  a  lull  on  account  of  disarma- 
ment, but  the  war  that  St.  Paul  speaks  of  shall  never 
cease.  There  can  be  no  parley,  no  covenant,  no 
truce  with  the  enemy.  Arms  must  be  increased  rather 
than  reduced,  for  our  enemies  are  powerful  and  we 
are  weak.  They — the  wicked  spirits — are  always 
our  enemies; — never  more  so  than  when  they  seem 
friends. 

Therefore,  be  armed,  be  strongly  armed,  be 
completely  armed,  for  in  this  war  there  can  be  no 
truce — only  victory. 


ANOTHER  ASPECT 

gPASSIONIST  Father  who  has  recently  been 
conducting  a  series  of  missions  in  the  South 
writes  us  the  following  interesting  and  hope- 
ful account  of  his  impressions,  which  well  deserves 
to  be  quoted  at  length. 

"Frequent  and  recent  outbursts  of  bigotry  and 
outrages  against  Catholics  in  Georgia  may  mislead 
those  who  do  not  know  our  southern  states,  and 
make  them  judge  other  states  by  what  they  hear  and 
read  of  Georgia.  Most  of  the  southern  states  are 
very  predominantly  Protestant,  but  few  are  so  pre- 
dominantly bigoted  as  the  state  represented  by  Mr. 
Watson.  Some  missions  this  year  among  Catholics 
and  Non-Catholics  in  North  Carolina  gave  me  my 
first  experience  in  the  South,  and  revealed  to  me  a 
better  class  of  Protestants.  That  state,  with  a  popu- 
lation of  2,500,000  of  whom  only  8,000  are  Catholics, 
is  both  the  most  Protestant  and  the  most  tolerant  of 
the  southern  Protestant  states. 


OF  THE   SOUTH 

"A  strong  spirit  of  Methodism,  Freemasonry 
and  human  respect  blinds  many  to  the  claims  of  the 
Catholic  Church,  or  keeps  them  out  when  convinced 
of  those  claims;  but  it  does  not  tolerate  bitter 
bigotry.  Cardinal  Gibbons,  who  was  once  Vicar- 
Apostolic  in  North  Carolina,  did  much  by  his  noble 
priestly  life,  public  spirit,  and  sermons  to  foster  that 
spirit  of  tolerance.  He  died  whilst  I  was  giving 
missions  there,  and  I  was  much  impressed  by  the 
manner  in  which  Protestants  read  the  papers  to  get 
news  of  his  death  and  burial.  Many  of  them  went 
to  Baltimore  to  pay  their  respects  to  his  dead  body, 
and  on  their  return  eagerly  told  their  friends  of  what 
they  had  seen  at  his  obsequies. 

"A  proof  of  the  great  difference  between 
Georgia  and  North  Carolina  was  given  at  Durham 
some  years  ago.  That  town  including  East  and  West 
Durham  has  a  population  of  over  30,000  with  about 
120  Catholics.     At  the  time  mentioned  Mr.  Ham,  a 


THE  +  SIGN 


bigoted  Protestant  minister  from  Georgia,  gave  a 
mission  for  the  Rev.  Mr.  Smith  in  his  Baptist  Church. 
During  the  mission  he  made  the  usual  vile  and  bitter 
charges  against  the  Catholic  Church,  priests,  and 
nuns.  The  local  Protestant  papers  published  Mr. 
Ham's  sermons,  but  they  also  gave  Father  O'Brien, 
the  local  priest,  an  opportunity  to  refute  the  slan- 
derer. The  sympathy  of  the  town  was  with  Fr. 
O'Brien  and  against  the  parson  from  Georgia.  His 
stay  was  shortened,  and  his  mission  went  far  beyond 
his  intentions.  Two  sons  of  Mr.  Smith,  who  were 
going  to  finish  their  education  at  Philadelphia, 
questioned  Mr.  Ham  about  the  charges  he  had  made 
against  Catholics.  He  told  them  that  a  little  experi- 
ence among  the  Catholics  of  Philadelphia  would 
soon  convince  them  of  the  truth.  They  became 
acquainted  with  Catholics  in  that  city,  and  were  in- 


deed soon  convinced  of  the  truth, — a  truth  that 
proved  the  falsehood  of  the  bigoted  parson,  and 
led  them  both  into  the  Catholic  Church." 

The  above  will  help  to  correct  a  false  idea  too 
commonly  entertained  by  persons  ill-acquainted  with 
the  facts.  Bigotry  and  the  South  are  not  synonim- 
ous  terms.  Every  state  below  the  Mason-Dixon  line 
is  not  to  be  classed  with  Georgia  and  Alabama. 
These  two  states  may  be  the  noisiest,  they  may  beat 
loudest  on  their  tom-toms  of  intolerance  so  that  their 
sound  goes  forth  to  the  farthest  ends  of  the  nation, 
but  they  do  not  represent — for  which  may  God  be 
praised! — the  widest  sentiment  of  the  South.  Too 
often  is  it  the  black  side  of  the  Southern  shield 
which  is  held  up  to  view,  but  we  ought  not  to  forget 
that  there  is  yet  another  side,  a  side  which  reflects 
what  is  best  and  noblest  in  our  Republic. 


TERCENTENARY   OF   JOHN    BERCHMANS 


^^^HIS  year  marks  the  Tercentenary  of  the  death 

V^  J  of  Saint  John  Berchmans.    The  event  is  one 

of  interest  to  the  whole  Catholic  world. 

A  glory  to  God,  a  glory  to  Christ,  and  a  glory 
to  his  Society,  the  ife  of  this  Servant  of  God,  is  a 
wonderful  inspiration  to  every  Catholic,  particularly 
to  our  Catholic  youth. 

John  Berchmans  was  born  at  Diest,  March  13, 
1599.  His  parents  were  humble,  poor,  and  God- 
fearing. From  his  tenderest  years,  they  impressed 
upon  the  child's  mind  and  heart  the  simple  lesson 
of  holy  religion.  These  impressions  were  deep  and 
lasting. 

At  school,  John  showed  uncommon  talent.  But 
his  religious  progress  always  ran  far  in  advance  of 
secular  knowledge. 

Called  to  the  religious  state,  he  entered  the 
Society  of  Jesus.  As  a  novice  and  student,  no  singu- 
larity of  conduct  distinguished  him  from  his  fel- 
lows. He  walked  the  common  ordinary  paths. 
His  contemporaries  esteemed  him  just  a  good  faith- 
ful religious. 

So  he  lived,  faithful  to  routine  duties  until  in 
his  twenty-second  year,  he  was  called  to  his  reward. 
Short  was  the  span  of  his  years;  but  before  heaven, 
long  were  they  in  grace  and  merit.. 

This  is  the  career  which  occasions  a  world  wide 
commemoration.     It  offers  a  practical  lesson  to  all. 

Like  John  Berchmans,  every  Christian  is  called 
to  be  a  saint.  In  the  mad  rush  of  the  modern  world, 
this  fundamental  truth  is  lost  sight  of.     The  false 


notion  is  abroad  that  sanctity  is  only  for  the  religious 
and  the  priest; — a  thing,  whose  home  is  in  the 
cloister  and  not  in  the  world..  Nothing  better  illus- 
trates the  tenor  of  the  day. 

Still,  sanctity  is  as  much  a  duty  as  patriotism. 
"This  is  the  will  of  God,  your  sanctification," 
declares  Saint  Paul,  and  thus  he  addresses  himself 
to  his  converts,  "To  all.... the  beloved  of  God, 
called  to  the  saints." 

The  life  of  John  Berchmans  demonstrates  how 
practical  saintliness  is  in  the  every  day  life  of  the 
Christian. 

In  vain,  do  we  look  in  that  life  for  ectasies, 
miracles,  or  other  startling  manifestations  of  divine 
omnipotence.  There  are  no  heroic  actions,  in  the 
ordinary  sense  of  the  word;  no  frightful  austerities, 
inspired  by  the  holy  follies  of  penance;  no  great 
works  of  the  apostolate.  His  life  ran  on  in  the.  com- 
mon course  of  ordinary  mortals. 

The  secret  of  his  saintliness  lies  in  this,  that 
he  was  a  clever  spiritual  financier.  He  learned  how 
to  get  rich  quick.  He  saw  his  opportunities.  He 
grasped  them.  Like  Midas,  everything,  at  his  touch, 
turned  into  gold,  not  the  corruptible  gold  of  this 
world,  but  the  incorruptible  gold  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven.  To  him,  even  the  least  of  his  thousands 
of  little  every-day  duties,  was  an  opportunity  of 
amassing  new  wealth.  In  a  short  time,  he  became 
a  spiritual  millionaire. 

He  took  Saint  Paul  at  his  word,  "Whatsoever 


THE  f  SIGN 


you  do,  do  it  from  your  heart,  as  to  the  Lord,  and 
not  to  men;  all  whatsoever  you  do  in  word  or  work, 
do  all  in  the  Name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  whether 
you  eat  or  drink,  or  whatsoever  else  you  do,  do  all 
to  the  glory  of  God." 


Here  is  the  lesson  of  his  life.  God,  Whose 
glory  John  Berchmans  constantly  sought  in  all  that 
he  did,  drew  aside  the  veil,  and  revealed  him  to  us, 
clothed  in  everlasting  glory — to  be  our  model  and 
inspiration. 


CHRISTMAS   AND   THE  WORLD   PROBLEM 


XN  our  busy,  selfish,  material,  and  commer- 
cial world,  Christmas  day  comes  as  a  bright 

spot  in  an  otherwise  dreary  landscape.  Admist 
the  grinding,  selfish  struggle  for  advantage,  "good- 
will" reigns  supreme.  The  brief  change  is  a 
refreshing  tonic.  Few  can  be  insensible  to  the 
emotions  this  most  appealing  of  all  Christian  festi- 
vals inspires.  The  day  brings  its  memories  of 
childish  hopes  and  dreams;  its  simple  decorations 
of  holly  and  ivy  and  mistletoe,  the  fragant  boughs 
of  the  pine  woods,  bright  with  tinsel  and  many 
colored  lights  the  homely  gathering  together  of  the 
family  around  the  fireside  hearth;  the  scattering  of 
good  cheer,  the  special  thoughtfulness  for  the  poor; 
the  exchange  of  Christmas  greetings  and  gifts; — 
in  a  word,  the  day,  with  all  its  hallowed  associations, 
makes  us  forget,  for  the  nonce,  the  vexing  and 
sordid  cares  of  every  day  life.  The  world  would 
be  a  much  drearier  place  than  it  is  if  it  were  not 
for  the  annual  visit  of  the  Infant  Saviour.  The 
cheery  greeting  of  "Merry  Christmas,"  goes  a  great 
way  to  heartening  us  for  the  unknown  vicissitudes 
of  another  year. 

If  we  seek  the  reason  of  the  peculiar  fascination 
this  most  beautiful  ,of  all  Christmas  festivals  exerts 
over  us,  we  will  find  it  in  a  very  elementary  fact  in 


tnAR 


FOCH   THE 

[ARSHAL  FOCH,  Generalissimo  of  the  Allied 
irmies  in  the  World  War,  has  visited  the 
United  States.  His  tour  of  the  United  States 
has  been  a  continual  triumph  such  as  no  conqueror 
in  the  heyday  of  Roman  might  ever  surpassed.  The 
acclamation  has  been  spontaneous  and  unlimited. 
Universities,  civil  organizations,  patriotic  societies, 
labor  unions,  religious  bodies  have  all  vied  with  one 
another  in  showering  honors,  complimentary  mem- 
berships, golden  keys,  substantial  gifts  on  the  man 
who  has  taken  a  place  in  the  imagination  of  the 
American  people  equal  to  that  of  his  brother  in 
arms,  Lafayette. 

Marshal  Foch  is  a  distinguished  soldier,  the 
profoundest  strategist  of  his  time.  His  niche  in 
the  annals  of  fame  will  be  with  the  world's  great 
commanders.     The  Marshal  is  more  than  a  soldier. 


human  nature.  The  appeal  of  innocent  childhood 
is  one  against  which  the  human  heart  can  never 
successfully  steel  itself.  The  hard  knocks  of  life, 
and  contact  with  an  unfeeling  world,  may  sear  and 
callous  the  heart,  and  put  the  sneer  of  cynicism  on 
the  lip,  and  the  scowl  of  sulleness  on  the  brow, — but 
the  callousness  and  the  cynicism  and  the  scowl  will 
melt  away,  before  the  smile  in  the  eye  of  an  innocent 
babe.  For  these  little  ones  have  a  way  of  their  own 
of  stealing  into  our  hearts.  Christ  manifested  His 
infinite  wisdom  in  a  most  unexpected  manner  when 
He  came  as  a  helpless  child. 

It  is  a  sad  day  for  any  man  when  he  is  not 
moved  by  the  tenderness  of  Christ's  cradle.  There 
are  those  who  do  not  experience  the  blessed  peace 
Christmas  day  brings — because  there  is  no  room 
for  Christ  in  their  lives  any  more  than  there  was 
room  for  Him  in  the  inn.  The  world  at  large  is  torn 
by  strife  and  unrest  and  disorder  because  it  has  cast 
Christ  out  of  its  life.  Nations  know  not  peace  be- 
cause they  have  closed  their  doors  against  Him  who 
from  His  humble  manger  preaches  the  emptiness  and 
worthlessness  of  mere  worldly  glory  and  ambition, 
because  rulers  and  statesmen  have  no  room  for  Christ 
in  their  deliberations  of  schemes  of  government. 

CATHOLIC 

He  is  a  practical  and  devoted  son  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  Even  when  the  colossal  responsibilities  of 
his  exalted  office  weighed  heaviest  upon  him  he 
could  yet  find  time  each  day  to  spend  an  hour  at 
prayer.  Marshal  Foch  is  a  worthy  successor  of  the 
warrior  saint  of  France,  Louis  IX. 

No  other  foreign  dignitary  who  has  visited 
America  since  the  close  of  hostilities  has  received 
a  reception  like  to  that  tendered  the  Allied  Gene- 
ralissimo, with  the  one  exception  of  Cardinal  Mer- 
cier,  whose  coming  to  American  shores  was  a  na- 
tional event  of  lasting  significance. 

It  is  something  for  Catholics  to  remember  and 
in  this  remembrance  be  proud,  that  these  two  tower- 
ing personalities  in  the  world's  greatest  cataclysm 
were  members  of  the  One,  True,  Holy  and  Apostolic 
Catholic  Church. 


21 


Tke   Union  Jack  Afloat   Over  Sion 

Tke  Politico-Religious  Status  of  Palestine 
The  Very  Rev.  Cyprian  Jourdin,  C.  P.,    St.  Martha's  Retreat,  Bethany,  Palestine. 


eREAT  was  the  joy  of  the  Christian  world 
at  the  announcement  that  Jerusalem  was 
free.  The  victory  which  liberated  the  Holy 
City  from  Turkish  dominion  came  as  a  ray 
of  sunshine  in  the  midst  of  the  gloomy  winter  of 
1917,  a  winter  especially  gloomy  for  the  people 
of  Palestine  who  had  experienced  for  three  long 
years  all  the  miseries  of  war.  Yet  these  same 
people  who  knew  better  than  anyone  else  the  true 
state  of  affairs  in  Palestine,  felt  a  sense  of  uneasi- 
ness at  the  terms  of  the  British  manifesto,  in  which 
Mr.  Balfour,  on  November  2,  1917,  promised  that 
Palestine  was  to  be  a  national  hearth  to  all  Jews. 
This  promise  of  the  Modern  Moses,  prostrate  before 
the  golden  calf,  was  the  beginning  of  that  extra- 
ordinary movement  which,  has  drawn  to  Jerusalem 
from  all  quarters  of  the  globe  a  motley  gathering 
of  most  undesirable  elements.  This  imported  popu- 
lation is  already  a  grave  menace  to  the  future  peace 
of  the  Holy  City. 

Passing  over  the  supposed  necessity  compelling 
England  to  assume  the  protectorate  of  Palestine,  the 
traditional  liberality  of  British  administration  (out- 
side of  Ireland)  gave  promise  that  a  wise  and  con- 
ciliatory government  would  be  assured  to  the  Holy 
Land,  and,  likewise,  that  the  communities  long 
established  in  Judea  would  be  confirmed  in  the 
peaceful  enjoyment  of  their  acquired  rights,  tradi- 
tions and  customs.  Before  the  war  Christian, 
Mussulman  and  Jew  had  finally  come  to  accomodate 
themselves  to  Turkish  rule.  No  one  imagined  that 
the  English  could  be  less  tolerant,  still  less  that 
their  victory,  which  was  in  fact  an  Allied  victory, 
would  inaugurate  an  era  of  anxious  unrest.  Yet, 
it  is  not  without  reason  that  Our  Holy  Father,  the 
Pope,  and  with  him  all  right-minded  Christians, 
demand  to  know  if  Jerusalem  has  been  snatched 
from  Turkish  domination  only  to  fall  under  the 
galling  yoke  of  provoking  and  aggressive  Judaism 
championed  by  Great  Britain. 

At  the  close  of  hostilities  the  Allies,  conforming 
to  one  of  Mr.  Wilson's  Fourteen  Points,  acknow- 
ledged the  right  of  small  nations  to  determine  their 
own  form  of  government.  An  American  Commission 
was  sent  to  the  Near  East  to  ascertain  the  wishes 
of  the  people.    All  declared  in  favor  of  a  national 


government.  But  the  Statesmen  at  Versailles  seem 
to  have  had  other  designs;  they  created  for  the 
case  the  new  system  of  Mandates. 

Q  Mandate  as  understood  in  Article  22  of  the 
pact  of  the  League  of  Nations,  recognizes 
certain  rights  of  small  nations.  These  rights 
are  divided  into  three  classes  following  the  degree 
of  civilization  and  capacity  for  self-government  of 
each  nation.  The  nations  of  the  first  class  are  entitl- 
ed to  an  autonomous  government.  The  Mandatary 
Power  proffer  helpful  counsel  and  protection.  Man- 
dates of  the  second  class  give  to  the  Mandatary 
Power  the  right  to  interfere  in  the  internal  adminis- 
tration of  the  nation  subject  to  the  Mandate.  The 
Mandates  of  the  third  class  go  much  further,  their 
effect  is  little  short  of  annexation. 

The  Mandate  for  Palestine  which  Turkey  re- 
nounced in  favor  of  the  principal  Allied  Powers 
according  to  the  tenor  of  article  132  of  the  treaty 
signed  at  Sevres  on  August  10,  1920,  has  been 
conferred  on  Great  Britain  by  Article  95  of  the 
same  treaty. 

In  what  class  of  Mandate  does  Palestine  find 
herself?  The  Mandate  itself  is  silent  on  this  point. 
But  the  terms  of  the  Mandate  and  their  application, 
show  but  too  clearly,  that  the  Palestinians  have 
been  radically  excluded  from  the  first  and  second 
class  only  to  be  put  in  the  third  class. 

In  effect  the  Mandate  after  having  inserted  in 
its  preamble  "that  the  Mandatary  shall  be  responsi- 
ble for  the  execution  of  the  declaration  made  on 
November  2,  1917,  by  the  British  Government  in 
favor  of  establishing  in  Palestine  a  national  home 
for  the  Jews,  stipulates  in  the  first  article  that  His 
Britanic  Majesty  shall  have  the  right  as  Mandatary 
to  exercise  in  Palestine  all  the  powers  of  a  sovereign 
state. 

^^=^HE  exercise  of  this  sovereignty  is  along  the 
L^  line  marked  out  in  articles  2,  3,  4,  6,  7,  11  of 
the  Mandate.  These  articles,  which  are  silent 
on  the  participation  of  the  natives  in  the  government 
of  the  country,  make  provision  for  the  organizing 
in  the  country  of  a  political  regime,  administrative 
as  well  as  economical,  which  will  render  possible  the 
establishment  of  a  national  home  for  the  Jews. 
(Art.  2). 


THE  +  SIGN 


A  Jewish  Bureau  shall  be  established,  consti- 
tuted for  the  purpose  of  aiding  the  administration  of 
Palestine.  The  Bureau  shall  be  Zionist  in  organi- 
zation as  long  as  the  Mandatory  shall  think  its 
functions  and  its  constitution  conduce  to  the  desired 
end.     (Art.  4). 

The  Administration  of  Palestine  shall  be  bound 
to  faciliate  Jewish  immigration  by  holding  out  com- 
paratively      easy 


but  Palestine  is  for  all  practical  purposes  already 
a  Jewish  state  under  the  sovereignty  of  England. 


terms,  and  shall 
be  bound  also  to 
encourage  inten- 
sive colonization 
of  the  country 
by  Jews,  and  this 
to  be  especially 
applied  to  those 
lands  belonging  to 
the  state  and  also 
to  the  uninhabited 
districts  which  are 
of  no  present 
public  value. 
(Art.  6).  To  this 
end  a  law  regard- 
ing nationaliza- 
tion shall  be 
drawn  up  to  facili- 
tate the  attain- 
ment of  citizen- 
ship by  such  Jews 
as  intend  to  make 
Palestine  their 
permanent  home. 
(Art.  7).  All 
these  articles,  not- 
withstanding the 
constant  reitera- 
tion that  the  civil 
and  religious 
rights   of   all   the 

inhabitants  without  distinction  of  race  or  religion 
shall  be  safeguarded,  treat  the  native  Arabs  as 
enemies  and  Palestine  as  a  conquered  land.  This 
is  purely  and  simply  an  overt  seizure  of  Palestine 
by  the  Jews.  England  by  virtue  of  her  mandatary 
rights  is  handing  over  to  the  Jews  a  country  to  which 
they  have  no  right. 

Not  only  is  every  inducement  offered  to  those 
Jews  who  wish  to  establish  themslves  in  Palestine, 


The  Governor,  Sir  Herbert  Samuel,  is  an  Israelite. 
He  has  established  his  office  of  administration  in 
view  of  the  Holy  City  on  the  Mount  of  Olives  in 
the  ancient  convent  known  as  "Victoria,"  formerly 
the  abode  of  the  German  Protestant  Deaconesses. 

In  the  Governing  Council,  the  more  important 

offices  are  held  by  Jews.     Saturday  is  become  the 

official  day  of  rest,  and  a  Hebrew  dialect  called  "Yddasch" 

is,  together  with  English  and  Abrabian,  the  language  of  the 

courts  and  of  official  acts. 

The  Mandatary  Power  endeavors  to  justify  this  pre- 
eminence given  to  the  Jews  by  avowing  that  they  constitute 
the  native  population  of  the  land  and  that  to  establish  for 
them  a  national  home  is  but  remaining  faithful  to  one  of  Mr. 
Wilson's  Fourteen  Points. 

If  such  be  the  case,  the    application    of    the    principle, 

'that  small  na- 
tions have  the 
right  to  determine 
their  own  form  of 
government,"  is  a 
farce.  The  Jewish 
element  in  Pales- 
tine is  but  a  very 
small  minority 
and  .  hardly  sur- 
passes the  number 
of  Christians.  The 
great  majority  of 
the  population  is 
of  Arabian  ex- 
traction. The 
total  population  of 
Palestine  is  about 
700,000;  100,000 
are  Jews;  100,000 
are  Christians ; 
&  Underwood                                                                                      the  remaining 

CITADEL  OF  SION  AND  THE  JOFFA  GATE  mm  afe  Arabs 

Then  too,  it  must  further  be  noted  that  the  greater 
part  of  this  one  hundred  thousand  Jews  is  not  native. 
It  is  made  up  of  immigrants  which  Jewish  enterprise 
has  brought  to  the  farming  sections  of  Palestine  or 
to  the  Holy  City  itself.  The  Jews  who  are  today 
invading  the  country  come  from  the  Ghettos  of  the 
entire  world.  They  are  so  far  from  being  Palestin- 
ians that  their  native  co-religionists  consider  them 
as  strangers  and  are  but  half-heartedly  concerned 
at  their  arrival. 
23 


THE  +  SIGN 


ON  the  other  hand,  the  Arabs  and  Christians 
form  the  overwhelming  majority  of  the  popu- 
lation. In  order  to  rob  these  of  their  rights, 
history  is  made  to  bear  false  witness.  Some  pre- 
tend that  the  successors  of  Mohammed  took  posses- 
sion of  Palestine  unlawfully  in  the  seventh  century 
and  consequently  that  the  present  occupation  is  but 
a  usurpation.  What  a  puerile  contention!  If  the 
world  must  go  back  to  the  state  in  which  it  was 
thirteen  centuries  ago,  what  nation  today  could 
establish  a  claim  to  occupied  territory  ?  And  further- 
more, no  one  has  yet  convincingly  proved  that 
the  Arab-Mussulmen  of  Palestine  are  the  descend- 
ants of  invaders. 
The  soldiers  of 
the  Caliphs  who, 
setting  out  from 
Mecca,  in  less 
than  one  hundred 
years  conquered 
a  great  part  of 
Asia,  North  Afri- 
ca, Spain  and 
Southern  Gaul, 
until  Charles  Mar- 
tel,  the  Grand 
Duke  of  the 
Franks  crushed 
them  at  Poitiers, 
were  comparative- 
ly few.  So  that 
in  Palestine  the 
greater  part  of  the 
Arab  population 
could  not  be  the  descendants  of  the  invaders  from 
Mecca  and  therefore  they  must  be  of  the  native 
population  of  Syria  and  Chaldea  who  have  occupied 
the  land  from  time  immemorial.  The  predominance 
which  the  British  Mandate  gives  to  the  Jews  is  an 
act  of  flagrant  injustice  and  gives  the  lie  to  the 
"Treaty  of  Versailles"  which  says:  "Palestine  for 
the  Palestinians."  Reflexively  Arabs,  Mussulmen 
and  Christians  have  solidly  united  against  this 
menace  to  their  interests. 

Unanimously  and  with  unswerving  firmness  the 
delegates  and  chiefs  of  the  most  important  localities 
in  Palestine  reject  the  Jewish  rule  which  the  British 
Mandate  has  imposed  upon  them  and  they  have 
not  ceased  to  appeal  to  the  considerate  judgment 
of  the  world.  Zionism,  favored  as  it  is  in  high 
diplomatic  circles,  is  offensive  to  Arab,  to  Christian 


and  to  Mussulman;  in  fine,  to  the  great  majority 
of  the  population.  The  favors  of  which  the  Jews 
have  been  the  recipients  from  the  English  Govern- 
ment have  only  augmented  the  antipathy  of  the 
Islamo-Christians  against  that  Government  which, 
on  the  taking  of  Jerusalem,  was  hailed  as  a  liberator. 
This  hatred  has  been  shown  by  violent  mani- 
festations on  the  public  streets.  The  first  mas- 
sacre of  Jews  took  place  at  Jerusalem  on  Easter 
1920.  This  great  Christian  feast  happened  to  coin- 
cide with  the  feast  of  "Nebe  Mouca"  (Prophet 
Moses)  of  the  Mussulmen,  who,  at  the  time,  go 
solemnly  in  pilgrimage  to  the  so-called  tomb  of 
Moses.  The 
morning  after  the 
massacre  these 
same  Mussulmen 
when  passing  the 
Catholic  convents 
shouted :  "Down 
with  the  Jew, 
Long  live  the 
Cross,  Long  live 
the  Pope." 


&   Underwood 

READING   THE    BRITISH 


TILL    more 
serious 
trouble 
broke  out  at  Joffa 
on   May  2,   1921, 
when  30  Jews  and 
10  Arabs  were 
killed    and    142 
proclamation  Jews  were  wound- 

ed. These  tumults  show  the  grave  problem  which 
confronts  the  British  Mandate — Arabian  resistance 
and  the  Jewish  predominance. 

Following  these  troubles,  the  Governor  of  Pales- 
tine, Sir  Herbert  Samuel,  assured  the  natives  that 
the  "Jewish  National  Home"  did  not  mean  "Pales- 
tine for  the  Jews"  and  that  Jewish  immigration  would 
be  limited,  and  that  a  constitution  was  being  drawn 
up  by  the  British  Government  whereby  public  opin- 
ion could  freely  express  itself,  and  that  the  people 
would  have  duly  authorized  representatives  to 
guard  their  interests. 

These  fair  words  have  not  yet  materialized  and 
the  country  is  still  in  a  ferment.  The  least  spark 
suffices  to  create  a  new  conflagration.  May  God 
forbid  that  civilized  nations  make  of  Palestine — 
"that  cradle  of  revelation  and  the  land  of  the  pro- 


THE  1*  SIGN 


phets," — the  tomb  of  Justice  and  right!  Surely  they 
cannot  permit  that  the  Holy  Land  which  was  recon- 
quered by  all  Christian  nations,  and  where  before 
the  present  immigration,  the  Jewish  element  figured 
as  only  one  seventh  of  the  native  population,  should 
be  placed  exclusively  in  the  hands  of  those  who 
crucified  Christ.  If  this  comes  to  pass,  then  that 
land  from  which  have  radiated  the  sublime  princi- 
ples of  brotherly  love  and  peace,  will  be  the  scene 
of  revolution  and  of  new  carnage,  and  the  fanaticism 
of  the  Mohammedans  throughout  the  world  will  be 
aroused  to  the  great  prejudice  of  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians alike. 

*y*HAT  then 
\I/  are    we    to 

think  of  the 
future  of  Catholic- 
ism in  Jerusalem 
and  throughout 
Palestine? 

The  follow- 
ing are  the  Arti- 
cles of  the  British 
Mandate  from 
which  we  may 
gauge  the  status 
of  Catholics. 
Art.  8. 

The  immuni- 
ties and  privileges 
o  f  foreigners ; 
u  n  d  e  r  s  tanding  ( 
thereby  the  right 

of  Consular  protection  such  as  was  formerly  enjoyed 
through  treaty  or  by  customs  of  the  Ottoman  Empire, 
are  definitely  abrogated  in  Palestine. 
Art.  15.. 

The  Mandatary  shall  see  that  complete  liberty 
of  conscience  and  free  exercise  of  all  forms  of 
religious  worship  be  guaranteed  to  all;  subject  to 
requirements  of  public  order  and  morality.  No 
distinction  among  the  inhabitants  of  Palestine 
whether  as  regards  race,  religion  or  tongue,  is  to  be 
recognized. 
Art.  16. 

The  Mandatary  shall  be  charged  with  the 
exercises  of  such  surveillance  of  the  conduct  of  mis- 
sionaries in  Palestine  as  is  necessary  to  order  and 
good  government.  By  virtue  of  this  surveillance 
no  one  shall  hamper  the  liberty  of  action  of  the 


missionaries  or  put  any  obstacles  in  their  way 
either  by  making  distinctions  or  stirring  up  pre- 
judices against  them,  whatever  be  their  religion  or 
nationality. 

These  articles  of  the  Mandate  do  away  with  all 
those  immunities  and  privilges  which  the  Catholics 
missionaries,  especially,  enjoyed  under  the  Ottoman 
Government.      By   this    act   members    of    religious 
orders  and  missionaries  are  less  free  to  carry  this 
work,  now,  under  the  British,  than  they  were  under 
the   Ottoman   Government.     And   this,  despite   the 
fact  that  the  greater  part  of  them,  French  and  Ialians, 
cooperated  effectively  in  the  conquest  of  Palestine; 
and     despite     the 
fact   also   that   it 
was  owing  to  their 
influence  and  the 
confidence    which 
the  nation  had  in 
them,    that    the 
conquest  of  Pales- 
tine and  Syria  was 
made    compara- 
tively easy  for  the 
English    and    the 
Allies. 

None  ques- 
tion that  the 
former  relations 
between  the  peo- 
ple and  their 
ruler,  were  incom- 
patible   with    the 

THE  JEWS  CELEBRATING  THE  ANNIVERSARY   OF  ALLENBY'S   ENTRANCE       exercise    of    a 

sovereign  power  such  as  England;  but  if  this  sove- 
reign power  is  to  be  exercised  by  the  Jews  alone  as 
is  the  case  of  Palestine  today,  then  what  is  to 
become  of  the  civil  rights  of  Catholic  citizens! 

During  the  Turkisk  regime,  the  different  ele- 
ments lived  side  by  side  in  quarters  circumscribed 
by  age-long  tradition.  Since  the  Crusades,  Catholics 
and  especially  the  Religious  of  St.  Francis — so 
highly  esteemed  in  the  Church  and  throughout  the 
secular  world — following  the  example  of  the  early 
Christians,  have  maintained  the  rights  of  Catholic- 
ism in  the  Holy  Land. 

Since  the  time  of  Charlemagne,  France  has 
exercised  her  protection  over  all  Catholics  living  in 
Palestine,  irrespective  of  nationality,  so  much  so, 
that  the  Arabs  call  all  Catholics  indiscriminately 
"French."     The  Religious  of  St.  Francis  called  the 


i| 

* 

m^M 

f   "J 

,      v.     .JH.  TrfW   « 

f 

■  v  a 

W              immf 

r.lg&C 

25 


THE  1*  SIGN 


"Guardians  of  the  Holy  Places"  have  often  proved 
their  title  by  the  shedding  of  their  blood.  They  it 
was  who  opened  the  first  schools,  who  built  the  first 
hospices  wherein  lodging  and  shelter  were  assured 
to  all  Catholic  pilgrims  to  the  Holy  Land. 

1NCE  1847  Palestine,  together  with  the  Isle 
of  Cyprus,  has  formed  a  diocese  under  the 
jurisdiction  of  a  Patriarch.  His  Excellency, 
Monsignor  Barlissina  is  the  present  titular.  Since 
that  date  numerous  religious  congregations  of  men 
and  women,  the  greater  majority  being  French,  have 
established  themselves  in  Palestine.  Before  the  war 
there  were  about  thirty  such. 

The  impor- 
tance of  the  works 
of  charity  under- 
taken by  these 
zealous  religious 
without  distinc- 
tion for  Jew, 
Arab,  or  Chris- 
•ian,  could  not  bet- 
ter be  set  .forth 
than  by  a  few 
figures,  eloquently 
testifying  to  Ca- 
tholic activities  in 
the  Holy  Land. 

In  Palestine  ( 
there     are     1200 


centuries  they  have  regarded  as  their  traditional 
enemy  that  they  will  not  fail  to  take  revenge  in  the 
very  country  where  Christianity  was  born.  They 
will  not  hesitate  to  attack  the  principal  moral  power 
in  Palestine,  Catholicism,  certain  that  in  expelling 
the  Catholic  missionaries  and  religious  and  in  clos- 
ing the  monasteries  and  convents,  they  will  effectu- 
ally extinguish  all  Christianity  in  the  Holy  Land. 
Then  shall  the  Catholic  world  behold  with  awe  the 
catastrophe  predicted  by  Benedict  XV.  in  his  allocu- 
tion of  March  10,1919,  when  he  conjured  up  the 
dreadful  prospect  of  "The  Holy  Land  in  the  hands 
of  the  Jews." 


^^^gj                       ^^^ 

p 

-  -  wiJr^x  ^Rk^' "?*^POB  tz\  i 

EH 

It 

u 


\—  Underwood    & 


priests  and  religious  men  and  500  nuns :  6500  pupils 
are  taught,  and  8000  orphans  are  cared  for.  The 
average  number  of  patients  yearly  treated  in  the 
hospitals  is  7000,  while  35,000  patronize  the  dispen- 
saries. Besides  this,  countless  sick  are  visited  in 
their  homes.  The  point  worthy  of  note  is  that  all 
is  done  gratuitously. 

After  the  deliverance  of  Jerusalem  the  self- 
sacrificing  work  of  these  devoted  men  and  women, 
was  actually  thwarted  by  a  liberal  Protestant  or 
Jewish  administration  which  regards  the  Christ  of 
the  Christians  either  as  a  stranger  or  as  an  enemy. 
And  if,  which  may  God  forbid,  the  British  Mandate, 
as  it  is  at  present  exercised,  receives  the  formal 
approbation  of  the  League  of  Nations,  the  Jewish 
state  will  automatically  be  released  from  British 
control  and  persecution  will  inevitably  follow. 

The  Jewish  immigrants  are  so  imbued  with 
hatred    towards    Christianity    which    for    so    many 


'NFO  RTU- 
N  A  TELY, 
the  Schis- 
matic Church,  be- 
ing without  au- 
thority and  with- 
out a  head,  is  not 
likely  to  accept 
the  challenge. 
Until  the  Patri- 
arch of  the  Schis- 
matic Church  of- 
ficially opened  the 
Holy  Sepulchre 
to  the  Jewish 
underwood  Governor,    a   Jew 

Palestine  being  modernized  by  Zionists  ^ad    never    dared 

to  enter  therein.  The  Greek  Schismatic  Church  is 
becoming  little  by  little  domesticated  through  the 
constant  pressure  of  the  present  ruling  power  which 
has  already  begun  to  interfere  in  its  internal  admini- 
stration and  which  of  course  always  favors  its  puppet 
to  the  great  detriment  of  Catholics.  There  are  other 
facts  more  serious  which  already  show  the  open 
hostility  of  the  new  Mandatary  towards  all  that  is 
Catholic. 

The  following  weighty  words  pronounced  by 
the  Sovereign  Pontiff  in  the  consistory  of  June  13, 
1921,  on  the  subject  of  Palestine,  were  the  occasion 
of  a  significant  incident  in  the  Holy  Land.  The 
Holy  Father  said  in  substance :  "When  the  Chris- 
tian soldiers  of  the  Allies  recovered  the  Holy  Land 
we  shared  the  joy  of  all  the  faithful.  But  we  do 
not  disguise  the  fear  of  seeing  an  event  so  important 
and  so  joyous  in  itself,  end  in  assembling  the  Jews 
in  Palestine  and  giving  them  a  predominance  and 
a  privileged  status. 
26 


THE  1"  SIGN 


"Events  have  shown  that  our  fear  was  not  a  vain 
one.  So  far  in  fact  from  being  ameliorated,  the 
condition  of  Christians  in  Palestine  has  become 
worse  than  that  of  old.  On  account  of  the  new  laws 
and  constitutions,  which,  we  will  not  say  by  the  aim 
of  the  authors,  but  certainly  in  fact,  tend  to  destroy 
Christian  influence  to  the  advantage  of  the  Jews. 
We  see  further  that  many  are  endeavoring  to  deprive 
the  Holy  Places  of  their  sacred  character  and  to 
transform  them  into  pleasure  resorts  where  license 
is  given  full  rein,  all  of  which,  if  deplorable  any- 
where, is  especially  so  in  that  country  where  at 
every  step  one  is  confronted  with  the  most  sacred 
religious  memories." 

Although  an  arbitrary  unprincipled  censorship 
forbade  the  Catho- 
lic Papers  to  pub- 
lish the  words  of 
the  the  Pope,  a 
Jewish  Journal 
"L'Arez"  of  Jeru- 
salem, on  June  20, 
was  at  liberty  to 
put  an  entirely  dif- 
ferent interpreta- 
tion on  them.  This 
same  paper  on  June 
28,  in  an  article, 
headed  "The  Pope 
and  Palestine"  fal- 
sified the  words  of 
Our  Holy  Father  in 
which  he  treated 
of  the  moral  condi- 
tion of  Palestine.  Other  Jewish  papers  published 
the  same  article.  An  article  in  the  "Pm  Pas,"  a 
Jewish  journal  published  at  Jaffa  on  June  30,  printed 
the  following:  "The  word  Justice  has  become  the 
pet  word  of  the  Popes,  serving  to  hide  their  evil 
deeds  and  to  deceive  the  people."  Further  on  it 
adds:  "The  Holy  Ones  of  God  preach  in  their 
churches  a  national  movement,  incititive  to  murder 
and  pillage,  and  plot  with  the  devil  and  the  Pope." 
This  accusation  is  as  false  as  it  is  absurd  for  not 
only  has  no  priest  or  religious  encouraged  active 
resistance,  but,  during  the  disturbances  in  Joffa  last 
May,  a  massacre  of  Jews  by  Mussulmen  was  pre- 
vented by  the  sole  intervention  of  the  Latin 
Patriarch,  Monsig.  Barlassina  who  hurried  to  the 
scene  at  the  first  alarm. 


FORMER  HOMES  OF  THE  GERMAN   PROTESTANT  DEACONESSES  NOW  1 
RESIDENCE  OF  SIR  HERBERT  SAMUEL 


nOW  then  are  we  to  explain  the  conduct  of  the 
Mandatary  Power  towards  Catholics?  It 
allows  full  liberty  for  the  publication  of  such 
inflammatory  articles  as  above  against  the  Pope  and 
yet  forbids  the  diocesan  authorities  to  defend  the 
Holy  Father  by  means  of  their  own  papers.  The 
Latin  Patriarch  protested  energetically  against  this 
attitude  of  the  British  Government  in  a  Pastoral 
Letter  dated  July  7,  1921. 

To  sum  up,  Palestine  is  actually  a  closed 
country,  wherein  the  opposing  parties  are  ready  to 
come  to  blows  at  the  first  provocation  if  the  terms 
of  the  British  Mandate  meet  with  the  approval  of 
the  League  of  Nations. 

Jewry  wishes  to  restore  the  ancient  kingdom  of 
David  and  Solo- 
mon in  Palestine 
and  to  exercise  un- 
controlled sover- 
eign power.  The 
Mandatary  played 
into  its  hands  in 
naming  a  Jewish 
governor  in  Pales- 
tine, when  expedi- 
ency and  even  pru- 
dence, demanded 
either  a  Mussulman 
or  a  Christian 
Governor  in  the 
midst  of  such  rival 
factions. 

The  Chris- 
tians and  Mussul- 
men and  Arabs  base  their  contention  on  their 
numerical  strength.  "No  Jewish  rule,"  they  say. 
"The  Jews  are  but  a  small  minority  and  hence  their 
participation  in  the  government  ought  to  be  in 
relative  proporation  to  their  numbers."  Since 
neither  the  Christian  nor  the  Mussulman  can  hold 
his  own  in  the  financial  field  by  matching  capital 
with  capital  or  even  shrewdness  with  shrewdness, 
continued  recourse  will  be  had  to  violence.  In  such 
case  the  Mandatary  power  will  bring  into  play 
its  full  war  equipment,  machine  guns,  armored  cars, 
and  fighting  planes,  and  coerce  submission.  This 
condition  will  obtain  so  long  as  the  natives  do  not 
allow  themselves  to  be  bought  by  gold,  a  thing  so 
easy  in  the  Near  East. 

The  Land  of  Christ  is  to  be  a  flag-stone  on  the 
English    imperial    road   between   Egypt   and    India. 


27 


THE  f  SIGN 


As  she  passes  over  this  road  she  will  crush  Justice 
and  Right  in  the  very  land  of  their  birth.  She  is 
indifferent  to  the  fact  that  she  is  creating  a  centre 
of  Moslem  agitation  which  will  be  linked  with  the 
two  other  spheres  of  unrest,  Egypt  and  India,  thus 
adding  to  the  force  of  the  storm  which  is  gathering 
in  the  East  against  the  British  Empire. 

As  Caholics  we  favor  neither  the  agitation  of 
the  Arabs  nor  the  triumph  of  Judaism.  The  two  are 
equally  a  menace  to  the  peace  of  the  Orient  and 
a  danger  to  Catholicism.  There  is  no  question  of 
depriving  England  of  the  Mandate.  She  will  not 
give  up  her  hold.  But  England  is  bound  in  justice 
to  exercise  her  power  in  a  way  which  will  safeguard 
the  rights  of  both  Christian  and  Musselman.  The 
Palestine  question  is  not  an  affair  of  politics;  neither 
is  it  a  mere  English  colonial  problem.  It  affects 
Catholics  the  world  over.  The  Holy  Places  consti- 
tute a  sacred  patrimony,  about  the  preservation  of 
which  all  the  faithful  are  concerned.  These  are 
the  sentiments  which  Pope  Benedict  has  so  elo- 
quently voiced  in  the  allocution  above  referred  to. 

It  is  for  Catholic  opinion  to  support  the  appeal 
of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  and  in  all  effective  ways  to 
bring  his  point  of  view  before  the  Executives  of  the 


great  nations  and  the  accredited  representatives  in 
the  council  of  the  League  of  Nations,  So  that  im- 
mediate and  efficacious  steps  may  be  taken  to  put  an 
end  to  the  transformation  of  Palestine  into  a  Jewish 
state.. 

^^s^HE  proclamation  of  the  Governor  of  Palestine, 
y*J  Sir  Herbert  Samuel,  after  the  massacre  at 
Joffa,  gives  the  broad  outlines  of  a  policy 
replete  with  wisdom,  and  it  is  only  necessary  to  con- 
firm and  apply  it  should  the  League  of  Nations 
underwrite  the  British  Mandate. 

If  Sir  Herbert's  wise  words  are  not  listened  to, 
then,  not  only  shall  we  see  the  Holy  Land  lost  to 
Christianity  and  the  rights  of  the  non-Jewish  ma- 
jority trampled  under  foot,  but  we  shall  see  two 
thousand  years  of  history  annihilated  in  the  land 
where  history  first  had  birth,  in  that  land  where 
stands  the  most  ancient  of  momuments,  in  that  land 
about  which  the  Christian's  most  hallowed  memories 
cling;  we  shall  witness  the  amazing  spectacle  of  so 
called  Christian  Nations,  under  color  of  replacing 
the  Ottoman  dominion  with  their  own  much  vaunted 
ideal  of  liberty,  in  reality  setting  up  a  new  and  more 
galling  tyranny  in  the  Land  of  Christ's  Birth. 


A  Christmas  Nocturne 


Murtagh  Moore 


Sleep,  Jesu  mine! 

Thy"  Father  is  out  where  the  stars  cleave  the  night; 

He'll  guide  them  a  while;  now  close  thine  ey"es  tight; 

Rest  Thou,  betime. 

Sleep! 


Sleep — thine  eyes  beguile! 

For  the  wild  sparrows  no  care  to  thee  take; 

Thy  Father  vJill  guard  them,  asleep  or  awake: 

Forget  them  awhile; 

Sleep! 


Slumber  in  peace! 

Men  are  asleep  in  the  mumerous  town? 

Angels  keep  vigil   the  night's  shadows  dovJn; 

Give  thy  heart  ease. 

Sleep! 


The   White   Rose   of  Lucca 

Trie  Stor;9   of  Gemma  Galgani 

MATTHEW    KUEBEL 
4 — The    Marks   of  tke   Lord  Jesus — (continued) 


gN   arrangement   such   as  this  was  pleasing 
to  Gemma,  because  it  delivered  her  from 
prying    neighbors'    vulgar    curiosity,    and 
from    the    misunderstandings    that    arose 
from  time  to  time  in  her  own. home  because  of  the 
unusual  ways  of  her  spiritual  life. 

In  the  meantime  Gemma  went  to  her  confessor, 
Monsignor  Volpi,  and  informed  him  modestly, 
simply,  and  sincerely,  of  all  the  details  concerning 
the  reception  of  the  miraculous  wounds.  The  Bishop 
received  her  very  kindly,  listened  to  her  narrative 
without  any  expression  either  of  wonder  or  of  sur- 
prise, and  without  giving  any  decision  on  so  im- 
portant a  matter,  merely  bade  her  to  pray  very  hard 
and  then  dismissed  her. 

While  the  Bishop  could  not  believe  that  a  soul 
of  such  eminent  virtue  was  the  victim  of  self- 
deception  and  hallucination,  still  he  was  much  per- 
plexed to  think  that  his  humble  penitent  was  the 
recipient  of  spiritual  favors  that  had  not  been  vouch- 
safed even  to  many  of  the  greatest  saints  of  the 
Church.  The  formal  statements  of  the  Passionists, 
as  they  did  not  relieve  the  prudent  Bishop  of  his 
responsibility,  so  they  did  not  dispel  his  anxiety  to 
know  certainly  the  origin  of  the  marvels  that  had 
become  ordinary  incidents  in  Gemma's  life. 

To  ascertain  whether  or  not  these  things  were 
the  results  of  natural  causes,  Monsignor  Volpi  en- 
listed the  service  of  a  worthy  and  competent  phy- 
sician, but  the  attempt  to  subject  these  heavenly 
things  to  the  judgment  of  science  proved  abortive. 
For  our  Lord  warned  the  Bishop  through  Gemma 
that  the  course  that  he  had  proposed  to  take  was  not 
pleasing  to  Him ;  that  if  he  came  alone  to  see  Gemma 
he  should  be  convinced;  but  that  otherwise  he  should 
see  nothing.  Nevertheless,  the  Bishop  did  not  think 
it  right  to  abandon  his  purpose;  so  that  although  he 
visited  the  house  at  a  time  which  otherwise  would 
have  been  most  opportune,  Gemma's  wounds,  seen 
only  a  moment  before  by  the  members  of  the  house- 
hold,   immediately   disappeared,    when   the    doctor 


accompanying  the  Bishop  approached  to  examine 
them.  Painful  in  the  extreme  was  the  effect  of  this 
incident  on  the  Bishop's  mind,  and  he  was  not 
entirely  re-assured,  when  Gemma  went  to  show  him 
alone  the  wounds  that  he  had  not  been  permitted 
to  see  in  company  with  the  physician  an  hour  or  two 
before. 

y^^HE  Bishop  was  a  very  busy  prelate,  and  al- 
y_  J  though  he  kept  himself  informed  about  Gem- 
ma's affairs  by  members  of  the  household  he 
could  not  give  to  the  important  question  the  attention 
it  demanded,  and  therefore,  the  responsibility  of 
Gemma's  direction  weighed  upon  him  heavily. 
While  he  was  in  Rome  at  this  time  he  sought  to 
interview  one  Father  Germanus  about  the  matter, 
but  that  learned  and  holy  priest  was  out  of  the  city, 
and  subsequent  efforts  on  both  sides  for  a  meeting 
were  equally  unsuccessful. 

Afterwards  there  was  an  interchange  of  cor- 
respondence between  them,  in  which  Monsignor 
Volpi  told  the  distinguished  priest  all  about  Gemma 
and  asked  for  suggestions  in  the  matter  of  her 
direction;  while  Father  Germanus,  in  turn,  advised 
that  Gemma  be  placed  on  the  ordinary  path  of  virtue 
followed  by  the  majority  of  the  faithful.  Later,  in 
reply  to  further  details  the  Bishop  furnished,  he 
suggested  that  recourse  he  had  to  the  exorcisms  of 
the  Church. 

Sometime  after,  on  the  1st  of  September,  1900, 
to  be  precise,  at  the  Bishop's  request  Father 
Germanus  was  sent  by  his  superiors  to  Lucca.  Then 
it  was  that  he  met  Gemma  for  the  first  time,  and 
that  in  accord  with  the  Bishop's  desire,  he  undertook 
her  spiritual  direction;  and  until  her  death  three 
years  later  he  remained  her  spiritual  guide. 

Father  Germanus  tells  us  that  as  soon  as  he 
met  Gemma  he  was  filled  with  veneration  for  her, 
and  that  even  from  the  beginning  he  felt  that  she 
was  no  ordinary  soul.    Nevertheless  he  applied  him- 


29 


THE  f  SIGN 


self  industriously  to  discover  whether  or  not  Gem- 
ma's spirit  was  from  God. 

For  a  long  time  Gemma  was  kept  in  suspense 
as  to  what  she  should  understand  by  the  extraordin- 
ary things  that  she  experienced.  But  at  last,  after 
a  long  and  searching  investigation  the  prudent 
priest's  first  impression  became  his  settled  con- 
viction, namely,  that  Gemma  was  a  soul  of  rare 
sanctity  and  endowed  with  marvelous  supernatural 
gifts. 

Conformably  with  this  decision  he  announced 
to  Gemma,  much  to  her  relief,  that  her  extraordinary 
spiritual  experiences  were  operations  of  the  Spirit 
of  God,  and  that  she  could  surrender  herself  to 
their  leading  without  hesitation,  misgiving,  or  fear. 
It  was  beyond  her  ability  to  express  her  joy  at  this 
announcement,  for  no  one  could  have  felt  its  need 
more  than  she;  and  no  one  could  have  been  more 
grateful  for  the  decision  when  it  came. 

5 — Sweetness   and   Strength 

XN  the  preceding  chapters  of  this  story  a 
fairly  well-defined  outline  was  traced,  it 
is  hoped,  of  Gemma  Galgani's  beautiful 
personality;  a  personality  of  which  narra- 
tive order  does  not  permit  or  require  the  full  por- 
trayal. Hence  it  will  be  well  to  pause  before  narrat- 
ing the  closing  chapter  of  this  short  but  saintly  life, 
and  fill  in  the  picture  with  a  little  more  detail. 

The  phrase,  "sweetness  and  strength,"  aptly 
sums  up  the  spiritual  beauty  and  perfection  of  our 
saintly  subject.  This  touching  sweetness  was  the 
result  of  Gemma's  wonderfully  childlike  simplicity, 
which  was  always  her  principal  charm.  But  as  this 
simplicity  was  quite  supernatural,  it  carried  with 
it  no  element  of  weakness;  for,  she  was  endowed 
in  a  high  degree  with  the  opposite  virtue  of  heroic 
strength.  One  virtue  did  not  weaken  or  destroy 
the  other;  rather  they  were  a  mutual  support.  All 
her  life  Gemma  drank  deep  at  the  fountains  of 
strength — the  five  Wounds  of  Christ:  she  knew 
by  personal  and  voluntary  participation  all  the 
bitterness  of  His  chalice;  hence  it  was  that  while 
heroically  strong,  she  was  at  the  same  time  adorned 
with  somewhat  of  that  magnetic  appeal  by  which 
Christ  Crucified  draws  all  things  to  Himself.  Gem- 
ma's sweetness  and  strength  were  the  sweetness  and 
strength  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows. 

Although  Gemma  died  in  the  flower  of  young 
womanhood,  she  retained  to  the  last  the  childlike 
simplicity  which  was  her   characteristic   virtue   as 


well  as  the  form,  the  color,  and  the  savor  of  her 
spiritual  perfection.  She  entered  the  path  of 
Christian  holiness  when  as  yet  a  child,  and  after  a 
type  of  sanctity  the  most  sublime  had  been  realized 
in  her,  she  ceased  not  to  be  a  child  in  heart  and  mind 
and  soul. 

The  pictures  that  we  have  of  the  saintly  girl 
display  one  of  those  rare  countenances  that  never 
outgrow  the  sweet  charm  of  childhood.  The  expres- 
sion of  her  face  with  its  soft  roundness  of  line  and 
feature  and  its  serene  openness  of  gaze,  indicates 
the  lucid  candor  of  a  soul  that  has  not  learned  the 
art  of  concealing  its  sentiments,  because  unconscious 
of  aught  of  which  to  be  ashamed.  Such  a  reading 
of  Gemma's  countenance  is. entirely  consistent  with 
her  saintly  character.  Her  mind's  eye  was  always 
fixed  upon  God, — an  attitude  which  begot  an  un- 
alterable serenity  that  was  like  the  placid  surface 
of  clear  water,  which  mirrors  all  that  falls  within 
its  compass  but  upon  which  nothing  is  able  to  make 
an  impression.  Hers,  too,  was  the  heart  of  an 
innocent  love,  a  heart  in  which  calm  rectitude  and 
perfect  order  reigned,  and  hence  one  that  was 
immune  from  the  canker  of  vain-glory,  of  pride,  or 
of  disorderly  affections  of  any  kind. 

^TRANSPARENT  candor,  an  outgrowth  of  Gem- 
y_  J  ma's  simplicity,  was  enshrined  in  her  whole 
person  and  shone  with  a  bright  effulgence 
in  her  every  word  and  action.  It  has  already  been 
noted  how  straightforward  she  was  in  speech,  and 
how  this  trait  was  sometimes  misunderstood  for 
rudeness  and  pride.  The  truth  is,  she  always  endeav- 
ored to  put  in  practise  the  Gospel  precept  of 
absolute  sincerity,  of  which  idle  talk  is  the  greatest 
foe.  In  her  letters  she  avoided  the  conventional 
preambles,  no  matter  how  high  of  station  was  the 
persons  addressed,  and  went  straight  to  the  point. 
The  only  introductions  she  used  was  certain  ex- 
pressions peculiar  to  her  and  full  of  ineffable  sim- 
plicity. "Monsignor,"  she  would  begin,  "stay  and 
listen;  so  and  so  has  happened."  Or  again:  "My 
Father,  listen  to  the  curious  thing  I  am  going  to  tell 
you."  Then  immediately  followed  what  she  had  to 
say,  without  thought  for  style,  but  just  as  her  heart 
dictated.  Yet  how  charming  are  those  letters  in 
their  spiritual  unction  and  in  the  noble  simplicity 
of  their  untutored  eloquence! 

When  Gemma  had  to  treat  personally  with 
others  about  any  matter,  she  did  so  with  an  unre- 
strained   cordiality    and    ingenuous    affabiliy.     Fre- 


THE  1*SIGN 


quently,  distinguished  persons,  attracted  by  her  repu- 
tation for  holiness,  called  to  see  her,  and  not  rarely 
to  consult  her  on  important  affairs.  In  such  cases 
she  was  always  very  brief;  gave  her  answers  with 
evident  grasp  and  insight,  and  then  withdrew  as 
quickly  as  she  could.  Yet  she  always  inspired  with 
affectionate  confidence  those  who  met  her,  and  only 
a  brief  acquaintanceship  was  all  that  was  necessary 
to  fill  them  with  veneration.  This  regard  she  returned 
with  much  tenderness,  yet  with  no  show  of  effusion 
or  compliment. 

In  a  word,  she  was  in  everything  the  same 
simple  girl,  natural,  unassuming,  hating  and  avoiding 
all  singularity.  True  it  is  that  she  must  of  necessity 
attract  attention  by  the  severe  plainness  of  her  dress, 
by  her  dignity  of  bearing,  and  by  her  uncommon 
modesty.  Of  such  attention  however  she  was  quite 
unconscious.  When  in  church  nothing  distinguished 
her  from  other  devout  worshippers  except,  perhaps, 
a  somewhat  more  rapt  devotion  in  her  prayers. 
She  was  accustomed  each  day  to  hear  two  Masses, 
at  the  first  of  which  she  communicated,  and  during 
the  other  she  made  her  thanksgiving.  At  the  first 
sign  by  her  adopted  mother,  who  in  later  years  al- 
ways was  her  companion,  Gemma  would  at  once 
interrupt 'her  devotions  and  prepare  to  start  her 
home,  as  if  she  had  been  waiting  all  the  while  to  be 
called  away.  She  would  not  return  to  church  again 
until  evening,  when  she  would  visit  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  and  assist  at  Benediction. 

©UT  it  was  in  the  practise  of  virtue  that  Gem- 
ma's    simplicity     shone     with     truly     divine 
beauty.     It  will  be   sufficient  to   speak  here 
only  of  her  obedience  and  humility,  for  these  bore 
most  deeply  the  stamp  of  her  sweet  childlikeness. 

It  was  her  perfect  obedience  that  lead  Gemma 
to  abandon  her  will  and  judgment,  not  only  in  the 
mere  commonplaces  of  life,  but  in  all  spiritual  mat- 
ters, especially  extraordinary  ones.  She  would  un- 
dertake nothing  without  the  approval  and  permission 
of  her  spiritual  director.  Thus  in  regard  to  certain 
excruciating  pains  in  her  head  she  wrote:  "Provided 
you  approve,  Father,  I  should  like  to  ask  Jesus  to 
calm  my  head  a  little."  "Give  me  leave,  Father," 
she  wrote  again,  "to  ask  Jesus  to  take  me  quickly 
out  of  this  life,  to  be  with  Him  in  glory."  To  such 
a  degree  had  she  attained  in  this  virtue,  that  even 
when  favored  with  visions  of  Our  Lord,  she  did  not 
consider  herself  at  liberty  to  disregard  the  directions 
of  her  confessor.     The  latter  imposed  on  her  a  time 


limit  in  which  to  treat  with  her  Savior;  thereafter, 
even  though  she  was  consumed  with  love  and  com- 
passion at  His  feet,  when  the  striking  of  the  clock 
announced  the  expiration  of  the  allotted  time,  full 
of  distress  she  would  exclaim:  "Jesus,  go  away  I 
don't  want  you  any  longer."  "Poor  Jesus,"  she  once 
said,  "how  often  have  I  not  been  rude  to  Him  in 
obedience  to  the  confessor.  And  He  stood  there,  so 
good,  so  good." 

In  the  practise  of  humility  she  was  equally 
childlike  and  perfect.  So  deeply  was  she  convinced 
of  the  need  of  humility  in  God's  service,  so  strenu- 
ously did  she  strive  to  acquire  this  virtue,  that  in  the 
end  her  lowliness  of  heart  became  so  profound  that 
she  felt  herself  to  be  the  most  sinful  among  all  God's 
creatures. 

In  every  word  and  action  this  sense  of  her 
spiritual  wretchedness  and  misery  is  revealed. 
Hence  her  repeated  lamentations  over  her  ingrati- 
tude and  the  multitude  of  her  sins;  hence  her  remon- 
strances when  others  requested  her  prayers,  and  her 
appeals  to  their  supposed  knowledge  of  her  sinful- 
ness as  a  sufficient  proof  that  no  good  could  be 
expected  from  her;  hence  her  dread  of  being  deceiv- 
ed by  Satan  and  in  turn  of  deceiving  others;  hence 
her  repugnance  to  speak  of  her  great  graces :  for 
her  anxious  care  to  keep  secret,  "the  things  of  Jesus," 
as  she  called  them,  was  equalled  only  by  her  dread 
of  their  becoming  known. 

No  wonder  that  the  dear  child  was  filled  with 
shame  when  before  her  Lord;  no  wonder  that  she 
was  wont  to  beg  Him  to  reserve  His  gifts  for  those 
who  were  more  worthy,  and  to  warn  Him  to  beware 
lest  He  soil  His  hands  with  a  creature  as  wretched 
as  she.  How  touching  are  the  epithets  she  applied 
to  herself,  especially  in  prayer!  She  styled  herself 
"foolish  virgin,"  "miserable  being,"  "useless  ser- 
vant." "Dear  Mother,"  she  would  pray,  "dear  Lord, 
this  miserable  being  has  to  be  lifted  up."  She  used 
to  say  that  whoever  prayed  for  "poor  Gemma" 
would  do  a  really  great  act  of  charity. 

We  are  not  surprised  to  learn  that  Heaven, 
without  fear  that  its  bounty  would  be  abused,  lavish- 
ed its  gifts  upon  this  blessed  child  so  deeply  ground- 
ded  in  simplicity  and  lowliness  of  heart.  In  fact, 
Gemma's  sweet  childlikeness  was  the  'open  sesame' 
that  unbarred  the  gates  of  heaven,  almost  at  her 
bidding,  for  she  was  favored  with  countless  visions 
and  apparitions  of  Our  Lord,  of  the  Blessed  Virgin 
and  of  the  Angels. 

To  be  continued 


31 


Archconfraternit})  of 


the   Sacred    P 


Relations    to    Other    Societies 

^-— ^HATEVER  inspires  and  encourages  virtue 
W I  ^  and  religion  receives  the  sanction  and 
\^\J  support  of  the  Church.  This  is  true  of  the 
different  societies  which  bring  the  faithful 
together  to  honor  some  mystery  of  our  divine 
Savior's  life,  or  of  His  immaculate  Mother,  or  of 
some  one  of  His  wonderful  saints.  The  value  of 
confraternities  consists  in  keeping  the  truths  of  faith 
always  vivid  and  active,  while  at  the  same  time 
affording  numerous  opportunities  to  practice  Chris- 
tian charity.  Such  societies  serve  as  an  antidote  to 
individual  selfishness,  greed,  and  pride,  and  develope 
in  social  life  that  spirit  of  "love  one  another,  as  I 
have  loved  you,"  which  distinguishes  the  true  fol- 
lower of  Christ.  Today  the  world  is  filled  with 
fraternal  organizations,  but  only  in  the  sodalities 
of  the  Church  may  be  found  that  kindness,  sympa- 
thy, mutual  help,  and  potent  influence,  which  exact 
denial  of  self  for  the  sake  of  others,  the  sacrifice  of 
personal  interests  to  promote  the  spiritual  welfare 
and  true  happiness  of  the  neighbor.  The  Church 
urges  her  children  to  form  sodalities,  or  to  unite 
with  societies  she  had  approved,  because  they  truly 
advance  the  kingdom  of  Christ  on  earth,  accomplish 
much  in  saving  souls,  and  day  by  day  increase  the 
number  of  the  saints.  Like  a  display  of  beautiful 
flowers,  here  and  there  exhibiting  clusters  of  violets 
or  lilies,  of  carnations  or  roses,  of  peonies  or  chry- 
santhemums, so  the  varied  sodalities  of  the  Church 
enhance  her  grandeur,  exalt  her  teaching,  and  every- 
where diffuse  her  ardent  love  of  sincere  piety  and 
solid  virtue. 

The  difference  between  societies  is  not  merely 
a  matter  of  name,  but  is  to  be  sought  in  the  purpose 
they  endeavor  to  accomplish.  Some  societies  are 
devoted  to  works  of  charity,  such  as  the  care  of  the 
sick,  or  the  relief  of  the  poor,  or  the  conversion  of 
pagans  and  the  spread  of  the  faith.  Others,  again, 
have  aims  that  are  purely  devotional, — that  so  by 
constant  recollection  of  some  divine  mystery,  or 
the  veneration  and  imitation  of  some  saint,  the 
members  will  be  able  to  make  their  lives  more  con- 
formable to  the  faith  they  profess.  Distinctions 
may  also  arise  on  the  account  of  age,  sex,  state  in 


assion 


life,  the  means  to  be  employed,  and  the  manner  of 
direction.  Some  have  a  regular  election  of  officers, 
and  others  are  governed  by  prefects  or  promotors 
under  the  leadership  of  a  Director  or  Moderator. 
Moreover,  some  sodalities  confine  their  sphere  of 
action  to  their  immediate  vicinity,  while  others 
radiate  their  influences  throughout  the  universal 
Church. 

In  many  respects,  however,  the  societies  of  the 
Church  are  alike.  They  make  the  same  public  pro- 
fession of  faith.  They  consider  the  Holy  Sacrifice 
of  the  Mass  and  the  regular  reception  of  the  Holy 
Sacraments  as  their  main  sources  of  spiritual 
strength.  They  seek  the  approval  and  blessing  of 
the  Church  for  the  devotional  exercises  they  prac- 
tice, or  the  works  of  mercy  and  charity  they  under- 
take. It  is  the  purpose  of  all  to  give  greater  honor 
and  glory  to  God,  to  proclaim  and  defend  His 
Church  on  earth,  to  combat  error  and  vice,  to  afford 
encouragement  by  good  example,  and  to  assist  as 
much  as  possible  in  the  conversion  of  sinners  and 
the  salvation  of  souls.  Such  is  the  harmony  be- 
tween the  societies  that  often  persons  become 
members  of  three  or  more  of  them,  and  successfully 
promote  the  interest  of  all.  While  each  society 
strives  to  attain  a  definite  purpose,  they  support 
each  other  and  move  together  to  the  great  end  point- 
ed out  to  them  by  the  Church. 


xs 


HE  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion  aims  to 
enlist  every  man,  woman,  and  child,  in  its 
world-wide  mission  of  preaching  Christ 
Crucified.  To  succeed  in  this  exalted  purpose,  it 
requires  nothing  that  would  interfere  or  conflict 
with  the  duties  of  any  other  society.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  chooses  many  devout  practices  for  its  own 
great  work,  which  are  regarded  by  other  sodali- 
ties as  rules.  To  promote  devotion  to  the  Sacred 
Passion,  the  members  of  the  Archconfraternity 
assist  at  Holy  Mass,  receive  regularly  the  Holy 
Sacraments  and  pray  daily  that  Jesus  Crucified 
may  become  more  generally  known  and  venerated. 
Even  assisting  at  the  meetings  of  other  societies 
and  following  their  devotional  exercises  may  be  done 


A  NATIONAL      Sj>     CATHOLIC 
/MONTMLY        MAGAZINES 


|      VOL.  I. 


JANUARY,    1922 


No.  6 


d,    1922 


rorwar 

XT  Will  be  of  interest  to  SIGN  readers  to  learn  tkat  THE  SIGM  begins  its  first 
New  Year  with  a  reading  circle  of  60,000.  This  is  its  growth  since  August, 
1 92  I .  This  gratifying  result  has  been  achieved  in  strict  adherence  to  its  original 
policy)  of  appealing  to  the  public  through  accredited  solicitors  who  are  responsible 
directly  to  the  Editors  of  THE  SIGN,  and  for  Whose  thorough  trustworthiness  THE  SIGN 
is  read;9  to  vouch.  No  agency  has  been,  or  will  be,  authorized  to  represent  THE 
SIGN.      This  policy^  THE  SIGN  is  determined  in  future  to  maintain. 

Such  a  phenomenal  growth,  has  not  been  attained  without  a  number  of  unavoidable 
inconveniences.      These  Will  diminish   as  THE  SIGN  Waxes  stronger. 

THE  SIGN  thanks-  its  readers  for  their  patronage,  and  at  the  same  time  it  asks 
their  active  cooperation  in  helping  to  Widen  the  sphere  of  its  influence,  to  bring  it  into 
every  Catholic  home,  to  sustain  it  in  its  avoWed  mission  of  making  Christ  Crucified  better 
known  in  the  land. 

The  better  to  attain  this  end,  it  will  continue  to  feature  both  devotional  and 
instructional  articles  on  the  Sacred  Passion.  These  will  be  contributed  by  various  Passionist 
Fathers  in  different  parts  of  the  world.  Among  these  articles  Will  be  a  number  of  new 
illustrated  studies  of  the  Holy  Places  written  from  the  Holy  Land. 

To  numerous  inquirers  THE  SIGN  is  pleased  to  announce  that  materials  are  being 
gathered  for  a  biography^,  shortly  to  appear,  of  Father  Fidelis  of  the  Cross — James  Kent  Stone. 

Father  Felix  Ward,  C.P.  in  lieu  of  special  articles,  Will  contribute  a  number  of 
advanced  chapters  from  the  book  on  which  he  has  been  engaged  during  the  past  four 
))ears — "Passionists  in  America,  Sketches  Historical  and   Personal". 

The  department  of  fiction  Will  be  cohered  by  such  Well-knoWn  authors  as  Padre 
Coloma,  S.  J.,  John  Ay^scough,  Gabriel  Francis  Powers  and  others. 

The  monthly  publication  of  letters  from  the  Passionist  Fathers  who  have  recently 
set  out  for  China  will  enable  SIGN  readers  to  keep  themselves  informally  in  touch  with 
latest  developments  in  the  present  day  movement  in  the  Catholic  Church  of  America 
towards  the  Chinese  Mission  Fields. 

To  the  instructional  pages  already  featured  will  be  added  neW  columns  succinctly 
treating  of  Church  History;  also,  of  sociological  and  economical  topics  along  lines 
mapped  out  by  the  N.C.W.C.  These  will  be  conducted  by  accredited  specialists  in 
these  departments. 

THE  SIGN,  in  conclusion,  wishes  its  many  patrons  a  happy  and  prosperous  NeW  Year. 


2 


I  MMM5Z 


v  ^ffsftrSfiEi 


The   Epipharpj)   of  the   Passion 


Tke  Savior  King 
Herbert  McDevitt,  C.  P. 


ON  two  occasions  our  Divine  Savior  Jesus 
Christ  was  publicly  proclaimed  King  of 
the  Jews.  Soon  after  His  birth,  the  Wise 
Men  from  the  East  journeyed  to  Jerusalem 
inquiring:  "Where  is  He  that  is  born  King  of  the 
Jews?"  The  manifestation  of  Christ  to  these  three 
pilgrim  Gentiles  is  now  commemorated  under  the 
title  of  the  Epiphany.  After  many  years,  Our  Lord 
carried  His  cross  through  the  streets  of  Jerusalem 
and  was  crucified  on  the  hill  of  Calvary.  Then 
Pontius  Pilate  wrote  a  title,  we  are  told,  in  Hebrew, 
Greek,  and  Latin,  so  none  would  fail  to  understand 
the  superscription :  "Jesus  of  Nazareth,  King  of  the 
Jews."  This  was  the  Epiphany  of  the  Passion,  the 
second  manifestation  of  Christ  the  Savior  to  the 
world. 

In  both  events  Our  Blessed  Lord  is  called  the 
King  of  the  Jews.  With  some  knowledge  of  the 
Sacred  Passion,  one  may  go  to  Bethlehem  with 
the  Wise  Men  and  adore  the  Son  of  God  in  the  arms 
of  His  immaculate  Mother  and  offer  Him  gifts. 
With  the  incidents  of  the  Epiphany  in  mind,  one 
may  ascend  the  slope  of  Golgotha  and  like  the  Wise 
Men  kneel  in  adoration  before  Christ  Crucified  and 
present  gifts  to  Him.  In  the  Epiphany  of  the  Pas- 
sion as  in  the  Epiphany  of  the  Crib,  it  is  Christ 
the  King  and  Savior  of  the  world,  Who  commands 
the  reverence  of  mankind. 

The  circumstances  of  the  Epiphany  of  the 
Infant  Redeemer  are  thus  related  by  St.  Matthew 
in  the  second  chapter  of  his  Gospel.  "When  Jesus 
was  born  in  Bethlehem  of  Juda,  in  the  days  of  King 
Herod,  behold  there  came  Wise  Men  from  the  East 
to  Jerusalem,  saying :  'Where  is  He  that  is  born  King 
of  the  Jews?  For  we  have  seen  his  star  in  the 
East,  and  have  come  to  adore  Him."  The  Evangelist 
tells  us  that  King  Herod  was  troubled  and  all 
Jerusalem  with  him  on  hearing  of  the  birth  of  a 
king. 

Calling  together  the  chief  priests  and  scribes 
of  the  people,  the  king  anxiously  inquired  where  the 
expected  Messias  should  be  born.  They  replied  in 
the  words  of  the  Prophet  Micheas  that  Bethlehem 
of  Juda  would  be  the  place.  Herod  asked  the  three 
Wise  Men  privately  about  the  wonderful  star,  which 


had  guided  them  thither,  and  failing  to  glean  the 
information  he  coveted  as  to  the  whereabouts  of  the 
the  Child,  craftily  instructed  them  to  continue  their 
journey  to  Bethlehem.  Seek  diligently  for  the  child, 
he  said,  and  when  you  have  found  Him,  return  that 
I  may  also  go  and  see  Him. 

The  Wise  Men  quitted  the  presence  of  Herod 
and  his  court  to  resume  their  journey  to  Bethlehem. 
Once  more  the  star  shining  brightly  went  before  them 
until  it  stood  above  the  place  where  the  Child  was. 
Entering  the  grotto,  they  found  the  Infant  Jesus, 
nestling  on  a  bed  of  straw,  His  immaculate  Mother 
kneeling  over  Him,  and  by  her  side  the  silent 
Joseph.  Falling  down  they  adored  the  Child  King, 
Whom  faith  had  told  them  was  the  Messias,  God 
Incarnate.  Thereupon  opening  their  treasures  they 
spread  before  Him  costly  gifts  of  gold,  frankincense, 
and  myrrh. 

Admonished  from  on  high  that  they  should  not 
return  to  Herod  the  Wise  Men  followed  a  different 
route  back  to  their  own  country.  An  Angel  then 
appeared  to  Joseph  whilst  he  was  asleep,  warning 
him  of  impending  danger  to  the  Holy  family.  With 
all  haste  Joseph  took  the  Child  and  His  Mother  and 
fled  into  Egypt;  for  as  he  knew,  Herod  was  seeking 
the  Child  to  destroy  Him.  In  truth,  the  cruel 
tyrant  sent  a  company  of  soldiers  to  Bethlehem  with 
instructions  to  slaughter  every  male  child  under  two 
years  of  age.  Thus,  amid  scenes  of  blood,  lamenta- 
tion, and  death,  ended  the  first  Epiphany. 

XT  may  be  truly  said  that  the  Sacred  Passion 
of  Christ  was  graphically  foreshadowed  in 
the  Epiphany  of  Bethlehem.  His  own  people, 
the  Jews,  that  one  day  would  cry  out:  "Away  with 
Him!  Crucify  Him!  We  have  no  king  but  Caesar!" 
even  at  the  time  of  His  birth,  ignored  Him;  whilst 
three  Strangers  from  afar  must  needs  travel  perilous 
roads  to  welcome  and  to  worship  Him.  All  Jerusa- 
lem indeed  was  troubled  at  the  time  of  the  Savior's 
birth,  but  no  man  accompanied  the  Wise  Men  to 
find  the  King  of  the  Jews.  As  the  Apostle  St.  John 
well  expresses  it:  "He  came  unto  His  own,  and  His 
own  received  Him  not." 

When  the  Wise  Men  discovered  the  Child  and 


THE  1*  SIGN 


His  Mother,  did  they  ask  the  question,  which  in  after 
years  would  be  heard  in  Pilate's  Hall:  "Art  Thou 
a  king?"  Did  they  read  in  the  helplessness, 
poverty,  and  humility  of  the  Holy  Child,  the  truth 
which  He  in  the  fullness  of  His  years  would  enunci- 
ate for  future  ages:  "My  kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world?''  The  Wise  Men  beheld  His  Sacred  Body 
trembling  from  weakness  and  from  cold,  as  one  day 
It  was  destined  to  trem- 
ble beneath  the  cutting 
lash.  They,  blessed  with 
wisdom  and  with  wealth, 
blushed  not  to  prostrate 
themselves  before  Him; 
but  a  day  would  come, 
alas!  when  the  meanest 
among  men  would  dare 
to  crown  Him  with  a 
crown  of  thorns,  and 
bending  the  knee  in  moc- 
kery would  raucously 
shout:  "Hail,  king  of  the 
Jews!"  The  Wise  Men 
opened  their  treasures 
and  offered  gifts  of  gold, 
frankincense,  and  myrrh 
to  their  Infant  King. 
How  different,  on  a  time, 
it  would  be  when  heart- 
less men  would  make 
ready  for  Him  the  cross, 
the  nails,  and  the  sponge 
soaked  with  vinegar  and 
gall! 

To  flee  the  danger 
of  King  Herod's  mad 
jealousy,  Joseph  sped 
into  Egypt  with  the 
Child  and  His  Mother; 
an  hour  would  come 
when  the  frenzied  jeal- 
ousy of  His  own  fellow-citizens  would  nail  this 
same  sweet  Babe  to  the  Cross  of  shame.  The  Wise 
Men  did  not  ask:  "Where  is  He  that  will  be  the 
king  of  the  Jews?"  But  they  demanded  to  know, 
with  a  confidence  accounted  for  only  by  supernatural 
inspiration  "Where  is  He  that  is  born  King  of  the 
Jews?"  Thus  in  no  uncertain  terms  did  they  pro- 
claim the  royal  blood  of  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem; 
thus  they  were  the  first  to  declare  the  truth,  which 
Pilate  was  to  publicly  flaunt  before  the  eyes  of  the 


Ingratitude 

"K" 

Those  fools  in  garbs  of  scarlet  d^es, 
Poor  sinners  flashing  lustful  e$es, 
Incant  a  prayer  of  Kate  and  glee: 
"Wkat  have  we  to  do  witk  Thee, 
TKou  wkite  robed  Christ?" 

But  let  ill-fortune  freeze  their  lust, 
They  seek  the  hem  that  skirts  the  dust 
Where  sinners  slouch  and  beggers  grcpe 
They"  snatch  at  Him,  their  passing  hope, 
Their  White  robed  Christ. 

They  take  from  Him  the  cure  implored, 
They  revel  in  their  strength  restored; 
They1  slink  away,  for  they  are  free: 
"What  further  need  have  we  of  Thee, 
Thou  white  robed  Christ?" 

They  strip  Him  of  His  seamless  dress, 
They  mock  His  modest  nakedness, 
And  shrieking  nail  him  to  the  tree: 
"What  have  w>e  to  do  with  Thee, 
Thou  pale  faced  Christ?" 


world,  against  the  protest  of  the  chief  priests,  by 
affixing  to  the  Cross  the  official  sign :  "Jesus  of 
Nazareth,  King  of  the  Jews." 

^^=^HE  Strangers  from  the  East  came  to  Judea, 
^SJ  seeking  the  King  of  the  Jews;  because,  said 
they,  "we  have  seen  His  star  in  the  East, 
and  are  come  to  adore  Him."  A  star  is  the  recog- 
nized symbol  of  Judaism 
and  is  displayed  above 
every  synagogue,  i  n 
much  the  same  manner 
as  the  cross  surmounts 
every  true  Christian 
church.  Judaism  is  the 
religion  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament, the  worship  of 
God  as  commanded  in 
the  Law,  the  Psalms,  and 
the  Prophets.  Now,  St. 
Luke  tells  us  in  the  last 
chapter  of  his  Gospel 
that  these  were  the  very 
books  which  Christ  Him- 
self quoted,  when  in- 
structing His  Apostles 
concerning  His  Passion 
and  Death. 

The  Jews,  therefore, 
were  not  without  a  star 
of  heavenly  origin,  a  star 
which,  had  it  been  heed- 
ed, would  have  led  them 
to  the  Cave  of  Bethle- 
hem. This  star  was  none 
other  than  the  luminous 
testament  of  their  own 
holy  books — the  Law, 
the  Psalms,  and  the  Pro- 
phets. This  star  vouch- 
safed to  the  Jews  would 
not  have  forsaken  them  at  Bethlehem ;  it  would  have 
guided  them  on  through  all  the  stages  of  the  Savior's 
life,  even  to  His  death  upon  the  cross.  In  the  light 
of  this  star,  they  would  have  seen  the  truth  of  the 
Governor's  proclamation:  "Jesus  of  Nazareth,  King 
of  the  Jews."  They  would  have  beheld  in  the  riven 
form  of  the  Nazarene  the  Descendant  of  the  royal 
house  of  David,  the  Desired  of  the  Prophets,  the 
Expected  of  Nations,  the  Savior  of  the  World. 

Epiphany  denotes  a  revelation  of  the  attributes 


THE  +  SIGN 


of  Christ's  Divinity.  Such  there  was  in  Bethlehem; 
for  when  the  Wise  Men  found  the  Child,  they  knelt 
before  Him  in  adoration  and  worshiped  Him.  Such 
there  is,  but  in  a  larger  measure,  in  His  Sacred 
Passion.  Here  the  Divinity  of  Christ  shines  in  full 
effulgence.  His  silence,  His  patience,  His  modesty, 
His  meekness,  His  humility,  His  obedience,  His 
whole  demeanor,  proclaim  Him  more  than  man,  and 
so  superior,  in  sooth,  that  the  pagan  governor  Pontius 
Pilate  is  constrained  to  ask:  "Whence  art  Thou?" 
So  strong  is  the  suffering  Christ's  manifestation  of 
His  Divinity  that  even  in  the  midst  of  His  dereliction 
on  Calvary,  His  Eternal  Sonship  is  declared  by  the 
voice  of  the  centurion:  "Truly  this  was  a  Just  Man. 
He  was  indeed  the  son  of  God!" 

Tradition  pictures  the  Wise  Men,  who  adored 
the  Divine  Child  in  Bethlehem,  as  Kings,  who 
returned  to  their  domains  to  preach  the  salvation  and 
peace,  which  the  Savior  brought  to  earth.  Like  unto 
them,  three  men  were  privileged  to  stand  on  Calvary 
and  by  openly  professing  their  belief  in  the  Man  of 
Sorrows  attained  to  the  kingship  of  Christ.  Dismas, 
the  Good  Thief,  who  was  crucified  with  Him,  spoke 
out  in  defense  of  His  innocence  and  prayed:  "Lord, 
remember  me,  when  Thou  shalt  come  into  Thy 
kingdom."  Thus  did  he  offer  to  his  Savior  the 
incense  of  his  prayer.  When  the  dying  Jesus  cried 
out  with  a  loud  voice,  with  a  cry  such  as  might 
have  gone  forth  from  a  man  in  the  full  vigor  of 
strength :  "It  is  finished"  the  Roman  centurion, 
amazed,  exclaimed:  "Indeed,  this  was  the  Son  of 
God!"  Thus  did  he  proffer  his  Redeemer  the  gold 
of  a  generous  faith.     The  wealthy  Jew,  Joseph  of 


Arimaihea,  went  boldly  to  Pilate  and  demanded 
the  Sacred  Body  of  Christ  and  reverently  taking  it 
from  the  Cross,  placed  it  in  his  own  newly  hewn 
monument.  Thus  did  Joseph  of  Arimathea  truly 
give  to  his  Crucified  Lord  the  gift  of  myrrh. 

HAITH  teaches  that  for  the  Wise  Men,  who 
Raveled  to  Bethlehem,  as  well  as  for  the 
staunch  disciples,  who  stood  beneath  the 
Cross,  there  took  place  yet  another  Epiphany — an 
Epiphany,  which  shall  be  never-ending — the  glorious 
fruition  of  God,  "face  to  face,"  in  Heaven. 

Their  mission  of  faith  accomplished,  the  Wise 
Men  evaded  the  enemies  of  the  Child,  going  back 
to  their  own  country  by  unfamiliar  but  less  hazard- 
ous roads.  Many  there  were,  who  in  idle  apathetic 
mood  swelled  the  throng  on  Calvary,  and  who 
returned  to  their  homes  shrinking  contact  with  the 
ribald  mob  to  live  their  lives  anew.  No  man  can 
witness  Christ's  manifestation  of  Himself  either  in 
the  Crib  or  on  the  Cross  and  withstand  the  appeal, 
without  being  endued  with  a  new  spirit  of  aloofness 
from  the  sordid  things  of  time. 

Close  not  your  eyes,  ye  who  yearn  for  light  and 
peace,  to  the  Epiphany  which  Christ  Jesus  vouch- 
safes at  every  step  of  His  earthly  sojourn.  Would 
you  be  wise  ?  Ponder  much  the  counsels  which 
radiate  from  the  Person  of  the  Word  Made  Flesh. 
Flee  the  old,  accustomed  haunts  of  sin.  Seek  out 
the  new  and  safer  paths,  which  upward  lead  to  the 
ecstatic  joy  of  the  beatific  vision  of  The  Eternal — 
the  Epiphany  of  "The  King  of  Kings,  and  Lord  of 
Lords." 


Violets 

Placidus  M.  Endler,  C.  P. 

Tkis  is  the  history,  and  it  is  true, 

Of  the  sweet  little  Violets'  heavenly1  hue: 
Blithe  Baby  Jesus  once  placed  hide — and — seek, 

— This  was  at  Nazareth  xtfhen  He  could  speak.  - 
Played  vJith  His  playmates  small, — O  it  was  fun 

Hiding  in  corners  avJay  from  the  sun! 
Each  time  He  waited  His  bright  ej)es  of  blue 

Laughed  tiny  tears  and  they  fell  and  they  grew. 


Hilaire   Belloc 

Defender  of  the  Faith 
Louis  H.  Wetmore 


^^^^HE  stout  and  magnificent  Gilbert  Chester- 
m  C}  ton,  Hilaire  Belloc's  boon  companion  of 
^^^V  the  old  fighting  days  in  London,  those 
days  which  brought  the  two  into  promi- 
nence and  touched  them  in  the  eyes  of  the  British 
public  with  the  unfading  light  of  high  romance,  has 
said  that  when  he  first  met  Belloc,  the  friend  who 
introduced  them  remarked  that  Belloc  was  in  low 
spirits.  But  Belloc's  low  spirits  were  and  are  much 
more  uproarious  and  enlivening  than  anybody  else's 
high  spirits.  He  talked  to  Chesterton  far  into  the 
night  and  left  behind  in  it  a  glowing  track  of  good 
things  "When  I  have  said  that,"  comments 
'G.  K.  C.,'  "I  mean  things  that  are  really  good 
and  certainly  not  merely  bons  mots.  I  have  said 
all  that  can  be  said  in  the  most  serious  aspect  about 
the  man  who  has  made  the  greatest  fight  for  good 
things  of  all  the  men  of  my  time.." 

My  own  experience  in  meeting  Belloc  was  the 
same  as  Chesterton's.  Whenever  one  meets  Belloc 
one  stands  on  the  brink  of  high  adventure.  With 
him  the  unexpected  always  happens.  Theologically 
speaking,  it  would  not  be  correct  to  say  that  with 
him  the  miraculous  always  happens;  but  certainly 
things  extraordinary  occur  to  him  and  to  you  when- 
ever you  are  in  his  company. 

As  Gilbert  Chesterton  is  the  laziest  man  on  earth, 
so  Belloc  is  the  most  active.  He  does  not  simply 
go  from  place  to  place.  He  flies  from  one  place  to 
another.  I  have  suspected  him  of  a  power  like  unto 
that  wielded  by  Joseph  of  Copertino  in  getting  rapid- 
ly from  place  to  place.  He  is  always  where  he 
isn't  expected.  He  often  turns  up  when  you  do  not 
expect  him.  And,  be  it  said  in  mild  criticism,  often 
does  not  turn  up  when  you  do  expect  him.  There  is 
no  doubt  that  he  has  walked  over  most  of  Europe 
and  part  of  Africa — proof  of  this  is  in  his  books, 
"The  Path  to  Rome,"  "Esto  Perpetua,"  "The  Pyre- 
nees," "The  Four  Men,"  etc.  Yet  in  all  my  experi- 
ence of  him,  I  never  saw  him  walk  anywhere. 
Whenever  I  saw  him  outside  the  four  walls  of  a 
house  he  was  taxi-ing  at  reckless  speed  hither  and 
thither.  Chesterton  professes  love  of  the  hansom- 
cab,  and  the  leisurely  gait  of  the  cab-horse;  though 
since  the  morning  he  was  hurled  into  space  from 


one  of  these  doubtful  vehicles,  his  devotion  for  them 
has  waned.  Belloc  has  written  feelingly  of  the 
virtues  of  hansom  cabs.  But  he  moves  in  taxis.  I 
suspect  at  times  that  he  lives  in  taxis.  If  I  had  not 
with  mine  own  eyes  seen  him  in  his  house  in  Sussex, 
I  would  believe  that  delightful  mansion  a  mere  myth. 

XHAVE  said  that  Belloc  always  moves  "in" 
a  taxi.  I  should,  perhaps,  have  said  "out" 
of  a  taxi.  He  is  always  out  of  a  taxi  in  the 
sense  that  he  is  always  hanging  out  of  the  window 
urging  the  driver  to  greater  speed  or  advising  him 
expertly  as  to  shorter  cuts  through  the  twisted  ways 
of  London.  He  is  an  expert  in  finding  short  cuts, 
through  the  twisted  ways  of  London.  He  is  an 
expert  in  finding  short  cuts,  through  philosophical 
tangles  as  well  as  through  the  streets  of  the  English 
metropolis.  There  is  driving  force  in  the  man  that 
gets  him  to  a  place  while  others  are  painfully  strug- 
gling on  the  way. 

Now  what  is  this  Belloc,  this  half  of  that  weird 
Catholic  animal  dubbed  The  Chesterbelloc  by 
Bernard  Shaw  (to  indicate  the  inseparableness  of 
the  two  friends  and  their  continued  agreement 
through  long  years  on  most  fundamentals  and  acci- 
dentals of  thought)  ?  He  is  a  poet.  He  is  an 
historian.  He  is  an  artist  in  black  and  white.  He 
is  an  essayist.  He  is  a  critic  of  wars  and  military 
tactics  and  affairs.  He  is  or  has  been  a  soldier,  a 
Member  of  the  British  Parliament,  editor  of  the 
daily  and  weekly  press,  a  University  professor, 
lecturer  on  private  and  public  platforms,  writer  of 
books  of  history,  biography,  travel,  pilgrimage,  art 
criticism,  literary  criticism,  books  for  children  in 
verse  and  prose,  etc.,  etc.  There  is  hardly  a  field 
of  human  endeavor  he  has  not  touched  and,  in  the 
touching,  glorified. 

Let  me  sketch  briefly  his  origins  and  career.  His 
career  is  the  story  of  a  swift,  dogmatic  and  intense 
life. 

There  is  a  plentiful  amount  of  soldierly  blood  in 
Belloc's  veins.  Four  of  his  great-uncles  were 
generals  under  Napoleon  I.  One  of  them  was  lost 
on  the  retreat  from  Moscow.  Another  died  at  the 
age  of  thirty-three  at  Waterloo.     To  turn  back  to 


THE  +  SIGN 


the  father  of  his  grandmother,  we  find  an  interesting 
person  in  Colonel  Swanton  of  the  Irish  brigade  in 
the  service  of  France.  Belloc  thus  has  Irish  blood 
in  him  as  well  as  English  and  French,  though  even 
Swanton 's  Irish  descent  must  have  been  remote  at 
the  time  he  fought  with  Marshal  Soult  at  Corunna, 
and  secured  as  "spoil"  after  the  battle  the  two 
pistols  of  Sir  John  Moore  (immortalized  in  English 
verse  through  Charles  Wolfe's  poem).  This  inter- 
esting man  was 
certainly  unique 
in  this :  that  while 
he  wore  the  red 
coat  of  the  Brit- 
ish army  (which, 
oddly  enough,  the 
Irish  brigade  in 
French  service  al- 
ways clung  to), 
he  wore  also  the 
Croix  de  S.  Louis 
which  he  had  won 
under  the  Bour- 
bons, as  well  as 
the  Legion  of 
Honor  which  he 
had  won  under 
Napoleon  as  Em- 
peror! His  son, 
by  name  Armand, 
was  wounded  as  a 
captain  at  Water- 
loo fighting  Prus- 
sians and  English. 
His  daughter  in 
turn,  Louise  Marie 
Swanton,  was  well 
known  in  Anglo- 
French  society, 
and  her  great  ling- 
ual gifts  made  her 
the  natural  trans- 
later  into  French 

of  Moore's  "Life  of  Byron,"  "Uncle  Tom's  Cabin," 
and  some  of  Dickens'  novels.  Louise  Marie  Swan- 
ton's  husband  was  an  artist,  Hilaire  Belloc  the 
elder,  son  of  a  planter  of  Martinique.  There  is 
a  portrait  of  him  in  the  Louvre,  and  there  is  a  bust 
of  him  as  artist  and  curator  in  the  Luxembourg 
gallery. 

At    the    age    of   nine    this    elder    Hilaire    saw 


HILAIRE    BELLOC 


Robespierre  on  the  way  to  the  guillotine!  Their 
sori,  Louis  Swanton  Belloc,  a  lawyer  by  profession, 
married  at  the  famous  Catholic  church  in  Spanish 
Place,  London,  in  1867,  the  very  year  of  her  conver- 
sion to  the  Faith,  Bessie  Raynor  Parkes,  daughter 
of  Joseph  Parkes,  a  well  known  figure  among  the 
group  of  philosophic  Radicals  of  the  time  of  Lord 
John  Russell  and  John  Stuart  Mill.  As  grand- 
daughter of  the  famous  Joseph  Priestly,  the  dis- 
coverer of  oxygen, 
she  was  welcomed 
by  a  high  circle 
of  literary  and 
Catholic  culture, 
and  was  the  friend 
of  Montalembert 
and  Dupanloup  on 
the  one  hand,  and 
of  Browning  and 
Rossetti  on  the 
other.  A  great 
part  of  her  life 
was  spent  travel- 
ling in  Europe 
seeking  health  for 
her  husband,  who 
died  when 
Belloc  was 
years  old. 

"Hilary1 
jilbert  Chesterton 
always  calls  him, 
insisting  on  the 
Anglicization  of 
his  name),  was 
born  at  Marly-le- 
Roi,  a  little  town 
near  Paris,  on 
July  27th,  1870. 
Thus  he  was  born 
in  the  year  of 
French  degrada- 
tion and  defeat. 
One  of  the  greatest  consolations  of  his  life,  as  I 
well  know,  is  the  fact  that  he  has  lived  to  see  that 
year's  disgrace  fade  into  the  glorious  victory  of 
1918.  His  mother  was  forty-two  years  old  when  he 
was  born,  and  after  her  husband's  death  two  years 
later,  she  moved  herself  and  her  son  and  family  to 
England,  where  she  settled  in  Sussex,  the  county  of 
all   beautiful   English  counties  which  Belloc  loves 


our 
two 

(as 


THE  1*  SIGN 


best,  and  where  he  still  lives;  the  county  of  which 
he  has  sung  so  rhapsodically  in  many  of  his  poems. 
(I  quote  but  one  verse  from  many: 

"But  the  men  that  live  in  the  South  country 

Are  the  kindest  and  most  wise. 

They  get  their  laughter  from  the  loud  surf, 

And  the  faith  in  their  happy  eyes 

Comes  surely  from  our  Sister,  the  Spring 

When  over  the  sea  she  flies; 

The  violets  suddenly  bloom  at  her  feet, 

She  blesses  us  with  surprise." 

aBSORBED  in  the  beauties  of  Sussex  during 
his  youth,  when  Belloc  became  of  age  for 
schooling,  he  was  sent  to  the  Oratory  School 
at  Edgbaston  over  which  Cardinal  Newman  paternal- 
ly "presided"  and  whom  Belloc  well  remembers. 
When  he  left  the  Oratory  School,  it  was  a  moot 
question  whether  he  would  announce  the  retention 
of  his  French  citizenship  by  serving  his  three  years 
in  the  French  army,  in  which  so  many  of  his  an- 
cestors had  fought.  This  was  not  of  obligation. 
Being  the  only  son  of  a  widow,  the  French  law  on 
military  service  did  not  bind  in  his  case.  But  there 
was  little  hesitation.  That  interest  in  and  instinct 
for  military  affairs,  which  had  been  one  of  the 
supreme  canalizers  of  his  life,  sent  him  across  the 
Channel  to  serve  under  the  Tricolor.  He  served  his 
three  years  in  the  Gallic  military  machine  as  a 
gunner,  and  not  a  very  good  gunner  at  that  according 
to  his  own  confession;  years  wherein  he  lived  rough 
and  had  for  companionship  but  his  nine  companion 
gunners  and  the  gun.  He  was  free  in  1890;  yet 
his  military  experience  tinged  his  whole  life.  What 
man  who  has  served  three  years  under  military 
discipline  and  in  the  companionship  of  arms  can  ever 
live  the  same  life  as  before  or  be  the  same  man? 
With  his  discharge  of  'service  rendered'  in  his  hand, 
the  ink  but  dry,  he  went  up  to  Oxford  to  complete 
his  education,  where  he  gained  by  way  of  entrance 
examinations  the  greatest  of  scholastic  prizes,  a 
Balliol  Brackenbury  Scholarship. 

There  was  nothing  of  the  wan,  pale,  aesthetic 
bespectacled  student  about  Belloc.  This  man,  whose 
scholarship  ranks  with  the  ripest  of  our  time,  rode, 
walked,  sang,  fought,  debated,  made  a  great  deal 
of  unnecessary  noise  and  indulged  in  many  unneces- 
sary pranks;  expressed  admiration  for  crowds  of 
friends,  a  good  dinner,  good  wine,  and  especially 
Washington  ale.  He  also  expressed  an  extreme 
dislike  of  Dons.     He  was  the  most  prominent  of 


Balliol  men;  that  is,  the  most  prominent  undergradu- 
ate in  Oxford.  His  sharp  criticisms  of  his  teachers 
and  his  fellow  students — he  fought  the  redoubtable 
Jewett  in  his  lair — his  witticisms,  were  tossed  with 
delight  from  one  college  to  another  and  were  the 
intellectual  stimulus  of  the  undergraduates  and  the 
pain  of  the  Dons  of  his  four  student  years.  Yet 
amid  all  this  popularity  and  clamor  he  found  time 
to  carry  off  a  "First  in  History"  and  other  important 
prizes  and  scholastic  awards. 

ON  graduating  he  devoted  himself  to  putting 
to  immediate  use  the  historical  knowledge 
he  had  gleaned  at  the  University,  coupled 
with  that  extraordinary  knowledge  and  appreciation 
of  European  topography,  culled  while  tramping  over 
all  Europe  and  part  of  Africa.  He  sprang  historical 
"surprises"  such  as  explaining  adequately  for  the 
first  time  the  real  reason  for  the  French  Revolution- 
ary armies  at  Valmy.  He  wrote  his  great  bio- 
graphies of  "Danton,"  "Robespierre,"  and  later 
"Marie  Antonette,"  the  quintessence  of  which  is 
concentrated  and  wonderfully  composed  in  his  suc- 
cessful and  ever  popular  history  of  the  French  Rev- 
lution  IE  the  Home  University  Library.  He  became 
in  time  literary  editor  of  the  "Morning  Post,"  the 
great  Conservative  and  later  "Unionist"  and  Ulster- 
supporting  daily  of  London.  (An  odd  place  to  find 
this  democrat  and  staunch  defender  of  Irish  republi- 
canism) !  He  contributed  to  that  journal  in  great 
part  those  gay  and  irrepressible  essays  that  were 
later  gathered  together  in  such  volumes  as  "First 
and  Last  Things,"  "On  Nothing,"  "On  Everything," 
"On  Something,"  etc.  He  published  satirical  novels 
on  the  corruption  in  English  political  life — such  as 
"Mr.  Clutterbuck's  Election,"  "Emanuel  Burden," 
and  "Pongo  and  the  Bull."  He  was  later  on  to 
become  Member  of  Parliament  from  Salford  and 
to  denounce  the  politicians  in  brief  but  pithy 
speeches  in  the  Mother  of  Parliaments  itself. 

I  cannot  dwell  on  all  his  books — space  and 
the  editors  forbid — but  in  passing,  I  must  mention 
those  wonderful  little  historical  vignettes  gathered 
under  the  title  of  "The  Eye-Witness,"  which  no 
other  historian  in  England  could  have  given  us.  Nor 
must  I  omit  those  delightful  books  of  travel  and 
pilgrimage,  by  which  he  is  most  popularly  known, 
the  exquisite  and  gay  "Path  to  Rome,"  "The  Four 
Men,"  "Esto  Perpetua,"  "Hills  and  the  Sea,"  and 
"The  Pyrenees."  There  are  also  his  series  on  the 
historic  landways  and  waterways  of  England,  "The 


THE  1*  SIGN 


Historic  Thames,"  "The  Old  Road,"  and  "Stane 
Street."  Not  to  pass  over  lightly  (for  how  can  one 
omit  anything  since  all  are  important?)  his  volumes 
on  Paris  and  other  cities,  mingled  with  his  study 
of  the  Bayeaux  Tapestry  and  his  volume  of  critical 
essays  on  the  poetry  of  the  early  French  Renais- 
sance. In  this  country  he  is  now,  perhaps,  best 
known  by  his  recently  published  volume  "Europe 
and  the  Faith"  in  which  the  gift  of  historical  detail 
and  perspective,  coupled  with  a  militant  Catholicism, 
are  best  shown,  especially  in  the  ending  to  the 
volume:  "Europe  is  the  Faith  and  the  Faith  is 
Europe.  Europe  will  return  to  the  Faith  or  Europe 
will  perish." 

^^=^HE  post-University  and  pre-marital  period  of 
K^J  his  life  ended  in  his  voyage  to  America,  and 
out  to  California,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five, 
where  he  met  the  charming  Californian  lady  who 
became  his  wife;  and  his  settling  in  the  parish  of 
Shipley,  near  Horsham,  Sussex.  From  this  home 
he  has  planned  and  executed  those  fierce  raids 
against  the  atheist  and  Protestant  Dons  of  the 
Universities,  against  the  politicians  and  literary 
quacks  and  perverters  of  European  history;  raids 
and  a  warfare  which  have  aroused  the  bitter  ire  of 
the  "authorities"  in  schools  and  press  and  the  bull- 
ring of  politics,  and  led  to  frequent  attempts  to 
suppress  him.  But  Belloc  is  irrepressible.  He 
waved  aside  their  conspiracies  and  attacks  and 
raided  their  territories  again.  (Certainly  he  deserves 
the  title  of  Fidei  Defensor  more  than  the  present 
King  of  England!)  He  has  brought  the  Ages  of 
Faith,  their  creed  and  philosophy,  into  the  Twentieth 
Century — an  unpardonable  affront  to  modern  jacka- 
nape  learning!  He  attacked  in  book  and  in  the 
columns  of  his  weekly  paper  "The  Eye-Witness" 
(later  "The  New  Witness"  under  the  editorship  of 
the  late  Cecil  Chesterton,  "G.  K.  C.'s"  younger 
brother)  religious  quacks  and  professorial  blunder- 
ers in  the  science  of  history,  corrupters  of  politics 
and  still  more  corrupt  newspaper  editors,  the  nou- 
veau  riches  (his  particular  bete  noir)  and  others  of 
the  like  ilk.  The  men  and  women  in  power— 
these  suicidal  modern  thinkers  and  would-be  states- 
men who  pervert  the  past,  corrupt  the  present  and 
endanger  the  future — did  all  within  their  power  to 
destroy  his  reputation  with  the  public  as  historian, 
editor,  and  economist.  Yet  he  swept  them  all  aside 
and  himself  into  a  still  more  public  fame  and  popu- 
larity in  1914,  when  he  appeared  on  public  platforms 


throughout  all  of  England,  and  in  the  columns  of 
"Land  and  Water,"  as  the  premier  military  critic 
of  the  late  war. 

He  did  not  want  to  be  a  mere  critic  of  the  war. 
He  wished  to  take  part  in  the  war.  He  tried  to  be 
sent  to  the  front  as  a  combatant,  though  above 
serviceable  age.  But  "they"  would  not  have  him 
there.  He  knew  too  much ;  had  too  sharp  eyes  and 
too  sharp  a  tongue.  Those  in  authority  love  only 
the  blind  and  the  lame  around  them.  I  have  in  my 
possession  a  letter  of  his  in  which  he  says :  "I  am 
trying  to  be  sent  to  the  front.  But  some  enemy  is 
preventing  it.  But  I  may  be  able  to  go  through 
the  French  Embassy  here."  That  wish  was  never 
granted 

The  first  time  I  met  Belloc  he  arrived  in  a  taxi. 
I  believe  that  he  had  taken  that  taxi  all  the  way 
from  his  house  in  Sussex  up  to  London —  a  matter 
of  a  mere  forty  or  fifty  miles,  you  know!  He  came 
into  my  room  at  a  London  hotel.  The  door  flew  open 
and  he  was  there.  He  was  (this  in  1914)  strongly 
built,  almost  stout  (he  has  lost  in  later  middle  age 
the  handsome  features  and  the  slim  figure  of  the 
early  days) — with  the  forward  lunge  of  the  orator, 
full  of  gesture  and  animation.  He  has  a  round 
French  head  pillared  on  a  thick  neck,  denoting 
energy.  His  expression  is  open,  generous,  serious 
and  determined.  The  mouth  has  evidently  been 
closed  with  a  snap.  Wide  eyes,  of  the  type  that  are 
called  "direct."  In  his  dress  there  is  a  certain 
negligence,  yet  it  fully  indicates  his  social  position. 
Nothing  "Bohemian"  about  him  or  of  that  picturesque 
sloppiness  manifest  in  the  portly  Chesterton;  a 
man  of  the  upper  middle  class  or  the  lower  upper 
class,  as  you  will.  Cavalierly  but  decently  dressed. 
He  looks  better  in  morning  dress.  In  the  high  hat  of 
fashion  and  the  striped  trousers  and  long  coat  of 
London  afternoon  teas,  Sunday  mornings  in  Hyde 
Park  or  luncheons  at  the  Ritz,  he  is  unimpressive. 
(I  once  saw  him  dressed  in  this  manner,  and  irresis- 
tably  yet  oddly  enough  he  reminded  me  of  an 
undertaker!)  He  gives  the  impression  of  mature 
self-respect,  which  appears  also  in  his  conversation, 
though  at  times  he  gives  way  to  irritation  and  bit- 
ternesses in  talk,  end  even  vulgar  phraseology  when 
aroused  by  sham  or  hypocrisy  or  anger.  Save 
when  suppressing  an  adversary  in  debate,  public 
or  private,  which  he  does  with  an  irony  that  hurts, 
his  speech  has  little  violence,  though  much  anima- 
tion and  vigor.  There  is  a  tang  as  of  salt  in  his 
character.     He  cannot  hide  his  vigor,  his  opinions 


THE  1*  SIGN 


or  his  determination.  He  gives  no  sense  of  repose. 
His  voice  is  loud  even  when  he  himself  is  subdued. 
It  is  of  the  kind  that  fills  great  halls,  deep  and 
almost  hostile. 

His  faults  are  manifestly  on  the  surface.  He 
is  at  times  too  idealistic  (though  fundamentally  a 
pessimist  in  mental  make-up),  too  much  absorbed 
in  the  immediate  matter  on  hand.  Being  an  idealist 
he  is  naturally  intolerant,  especially  of  stupidity 
(a  great  many  people  are  d —  fools,  apparently!). 
He  is  too  full  of  an  emphasis  and  energy  that 
produce  sudden  oaths,  over-strained  action,  a 
rhetoric  filled  with  ferocious  adjectives.  Nervous, 
high  strung,  splendidly  witty  and  amusing,  full  of 
laughter  and  fun,  loyal  to  friends  and  with  intense 
love  of  them  and  their  company.  Who  can  doubt 
that  latter  statement  who  knows  him  or  who  has 
read  his  poem  to  the  Balliol  men  in  Africa  during 
the  Boer  War? 

At  that  meeting  we  grasped  hands,  expressed 
mutual  pleasure  at  being  acquainted,  and  arranged 
to  meet  again  in  a  few  days  time  at  his  country 
house  at  Horsham.  He  was  out  of  the  room  a 
moment  later — downstairs :  a  few  seconds  later  a 
taxicab  whirred  away  from  the  hotel  door. 

(That  man's  taxi  bills  must  be  enormous!) 

X  VISITED  him  in  due  course  at  his  country 
house.  I  went  much  in  the  spirit  of  a  pil- 
grimage. I  owe  much  to  Belloc.  To  him 
and  to  Gilbert  Chesterton  I  really  owe  my  conver- 
sion to  the  Faith.  I  wondered  what  this  Bellocian 
home  would  be  like.  I  could  not  imagine.  I  was 
not  disappointed.  A  low-lying  house  hidden  in  trees 
yet  rather  abruptly  on  the  road.  A  hard  house  to 
get  to — miles  away  from  any  railroad  station.  I 
had  to  taxi  some  ten  miles  from  the  nearest  station 
to  reach  it.  It  is  different  in  all  respects  from 
Chesterton's  house  at  Beaconsfield,  Buckingham- 
shire, which  is  but  a  few  hundred  yards  from  his 
station.  But  then  Chesterton  would  never  reach 
his  station  from  his  house  if  any  distance  away. 
He  would  be  too  lazy  to  start,  or  if  he  did  start  for 
it,  he  would  lose  his  way.  Fortunately  for  Chester- 
ton, one  merely  rolls  down  a  hill  from  his  back  door 
and  one  hits  the  station.  (The  station  at  Beacons- 
field  shows  splendid  dents  where  "G.  K.  C."  has 
literally  rolled  down  from  his  back  door  in  gigantic 
haste  to  catch  a  train  for  which  he  was,  as  always, 
very  late.)  The  Chestertons'  house  is  a  brick  house, 
too  small  for  him  (possibly  because  he  dwarfs  the 


rooms  thereof  by  his  great  size.)  Belloc's  is  an 
old  Elizabethan  house — at  least  in  appearance — and 
just  the  right  size. 

ON  arrival  one  tumbles  out  of  a  taxi  and  into 
the  "hall"  by  way  of  the  front  door.  (At 
Chesterton's  house  I  always  went  in  through 
the  back  door:  it  was  the  first  door  I  came  to.) 
Here  mine  host  greets  one  with  an  offer  of  "a  glass 
of  really  good  wine — bottle  it  myself — from  France." 
The  wine  is  good.  The  "hall",  a  large  square  room, 
is  also  the  library,  filled  from  ceiling  to  floor  with 
books.  There  are  hundreds  of  books.  Belloc  lives 
on  books  and  with  books,  makes  his  living  writing 
books;  yet  is  in  no  way  a  bookish  person  in  the 
bookwormy  sense. 

We  pass  into  the  study,  a  small  room  on  the  left 
of  the  hall,  in  which  a  woman  typist  is  very  busy 
typewriting.  There  is  a  profusion  of  papers  and 
manuscripts  all  over  the  desk.  Belloc  offers  me  the 
services  of  his  stenographer  should  I  care  to  write 
an  article  or  so  during  the  few  hours  I  shall  be  with 
him!  But  I  am  not  there  for  work;  and  articles  do 
not  "happen"  to  me  so  spontaneously  and  inspira- 
tionally  as  they  do  to  Belloc,  who  will  dash  off  a 
few  by  dictation  before  breakfast.  I  refuse  the 
offer.  We  go  upstairs,  and  he  shows  me  his  wife's 
room,  untouched  since  her  death.  (There  is  a  tragedy 
here.)  Next  comes  the  quaint  chapel  with  Our 
Blessed  Lord  present  in  His  Tabernacle;  for  Belloc 
has  the  great  privlege  of  reservation  of  the  Blessed 
Sacrament  in  his  home.  Belloc  is  above  all  else  a 
Catholic — a  thorough-going,  militant,  devout  Catho- 
lic. And  his  home  is  a  Catholic  home,  blessed  with 
children.  (His  boy  was  away  at  school  at  Down- 
side Abbey,  but  two  charming  daughters  of  nine  or 
ten  were  there.)  The  whole  house  with  its  Elizabe- 
than architecture  and  Jacobean  touches  reminded  me 
instinctively  of  the  homes  of  the  Catholic  squires  of 
the  times  of  bad  Queen  Bess,  when  Catholic  men 
and  women  lived  in  terror  of  pursuivants  and  where 
hunted  priests  sought  refuge.  There  may  not  be 
priests'  hiding  holes  in  Belloc's  house — I  saw  none. 
But  the  whole   atmosphere   of  the   place   suggests 

them  emphatically 

I  have  not  space  in  this  article  to  do  more  than 
give  this  brief  personal  sketch  of  "H.  B.",  with  a 
resume  of  his  antecedents  and  his  surroundings.  I 
cannot  delve  into  criticism  and  appreciations  of  his 
literary  style  or  his  economic  and  philosophic  views. 
One  could  easily  write  a  volume  of  five  hundred 


THE  t  SIGN 


pages  about  Belloc  and  still  leave  much  unsaid.  Nor 
can  I  here  narrate  some  of  the  adventures  I  have  had 
with  him  and  brother  Chesterton — such  as  the  extra- 
ordinary adventure  of  Chesterton's  hat,  which  was 
lost  and  searched  for  all  over  London,  only  to  be 
found  at  last  on  its  owner's  head! 

The  difficulty  is :  to  sum  up  Belloc  in  a  phrase. 
To  sum  up  in  a  phrase  is  to  emphasize  the  dominant 
note  in  a  man's  work:  it  is  to  select  the  salient 
point  of  his  philosophy.  When  you  say  that  Belloc 
is  a  Catholic  in  all  his  writings  and  in  all  his  doings, 
you  say  much  and  explain  much.  But  you  can  say 
the  same  thing  of  many  writers.  Belloc's  work  is 
too  diversified  to  be  expressed  in  a  few  concise 
words.  To  attempt  to  appreciate  him  at  all 
adequately,  it  is  necessary  to  analyze  every  one  of 
his  writings. 

^tt^ITH  this  warning,  I  shall  attempt  to  find — if 
\ll  it  can  be  found — the  central  and  dominating 
interest  of  his  life,  the  prime  key  to  his 
activity.  I  think  that  this  can  be  found,  with 
modifications,  in  the  fact  that  he  is  primarily  an 
historian.  History  is  his  dominant  passion  and  the 
most  important  field  for  his  work.  To  him  history 
is  the  touchstone  to  life.  If  one  knows  the  history 
of  the  world,  one  knows  the  way  out  of  present 
difficulties  through  judging  the  experiences  of  men 
in  the  past  under  more  or  less  similar  circumstances. 
History  does  not  repeat  itself.  But  a  sufficent 
number  of  almost  similar  occurances  recur  through- 
out the  historic  ages  to  warrant  using  them  as  a 
criterion  of  present  conduct.  The  impartial  historian 
is  the  great  democrat.  He  allows  the  dead  to  vote 
with  the  living  on  every  question  that  occurs  for 
modern  solution. 

The  guideposts  of  modern  men  are  all  too  often 
but  question  marks.  Too  many  modern  philosophers, 
like  William  James,  Bergson,  and  Balfour  ask  more 
questions  than  they  give  answers,  and  suggest  more 
difficulties  than  they  give  solutions.  God  to  the 
Modern  remains  mute  to  Man's  queries,  and  assumes 
fantastic  shapes  in  the  writings  of  Shaw  and  Wells. 
Tradition  and  authority,  which  are  based  on  true 
historical  knowledge,  and  which  are  respectively  the 
taking  of  the  ballots  of  the  dead  and  of  the  living, 
are  ignored  in  modern  philosophical  and  historical 
writings.  But  Belloc  has  complete  Catholicity  of 
outlook.     His  reverence  for  tradition  and  authority 


are  cardinal  points  in  all  his  approaches  to  the 
troublesome  problems  of  the  day.  By  way  of 
history  Belloc  stands  on  the  mountains  of  the  great 
achievements  of  the  past  and  sees  and  criticizes  the 
molehills  of  present  day  achievements.  He  is  no 
friend  of  "re-action"  in  the  vulgar  sense.  But  he 
maintains  solidly  that  the  future  must  contain  the 
results  of  the  great  achievements  of  the  Roman  and 
Middle  Ages,  which  achievements  can  be  judged  and 
applied  to  present  wants  only  through  the  medium 
and  use  of  history. 

Even  a  casual  glance  through  a  book  of  his 
essays  will  reveal  what  I  am  here  emphasizing.  In 
his  collection  of  essays  entitled  "On  Anything" 
appear  these  lines : 

"History  may  be  called  the  test  of  true  philoso- 
phy, or  it  may  be  called  in  a  very  modern  and  not 
very  dignified  metaphor  the  object-lesson  of  political 
science,  or  it  may  be  called  the  great  story  whose 
interest  is  upon  another  plane  from  all  other  stories 
because  its  irony,  its  tragedy  and  its  moral  are  real, 
were  acted  by  real  men,  and  were  the  manifestation 
of  God." 

The  Catholic  historian  in  Britain  has  always 
lived  under  intense  suspicion.  Lingard  is  not  read 
in  Protestant  Universities,  and  is  ignored  by  the 
mass  of  educated  Protestant  people.  Even  poor  old 
Acton,  that  pathetic  figure,  who  secured  much  of  his 
historic  learning  through  Protestant  and  especially 
Lutheran  folios,  is  vaguely  suspected  of  being  in 
some  dark  manner  allied  with  the  Jesuits.  Acton 
was  partially  admitted  into  Protestant  intellectual 
circles  because  of  his  smug  Whig  bias  and  the  sus- 
picion that  he  wasn't  a  very  good  Catholic  after  all. 
Lingard,  as  I  have  said,  was  ignored.  Belloc  they 
have  tried  to  ignore,  these  Protestant  and  atheist 
Dons  and  Professors.  But  the  real  triumph  of  the 
man  has  been  this:  that  in  spite  of  their  effort  to 
ignore  him,  they  have  been  unable  to  keep  silence 
about  him.  He  has  forced  them  into  the  open  and 
has  forced  recognition  of  his  historic  genius  from 
the  darkest  dens  of  Oxford  "learning."  He  says 
frankly  on  every  page  of  his  writings:  "I  am  a 
Catholic.  I  believe  in  the  dogmas  of  the  Church  of 
Rome."  This  would  have  killed  enthusiasm  and 
reverence  among  the  English  public  for  any  other 
historic  writer.  Belloc  almost  alone  among  modern 
English  Catholic  writers  has  caught  the  attention  of 
Protestant  England  and  America  and  held  it. 


Saints   and   Sinners 


Luis   Coloma,  S.  J. 


Copyrighted  1921,  by  The  Sign 


Chapter   1 


"^^^>HE  two  towers  of  the  College  were  like 
d  (T\  arrows  piercing  the  serene  sky,  of  that  blue 
^l  J  which  spreads  over  Madrid  during  the  first 
^^^days    of    the  


month  of  June.  The 
greenness  of  the  Col- 
lege garden  made  it 
seem  an  emerald  fal- 
len in  the  sand  of  a 
desert,  an  oasis  of  li- 
lacs starting  to  wither 
and  of  lilies  commenc- 
ing their  bloom,  all 
lost  in  the  arid  plain 
that  stretches  on  all 
sides  around  the  Col- 
lege to  the  Court  of 
Spain.  One  could 
hear  the  happy  voices 
of  the  children  inside 
the  buildings,  and  the 
chirping  of  the  linnets 
in  the  trees,  mingling 
with  the  sound  of  soft 
fountains  playing. 
Outside  the  College 
gates  there  was  nei- 
ther water  nor  chil- 
dren; only  the  bleak 
plain  and,  far  away  on 
the  horizon,  Madrid 
and  the  Court  of 
Spain,  the  towers  of 
the  city  just  appear- 
ing in  that  faint  mist 
which  gathers  on  dis- 
tant horizons,  a  vapor 
which  arises  from 
great  cities  like  the 
haze  that  comes  from 
a  stagnant  pool. 


JI/ITH  this  issue  of  THE  SIGN  begins 
yy  the  first  installment  of  SAINTS 
AND  SINNERS,  a  novel  by  the  dis- 
tinguished Spanish  lesuit,  Father  Luis 
Coloma..  In  SAINTSAND  SINNERS,  the 
author  draws  for  us  a  picture  of  contempor- 
ary Spanish  life.  It  is  the  peculiar  merit  of 
this  novel,  a  merit  which  stamps  it  at  once  as 
one  of  the  great  works  of  the  period,  that  in 
giving  a  picture  of  social  conditions  in  Spain, 
it  is  accurately  mirroring  conditions  that 
exist  in  the  whole  of  Western  Civilization. 

The  scene  might  have  been  set  in  New 
York  or  London,  as  well  as  in  the  Spanish 
metropolis.  Beneath  Spanish  features  and 
Spanish  names  are  to  be  found  both  Saints 
and  Sinners,  such  as  we  meet  at  our  own 
door.  Father  Luis  Coloma,  S.  J.,  is  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Royal  Spanish  Academy.  He, 
not  Ibanez,  is  Spain's  greatest  novelist.  He 
is  something  more  than  a  romancer.  He  is 
pre-eminently  the  missionary,  whose  know- 
ledge of  the  human  heart  is  such  as  is  had 
only  by  the  priest.  He  writes  not  merely  to 
entertain,  much  less  to  debase,  but  to  con- 
vey a  wholesome  lesson,  which  will  save 
the  unwary  from  the  many  snares  that  are 
set  for  their  feet. 

The  singular  charm  of  the  original 
Spanish  has  been  retained  in  the  English 
translation,  owing  to  the  good  fortune  of 
THE  SIGN  in  having  Thomas  Walsh  as 
translator.  Mr.  Walsh  is  the  official  trans- 
lator of  the  Spanish-American  Society. 
Mr.  Louis  H.  Wetmore,  former  literary 
editor  of  The  New  York  TIMES,  is  editing 
the  translation. 


J^rllS  day  the  Col- 
IJ  lege  was  clos- 
^■"^  ing.  The  distri- 
bution of  the  school  prizes  had  taken  place,  and  the 
time  had  now  come  for  leave  taking.  On  every  side 
were  heard  gay  good-byes,  congratulations  and  mess- 
ages;   mothers    and    fathers    and   children   moving 


hither  and  thither  in  great  confusion,  invading  all 

the  rooms  of  the  College;    everything  mingling  in 

that   tumultuous   delight   gathered    into   the   magic 

word  "  Vacation"  wh  ich 

awakens    joy    in    the 

student  of  all  ages. 

The  Commence- 
ment had  been  most 
brilliant.  A  platform, 
set  at  the  lower  end  of 
a  long  hall,  was  occu- 
pied by  some  hundred 
students  of  the  Col- 
lege, in  their  blue  and 
silver  uniforms;  they 
were  searching  with 
bright  eyes  and  red 
cheeks  for  fathers, 
mothers,  sisters,  bro- 
thers, who  were  in 
other  parts  of  the  hall 
as  witnesses  of  their 
triumphs.  The  plat- 
form was  dominated 
by  a  splendid  picture 
of  the  Mater  Dolorosa, 
Our  Lady  of  Sorrow- 
ful Remembrance,  pa- 
troness of  the  College. 
Presiding  over  the 
ceremonies,  the  Car- 
dinal Archbishop  of 
Toledo  sat  at  the  right 
surrounded  by  the 
Rector  and  teachers  of 
the  College. 

The  rest  of  the 
hall  was  filled  with 
parents  and  relatives 
of  the  children,  Gran- 
dees of  Spain  next  to 
the  merchant's  wife, 
all  contented  and  hap- 
py and  taking  in  the 
scene  with  manifest 
enjoyment.  The  orchestra  opened  the  ceremonies 
with  the  overture  from  "Semiramis."  The  Rector 
of  the  College,  the  glory  and  honor  of  the  Society 
to  which  he  belonged,  commenced  a  short  speech, 


THE  *f  SIGN 


which  he  could  not  conclude.  Looking  at  the  mass 
of  little  brown  and  light  haired  boys,  crowded  to- 
gether like  the  angels  of  a  Murillo  masterpiece, 
he  began  to  stammer.  Tears  broke  in  upon  his 
speech : — 

"I  am  not  crying  because  you  are  leaving  but 
because  so  very  many  of  you  will  never  return," 
he  said. 

The  little  heads  shook  vigorous  negatives,  and 
spontaneous  applause  came  from  two  hundred  little 
hands,  as  a  protest  against  his  words,  which  forced 
the  old  man  to  smile  through  his  tears.  The  Prefect 
of  the  College  now  read  the  list  of  the  pupils  who 
had  received  the  coveted  prizes.  These,  bashful, 
blushing,  yet  proud,  rose  and  went  forward  to 
receive  their  medals  and  diplomas  from  the  hands 
of  the  Archbishop,  while  their  companions  applaud- 
ed loudly,  and  fathers'  and  mothers'  eyes  lighted 
up  with  love  and  pride  in  the  triumph  of  their 
children. 

DOW  the  exercises  seemed  to  have  reached  a 
logical  conclusion  and  the  Archbishop  was 
about  to  rise  to  give  the  blessing,  when  a 
child  as  exquisite  and  fair  as  one  of  Fra  Angelico's 
angels,  came  forward  to  the  center  of  the  platform. 
In  the  splendor  of  his  youth  and  innocence  was 
achieved  that  aristocratic  and  delicately  shaded 
quality  which  in  the  children  of  fine  families  attracts 
and  subjugates. 

Amid  a  profound  silence  all  movement  ceased. 
The  boy  then  turned  toward  the  picture  of  Our 
Lady  of  Sorrows  and  in  an  angel's  voice  commenced 
to  recite: 

0  sweet  remembrance  of  the  past, 
Thy  blessing  on  thy  sons  departing; 
O  Virgin  Sorrowful,  at  last 
Receive  our  farewell  tear-drops  starting, 
And  pray  remember  me! 

A  movement  as  of  applause  came  from  the 
group  of  children  as  though  they  would  give  assent 
to  these  sentiments.  The  parents  did  not  applaud: 
they  listened  immovable.  The  boy  took  two  steps 
forward  and  lifting  his  little  hands  before  his 
breast,  continued   quietly: 

The  world,  they  say,  a  garden  fair, 
Conceals  an  asp  beneath  each  flower; 
In  sweetest  fruit  lurks  poison  there; 
Mid  earthly  tides  the  sharp  rocks  glower. 
And  why  should  such  things  be? 

They  say  for  gold  and  idle  fame 
Men's  hearts  grown  faithless,  cold  and  mean, 
Dry  up  their  springs  of  love,  in  blame 
To  God  and  country  traitors  seen, — 
And  why  should  such  things  be  ? 

They  say  that  for  life's  painful  thorn 
They  would  embrace  but  joy  and  feast : 


That  hence  thy  sorrow  there  are  born 
The  tears  thy  lovely  eyes  released — 
And  why  should  such  things  be  ? 

QMONG  the  mothers  some  blushed  as  though 
their  consciences  spoke  through  the  boy's 
lips.  Several  men  bowed  their  heads,  and 
one  old  man  said  to  another:  "Quite  true!  Yes, 
yes!"  The  child  himself  seemed  moved  as  an  angel 
might  be  stirred  at  the  sight  of  so  much  human 
misery.  He  shooked  his  head,  folded  his  hands  and 
continued  slowly: 

The  while  I  turn  unto  thy  call, 
Ennobled  in  the  love  I  bear, 
The  burning  love  that  holds  my  all, 
The  love  so  often  I  declare, — 
Thou  wilt  remember  me! 

Yea,  thou,  Sweet  Mother,  when  the  hour 
Shall  call  me  to  thy  fond  embrace, 
Within  the  heavenly  lighted  bower, 
Keep  me  forever  at  thy  face, 
Forever  in  the  heart  of  thee! 

The  child  stopped.  There  was  no  applause, 
only  a  sob  as  though  from  a  thousand  breasts 
through  a  single  throat,  expressing  mingled  feelings 
of  shame,  tenderness,  love,  repentance,  which  the 
sweet  voice  of  the  boy  had  stirred  in  those  hearts. 

At  a  signal  from  the  Father  Rector  all  the  boys 
on  the  platform  rushed  down  to  their  parents,  and 
a  confusion  of  cries  and  kisses  was  heard.  Only 
the  lad  who  had  recited  the  poem  remained  quietly 
in  his  seat,  without  mother  or  father  to  welcome  him. 
He  cast  a  short  glance  at  the  happy  groups  of 
parents  and  of  children,  slipped  from  the  platform 
with  the  prizes  in  his  hands,  and  went  down  the  long 
hall  slowly,  out  to  where  the  servants  and  carriages 
of  the  children  leaving  for  home  were  already 
gathering. 

On  top  of  a  large  globe  marked  with  the 
initials  "F.  L.",  the  boy  sat  down,  silent,  cap  in 
hand.  As  the  happy  clamor  of  the  crowd  in  the 
great  hall  reached  his  ears,  his  throat  swelled  with 
sorrow,  and  he  wept  bitterly  and  tragically  without 
sound,  as  cry  those  who  weep  from  the  bottom  of 
their  hearts.  Groups  of  parents  and  children  ad- 
vanced moving  down  the  hall  amid  a  joyous  clamor 
and  confusion.  None  noticed  the  lonely  child; 
although  now  and  again  a  boy  companion  in  passing 
smiled  at  him  as  the  lad  smiled  back  through  his 
tears. 

a  LADY,  large  and  good-humored,  found  her- 
self near  the  child  in  the  crowd.  She  held 
the  hand  of  a  small,  plump  boy  who  carried 
a  prize  for  athletics.  Her  boy  noticed  the  silent 
tears  of  the  lad,  and  pulling  at  his  mother's  skirts, 
whispered  to  her:    "Mother,  Luis  is  crying!" 

"Why  are  you  crying,  child,  "asked  the  lady. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


"You  recited  so  well.     Didn't  you  get  any  prizes?" 

Luis  blushed;  then  looking  at  her  proudly,  he 
showed  the  prizes  he  had  with  him:  "Five,  and 
two  excellents." 

"Five  prizes,  and  yet  you  cry!" 

The  lad  did  not  answer,  but  hung  his  head  and 
began  to  cry  again. 

"What  is  the  matter,  child?"  cried  the  lady. 
"Are  you  ill?    Tell  me  why  you  are  crying  so." 

With  clenched  teeth,  with  eyes  filled  with  tears 
of  bitterness,  the  boy  at  length  replied :  "I  am  alone. 
My  mother  did  not  come  to  see  my  prizes." 

The  lady  understood  then  all  the  bitterness 
hidden  in  the  boy's  heart.  Tears  came  to  her  eyes 
also;  stroking  the  fair  head  of  the  lad,  she  said: 
"My  poor  boy!  Maybe  your  mother  was  unable  to 
come  to  see  you,  or  perhaps  she  is  waiting  outside. 
What  is  your  mother's  name?" 

"The  Countess  of  Albornoz,"  he  answered. 

A  quick  expression  of  horror  passed  over  the 
lady's  face  on  hearing  this  name.  She  turned 
round  hurriedly  to  the  woman  who  stood  behind  her, 
and  cried  with  more  impetuosity  than  common  sense  : 
"Did  you  hear  that  name?  What  a  mother!  While 
this  angel  is  crying  here,  she  is  there  scandalizing 
the  whole  of  Madrid." 

"Be  careful!  Be  careful!"  answered  the  other 
warningly,  glancing  at  the  boy  Luis. 

"But  what  a  mother  for  such  a  son!"  Then  the 
lady,  noticing  that  the  boy  had  understood  nothing 
of  what  had  been  said,  spoke  to  him:  "Take  these 
chocolates,  little  one,  one  for  you,  and  the  other  box 
for  your  brothers  and  sisters.  You  have  brothers 
and  sisters?" 

"I  have  Lili." 

"Take  one  to  Lili,  and  take  this,  too,"  and  the 
good  woman  gave  the  lad  two  loud  kisses  in  which 
she  tried  in  vain  to  put  a  mother's  warmth  and  love. 

A  groom  in  green  livery  with  the  crest  of  a  noble 
on  the  buttons,  advanced  and  joined  the  group. 
"When  the  little  master  is  ready,  the  carriage  is 
ready,"  he  said  respectfully.  The  lad  sprang  up 
with  a  bound,  and  with  a  hurried  embrace  to  his 
friend  lan  to  the  door.  At  the  gate  the  Rector,  who 
was  there  bidding  farewell  to  his  boys,  stopped  him. 
Luis  kissed  the  old  Father's  hand,  who  embraced 
him  in  return  and  whispered  something  in  his  ear. 
The  boy  blushed  and  his  tears  came  again  while  he 
affectionately  kissed  the  priest's  hand  a  second  time. 

The  carriage  moved  slowly  away,  and  at  last 
the  cries  of  good-bye  ceased. 

"Good-bye!  Good-bye!"  cried  the  old  man 
again. 

A  few  small  hands  appeared  out  of  carriage 
windows  in  the  distance:    "Good-bye!     Good-bye!" 

At  last  all  had  disappeared  around  a  corner  of 
the  road  and  the  College  was  left  silent  and  solitary, 
while  in  a  distance  lay  Madrid,  that  stagnant  pool, 
in  its  evil  haze.  The  old  man  let  his  arms  fall 
heavily  to  his  side,  and  with  bowed  head  entered 
the  Chapel  murmuring  sadly:   "Ah!     Virgin  of  Sor- 


rowful Remembrance,  how  long  will  they  remember 
thee?" 


CHAPTER    II. 

HEW  people  were  present  that  same  afternoon 
in  the  drawing  room  of  the  Duchess  of  Bara. 
The  Duchess  herself  lay  languidly  upon  a 
sofa  smoking  a  cigarette.  She  complained  that  she 
had  a  headache.  Carmen  Tagle  sat  not  far  away 
also  smoking  a  cigarette,  which  proved  somewhat 
rebellious  in  the  handling. 

The  fat  wife  of  the  banker  Lopez  Moreno,  as 
heavy  and  majestic  as  the  money  bags  of  her  hus- 
band, was  likewise  indulging  in  a  cigarette,  and 
laughing  now  and  again  with  a  maternal  air  over 
the  efforts  of  her  daughter  Lucy,  who  had  recently 
returned  from  school,  to  take  small  puffs  from  the 
cigarette  of  Angelis  Caspardo.  The  girl  coughed 
and  made  wry  efforts,  while  Angelis  encouraged  her 
by  himself  indulging  in  vast  puffs. 

The  young  girl  seemed  to  find  the  pastime 
amusing,  and  was  manifestly  pleased  at  having  a 
Grandee  of  Spain  as  her  teacher  in  the  gentle  art  of 
smoking,  while  she  attentively  studied  the  chic  ways 
of  these  great  ladies,  whom  her  mother  had  impressed 
upon  her  as  models  upon  which  to  form  herself. 
But  her  innocent  schoolgirl  eyes  saw  in  them  many 
odd  things.  Even  the  Duchess  seemed  irritated  at 
the  raucous  mirth  of  the  banker's  wife,  though  she 
maintained  a  cautious  patience  and  amiability  in  her 
attitude  toward  her,  which  was  wise,  considering 
that  Senora  Moreno  held  mortgages  amounting  to 
over  two  million  reals  upon  the  Duchess's  broad 
acres. 

Leopoldina  Pastor,  a  lively  old  maid  of  over 
forty,  with  a  smattering  of  cleverness  and  learning, 
was  eating  a  goodly  portion  of  sugared  toast,  arguing 
violently  the  while  with  Don  Casimir,  a  literary 
celebrity  and  a  former  minister  of  public  instruction. 
Studying  her  and  joining  in  her  arguments  stood  the 
Marquis  of  Butron,  who  had  a  very  hairy  face,  which 
had  caused  the  ex-Queen  Isabella  to  give  him  the 
name  of  Robinson  Crusoe,  since,  she  claimed,  that 
were  it  not  for  having  seen  the  face  of  her  dear 
Minister  Plenipotentiary,  she  would  never  have  been 
able  to  guess  the  appearance  of  that  famous  explorer 
clad  in  his  skins  of  wild  animals  on  his  desert  island. 

iy^HEN  arguments  lapsed  for  a  moment,  Butron 
vl/  irowned  in  a  majestic  manner  and  said,  as 
^*s  though  pronouncing  ex  cathedra  "The  situa- 
tion is  going  to  pieces.  We  should  have  had  the 
Restoration  six  months  ago."* 

Butron's  remark  touched  a  sore  spot  in  the  con- 
science of  his  audience.    To  be-little  the  possibility 

*  To  understand  this  Spanish  nobleman's  remark. 
the  reader  must  know  something  of  the  strange  state  of 
Spanish  politics  of  that  day.  A  few  years  hefore  our 
story  opened,  Queen  Isahella  II  had  so  scandalized  her 
countrymen  that  she  had  heen  forced  to  flee  to  Paris  with 
her  family. 


13 


THE  +  SIGN 


of  the  Restoration  of  Alfonso  and  the  Bourbons 
to  the  Spanish  throne  was  rank  treason  in  the  eyes 
of  the  great  ladies  of  Madrid,  since  they  lived  in 
continual  expectation  of  this  restoration  which  would 
restore  them  their  form- 
er power  in  the  country 
and  former  prestige  in 
the  Spanish  court.  So 
the  dear  women  were 
excessively  indignant  at 
Butron,  and  to  tease 
them,  the  Marquis  who 
was  the  prime  director 
of  the  efforts  to  restore 
Alfonso  to  the  throne, 
continued  his  speech. 

This  hairy  diplo- 
mat knew  full  well  that 
there  was  no  question 
but  that  all  the  ladies 
present  that  afternoon 
were  in  favor  of  the 
Restoration,  and  it  was 
his  work  to  keep  their 
party  feelings  inflamed 
and  to  direct  their  zeal 
into  those  channels 
which  would  give  the 
greatest  return  to  the 
Alfonsist  cause.  For 
these  women  with  their 
social  power  as  scions 
of  Spain's  oldest  fami- 
lies and  their  devotion 
to  the  Bourbon  house, 
had  practically  succeed- 
ed in  isolating  the  un- 
fortunate Italian  Ama- 
deo  in  his  Spanish 
palace,  where  he  lived 
surrounded  by  "rich 
shop-keepers"  as  the 
Duchess  of  Bara  called 
his  followers,  or  by 
"arrant  good-for-noth- 
ings" as  the  facetious 
Leopoldina  Pastor  in- 
sisted on  calling  them. 


There  she  renounced  all  claims  to  the  Spanish 
throne.  Confusion  fell  upon  her  unhappy  country  when 
she  went  into  exile,  and  finally  the  dominant  political  party 
chose  a  foreignling  in  the  person  of  Amadeo,  Duke 
of  Aosta  and  relative  of  Victor  Emanuel  of  Savoy.  This 
Italian  "usurper,"  as  he  was  generally  known  in  Spain, 
received  scant  homage  from  the  Spanish  aristocrats,  who 
clung  tenaciously  to  the  idea  of  Restoration  of  the  Bour- 
bon  Royal  family  in  the  person  of  Alfonsa,  son  of  Queen 
Isabella. 

To  add  to  the  complication  of  this  already  compli- 
cated political  situation,  there  were  some  Spanish  noble 
houses  and  many  of  the  Spanish  people,  especially  in  the 
northern  part  of  the  kingdom,  who  clung  loyally  to  the 


Whenever      the      Alfonsist      ladies      assem- 
bled in  public  they  always  wore  conspicuously  the 
Alfonsist    symbol    of    the    fleur-delis,    whether    at 
opera,   dance,   or   driving   through   the    boulevards 
of   the   city.     Even   at 

this      little      gathering 

at     the     Duchess     of 


Testament 

J.  Corson  Miller 

When  I  ha^e  come  to  that  far  gate, 
Wkere  every  man  at  last  must  wend, 
I  shall  rejoice,  and  count  it  great 
That  I  made  every  foe  my  friend. 

I  shall  look  up  with  frankest  face 
To  those  great  stars  that  may"  endure, 
Knowing  that  in  my"  humble  place 
I  held  respect  for  all  God's  poor, 

And  when  the  Vast  doors  open  v?ide, 
Where  Judgment  sits  on  right  and  vJrong, 
Be  sure  it  shall  not  be  denied 
I  drank  of  love,  and  courted  song. 

Then  shall  I  speak  with  all  my  power, 
If  power  of  voice  be  left  to  me, 
That  in  life's  desolation-hour, 
I  praised  God's  magnanimity. 

Before  His  judgment-seat  I'll  stand, 

Nor  fear  to  meet  His  steadfast  gaze, 

For  I  have  touched  a  babe's  hand, 

And  walked  down  evening's  still,  green  ways. 

For  that  I  spurned  earth's  pride  and  shov?, 
And  kept  my  soul  from  lust  and  strife, 
Perhaps  the  Lord-God  shall  bestow 
On  me  His  gift — Eternal  Life. 


Bara's  the  banker's 
wife,  Moreno,  wore  an 
enormous  one,  set  in 
great  diamonds,  while 
Leopoldina  Pastor  and 
the  others  wore  less 
conspicuous  ones  of 
solid  gold. 


© 


'HE  Marquis  drew 
a  dark  picture. 
Spain  was  in 
a  ghastly  condition. 
Ministerial  crisis  after 
ministerial  crisis  played 
havoc  with  the  plans  of 
King  Amadeo.  In  the 
provinces,  many  of  the 
troops  and  of  the  peas- 
a  n  t  s  had  rebelled 
against  the  government. 
Even  the  shopkeepers 
of  Madrid  had  revolted, 
and  but  five  days  be- 
fore, a  mob  had  rushed 
through  the  streets  of 
the  city,  throwing 
stones  at  windows  and 
shattering  the  beauti- 
fully illuminated  lamps, 
hung  in  celebration  of 
the  anniversary  of  Pius 
IX. 

"The  Restoration  is 
a  certainty,"  said  the 
Marquis  sententiously. 
"But,  my  dear  ladies, 
it  can  be  secured  only 
at  the  cost  of  much 
blood.  It  would  not 
surprise  me  to  see 
another  French  Revolution  enacted  in  this  unhappy 
country." 

The  ladies  were  shocked  at  this  outburst,  and 
discussed  among  themselves  the  possibility  of  Revo- 
lution as  though  they  were  Marie  Antoinettes,  gazing 
through  her  prison  windows  at  the  heads  fresh  from 
the  guillotine  carried  past  her  on  the  revolutionary 
pikes.  The  idea  of  death  terrified  them.  Did  they 
know  how  to  die?  Death  to  them  was  only  some- 
restoration  of  the  Pretender  to  the  throne,  Don  Carlos, 
descendant  of  the  brother  of  Ferdinand  VII,  father  of 
Isabella,  who  had  prevented  Carlos  from  his  succession 
at  his  death  and  placed  his  daughter  on  the  throne. 


THE  t  SIGN 


thing  they  had  seen  acted  by  great  artists  in  tragic 
scenes  at  the  Royal  Theatre. 

The  Duchess  of  Bara  in  a  low  voice  said  that 
she  herself  had  seen  in  Madame  Tussaud's  famous 
museum  in  London  the  very  guillotine  upon  which 
the  unfortunate  French  King  had  been  beheaded. 
The  fat  wife  of  the  banker  Moreno  cautiously 
smoothed  her  large  neck  as  though  she  already  felt 
the  cold  steel  upon  it.  Leopoldina  Pastor  cried  out 
that  she  was  not  frightened;  on  the  contrary  she 
would  die  like  Charlotte  Corday  assassinating  a 
dozen  worthless  Marats.  Carmen  Tagle  sighed 
heavily,  and  asked  if  the  guillotine  would  hurt  much. 

"You  would  feel  but  a  slight  coldness,"  came 
a  gloomy  voice  from  the  distance. 

All  jumped  to  their  feet  frightened,  expecting 
to  see  Robespierre's  ghost  behind  them.  But  they 
saw  only  Don  Casimir  smilingly  squeezing  with  one 
hand  the  windpipe  and  with  his  other  breaking  the 
tail  off  a  small  china  rabbit  which  adorned  with 
hundreds  of  other  china  knick-knacks  the  little  tables 
scattered  throughout  the  room.  This  good  gentle- 
man had  the  unfortunate  habit  of  being  so  absent 
minded  that  he  constantly  picked  up  and  broke 
whatever  came  within  reach  of  his  long  and  agile 
fingers,  and  from  these  raids  of  his  upon  the  bric-a- 
brac  he  had  secured  the  nickname  of  "the  literary 
cyclone." 

Recovering  their  composure,  everyone  laughed, 
and  the  joke  of  the  literary  cyclone  brightened  the 
somewhat  dreary  note  of  the  assemblage.  Isabel 
Mazacan  with  her  most  impertinent  air  appeared 
like  a  whirlwind  in  the  doorway,  and  kissing  the 
Duchess,  pulled  off  her  gloves  and  helped  herself  to 
some  tea.  Then,  with  a  quick  glance  at  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  around  her,  she  said  explosively: 
"The  first  lady-in-waiting  to  the  Queen  has  been 
appointed." 

All,  men  as  well  as  women,  started  in  surprise, 
while  the  headache  of  the  Duchess  instantly  disap- 
peared. 

"Who  is  it?    Who  can  it  be?" 

Who  indeed  could  it  be?  The  chief  idea  of 
those  noble  ladies  of  Spain  had  been  to  insult  the 
Italian  King  and  his  wife  Maria  Victoria,  and  there- 
fore to  leave  unfilled  the  great  position  of  first  lady- 
in-waiting  to  the  Queen,  a  position  which  requires 
the  wife  of  a  great  Grandee  of  Spain,  and  which  is  a 
post  so  high  and  delicate  that  it  gives  rather  than 
receives  authority  to  the  Queen  herself. 

"Ugh!"  cried  the  Duchess,  "some  shop- 
keeper's wife  from  Alcolea." 

"Or  perhaps  some  distinguished  circus-artist," 
cried  Carmen  Tagle. 

"Both  wrong,"  said  the  imperturbable.  "She  is 
a  great  lady  of  Spain." 

"But  that  is  impossible,"  cried  the  hairy  diplo- 
mat Butron. 

"Some  provincial  little  noble,"  guessed  Leo- 
poldina Pastor. 


"Wrong  again,"  said  Senora  Mazacan.  "She 
is  a  lady  of  the  former  court,  of  the  old  stock. 
Indeed,  I  am  rather  surprised  not  to  find  her  here." 

"Here,"  shrieked  the  Duchess  threateningly. 

"Who  is  it?  Who  is  it?"  cried  all  those  present, 
searching  suspiciously  in  all  directions,  as  though 
the  newly  appointed  lady-in-waiting  was  hidden 
beneath  a  nearby  sofa  or  chair. 

Isabel  Mazacan  smiled  maliciously,  handed  her 
tea  cup  to  Peter  Velez  to  refill,  emptied  it  at  one 
swallow,  and  threw  the  name  like  a  bomb  into  the 
center  of  the  assemblage. 

"The  Countess  Albornoz." 

a  CRY  of  absolute  unbelief  came  from  all,  while 
the  Duchess  sank  back  on  her  sofa,  crying 
that  the  very  idea  was  absurd. 

"It  is  utterly  ridiculous,"  exclaimed  Butron. 

"But  I  know  this  on  the  best  authority." 

"I  do  not  care  who  told  you,  I  do  not  believe  it," 
said  the  Duchess.  "I  will  have  to  see  her  in  the 
Queen's  carriage  before  I  can  believe  such  a  thing." 

"Well,  you  will  see  her  there  soon  enough," 
retorted  Isabel  Mazacan  sharply.  "Don't  you  re- 
member that  Curra  Alborijoz  was  in  Paris  when 
Queen  Isabella  abdicated?  Don't  you  remember 
that  no  one  thought  of  inviting  her  to  the  ceremony? 
There  is  the  whole  thing  in  a  nutshell!  She,  and 
that  husband  of  hers,  Villamelon,  never  forgot  that 
slight  and  have  decided  on  a  fitting  revenge.  So 
prepare  for  the  worst,  my  friends!  For  I  know  that 
the  Usurper  did  not  merely  offer  her  the  position, 
she  even  went  so  far  as  to  ask  for  it  herself!" 

"Outrageous!"  cried  Leopoldina  Pastor;  while 
the  hairy  one  muttered  in  his  beard  words  that 
sounded  like  treason. 

"The  position  will  pay  her  well,  for  she  will 
receive  six  thousand  dollars  a  year  for  it — " 

"That  is  pure  nonsense :  there  is  not  a  post  in 
the  paiace  that  pays  more  than  three  thousand 
dollars." 

But  Isabel  insisted.  "Curra  will  get  six  thous- 
and, for  she  has  asked — "  ■ 

Here  the  narrator  gave  a  malicious  smile  and 
continued  slowly:  "She  has  also  asked  that  her  dear 
friend  John  Velarde  receive  the  post  of  private 
secretary  to  the  King." 

"Velarde?"  asked  a  voice  in  surprise.  "Why 
I  did  not  know — " 

"You  people  know  nothing,"  said  Isabel. 

"But,  my  dear,"  said  the  Duchess,  "I  have  often 
seen  John  Velarde  with  Curra's  husband  Villamelon. 
Still,  I  had  no  idea — " 

"What  better  sign  do  you  need  than  that? 
Isn't  Curra's  confidant  of  the  moment  always  Vil- 
lamelon's  best  friend?" 

All  laughed  maliciously  at  Isabel's  sarcasm, 
while  the  fat  wife  of  the  banker  Moreno  said  graci- 
ously: "How  sweet  little  Isabel  is!  She  always 
crucifies  everyone  so  delicately!" 


15 


THE  +  SIGN 


The  hairy  Marquis,  who  had  remained  silent 
during  the  last  few  remarks,  here  intervened  fearing 
a  feminine  dispute:  "Be  careful,  dear  ladies;  we 
are  playing  with  fire."  Then  cautiously  looking 
round,  he  continued:  "We  are  all  friends  here,  are 
we  not?  If  what  Isabel  says  is  true,  we  are  in  the 
midst  of  great  complications.  It  is  true  that  there 
was  an  oversight  in  the  matter  of  inviting  Curra  to 
the  ceremony  of  the  Queen's  abdication.  The  Queen 
herself  was  sorry  about  it.  For  that  very  reason, 
and  noticing  Curra's  anger,  I  wrote  to  the  Queen  and 
advised  her  to  make  some  kind  of  reparation.  Only 
recently  I  heard  from  Her  Majesty  that  she  had 
written  Curra  asking  her  to  attend  the  first  Com- 
munion of  Prince  Alfonso  in  Rome.  Imagine  now, 
dear  friends,  what  a  position  I  am  in!  Imagine  if 
as  first  lady-in-waiting  to  the  Italian  usurper  she 
attends  the  ceremony  in  Rome.  I  shall  be  ruined. 
I  must  speak  to  Curra  at  once.  This  must  be  stopped 
immediately." 

"She  will  be  here  soon,"  ventured  Isabel  softly. 

"Here?"    queried  the  Duchess. 

"Yes,  here.  I  have  asked  her  to  meet  me  to 
go  to  visit  the  patients  at  the  Foundling  Hospital. 
She  is  on  the  committee." 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  Carmen  Tagle  devoutly,  "Curra 
always  has  such  a  great  affection  for  those  poor  little 
children." 

"Maternal  affection,"  said  someone  sarcastically. 

Burton  threw  himself  headlong  into  the  conver- 
sation to  restore  peace  to  troubled  seas.  "Please  be 
sensible,  dear  ladies.  I  beg  you  let  no  one  say  as 
much  as  a  word  to  her  until  I  have  myself  spoken 
to  her." 

"Never,"  said  the  Countess  Mazacan.  "Noth- 
ing in  the  world  would  make  me  give  up  the  pleasure 
of  making  her  lose  her  temper." 

"But,"  protested  Butron,  "you  will  spoil  every- 
thing— " 

"All  right,  you  arrange  your  affairs,  but  do  let 
us  enjoy  ourselves." 

/g^VUTRON  wished  to  expostulate  further,  but  at 
vlfTj  that  moment  there  came  through  the  door  a 
^*-^  slender  lady  who  walked  with  careful  steps 
on  her  high  heels,  tapping  the  floor  as  she  advanced 
with  the  end  of  a  lace  parasol.  She  had  conspicu- 
ously beautiful  red  hair  and  her  eyes  of  light  grey 
were  indeed  so  light  in  color  that  they  seemed  to  see 
but  a  short  distance  and  gave  at  times  the  impression 
of  being  like  the  dead  eyes  of  a  marble  statue. 

Seeing  this  dainty  vision  approaching  the  irre- 
pressible Leopoldina  Pastor  ran  to  the  piano,  and 
began  to  play  the  hymn  of  the  Italian  Queen  of 
Spain,  while  certain  gentlemen  of  the  party  leaped 
upon  sofas  and  chairs,  and  as  Curra  approached 
bowed  to  her  slowly  and  stiffly,  without  a  movement 
of  the  head,  thus  making  a  pretty  imitation  of  the 
Italian-Spanish  king's  method  of  salutation. 

Curra  hesitated  a  moment  in  the  doorway  with 
that  timid  school-girl  air  which  she  always  displayed 


in  public.  She  took  in  with  a  quick  glance  the 
ironic  salutes  of  the  gentlemen,  the  sarcastic  play- 
ing of  the  hymn.  Then  she  suddenly  bowed  with 
an  air  of  complete  distinction  and  gave  in  return 
to  the  salute  of  the  usurper  King,  yet  another  salu- 
tation, a  long  deliberate  bow  to  the  right,  left  and 
center,  playing  in  turn  a  most  clever  caricature  of 
the  Court  ceremony  common  to  the  King's  wife, 
Dona  Maria  Victoria. 

CHAPTER    III 

ON  the  twenty-first  day  of  June,  Anno  Domini 
1832  some  years  before  our  story  opened, 
Ferdinand  VII,  King  of  Spain,  and  his  wife 
Maria  Christina,  were  respectively  godfather  and 
godmother  of  a  baby  named  Fernando  Christian 
Robustiano  Carlos  Luis  Gonzaga  Alfonso  de  la 
Santisima  Trinidad  Anacleto  Vincente,  in  the  local 
church  of  the  regal  country-seat  at  San  Ildefonso. 

This  baby  was  the  first  son  of  the  Marquis  of 
Villamelon,  one  of  the  greatest  grandees  of  Spain. 
He  was  also  the  last  baby  for  whom  King  Ferdinand 
was  godfather  on  this  earth.  Fifteen  months  after 
this  event  the  King  was  carried  to  his  tomb  in  the 
palace  in  Madrid,  carefully  living  up  to  the  simile 
of  the  bottle  of  beer  to  which  he  had  slily  compared 
his  subjects,  himself  representing  the  cork  which 
popped  out;  the  revolution  which  followed  him,  the 
foaming  beer  which  spread  down  the  bottle  on  all 
sides. 

The  afternoon  of  the  baptism  Ferdinand  desired 
to  inspect  his  godson  more  closely,  and  taking  the 
baby  to  his  room,  he  placed  himself  comfortably  in 
a  chair  and  complacently  surveyed  the  boy  lying 
on  his  knees.  He  opened  the  child's  mouth  with 
his  finger  and  thrust  his  large  Bourbon  nose  inside, 
as  though  he  wished  to  examine  the  little  one's 
throat.  What  he  saw  was  marvellous  and  Ferdinand 
withdrew  his  nose  promptly.  The  baby  Villamelon 
had  been  born  with  a  complete  set  of  teeth. 

It  is  said  that  Henry  IV  of  France  was  born 
with  two  front  teeth  and  that  Mirabeau  had  two 
molars  at  birth,  and  it  was  evident  that  anyone 
who  so  far  surpassed  these  two  famous  personages 
was  destined  for  great  things.  The  Queen  also 
desired  to  examine  the  infant  prodigy  and  placed 
the  tip  of  one  of  her  little  fingers  in  Baby  Villame- 
lon's  mouth;  while  Don  Calomarde,  who  had  entered 
the  room,  wished  also  to  examine  the  phenomenon. 
He  placed  an  ink-stained  finger  in  the  infant's 
mouth  which  the  baby  promptly  nipped,  causing 
the  King's  Minister  to  cry  with  anguish. 

"That  baby  is  no  fool,"  quoth  the  King. 

The  King's  remark  caused  much  laughter  and 
passed  through  the  Royal  Court;  while  all,  very 
much  astonished,  commented  on  the  phenomenon, 
and  later  made  bold  to  declare  that  when  he  was 
but  three  days  old  the  baby  had  recited  to  his  royal 
godparent  the  Our  Father,  Hail  Mary,  the  Litany 
of  Loretto,  and  a  fable  from  Don  Tomas  Iriarte. 

All  this  was  most  extraordinary  and  doubtless 


THE  1*  SIGN 


gave  rise  to  the  reputation  for  great  cleverness  and 
precocity  which  the  future  Marquis  of  Villamelon 
was  always  to  enjoy  until  his  continual  absurdities 
destroyed  that  reputation  forever. 

y?<E  entered  the  Military  Academy  at  the  age 
J  I  of  twenty,  and  in  '59  went  to  the  African  War 
■^~^J  under  General  Herrera.  He  was  eager  to 
land  on  African  soil  and  dye  his  virgin  sword  in 
Moorish  blood.  He  landed  at  the  Black  Cape  with 
sufficent  courage  to  travel  through  all  the  lands  of 
the  Moor  to  the  gates  of  Tunis  itself,  where  his 
grandfather  had  achieved  fame  by  capturing  the 
Alcazaba  under  John  of  Austria. 

But  as  he  landed  there  suddenly  appeared  from 
among  the  dense  brambles  by  the  shore  a  band  of 
natives  who  commenced  firing  on  the  Spaniards. 
Villamelon  did  not  hesitate  a  second.  He  turned 
rapidly  round,  and  forgetful  of  anticipated  deeds 
of  valor,  of  the  heroism  of  his  ancestor,  he  flew 
back  to  his  boat,  where  he  hid  himself  under  the 
bed  in  his  room  and  did  not  appear  again  till  the 
boat  sailed  back  to  Spain,  pleading  excessive  sea- 
sickness as  an  excuse. 

On  his  return  he  promptly  asked  to  be  retired 
from  the  Army,  and  then  he  entered  Madrid  in  as 
triumphant  a  manner  as  Napolean  entered  Paris  after 
his  Egyptian  campaign,  with  the  fame  of  his  martial 
achievements  in  the  great  battle  of  the  Black  Cape 
preceeding  him. 

During  the  next  few  years  the  Marquis,  without 
becoming  a  spendthrift  by  any  means,  became  a  sort 
of  libertine,  not  with  that  aristocratic  libertinage 
which  sets  gracefully  upon  the  shoulders  of  the 
Lauzuns  and  the  Frousacs,  who  were  gentlemanly 
even  in  their  infamy.  His  libertinage  was  that 
libertinage  all  too  common  in  Spain  among  the 
younger  men  of  good  family,  a  hybrid  mixture  of 
sportsman  and  low  gypsy.  At  last  fatigued  by  the 
unceasing  round  of  bull-fights,  of  champagne  and 
pate-de-foie-gras  suppers,  he  determined  that  he 
would  end  it  all,  and  at  once — namely,  that  he  would 
marry ! 

The  selection  of  a  fitting  bride  was  not  at  all 
a  difficult  feat  for  Villamelon,  for  he  was  not  at 
all  particular  in  his  choice  or  ideas.  He  believed 
vaguely  that  God  was  doubtless  a  good  person  for 
whom  he  discharged  all  necessary  duties  by  now 
and  again  leaving  a  card  on  Him  in  His  Church. 
To  him  Man  was  but  a  superior  species  of  digestive 
tubing;  life  but  a  pilgrimage  which  could  be  made 
conveniently  provided  one  had  a  full  stomach  and  a 
well-lined  purse;  marriage  was  but  the  amalgama- 
tion of  two  incomes  and  for  the  prolongation  of  the 
great  family  which  bore  his  honored  name. 

It  was  surprising  that  Villamelon,  who  had  been 
so  hopelessly  terrified  at  the  wild  natives  of  the 
Black  Cape,  should  ask  in  marriage  and  without 
fear  the  hand  of  a  noble  savage  without  a  soul. 
Just  as  one  meets  in  the  depths  of  wild  forests 
savages  who   offend   by  their   physical   nakedness, 


one  meets  in  the  best  drawing-rooms  of  our  best 
modern  society  savages,  dressed  exteriorly,  but 
naked  and  shameless  of  soul. 

This  illustrious  savage  was  no  other  than  Her 
Excellency  Francisca  de  Borja  Soliz  y  Gorbia,  Coun- 
tess of  Albornoz,  grandee  of  Spain  in  her  own  right, 
and  now  Marchioness  of  Villamelon  by  marriage 
to  the  former  infant  prodigy.  Yet  this  savage  queen 
had  a  modesty  quite  individual  and  all  her  own; 
what  could  be  described  best,  perhaps,  in  saying 
that  she  possessed  a  perfect  modesty  of  her  husband. 
This  strange  couple,  unlike  other  couples  who  are 
conspicuous  by  constantly  pulling  apart  like  two 
unfriendly  dogs  attached  to  the  same  leash,  were 
always  seen  together,  the  husband  affectionately 
teasing  his  wife,  while  she  in  shameless  cynicism 
adopted  the  timid  airs  of  a  schoolgirl. 

However  Villamelon  had  achieved  his  desire. 
Curra  presented  him  with  a  son  and  daughter  to 
carry  on  the  line,  and  his  income,  which  he  had, 
previous  to  his  marriage,  described  as  only  sufficient 
to  furnish  his  dinner,  joined  with  hers  was  able  to 
furnish  him  with  supper  as  well.  Villamelon  dined 
and  supped  with  art.  He  was  a  human  tunnel  into 
which  was  poured  incessant  quantities  of  food,  heed- 
less of  the  warnings  of  indigestion  which  endeavored 
now  and  again  to  preach  a  sermon  to  his  stomach. 
His  wife  lived  happily  and  shamelessly,  with  com- 
plete audacity  and  infinite  cynicism,  managing  that 
all  tongues  and  all  people  should  do  her  homage. 
It  was  possible  to  say  of  her  as  a  great  writer  said 
of  another:  "If  she  goes  to  a  wedding,  she  wishes 
to  be  the  bride;  if  to  a  baptism,  she  wishes  to  be 
the  child;  if  to  a  funeral,  she  would  be  the  corpse." 

QO  one  could  explain  exactly  how  she  came  to 
enjoy  supremacy  at  Court,  yet  all  subjected 
themselves  to  her  in  almost  abject  homage. 
Others  might  equal  her  in  wealth,  others  in  beauty, 
others  by  birth,  yet  none  was  her  equal  in  effrontery 
and  audacity  and  in  that  air  of  assurance  with  which 
she  dominated  all  her  adventures.  Was  this  the 
real  reason  for  her  dominance  over  others?  Could 
it  be  that  certain  circles  are  so  used  to  the  delicacy 
of  vice  and  the  constant  aroma  of  scandal  that  they 
instinctively  pay  homage  to  her  who  achieves  the 
most  perfect  refinement  in  her  villainies  ? 

The  Duchess  rose  from  her  seat  as  Curra 
entered  the  room,  amid  the  homage  of  men's  bows 
and  the  sound  of  the  Queen's  hymn,  crying  with 
her  hard  little  laugh:  "Many  thanks,  dear  friends, 
many  thanks." 

"Delighted,  my  dear,  delighted!"  said  the 
Duchess  as  she  kissed  her. 

Everyone  now  gathered  around  Curra,  while 
she  seated  herself  comfortably  and  helped  herself 
to  a  small  glass  of  whiskey  and  soda;  for  it  was 
obligatory  at  that  time  among  these  women  to  smoke 
and  drink  with  as  much  grace  as  possible. 

After  a  gentleman  had  secured  Curra  a  cigarette, 
the  Duchess  leaned  forward  and  lighting  it,  said : 


THE  1*  SIGN 


"Tell  us,  my  dear,  all  about  it!" 

"But  what  is  there  for  me  to  tell.  You  seem 
to  know  everything  already." 

"But  it  cannot  be  true!"  cried  the  Marquis 
Butron. 

"It  is  absolutely  true,"  answered  Curra  em- 
phatically. 

Butron  raised  despairing  hands  to  heaven  while 
Isabel  Mazacan  swept  the  assemblage  with  a  tri- 
umphant glance;  and  the  Duchess  exclaimed  furi- 
ously: "And  you  dare  come  to  my  house  and  tell 
me  this?" 

Curra  appeared  much  surprised  at  this  outburst 
and  glanced  hastily  around  with  perplexed  eyes, 
exclaiming  in  her  timid  child's  voice:  "But  what 
is  this,  my  dears  ?  Tell  me  what  it  is  that  you  have 
heard." 

"That  you  have  asked  for  and  accepted  the 
appointment  as  first  lady-in-waiting  to  the  Queen," 
said  Isabel  Mazacan. 

Curra  gave  a  perfect  imitation  of  pretending 
to  faint. 

"And  you  believed  this  of  me!"  she  asked 
with  all  the  indignation  of  a  lady  whose  virtues  are 
called  in  question. 

"Not  one  of  us  believed  it,"  cried  Burton, 
gasping  as  though  a  mountain  had  been  lifted  off 
his  chest.  "No  one  here  has  doubted  your  complete 
loyalty  for  a  moment,  my  dear — " 

Curra  wiped  a  tear  from  her  eye.  "I  must 
explain,  "she  said  simply.  "It  was  only  yesterday 
that  at  Court  they  were  talking  over  the  appoint- 
ment of  the  first  lady-in-waiting  when  the  Minister 
of  the  Interior  took  it  upon  himself  to  propose  that 
the  position  should  be  offered  to  me." 

"The  wretched  good-for-nothing,"  cried  Leo- 
poldina  Pastor.  "And  your  husband  has  not  killed 
him?" 

"He  deserves  it,"  said  Curra.  "But  it  is  really 
poor  Ferdinand's  own  mistake.  He  was  much 
interested  in  securing  the  private  secretaryship  to 
the  King  for  his  friend,  John  Velarde,  and  spoke 
to  the  Minister  about  him.  The  Minister,  astonished 
and  filled  with  daring  at  this  request,  went  too  far: 
give  these  dogs  a  foot  and  they  will  take  a  yard. 
None  other  than  the  President  of  the  Council  came 
to  offer  me  the  position.  I  would  not  see  him,  but 
my  husband  did,  and  there  was  no  end  of  a  scene. 
I  nearly  died  of  fright,  but  finally  the  Minister  left, 
and  heaven  knows  what  tales  they  are  telling  about 
me  now  to  get  revenge.  I  thought,"  she  added, 
"when  I  heard  the  hymn,  that  you  were  playing  a 
little  joke  on  me." 

^^UTRON  expressed  assent,  while  the  Duchess 
vJCj  now  completely  satisfied,  kissed  her  affec- 
^-^  tionately. 

When  the  Countess  had  finished  speaking, 
Isabel  Mazacan  excitedly  whispered  to  Burton: 
"This  is  all  a  lie.  It  is  a  lie,  Butron,  a  vile  lie,  I 
was  told  the  tale  by  Garcia  Gomez,  and  he  knows 


everything  that  happens  at  Court.  The  Minister 
of  the  Interior  told  the  King's  Council  at  its  meeting 
that  Curra  had  asked  to  be  appointed  and  that  the 
post  was  then  given  to  her.  It  must  have  been  this 
very  morning  that  the  President  of  the  Council  saw 
Curra  to  tell  her  about  it." 

Then,  turning  round,  she  said  aloud:  "You  see, 
my  dears,  did  I  not  tell  you  the  truth?  Garcia 
Gomez  told  me  the  very  same  thing  that  Curra  has 
just  told  you." 

Now  Curra  must  have  known  that  what  Garcia 
Gomez  had  said  was  something  considerably  dif- 
ferent from  what  she  had  just  said  herself,  so  giving 
her  cigarette  a  little  puff,  she  remarked  gently  to 
the  Countess  Mazacan:  "Look  here!  I  have  a  com- 
plaint to  make  about  your  Garcia  Gomez.  For  while 
he  may  be  a  Minister  of  State  he  amuses  himself 
far  too  much  inspecting  the  mail  that  comes  to 
us  from  Paris.  For  that  reason  he  was  able  to 
announce  to  the  Council  that  I  had  received  a  letter 
from  Queen  Isabella  yesterday,  which  would  surely 
prove  to  the  Ministry  how  foolish  were  their  pre- 
tensions." 

All  understood  to  what  letter  Curra  referred, 
above  all  Butron,  who  had  spoken  of  it.  All  ex- 
claimed enviously:  "So  the  Queen  has  written  you?" 

"To  invite  me  to  the  first  Communion  of  Prince 
Alfonso  in  Rome." 

And  Curra  looked  Isabel  Mazacan  over  from 
head  to  foot  for  it  was  well  known  that  that  lady 
wished  to  go  with  the  Queen  to  Rome.  That  lady 
was  about  to  reply  with  some  biting  sarcasm,  when 
Butron,  who  did  not  want  to  see  his  little  diplo- 
matic game  interfered  with,  led  Isabel  over  to  a 
window  and  engaged  her  in  conversation. 

XSABEL  MAZACAN  finished  her  chat  with 
Butron  by  the  window,  and  making  some 
excuse  to  Curra  to  avoid  going  with  that  lady 
to  the  Foundling  Hospital,  made  her  adieux  and  left 
in  a  disgusted  state  of  mind.  Curra  also  announced 
her  intention  of  going  home,  while  the  Marquis  of 
Butron  said  farewell  to  his  hostress  at  the  same  time. 

"Have  you  a  carriage  here,  Butron?"  asked 
Curra. 

"No,  I  haven't,"  replied  the  hairy  diplomat 
eagerly,  intent  on  seizing  the  occasion  which  offered 
of  having  a  confidential  talk  with  the  Marchioness 
of  Villamelon. 

"Come  with  me,  then,  in  my  carriage.  Where- 
ever  you  wish." 

"To  the  Calle  of  Isabella  the  Catholic :  I  must 
go  to  the  German  Embassy." 

They  descended  the  steps  together,  Curra 
leaning  on  Butron's  arm,  and  entered  her  carriage, 
a  delicate  affair  lined  with  blue  satin  like  a  beautiful 
casket  for  some  priceless  jewel. 

To  sweep  everything  with  his  conspiracies 
against  the  present  government  was  Butron's  aim, 
irrespective  of  personalities  and  of  the  refuse  which 
might  be  gathered  by  such  an  all-including  process. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


He  therefore  stuck  firmly  to  the  subject  and  demand- 
ed, as  head  of  the  Feminine  Army,  an  explanation 
of  all  these  rumors  and  alarms.  Curra  merely 
opened  wide  her  timid  eyes  and  behaved  like  a 
frightened  child  called  to  correction,  repeating  with 
protests  and  tears  the  story  she  had  just  told.  For 
what  kind  of  person  did  Butron  take  her  ?  What  had 
this  detestable  Isabel  Mazacan  been  telling  him 
that  caused  him  to  suspect  her,  who  hated  the  very 
mention  of  the  name  of  the  Italian  King?  Didn't 
Butron  know  that  the  Mazacan  was  but  an  intrigante 
who  would  stop  at  nothing  to  secure  an  invitation 
to  go  with  the  ex-Queen  to  Rome,  in  order  to  drown 
in  that  company  any  suspicions  which  might  have 
been  aroused  by  her  far  too  close  intimacy  with 
the  revolutionary  Minister  Garcia  Gomez? 


m 


[EANWHILE  the  carriage  moved  on  rapidly 
through  the  streets  until  it  reached  the  Calle 
Turca  where  a  strange,  sullen  murmur  reached 
their  ears.  Curra  and  Butron  looked  at  each  other 
with  surprise,  and  then  saw  that  the  porters  of  the 
School  of  Engineers  were  hurrying  to  close  the  doors 
of  the  building.  This  was  of  frequent  occurence 
during  these  days  of  constant  riots,  and  so  Curra's 
carriage  moved  on  without  hesitation  until  movement 
became  no  longer  possible.  They  came  up  against 
a  solid  wall  of  people  filling  the  Calle  Alcala  from 
one  end  to  the  other.  This  was  a  peaceful  demon- 
stration on  the  part  of  the  proletariat  who  marched 
along  demanding  an  appointment  with  one  of  the 
Ministers  of  the  Government. 

Curra's  enormous  English  coachman,  Tom 
Sickles,  robed  in  his  cockaded  hat  and  powdered 
wig,  pressed  on  with  the  mob,  seeking  to  force  a 
way  through.  But  he  was  too  late  and  was  brought 
to  a  halt  opposite  the  Veloz  Club  amid  a  gathering 
of  other  carriages. 

"Isn't  this  delightfully  amusing,"  cried  Curra 
in  childish  happiness.  "Look,  Butron,  how  funny 
they  all  look  in  their  pink  ribbons !  Ah,  look  at  that 
hunchback — what  a  rascal  with  his  banner  of  Re- 
form! Well,  he  needs  some  reform,  especially  his 
back." 

At  that  moment  another  equipage  blocked 
Curra's  view.  It  was  that  of  the  Civil  Governor  of 
Madrid  who  rode,  pompous  and  fat,  on  his  way  to 
the  palace.  Yet  even  he  could  not  force  a  way 
through  the  crowd. 

"There  goes  that  creature,"  whispered  Butron. 
"He  will  mark  us  as  conspirators,  Curra,  if  he  sees 
us  together — the  devil! 

This  exclamation  of  Butron's  aroused  in  Curra's 
eager  brain  one  of  those  mad  ideas  which  dominated 
her  mind,  and  leaning  out  of  the  window  as  though 
she  wished  the  Governor  to  see  her,  yet  paying  no 
attention  to  his  respectful  bow,  she  then  darted  her 
head  back  into  the  carriage  and  covered  her  face 
with  a  handkerchief  as  though  she  wished  to  be 
hidden  from  his  observation. 


"The  democracy  smells  unpleasantly,  Butron," 
she  remarked,  as  though  to  excuse  her  odd  man- 
oeuvres."    They  breed  pests  everywhere." 

QT  length  the  carriage  of  the  Governor  was  able 
to  extricate  itself  and  work  into  the  middle 
of  the  street.  As  it  did  so,  Curra  with  an  eye 
on  the  windows  of  the  club  filled  with  members 
who  watched  the  antics  of  the  mob,  suddenly  gave  a 
wild  pull  at  the  rope  which  connected  with  Tom 
Sickles'  finger,  and  leaning  out  of  the  window 
screamed  frantically:  "Quick,  Tom,  be  off!  Go 
on — head  them  off!" 

Tom  Sickles  did  not  wait  for  a  repetition  of  the 
command.  He  drew  in  his  reins  with  terrific  force 
and  screaming  at  his  horses,  lashed  them  with  his 
whip,  at  the  same  time  suddenly  loosing  the  reins 
so  that  the  horses  sprang  forward  as  though  shot 
from  a  catapult  and  dashed  headlong  down  the 
street. 

A  horrible  cry  of  anger  and  of  terror  came  from 
the  mob,  who  fought  desperately  to  get  out  of  the 
line  opened  up  by  the  carriage.  People  scattered 
from  one  side  of  the  street  to  the  other  terrified. 
Police  hurled  expletives  at  the  vehicle  to  stop.  But 
Tom  shook  the  reins  and  with  hideous  grimaces 
sought  to  give  them  the  impression  that  his  horses 
were  runaways.  Butron,  horrified  at  this  proceeding, 
hastily  drew  down  the  carriage  curtains,  while 
Curra  screaming  with  delight  leaned  out  of  the  win- 
dow to  see  the  people  struggling  from  under  the  feet 
of  her  horses. 

In  the  Calle  of  Isabella  the  Catholic,  Tom 
Sickles  performed  a  second  feat  by  pulling  up  the 
runaways  with  perfect  ease  just  in  front  of  the 
German  Embassy.  Madame's  wishes  were  perfectly 
obeyed,  and  the  illustrious  Sickles  wore  the  laurels 
of  the  Olympic  games 

When  Curra  finally  reached  her  house,  there 
were  three  other  carriages  at  the  door.  She  got  out 
of  her  carriage  at  the  stable,  and  entered  the  house 
by  the  servants'  entrance,  reaching  her  room  with- 
out being  seen  by  anyone.  There  she  rang  her  bell 
and  Kate,  her  English  maid,  came  in  answer. 

"Who  is  downstairs  with  my  husband?" 

"The  Minister  of  the  Interior.  Don  John 
Velarde  and  the  Duke  of  Bringas  are  playing 
billiards." 

"Tell  them  downstairs  that  I  can  see  no  one. 
I  have  a  severe  headache." 

Kate  paused  a  moment  before  leaving  and  said 
timidly:  "Not  even  Don  John  Velarde?" 

"No,  no.    I  will  see  no  one." 

Again  Kate  suggested  timidly:  "The  little 
master  comes  home  from  the  College  to-day." 

"So  he  does.    Poor  Luis!" 

"He  will  naturally  want  to  see  Madame." 

"No,  No!  He  can  amuse  himself  with  Lili. 
I  will  see  him  tomorrow.  To-night  I  have  too  bad 
a  headache."  (To   Be   Continued) 


Current  Fact   and   Comment 


OUR    "FINEST 


>— T"DMnTING  that  the  crime  of  murder  is  less 
1 I  prevalent  in  England  than  in  the  States  vari- 
ous causes  are  submitted  in  explanation.  One 
alleged  is  that  in  England  there  is  much  greater 
probability  of  the  criminal  being  caught  and  punished 
than  here.  If  this  is  intended  as  a  reflection  on  the 
effectiveness  of  our  police  service  it  is  not  fair. 
Naturally  the  so-called  sleuth  has  an  easier  task  in 
tracing  the  lawbreaker  in  the  "tight  little  isle." 
Here  it  happens  that  a  policeman  is  not  on  hand 
each  time  a  crime  is  perpetrated,  or  if  the  appre- 
hended criminal  ultimately  evade  the  penalty,  that 
is  not  the  fault  of  the  police.    As  a  class  the  average 


of  delinquency  among  them  is  so  low  as  to  be 
negligible.  Because  of  the  high  standard  of  honesty 
and  courage  required  of  them  any  such  delinquency 
is  the  more  sharply  noted  and  criticized.  As  a 
result  of  their  keen  knowledge  of  criminals  and  their 
habits  comparatively  few  crimes  really  pass  into 
insoluble  mystery.  We  properly  appraise  the  police 
force  and  extend  to  it  due  measure  of  gratitude 
only  when  we  fancy  it  as  a.  bulwark  withdrawn — if 
only  for  a  single  day:  how  promptly  would  not 
every  manner  of  criminal  sally  forth  to  ply  his 
cruel  craft  upon  our  persons  and  our  homes. 


OUR  "GIVEN  NAMES" 


CATHOLICS  generally  know  the  reason  for 
giving  a  name  at  baptism.  If  it  were  merely 
to  distinguish  us  afterwards  from  our  fellows, 
as  one  liner  or  Pullman  car  is  distinguished  from 
another,  any  mellifluous  term  might  be  attached  to 
us.  A  sort  of  superstition  often  causes  a  proud 
father  to  name  his  son  for  one  or  more  notables  in 
the  vague  hope  that  the  son  thereby  would  become 
quite  as  distinguished  as  they.  Sometimes  such 
vanity  has  been  best  met  with  ridicule.  To  the  usual 
question  on  the  occasion  of  the  baptism  of  a  boy 
the  father  submitted:  "Grover  Cleveland  Parnell 
Delaney."  The  old  pastor  sensing  no  canonized 
saint   in   this   array,   rather   impetuously   rejoined: 


"Why  don't  you  call  him  the  'Baltimore  and  Ohio 
Southwestern'?" 

Ordinarily  this  sort  of  family  pride  is  not 
elicited  by  the  daughters.  According  to  a  British 
paper,  a  father  and  mother  had  brought  their  month- 
old  twins  to  an  East  London  church  to  be  christened. 
All  went  well  until  the  rector  asked;  "And  what  is 
this  child's  name?"  The  father  drew  himself  up 
and  replied  "Haig  Pershing  Foch  Marne  Mons 
Lloyd  George  Clemenceau  Jones."  The  rector 
gasped.  Then  taking  a  deep  breath,  he  turned  to 
the  mother,  who  was  holding  the  other  child.  "And 
the  name  of  this?"  he  asked.  The  meek  little 
woman  smoothed  her  dress  and  whispered,  "Maud." 


KEEPING   IN   THE   GAME 


STATISTICS  show  an  increase  in  the  chances 
for  longevity.  On  the  other  hand  there  are 
startling  figures  compiled  showing  the  major 
diseases  taking  greater  toll  of  the  race  than  ever 
before.  There  is  a  relation  between  these  attained 
averages.  For  example,  mortality  from  cancer  is 
increasing  rapidly  because  modern  medicine  and 
hygienic  practice  are  effectively  eliminating  other 
fatal  ills  and  thus  leaving  a  larger  number  to 
succumb  inevitably  to  the  diseases  which  still  baffle 
science. 


Science  should  be  thanked  not  so  much  for 
helping  men  to  live  long  as  for  enabling  them  to  live 
efficiently  and  happily.  Recently  published  instan- 
ces of  longevity  are  Wrinkled  Meat,  an  Indian, 
claiming  134  years;  Djour,  the  Turk,  presenting  a 
birth  certificate  dated  the  year  of  the  Declaration 
of  Independance;  the  Earl  of  Halsbury  who  has 
just  passed  away  in  his  99th  year.  Though  we  admit 
no  error  in  the  computation  of  Lo's  age  or  the 
Musselman's,  there  seems  to  be  naught  besides  their 
lengthy  careers  for  which  they  can  claim  distinction. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


Not  so  with  the  Earl.  He  was  a  foremost  authority 
on  English  law.  His  codification  of  that  law  reach- 
ing to  twenty-eight  volumes  he  began  only  when 
he  was  85  years  old. 

We  should  not  expect  science  alone  to  keep 
us  in  the  game.  Too  many  people  slow  up  and 
swerve  into  the  side-lines,  some  boasting  that  they 
have  done  their  share,  some  through  mere  loss  of 
ambition.  And  too  many  of  them  just  take  the 
average  meridien  of  life  as  the  signal  to  quit.  The 
world  would  have  suffered  incalculable  loss  had  its 
geniuses  so  conformed.  Few  biographies  contain 
so  vast  a  record  of  useful  activities  as  that  of 
Cardinal  Vaughn.     About  the  time  of  his  sixtieth 


birthday  the  sense  of  the  shortness  of  life  brought 
an  almost  paralyzing  depression  upon  him.  He  had 
many  plans  to  complete  and  many  important  pro- 
jects to  inaugurate,  but  the  motives  that  might 
hearten  him  to  the  work  seemed  suddenly  to  be 
withdrawn.  Then  on  the  feast  of  Ireland's  Apostle 
he  was  startled  by  the  statement  of  the  preacher 
that  St.  Patrick  was  sixty  years  old  when  he  under- 
took the  conversion  of  the  Irish  people.  The  Cardi- 
naWerified  the  statement :  it  cheered  and  stimulated 
him  to  fresh  endeavor.  On  your  bier  they  will  lay 
a  floral  pillow  with  "Rest"  in  purple  immortelles. 
Give  no  occasion  to  the  mourners  to  think  it  irony. 


SCRAPPING    SOULS 


B 


POET  invites  us  to  the  sinking  of  the  Scrap- 
ped, the  Unborn,  the  Un-christened  Ships. 
In  pathetic  vein  the  old  sea-mastiffs 
lying  dark  in  their  docks  are  "whistled  forth  to  die;" 
"steam  out  to  drink  their  death,"  we  stand  and 
watch  them  "dour  and  silent,  bow  their  heads  and 
go  down,  dying  for  a  word  and  a  vision :  uncon- 
quered,  giving  up  the  fight  unfought"  and  "resting 
on  the  floor  of  the  ocean,  grey  with  its  ancient 
slime.'  There  is  fine  imagination  in  all  this  and  in 
the  line  upon  which  the  poem  is  built:  "the  scrap- 
ped, the  unborn,  the  un-christened  ships."  Anyone 
familiar  with  the  daily  press  will  see  at  once  the 
source  of  the  suggestion  in  this  line  and  the  oppor- 
tuneness of  it.  It  raises  a  question  of  comparative 
values.      Which    is    greater? — the    battleship — that 


mighty  conglomeration  of  steel,  fashioned  and  nicely 
rivited,  invulnerable  in  defense,  unerring  and  irresis- 
tible in  dealing  swift  death,  or  the  hand  and  brain 
that  designed  and  fashioned  it?  Yet  there  are  those 
who  contemplate  with  dismay  the  deliberate  des- 
truction of  these  huge  engines  of  war  who  utter  no 
protest  against  practices  directly  thwarting  the 
designs  of  the  Creator,  in  fashioning  the  noblest  and 
most  admirable  of  His  creatures — The  human  soul. 
There  are  those,  and  God  forbid  that  Catholics 
should  be  numbered  among  them,  who  with  economic 
eye  view  the  horror  of  scuttling  costly  battleships 
and  who  brazenly  participate  in  the  active  disemina- 
tion  of  knowledge  the  full  purpose  of  which  is  to 
scrap  the  unborn,  un-christened  soul. 


IRELAND— A   FREE   STATE 


^^=^HE  Irish  delegates  brought  more  than  half  a 
L\/  loaf  back  from  Downing  St.  All  the  reputed 
stubbornness  of  Irishmen  was  needed  and  they 
displayed  it  in  those  trying  days  of  negotiating  with 
the  arch-charmer,  Lloyd  George.  That  they  were 
not  haled  on  their  return  with  tumultuous  acclaim 
did  not  signify  that  little  had  been  gained.  Loyalty 
to  the  President  forced  a  suppression  of  sentiment 
until  his  decision  and  comment  were  heard.  That 
comment  had  the  merit  of  consistency. 

Quite  promptly  did  the  hierarchy  approve  the 
results  of  the  negotiations.  Granting  that  none  are 
more   conversant   with    Ireland's    affairs    and   more 


sanely  devoted  to  her  welfare  than  her  bishops, 
their  example  will  suffice  for  those  who  prayed  and 
fought  for  an  honorable  peace.  Consistency  carried 
to  the  extreme  might  mean  not  that  Ireland  would 
win  on  a  verdict  of  principle,  but  that  she,  despite 
incomparable  valor,  would  be  utterly  crushed  in  a 
verdict  of  arms.  This  contingency  reconciles  many 
to  yielding  to  England  the  few  shreads  of  honor  left 
to  her  in  the  covenant. 

The  Union  Jack  may  wave  over  Irish  soil :  to 
the  English  traveller  it  will  cause  no  exultation,  to 
Irish  eyes  it  will  be  at  most  an  interesting  relic. 
Its  title  to  wave  there  will  be  that  bond  of  associa- 


THE  +  SIGN 


tion  called  allegiance  to  save  the  face  of  things. 

It  is  a  fair  aurora  despite  the  few  thwarting 
clouds.  And  as  Ireland  swings  into  her  place  among 
the  nations,  it  is  gratifying  to  behold  the  talents, 


the  courage,  the  devotion  of  those  who  guided  her 
through  those  perilous  times  now  applied  to  the 
development  of  her  material  resources  and  the 
liberation  of  her  unique  genius. 


"HE   FINDETH   THE   HOUSE   GARNISHED' 


OUT  of  the  solemn  reflections  inspired  by  the 
flight  of  time  good  resolutions  are  born.  The 
older  we  grow  the  more  closely  we  note  the 
swift  passing  of  time.  The  thoughts  of  youth  were 
"long,  long  thoughts,"  with  every  goose  a  swan. 
Too  soon  the  leaves  turn  brown,  the  sport  grows 
stale,  the  wheels  run  down,  anniversaries  and  birth- 
days are  quickly  bridged;  not  only  the  years,  but 
the  decades  of  years  seem  so  brief  a  span.  With 
less  of  the  journey  to  go  there  is  the  corresponding 
chance  of  going  it  more  steadfastly.  But  even  the 
old  have  to  deplore  failure  in  keeping  their  good 
resolutions.  At  this  season,  therefore,  it  is  useful 
to  recall  some  of  the  practical  rules  for  making 
resolutions. 

First,  be  definite.  Nothing  is  more  vapid  than 
a  universal  resolution  to  do  better.  Rather  be 
determined  to  combat  one  particular  fault.  You  are 
assured  by  spiritual  authorities  that  there  will  be 
concomitant  improvement  on  all  lines.  What  partic- 
ular fault  should  you  choose  to  combat?  Inquire 
what  fault  has  recurred  most  frequently  in  your 
confessions.     Or  take  that  which  has  caused  most 


pain  or  disedification  to  those  around  you.  Use 
their  very  observation  of  you  to  measure  your  pro- 
gress. Give  them  occasion  spontaneously  to  remark, 
"How  charitable,  how  meek,  how  unselfish  he  or  she 
has  become  of  late!" 

Secondly,  remember  that  it  is  far  easier  to 
resolve  than  to  perform.  "Your  vows  and  perform- 
ances are  no  kin  together."  The  brave  mood  that 
inspired  us  to  resolve  may  not  be  at  hand  to  support 
us  in  the  temptation.  This  is  the  commonest  cause 
of  "chucking  it  up." 

Thirdly,  should  you  happen  to  fall  don't  con- 
clude at  once  that  there  is  no  use  in  trying.  Make 
stepping  stones  of  your  very  faults.  The  devil 
takes  little  satisfaction  out  of  a  single  fall.  He 
hovers  near  and  follows  up  the  fall  with  suggestions 
productive  of  discouragement  and  despair.  He 
strives  for  your  relapse  into  vicious  habits. 

Satan's  insidious  plans  are  made  void  by  humble 
acknowledgment  of  guilt  and  sorrow.  With  these 
sentiments  in  heart  we  can  advance  again  with 
courage  and  high  resolve. 


TO   LET:   NO.   1   EASY   STREET 


fOMEONE  has  discovered  a  barometer  of  pros- 
perity in  napkins-rings.  An  increase  in  the 
sale  of  napkin-rings  indicates  an  increase  in 
the  ranks  of  the  middle  classes.  The  upper  class  dis- 
cards the  napkin  after  each  use  of  it.  The  proletariat 
uses  no  napkin  at  all.  All  of  which  reminds  us  of 
the  great  switching  about  of  the  classes  as  a  result 
of  the  prosperity  immediately  following  the  war. 
Hundreds  advanced  to  the  millionaire  grade,  thous- 
ands attained  to  comforts  and  luxuries  never  before 
experienced. 

Unfortunately  the  poorer  classes  were  the  most 
improvident  of  the  newly  begotten  gains.  There 
was  an  orgy  of  spending  with  no  thought  of  the 
rainy  day.    Then  came  the  recessional.    Many  even 


fell  out  of  the  napkin-ring  class.  Everywhere  there 
followed  sales  of  used  player-pianos,  graphaphones, 
Axminster  rugs,  automobiles.  The  girls  salvaged 
their  furs  and  the  young  men  their  silk  shirts  as 
they  sought  new  jobs.  The  silk  industry  had  en- 
joyed a  phenominal  boom  satisfying  the  new  craving, 
but  such  a  manufacturer  lately  asked  by  a  solicitous 
friend  how  he  was  getting  along,  replied  that  he 
was  "on  his  feet  again."  He  had  sold  his  car. 
True,  a  certain  class  in  that  brief,  bright  interval 
moved  up  from  Delancy  Street  to  Riverside  Drive 
and  will  stay  there.  But  our  people  are  strangers 
to  their  thrift.  Perhaps  the  hard  experience  will 
bear  fruit  and  shrewder  methods  of  economy  em- 
ployed in  the  era  of  returning  prosperity. 


BS^^B 


1  is  copyright- 
ed in  the  Li- 
brary of  Con- 
gress   as    Ve- 
ronica's   Veil;    but   the 
newspaper     men     with 
their    swift    perception 
and  remarkable  ability 
to  compress  a  situation 
into     a     caption     have 
rightly  named  it  "America's  Passion  Play." 

This  impressive  religious  drama  was  written  in 
1910,  by  the  Rev.  Bernardine  Dusch, 
C.  P.  At  that  time  he  and  the  Rev. 
Conrad  Eiben,  C.  P.  were- associated 
as  assistants  in  St.  Michael's  Church, 
Pittsburgh,  Pa.  They  were  both  in- 
terested in  amateur  theatricals  and 
were  actively  engaged  in  producing 
the  local  parish  plays.  In  an  idle 
moment  Father  Conrad  casually  re- 
marked: "Why  don't  we  write  a 
play?" 

"It's  easy  to  write  a  play;" 
Father  Bernardine  replied,  "the  dif- 
ficulty is  to  get  the  proper  theatrical 
settings." 

"You  write  the  play,"  returned 
Father  Conrad,  "and  I'll  look  after  veroni 

the  settings." 

This  was  the  genesis  of  Veronica's  Veil. 
It  had  its  premier  in  St.  Michael's  Casino  in 
1912.  Its  success  was  so  evident  that  it  was  repeated 
the  following  year.  In  1914,  the  Very  Rev.  Clement 
Lee,  then  rector  of  St.  Mary's  Church,  Dunkirk, 
N.  Y.,  had  it  staged  in  the  Dorhen  Theatre  of  that 
city.  It  was  later  produced  in  Baltimore,  Md. :  and 
is  now  produced  there  annually  under  the  able  direc- 
tion of  the  Rev.  Maurice  Kantzleiter,  C.  P. 

CONVINCED  of  the  permanent  value  of  the 
play,  Father  Conrad  had  long  cherished  the 
hope  of  staging  it  in  such  fashion  as  to  bring 


out  all  its  possibilities  not  alone  as  an  interesting 
spectacle  but  also  as  an  object  lesson  in  practical 
religion.     The   opportunity   of   realizing   this   hope 
came   on   his   assignment   to   the   pastorate   of    St. 
Joseph's,    West    Hoboken,    N.    J. — a    small    parish 
numbering  less  than  1000  souls.     Some  years  since 
heavy  trials  came  to  try  the  loyalty  and  courage  of 
the  devoted  parishioners.     A  neighborly  hand  was 
sought  and  a  neighborly  hand  was  extended  to  save 
the  parish  in  the  day  of  its  difficulties.    The  veteran 
Father    Bernardine    was    called    to    the    scene    and 
though  he  suceeded  in  rallying  all  forces  to  the  task, 
his   health   was    undermined   in   the 
effort.     It  sems  more  than  a  coinci- 
dence that,  while  in  another  field  of 
lighter  labor,  the  writing  of  the  Pas- 
sion Play  was  suggested  to  him  by 
his  present  successor.     For  in  later 
years  the  proceeds  of  the  play  were 
to    lesson    the    huge    debt    of    St. 
Joseph's  and  at  the  same  time  justify 
the  erection  of  a  much-needed  school 
building.    An  auditorium,  with  a  com- 
fortable   seating    capacity    of    1400, 
occupies  the  ground  floor.     Its  lines 
are  quite  simple  and  severe,  in  har- 
mony with  the  chief  purpose  it  was 
to    serve — the    staging   of   America's 
_  VFn  Passion  Play. 

The  play  is  performed  during 
the  Lenten  season  only.  It  is  now  entering  upon  its 
eight  year.  Some  idea  of  its  drawing  power  may 
be  gained  from  the  fact  that  in  the  past  seven 
seasons  200  performances  have  been  given  with  an 
attendance  of  over  300,000.  The  play  has  an  appeal 
not  limited  to  the  devout  Catholic.  A  large  number 
of  Non-Catholics — Jews  as  well  as  Protestants — 
have  witnessed  it  season  after  season. 


© 


HE  dramatic  critices  have  given  it  a  large 
measure  of  praise.  The  great  American 
dailies  have  regularly  featured  it  not  only  in 


23 


THE  f  SIGN 


TRIAL  BEFORE  PILATE 

reading  notices  but  also 
in  the  color  and  roto- 
gravure sections  of  their 
Sunday  supplements. 
Flattering  offers  to  take 
it  en  tour  and  to  film  it 
have  come  from  promi- 
veronica  nent  theatrical  concerns. 

These  have  been  decisively  rejected  by  the  author 
and  management  as  they  are  utterly  opposed  to 
commercializing  this  sacred  drama.  With  the  idea 
of  extending  its  influence,  however,  they  cheerfully 
give  any  priest  or  religious  institution  permission  to 
produce  it  and  proffer  their  aid  in  effectively  staging 
it. 

Veronica's  Veil  is  a  striking  witness  to  what  can 
be  accomplished  by  the  every-day  talent  of  the 
average  parish.  It  is  altogether  a  parish  product. 
The  author,  Father  Bernardine,  was  formerly  pastor 
of  St.  Joseph's.  The  present  pastor,  Father  Conrad, 
is  the  director.  He  is  ably  seconded  by  his  assistant. 
Father  Bernard  Hartman,  C.  P.,  as  business  manager, 
The  two  casts,  numbering  300,  are,  with  few  excep- 
tions, members  of  the  parish. 
The  West  Hoboken  play- 
ers followed  the  Oberammer- 
gau  idea  in  the  home  manu- 
facture of  the  costumes.  The 
designing  and  making  of  these 
costumes  took  the  greater  part 
of  five  years,  during  which  the 
libraries  of  various  cities  were 
searched  for  correct  data. 
Jewish  and  Christian  traditions 
were  carefully  studied  so  that 
each  character  might  be  accu- 
rately attired.  The  young 
women   of    the    parish   gener- 


ously devoted  their  evenings  to  the  working  out  of 
the  designs.  Many  of  the  costumes  are  of  costly 
material,  richly  trimmed  and  embroidered. 

The  same  spirit  of  personal  interest  was  mani- 
fested by  the  men  of  the  parish.  Fourteen  of  these 
have  become  expert  stage  mechanics.  Others  were 
assigned  to  the  electrical  department,  and  have  in- 
stalled a  very  complex  system  of  lighting.  To  obtain 
the  delicate  effects  of  both  artificial  and  day-light 
required  for  the  various  scenes  and  tableaux,  this 
system  was  necessary. 

Entirely  from  the  parishioners  has  been  recruit- 
ed the  splendid  orchestra  of  twenty  pieces  which 
furnishes  the  special  musical  programme. 

The  following  have  served  as  Chairman  of  the 
General  Committee:  the  Rt.  Rev.  John  J.  O'Connor, 
Bishop  of  Newark;  the  late  Chief  Justice  Eugene 
A.  Philbin;  Col.  L.  D.  Conley  of  the  Fighting 
Sixty-Ninth;  the  Hon  W.  Bourke  Cochran;  and 
Edward  I.  Edwards,  Governor  of  New  Jersey. 


©' 


HE  play  is  composed  of  five  acts,  seven 
scenes  and  six  tableaux.  Its  presentation 
takes  about  three  hours.  Its  argument  is  two- 
fold: Our  Lord's  Sacred  Passion  and  The  Fruits  of 
His  Passion.  This  argument  is  built  upon  the  legend 
of  Veronica's  Veil. 

The  legend  is  so  well-known  that  there  is  no 
necessity  here  to  do  more  than  recall  how  the  wife  of 
Sirach,  a  member  of  the  Sanhedrin,  was  so  moved 
by  the  recital  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ  as  He 
carried  the  Cross  to  Calvary  that  she  heroically 
braved  the  insults  of  the  mob  who  surrounded  Him, 
and  offered  her  veil  to  remove  the  sweat  and  blood 
from  His  sacred  face.  When  the  cloth  was  returned 
she  found  imprinted  upon  it  the  lineaments  of  His 
countenance. 

With  this  Veil  Veronica 
raises  the  dead  to  life,  re- 
stores the  sight  of  a  Roman 
matron,  thus  winning  her  and 
her  family  to  Christianity, 
shatters  the  statue  of  Jupiter 
in  the  palace  of  Nero,  and, 
finally,  by  destroying  the  sight 
of  the  villainess,  Miriam,  who 
has  been  the  arch  persecutor 
of  the  Christians  throughout 
the  play,  compels  her  to  recog- 
nize in  Christ  the  true  Messiah 
and  the  Savior  of  the  world. 


THE  f  SIGN 


With  reverent  and  com- 
mendable prudence  the  play- 
wright has  refrained  from  pre- 
senting our  Lord  as  one  of  the 
speaking  characters  in  the  real- 
istic and  awesome  scenes  pro- 
jected. In  this,  Veronica's  Veil 
is  in  striking  contrast  with  the 
world-renowned  Passion  Play 
of  Oberammergau.  Yet  by 
ableaux  of  singular  beauty,  power  and  suitability, 
and  by  the  illuminating  dialogue  of  the  other 
characters,  the  author  of  the  American  production 
has  Very  deftly  and  with  great  dramatic  skill  pre- 
sented and  emphasized  each  and  every  vital  point 
in  the  Passion  and  Death  of  Jesus  Christ.  The 
observer  is  spared  the  harrowing  scenes  of  the  brutal 
flagellation,  the  shocking  indignities  of  the  Way  of 
the  Cross,  the  revolting  incidents  of  outrage,  con- 
tumely and  blasphemy  which  the  Evangelists  them- 
selves hardly  more  than  suggest  in  the  Gospel 
narrative. 

COMPLETE  and  haunting  impressions  of  these 
contributory  episodes  in  the  physical  and 
mental  crucifixion  of  our  Lord  are  conveyed 
by  the  intervening  tableaux.  Thus  the  prelude  is 
a  still,  living  tableau  of  the  inhuman  betrayal  of 
Christ  by  Judas  Iscariot  in  the  Garden  of  Gethse- 
mane,  with  a  supplementary 
view  of  His  seizure  by  the 
Roman  soldiery. 

The  curtain  of  the  first 
act  rises  upon  the  court  scene 
of  the  Sanhedrin  in  the 
palace  of  the  high-priest 
Joseph  Caiphas.  The  action 
and  argument  proceed  in 
simultaneous  and  explana- 
tory accord  with  the  betrayal 
episode  already  projected. 

At  once  the  spectator 
is  made  aware  of  the  over- 


shadowing influence  of  the  God-Man.  A  divine 
presence  is  almost  sensibly  felt  in  every  succeeding 
scene.  There  is  a  consciousness  of  mystery,  love, 
wisdom  and  sorrow.  These  seem  to  envelop  the 
audience  like  an  inspiring  atmosphere. 

Thus  far  the  play  has  succeeded  in  exhaling 
the  rare,  uplifting  and  mystical  appeal  of  our  Divine 
Redeemer.  Thereafter  He  is  left  to  dominate  every 
word,  motion  and  scene  of  the  drama  although  His 
Divine  Personality  appears  no  more  except  in  the 
successive,  silent  tableaux  of  The  Trial  before  Pilate, 
The  Crucifixion,  The  Resurrection,  and  the  idealized 
Vision  of  the  Glorified  Martyrs  which  splendidly 
serves  as  the  sublimating  postlude  of  this  impressive 
religious  drama. 

The  six  tableaux  have  been  universally  pro- 
claimed as  the  equal  of  the  finest  scenic  efforts 
attained  even  on  the  metropolitan  stage.  No  ex- 
pense has  been  spared  in  perfecting  the  electrical 
equipment.  The  tableaux  are  living  copies  of  the 
world's  best  paintings  portraying  the  principal 
scenes  of  the  Sacred  Passion.  As  a  result  of  scrupu- 
lous and  patient  study  of  these  paintings  no  detail 
of  costume,  pose  or  expression  is  omitted. 

^^^HE  Crucifixion  tableau  is,  naturally,  the  very 
^^/  heart  of  the  drama;  and,  naturally  too,  exhi- 
bits the  most  impressive  realism.  In  it  the 
whole  troupe  of  150  performers  take  part.  These 
are  so  garbed  as  to  represent  accurately  the  various 
classes  who  were  accustomed  to  assemble  in  Jerusa- 
lem during  the  Jewish  Passover.  As  a  matter  of 
strict  fact  no  other  American  stage  has  presented  a 
dramatization  of  Calvary  on  such  a  collossal  scale. 
Perhaps  the  nearest  approach  to  the  realism  of 
Veronica's  Veil  in  this  particular  was  that  made  some 
twenty-five  years  ago  by 
Salmi  Morse.  The  New 
York  state  law  prevented  him 
from  carrying  out  his  plans. 
The  Crucifixion  scene  is  so 
admirably  and  reverently  dis- 
played that  the  audience,  un- 
wittingly forgetful  of  all  else, 
are  swept  back  through  the 
intervening  centuries  and  live 
through  the  enactments  of 
the  supreme  moments  in  the 
world's  history. 


THE  *t  SIGN 


ec 


'MINENT  dramatic  critics  of  the  present  day 
have  unhesitatingly  expressed  their  warmest 
admiration  for  Veronica's  Veil.  To  them  the 
very  simple,  unpretentious  and  even  amateurish  act- 
ing of  the  two  casts  is  an  added  attraction  in  the  con- 
vincing and  edifying  qualities  of  the  play.  The 
performers  selected  are,  for  the  most  part,  plain, 
pious,  straight-thinking  and  believing  wage-earners. 
Amongst  them  there  is  not  one  professional  actor. 
Whatever  may  be  the  scope  of  their  daily  avocations, 
they  are  all  animated  by  that  spirit  which  informs 
the  inspired  couplet  of  Robert  Browning: 

"All  service  ranks  the  same  with  God, 
There  is  no  first  or  last." 
While  it  would  be  entirely  out  of  question  to 
demand  or  even  expect  in  the  Passion  players  the 


produce  the  impression  that  they  feel,  know  and 
actually  live  the  ordeals  which  they  so  ingeniously 
portray. 

XT  is  said  of  the  Oberammergau  players  that 
they  try  to  live  in  their  daily  lives  the  parts 
they  play  upon  the  stage.  In  the  stress  and 
compexities  of  our  hurried  American  life  it  would 
be  quite  impossible  for  the  West  Hoboken  players 
to  imitate  their  praiseworthy  efforts.  But  they  do 
strive  to  make  of  their  acting  a  religious  exercise. 
They  make  an  annual  retreat  preceding  Lent.  This 
is  of  obligation.  They  are  all  frequent  and  many  of 
them  daily  communicants.  Their  loyalty  to  Ver- 
onica's Veil  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  they  serve 
without  remuneration  and  that  90%  of  the  original 
casts  are  still  with  the  play. 


TABLEAU  OF  THE   CRUCIFIXION' 


technical  refinements  of  the  professional  performer, 
the  sympathetic  auditor  and  even  the  surfeited 
theatre-goer  cannot  but  be  impressed  by  the  blunt 
speaking  and  the  awkward  gesture  which  so  quickly 
express  elemental  passion  and  primal  emotion.  The 
very  crudities  of  the  Passion  players  enhance  for 
many  the  suitability  of  their  characterizations.  Yet 
it  must  not  be  thought  that  these  players  never  get 
beyond  the  mediocre  range  of  the  amateur.  There 
are  those  amongst  them  who  lift  their  audience  into 
utter  sympathy,  understanding  and  admiration  by 
the  sheer  intensity,  sincerity  and  virile  simplicity  of 
their  almost  inspired  acting.  The  despair  of  Judas, 
the  death  of  Caiphas,  the  banishment  of  Ruth,  the 
wrath  of  the  venomous  Miriam,  are  examples  of 
amazingly  fine  acting,  the  more  inescapably  effec- 
tive for  that  the  players'  very  gaucheries  of  techni- 
que and  lack  of  everything  approaching  affectation 


So  much  does  the  religious  element  triumph 
that  the  play  succeeds  in  spite  of  its  violating  some 
of  the  most  elementary  rules  of  dramatic  composi- 
tion. There  are  two  distict  plays  in  the  one  produc- 
tion. The  aim  of  the  playwright  is  to  delineate 
the  historical  incidents  of  the  Sacred  Passion,  and 
to  add  to  this,  the  spectacle  of  the  successful  preach- 
ing of  Christianity  to  the  pagan  world  as  the  outcome 
of  the  sufferings  of  the  Divine  Redeemer.  But  the 
author's  purpose — Devotion  to  the  Sacred  Passion — 
would  have  been  better  served  if  in  accordance  with 
dramatic  technique  the  final  curtain  were  dropped 
on  the  last  act  of  the  Great  Tragedy.  One's  soul, 
like  to  the  souls  of  the  watchers  on  Calvary,  would 
in  this  event  be  more  than  taxed  in  contending  with 
the  surging  emotions  of  grief,  pity  and  repentance. 

Even  as  a  separate  play,  the  second  part, 
despite  its  many  beautiful  and  clever  settings,  scat- 


THE  +  SIGN 


ters  its  iorces  time  and  agaki  by  piling  up  climaxes. 
In  both  plays  one  constantly  marvels  how  the  per- 
former, charged  to  express  the  deepest  emotions  the 
heart  can  know,  can  escape  embarassment  when 
the  lines  of  the  playwright  unexpectedly  stop  short. 
Perforce  he  must  have  recourse  to  the  semophore 
devices  of  the  'silent'  drama. 


w 


HATEVER  may  be  the  defects  of  Veronica's 
Veil,  and  friendly  criticism  will  help  to 
remove  them,  the  play  stands  out  as  being 


the  notable  religious  dramatic  productions  of  the 
world.  Already  it  attracts  patrons  from  all  parts  of 
the  United  States  and  Canada. 

The  St.  Joseph's  production  differs  from  the 
pageants  and  historical  plays  that  have  attained 
popularity  in  all  parts  of  America  within  the  last 
few  years  because  it  is  planned  to  maintain  it  as  an 
annual  institution  indefinitely,  and  to  gain  for  it  a 
reputation  which  will  put  it  on  the  same  plane  as 
the  Oberammergau  passion  play.  That  production, 
however,  has  been  repeated  only  every  tenth  year, 


THE    MIRACLE    IN 

simply  epochal  in  the  development  of  the  religious 
drama  in  America.  The  evident  success  it  has  so 
far  met  with  is  ample  proof  of  its  general  appeal 
and  points  to  its  value  as  a  permanent  institution. 
The  editorial  comment  of  the  New  York  Sun  is  more 
justified  today  than  when  it  appeared  in  the  issue  of 
March  10,  1919: 

"Since  the  passion  play  "Veronica's  Veil"  was 
presented  for  the  first  time  in  1914  by  the  parish- 
ioners of  St.  Joseph's  Church  in  West  Hoboken  it 
has  achieved  a  national  fame  which  gives  promise 
of  permanence  and  may  in  time  establish  it  among 


THE    MAMERTINE 

in  accordance  with  the  vow  made  in  gratitude  for  the 
cessation  of  the  Black  Death  in  1633.  The  Oberam- 
mergau play  has  enlisted  the  services  of  600  persons 
as  actors  and  actresses;  St.  Joseph's  is  not  so  ambit- 
ious in  numbers,  but  the  spirit  of  reverence  in  which 
the  participants  approach  their  personations  is  deep 
and  true.  The  experiment  has  already  achieved 
more  than  momentary  success,  and  its  development 
will  be  interesting  to  those  who  regard  it  as  a 
spectacle,  as  well  as  to  those  who  look  upon  it  as  a 
significant  incident  in  the  evolution  of  religious 
activity  in  America." 


More   Laborers  for  the   Harvest 

First  Colony  of  American  Passionists  Leave  for  Ckina 

Gabriel  Francis  Powers 


SCENE  never  to  be  forgotten,  and  a  cere- 
mony solemn  and  beautiful  as  those  of 
the  red-letter  days  of  one's  life,  was  that 
of  the  departure  service  for  the  young 
Passionist  Missionaries  leaving  for  China;  an  event 
that  will  be  historic  in  St.  Michael's  Monastery 
Church  at  West  Hoboken,  New  Jersey. 

.  Long  before  the  hour  appointed,  the  noble, 
rather  sombre  edifice  was  filled  already  to  the  total 
extent  of  its  seating  capacity,  with  a  swarm  of 
people  standing  below  the  pews,  in  the  vain  hope 
that  they  might  perhaps  get  a  seat  later  on.  The 
crowd  extended  at  last  not  only  to  the  vestibule 
and  stairs,  but  spread  even  over  the  sidewalk.  And 
the  attitude  of  this  vast  gathering  was  not  merely 
curiosity,  but  much  more,  and  very  noticeably, 
sympathy.  Sympathy  with  the  young  men  who  were 
going,  sympathy  with  the  Order  and  the  relatives 
who  were  giving  them  up;  and  a  deep,  unspoken 
sympathy  with  this  wondrous  thing  that  has  grown 
up  in  our  midst  almost  unnoticed:  the  enthusiasm 
for  the  foreign  missions. 

Many  persons  had  tried  in  vain  to  obtain 
tickets  at  the  last  moment  by  applying  at  the  Mon- 
astery; but  one  woman  obtained  admission  as  by 
magic.  She  stood  on  the  threshold  with  her  brave, 
bright  face  aglow:  "I  want  to  get  in.  I've  got  a 
boy  at  Maryknoll,  and  he's  going  to  China,  too." 
She  got  in  so  quickly  the  mere  spectator  was  left 
breathless.  The  atmosphere  of  kindness  and  gener- 
osity was  abroad  like  sunshine  in  the  air.  In  the  jam 
of  leaving,  one  woman  was  crushed  against  another 
and  saw  the  souvenirs  in  her  hands.  "Where  did 
you  get  them?  I  could  not  see  any." — "Right  near 
the  door;  but  take  some  of  mine — do  take  them — I 
have  quite  a  few  of  them."  Strangers  one  to  another, 
but  some  spirit  of  open-hearted  giving  seemed  to 
have  emanated  from  those  six  black-robed  figures 
of  sacrifice. 

^^^HE  long  preliminary  wait  was  borne  with  a 
V/y  quietness  and  patience  that  spoke  volumes, 
and  noteworthy  because  it  is  not  common, 
even  in  church.  A  little  after  four  o'clock,  the  organ 
prelude  for  the  processional  pealed  forth,  and  the 


entire  congregation  came  to  their  feet  in  sharp 
expectancy. 

From  the  vestry,  across  the  sanctuary,  down  the 
north  aisle  and  up  the  nave,  the  stately  procession 
advanced,  the  solemn  escorting,  by  all  the  orders 
of  the  Church,  of  these  young  envoys,  to  be  sent, 
like  her  missionaries  of  old,  with  the  glad  tidings 
of  the  Gospel,  to  Gentile  nations  sitting  in  darkness 
and  in  the  shadow  of  death.  The  gleaming  Cross 
first,  borne  high,  and  with  a  special  fitness,  before 
these  Sons  of  the  Cross  and  Passion.  Nearest  to  it 
the  little  children,  tiny  boys  in  white  cassocks,  with 
the  faces  of  cherubs  and  big,  bright  eyes  roaming 
in  wonder;  next  the  taller  boys  in  scarlet;  then  the 
acolytes  in  black  with  red  sashes;  and  the  long 
lines  of  the  Passionist  Fathers  and  students  in  plain 
linen  surplice;  then  those  six  who  wear  no  surplice, 
but  only  the  habit  of  their  Order,  austere  and  noble, 
with,  ever  the  heart,  the  badge  upon  which  are 
stamped  the  memorials  of  the  Passion,  and,  driven 
into  the  leathern  cincture,  the  Crucifix  which  they 
go  forth  to  preach. 

The  long  black  robe,  which  they  wear  as  an 
emblem  of  their  incessant  mourning  for  Him  who 
died  these  nineteen  hundred  years  ago,  falls  over 
bare  feet  strapped  in  sandals.  In  their  wake  follow 
religious  of  other  Orders,  and  the  secular  clergy  in 
surplice  and  birretta,  grave,  reverend  ecclesiastics, 
most  of  them  grown  grey  in  the  long  years  of  toil 
and  service.  The  prelate  of  the  Missions,  Monsignor 
Dunn,  another  friendly  and  noted  figure,  passes  in 
the  fresh  splendor  of  the  recently  assumed,  and,  if 
a  secular  voice  may  presume  to  say  it,  so  well 
deserved  episcopal  purple.  Then  the  deacons  and 
subdeacons  who  are  to  officiate  at  the  pontifical 
compline  service,  in  violet  dalmatics;  and  last  the 
venerable  white  haired  Bishop  of  Newark,  Monsig- 
nor O'Connor,  with  his  attendant  priests  and  six 
small  pages  in  white  satin  and  silver,  bearing  his 
train,  an  added  touch  that  seems  to  make  the  picture 
more  complete,  as,  the  procession  melting  away 
into  a  series  of  well-ordered  groups  in  the  sanctuary, 
the  component  elements  of  it  take  their  respective 
places  around  the  altar.  The  Diocesan  Bishop  upon 
his  throne  at  the  Gospel  side;  the  visiting  Bishop  at 


THE  1*  SIGN 


the  Epistle  side;  just  behind  him,  the  five  missionary 
Fathers  and  the  good  co-adjutor  Brother,  their  com- 
panion; the  reverend  clergy  and  the  religious,  in 
the      stalls 
and      in 
ranks     be- 
yond     the 
miss  ion- 
aries. 

Com- 
pline, the 
evening 
prayer  of 
the  Church, 
is  sung  im- 
m  e  diately 
by  finely 
trained 
voices  in 
the  choir, 
and  the 
short 
psalms  are 
succeed  e  d 
by  one  of 
the  most 
beauti  f  u  l 
of  the  Anti- 
phons  of 
Our  Bles- 
sed Lady, 
that  won- 
drous song 
of  Advent 
— and  how 
appropriate 
here  to- 
ri i  g  h  t! — 
"Alma  Re- 
d  e  mptoris 
Mater, 
quae  per- 
via  c  o  e  l  i 
porta 
manes,  et 
stella 

maris."     Well  may  they  call  upon  her:  "The  Gate 
of  Heaven  open,  and  the  sea's  star!" 

gT  the  close  of  the  Divine  Office,  Monsignor 
Dunn  ascends  the  pulpit,  and  announces  as 
the    text    of    his    impressive    sermon    those 


INTERIOR    OF    ST.    MICHAEL'S    MONASTERY    CHURCH 


words  which  throughout  the  centuries,  have  been 
sending  men  from  native  land  and  fireside  to  the 
extremest  confines  of  the  earth.     "Going  therefore, 

teach  ye 
all  nations, 
bap  tizing 
them  in 
the  name 
of  the 
Father  and 
of  the  Son, 
and  of  the 
Holy 
Ghost." 
And  he 
adds  the 
con  tinua- 
tion  of  the 
m  e  s  sage, 
the  last 
verse  of 
the  Gospel 
of  St.  Mat- 
:hew,  which 
is  not  al- 
w  a  y  s 
quoted,  but 
which 
should 
be  always 
quoted,  for 
it  is  the 
promise  of 
eternal 
truth, 
strengthen- 
i  n  g  the 
fearful  and 
staying  up 
the  weak 
in  immor- 
tal hope : 
"And  be- 
hold I  am 
with  you 
all  days, 
even  to  the  consummation  of  the  world."  Had  the 
orator  uttered  no  other  word,  and  he  uttered  many 
others  both  eloquent  and  wise,  that  one  alone  would 
have  been  a  staff  in  the  hand  of  each  of  the  depart- 
ing pilgrims,  forevermore. 


THE  +  SIGN 


XN  the  course  of  the  sermon  the  speaker  calls 
attention  to  the  importance  of  the  event  in 
which  we  are  participating :  the  first  departure 
of  missionaries  of  this  diocese  for  the  foreign  field, 
and  he  expresses  his  own  strong  faith  that  it  was 
the  martyr  blood  of  Christians  shed  in  China  during 
the  Boxer  rebellion  of  1900,  that  has  brought  about 
the  flowering  of  Christianity  there  in  the  present 
day,  and  the  generous  readiness  of  our  America  to 
respond  to  the  call  of  the  field  afar.  He  rejoices  in 
the  marvelous  new  impulse,  a  very  breathing  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  amongst  us,  which  is  carrying  so  many 
splendid  young  men  to  the  sublime  vocation  of  the 
Foreign  Missions.  The  world,  for  their  reward,  will 
style  them  fools,  but  they  will  be  fools  for  Christ; 
and  it  is  the  image  of  the  wayfaring,  preaching,  self- 
forgetting  Christ,  that  he  holds  up  as  the  model  of 
all  missionaries  and  as  their  leader:  "The  First 
Missionary:   Christ." 

ONE  could  have  listened  longer  with  pleasure 
to  so  earnest  a  speaker,  but  after  the  final 
exhortation  to  the  missionaries  to  build 
schools  wherever  they  go,  Monsignor  Dunn,  yields 
the  word  to  the  Reverend  Father  Provincial,  who, 
standing  before  the  altar,  presents  a  large  Mission 
Cross  to  his  departing  sons.  The  six  young  men 
kneel  at  the  altar  step  to  receive  this  last  public 
exhortation  of  their  Superior,  and  there  is  something 
both  striking  and  touching  about  the  mingled  manli- 
ness and  humility  of  those  kneeling  forms,  the  habit 
and  cloak,  at  that  moment,  calling  to  mind  the 
pictures  of  the  saints  of  the  Order,  in  just  such  a 
garb  and  posture  as  this. 

In  his  clear  yet  subdued  voice,  the  Father 
reminds  them  that  all  missionaries,  under  the  guid- 
ance of  the  Church  go  forth  to  carry  the  selfsame 
message  of  light  and  faith  to  the  nations  afar,  but 
that  they,  Sons  of  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross,  have  a 
special  added  task  to  fulfill.  On  the  day  of  their 
religious  profession  they  made  a  promise,  nay, 
more,  a  solemn  vow,  to  further  and  to  spread,  where- 
ever  they  might  go,  the  knowledge  and  remembrance 
of  the  sufferings  of  Christ  Crucified. 

In  the  long  hours  of  meditation  at  the  foot  of  the 
Crucifix,  they  have  been  schooled  in  this  knowledge 
and  remembrance  themselves,  and  this  must  be  the 
special  teaching  of  salvation  which  they  carry  to 
others.  They  have  often  contemplated  in  spirit  the 
Sorrows  of  the  Mother  who  stood  at  the  foot  of  the 
Cross,  and  her  remembrance,  too,  Mary  in  anguish 


and  desolation,  they  must  teach  to  others,  while  she 
will  be  their  consolation  in  troubles  and  adversities, 
when  perchance  their  tears  may  be  mingling  with 
hers.  The  name  of  the  Holy  Mother  of  God,  as  he 
utters  it,  seems  to  fill  all  the  sanctuary  with  fra- 
grance. "Thy  name,  0  Mary,  is  as  sweet  oil  poured 
forth.  Thy  servants  have  loved  thee  exceedingly." 
In  conclusion  he  invites  the  young  men  to  approach, 
and  to  kiss  Our  Saviour's  feet,  as  a  token  of  their 
fidelity  and  attachment  to  Him. 

After  this  they  go  over  to  the  venerable  Bishop 
and  kneel  one  by  one  before  the  throne  to  receive 
his  Blessing,  and  to  kiss  his  ring  in  homage.  Then 
to  the  Bishop  Director  of  the  Propagation  of  the 
Faith,  and  the  eyes  and  the  hands  of  this  great 
friend  of  the  Missions,  as  he  slowly  and  reverently 
blesses  them,  seem  to  be  conveying  some  message — 
wordlessly — out  of  his  heart. 

^^^0  the  bystander,  the  most  affecting  portion 
I  J  of  the  remarkable  ceremony  is  unquestionably 
the  farewell  of  the  clergy  and  religious  to 
the  departing  missionaries.  The  six  young  men 
ascend  the  altar  step  and  stand,  facing  the  congre- 
gation, while  the  long  line  of  priests,  religious,  and 
students,  passing  in  front  of  them  in  single  file,  greet 
each  one  of  them  individually. 

The  first  to  pass,  the  officiating  deacons,  simply 
offer  them  the  "Pax"  of  High  Mass,  the  ceremonious 
laying  of  hands  upon  the  arms  and  the  inclination; 
but  as  the  ecclesiastics  keep  coming,  and  still  com- 
ing, it  is  easy  to  recognize,  in  spite  of  the  dignity 
and  decorum  observed,  the  old,  valued  friend,  the 
cherished  companion,  the  brother  in  religion  who 
has  drawn  more  tenderly  near,  the  class-mate  of 
long  ago.  Some  in  haste,  struggling  with  the  heart- 
break they  will  not  show;  some  lingeringly,  reluct- 
ant to  part;  here  the  robust  handshake,  gripping 
hard,  eye  to  eye;  there  the  kiss  upon  the  cheek,  or 
even  upon  the  lips,  like  a  parting  of  lovers.  And 
again  the  cheery  word  and  the  clap  on  the  back, 
right  there,  in  front  of  the  altar,  before  the  Friend 
who  will  understand. 

One  saintlike  aged  priest  pauses  before  each 
of  the  young  priests,  bending  his  hoary  head,  white 
with  the  snows  of  many  winters,  and  to  each  whis- 
pers the  selfsame  words,  perhaps  a  humble  request 
for  prayers;  seeing,  near  the  end  of  the  course  in 
which  he  has  spent  himself,  these  new  athletes 
vigorously  entering  the  career  for  God.  And  in  the 
midst  of  it  all,  some  flash  of  a  friends  glance,  some 


THE  +  SIGN 


secret  murmured  in  his  ear,  suddenly  brings  a  smile 
to  one  of  the  grave  young  faces,  and,  in  a  moment, 
one  of  the  missionaries  has  laughed  outright.  The 
line  in  front  of  him  keeps  passing,  passing,  men 
stand  dumb  in  the  pews,  gripping  the  wood  under 
their  hands  in  the  effort  not  to  show  their  soul; 
over  the  faces  of  women  tears  are  pouring  down 
silently,  unrestrained;  but  that  face  at  the  altar 
laughs  out  its  farewells,  head  up,  bright  as  though 
the  sun  were  shining  upon  it,  not  with  any  flimsy 
mirth  of  amusement,  but  with  the  high,  shining, 
magnificent  joy  of  this  thing  which  is  the  leaving 
of  home  and  tongue,  of  father  and  mother,  of  bro- 
ther and  sister,  for  the  sheer  love  of  Christ! 

^^=^HE  prayers  for  travellers  about  to  set  forth 
V_J  upon  the  road,  the  "Itinerarium"  of  ancient 
days,  come  last  before  the  Benediction  of  the 
Blessed  Sacrament.  And  it  begins  by  the  chanting 
of  the  Benedictus,  the  canticle  which  will  be  said 
over  the  bodies  of  these  young  Passionists  when 
they  lie  dead.  But  there  seems  to  be  a  wonderful 
fitness  about  it  now,  as  it  so  often  happens  in  the 
prayers  of  the  Church;  for  are  not  these  words  true 
of  the  missionaries  today  as  they  were  of  the  Pre- 
cursor in  the  day  of  Zachary  ? 

JJND  thou,  child,  shalt  be  called  the  prophet  of  the  Most 
High:  for  thou  shalt  go  before  the  face  of  the  Lord 
to  prepare  His  ways. 

To  give  knowledge  of  salvation  to  His  people,  unto 
the  remission  of  their  sins. 

Through  the  bowels  of  the  mercy  of  our  God,  in 
which   the  Orient   from   on   high   hath   visited  us. 

To  enlighten  them  that  sit  in  darkness,  and  in  the 
•hadow  of  death:    to  direct  our  feet  into  the  way  of  peace. 

And  the  voice  of  the  officiating  Bishop,  distinct- 
ly and  sweetly,  intones  the  prayer : 

fll^  AY    the   almighty   and   merciful    God   direct   us   in   the 

way    of    prosperity    and    peace,    and    may    the    Angel 

Raphael  be  our  companion  in   the  way,  that  with  peace, 

health,   and   gladness,   we   may   return   to   our   own   homes. 

Then,  alternately  with  the  choir,  the  verses  and 
responses  are  chanted : 

g\VE  thy  servants,  O  Lord,  for  they  hope  in  Thee. 
Send  help,  O  Lord,  from  the  holy  place,  and  from  Zion 
be  our  protection.  Be  to  us  a  tower  of  strength  against 
the  face  of  the  enemy.  Let  not  the  enemy  win  any  gain 
over  us,  nor  the  son  of  iniquity  be  able  to  work  evil 
against  us.  May  the  Lord  be  blessed  every  day,  may  God, 
who  is  our  salvation,  render  our  going  prosperous.  Show 
us,  O  Lord,  thy  ways,  and  in  thy  paths  be  our  leader. 
May  our  ways  be  directed  to  the  keeping  of  thy  com- 
mandments. The  crooked  paths  shall  be  made  straight 
and  the  rough  places  smooth.  God  shall  give  His  angels 
charge  over  thee,  that  they  may  keep  thee  in  all  thy 
ways. 

Then  alone  the  faint,  soft  voice  of  the  Bishop 


lifts  up  those  marvelous  prayers  of  the  ancient 
Roman  liturgy,  many  of  which  go  back  to  the  sixth 
century,  and  some  point,  as  with  the  finger,  to  the 
frescoed  images  of  the  Catacombs  in  the  fourth : 

^  God,  who  didst  cause  the  children  of  Isreal  to  pass 
dry-footed  through  the  midst  of  the  sea,  and  who,  by 
the  guidance  of  a  star,  didst  lead  the  three  Kings  unto 
Thee  grant  us,  we  beseech  Thee,  quiet  times  and  a  pros- 
perous journey,  that  thy  holy  Angel  being  our  companion 
we  may  safely  attain  the  end  of  our  travels  and  at  length 
happily   enter   the   port   of   salvation. 

^  GOD,  who  having  led  Abraham  thy  servant  out  from 
Ur  of  the  Chaldeans,  didst  through  all  his  peregri- 
nations keep  him  from  every  harm,  deign  to  keep  us,  too, 
who  are  thy  servants.  Be  to  us,  O  Lord,  our  aid  while 
we  gird  for  starting,  be  our  comfort  in  the  way,  a  shade 
n  the  ardor  of  heat,  a  shelter  in  rain  and  cold,  a  vehicle 
n  fatigue,  a  refuge  in  mishaps,  a  staff  in  slippery  places, 
n  shipwreck  our  port;  that,  led  by  thee,  we  may  come 
safely  to  our  destination,  and  return  unharmed  to  our  own 
homes. 

The  service  ends  with  the  singing  of  the  sweet, 
familiar  hymns  we  know  so  well,  0  Salutaris,  and 
Tantum  Ergo,  and  that  last  crowning  glory  and 
radiance  of  the  Host,  uplifted  above  the  sea  of 
kneeling  forms  and  lowly  bowed  heads,  as  the 
Eucharistic  King  imparts  His  Blessing,  after  so 
many  other  blessings  asked  and  received.  Before 
Him,  in  final  silence,  lie  all  the  prayers,  all  the  tears, 
all  the  hopes,  all  the  farewells.  Then  the  congrega- 
tion stands,  like  the  ministers  in  the  sanctuary,  for 
the  brief  "Laudate,"  and  the  procession  forms  once 
more  and  majestically  descends  the  main  aisle,  to  the 
strains  of  the  recessional. 

There  is  one  more  detail.  The  Master  of  Cere- 
monies announces  that  as  it  will  be  impossible, 
cwing  to  the  greater  number  of  persons  present,  for 
the  Missionaries  to  meet  their  friends  individually, 
they  will  give  their  blessing  to  all  collectively.  Thus 
for  a  moment  we  see  them  stand  again  upon  that 
memorable  altar  step,  one  clear  voice  intones 
"Benedicat  vos  Omnipotens  Deus,"  (curiously  they 
seem  to  have  taken  refuge  at  the  altar,  grouped  to- 
gether, as  in  times  past  the  martyrs  sometimes  did — 
the  thought  comes  strangely  to  mind!)  and  the  five 
consecrated  hands  rise  to  trace  slowly  in  the  air  the 
Sign  that  has  mysteriously  conquered  the  world. 

It  will  be  right  and  fitting  to  recall  here  the 
names  of  the  little  band  of  heroic  and  devoted 
young  men.  Father  Celestine  Roddan,  C.  P.,  Superi- 
or, Father  Agatho  Purtill,  C.  P.,  Father  Flavian 
Mullins,  C.  P.,  Father  Raphael  Vance,  C.  P.,  Father 
Timothy  McDermott,  C.  P.,  and  Brother  Lambert 
Budd,  C.  P.,  who  will  valiantly  second  the  apostolic 
labors  of  the  Fathers. 


THE  t  SIGN 


^^^HE  writer  of  these  lines  has  asked  permission 
V/J  of  the  Reverend  Editors  of  the  Sign  to  make 
one  last  earnest  appeal  to  the  readers  of  it, 
in  favor  of  the  Missionaries.  Not  so  long  since,  we 
used  to  cross  the  street  to  shake  hands  with  some 
unknown  soldier  and  say  to  him.  "Good-bye — good 
luck — God  bless  you!"  He  was  going  overseas  and 
in  our  hearts  was  the  pain  and  the  fear  that  he  might 
never  come  back.  Some  have  not  come  back.  And 
here  are  other  young  men  going  overseas,  to  the 
front  without  question;  we  trust  and  pray  they  will 
come  back.  But  we  could  not  cross  the  street  to 
say:  "Good-bye,  God  bless  you?"  They  have  not 
sailed  yet,  though  they  are  on  their  way  West 
already,  and  we  can  still  reach  them  with  some 
word  of  greeting,  some  token  of  appreciation,  some 
offering  to  help  them  in  their  work. 

No  doubt  the  Passionist  Congregation  can  take 
care  of  its  members,  but  the  send-off  should  be  the 


spontaneous  tribute  of  the  laity.  These  six  men 
have  to  be  equipped  and  conveyed  to  their  distant 
field  of  action.  They  must  have  some  kind  of  a 
lodging;  a  tiny  chapel,  if  possible.  And  if  we  put 
the  means  in  their  hands  the  works  of  their  Mission, 
and  its  fruits,  will  be  multiplied.  The  first  China 
Mission  of  the  Passionists!  How  the  heart  of  St. 
Paul  of  the  Cross,  that  great  Apostle,  must  thrill 
with  joy  of  it  in  Heaven! 

Men,  women  and  children,  if  you  have  a  dime 
to  spare,  or  a  quarter,  or  a  dollar,  or  one  hundred 
dollars — or  a  thousand — say  good-bye  with  it  to  the 
Missionaries,  and  wish  them  good-luck.  Shake 
hands  with  them,  for  they  are  going  over  a  wider 
sea  than  the  soldier  went,  and: 

"Give  them  a  cheer  boys For  God's  sake 

Give  them  a  cheer!" 

Note:    Anyone  wishing  to  address  the  Missionaries 

may  do  so.      THE  SIGN,  West  Hoboken,  N.  J. 


Winnoxtfings  of  Wisdom 


Don't  try  to  censor  the  films,  censor  the  audiences. 

— Collier's 

Where  one  saloon  is  closed,  three  speak-easys  open. 

— N.  Y.  Tribune 

Vanity  is  a  centipede  with  corns  on  every  foot. 

— Lord  Roseberry 

If  you  will  not  go  through  the  stage  knowing  or 
doing  a  thing  badly  or  imperfectly,  you  never 
will  know  it  or  be  able  to  do  it  well. 

— Jos.  Rickaby,  S.  J. 

I  would  not  give  much  for  that  man's  faith  that  did 
not  make  the  man  dangerous  to  every  dishonest 
trade  and  every  dangerous  tendency. 

— Rev.  Home 

Better  swallow  your  good  jest  than  lose  your  good 
friend.  — Pittsburgh  Dispatch 


Our  deeds  go  before  us  to  open  or  to  bar  the  way. 

— Bishop  Spaulding 


Without  sorrow  life  glares: 
merciful  shadows. 


it  has  no  half-tones  or 
— Anna  R.  Brown 


Thou  shalt  not  let  thy  senses  make  a  playground 
of  thy  mind.  — Voice  of  the  Silence 

Succeed  and  you  have  simply  laid  another  pole 
across  the  hurdle.  — Geo.  Ade 

With  the  Greeks  the  women  of  the  house  sat  at  the 
loom,  with  us  they  sit  at  the  piano.  But  it  may 
be  doubted  whether  our  lives  are  more  filled 
with  music  than  were  theirs. 

— Bishop  Spaulding 

The  Supreme  courage  of  life  is  the  courage  of  the 
soul.  — Wm.  George  Jordan 


ONE  day,  at  a  most  inconvenient  moment,  just 
as  Father  Monsabre,  the  famous  preacher  of 
Notre  Dame  was  preparing  to  enter  the  pulpit, 
a  lady  came  to  him  with  many  airs  and  redundancies, 
told     him     that     her     conscience     troubled     her 


greatly,  because  she  had  that  morning  admired 
herself  in  the  looking-glass  more  than  usual, 
thinking  how  very  pretty  she  was.  Whereupon  he 
answered :  "Go  in  peace,  my  child,  a  mistake  is  not 
a  sin." 


The  Wkite   Rose  of  Lucca 

Tke  Stop?   of  Gemma  Galgani 

MATTHEW   KUEBEL 


5 — Sweetness    and   Strength — (continued) 


^^^^HE  King  of  Heaven,  besides  granting  her 
a  w\  other  favors  such  as  those  already  referred 
^^^V  to,  often  accommodated  Himself  to  her  low- 
liness and  came  to  her  as  a  little  infant, 
either  in  the  arms  of  His  Immaculate  Mother  or 
alone,  and  would  permit  Himself  to  be  taken  up  in 
the  arms  of  the  seraphic  girl  and  to  be  showered 
with  her  ardent  caresses. 

The  Queen  of  Heaven,  for  whom  Gemma  cher- 
ished an  ardent  filial  love,  favored  the  devoted  child 
with  her  visible  presence.  At  one  time  the  Virgin 
Mary  would  come  and  speak  to  Gemma  with  maternal 
tenderness ;  at  another  time  she  would  take  Gemma 
into  her  lap  and  pressing  the  sweet  child  to  her 
immaculate  bosom,  would  instruct  her  in  the  love 
of  Jesus.  At  such  times  Gemma  would  be  enraptur- 
ed at  the  unspeakable  beauty  and  graciousness  of 
her  Heavenly  Mother  and  would  be  almost  beside 
herself  with  joy.  "Oh!  Father,"  she  once  said  to 
her  director,  "how  beautiful  Our  Heavenly  Mother 
is!  Though  I  have  often  seen  her,  yet  my  desire 
to  see  her  again,  remains." 

gNOTHER  heavenly  privilege  Gemma  enjoyed 
was  the  constant  and  visible  presence  of  her 
Guardian  Angel.  The  holy  Guardian  was 
wont  to  come  to  her  and  pray  with  her;  hover  over 
her  with  out-stretched  wings  as  if  to  protect  her; 
would  dictate,  while  she  sat  and  wrote,  a  message 
to  someone  in  this  world  or  an  important  lesson 
in  the  spiritual  life.  If,  forgetful  of  the  lapse 
of  time,  she  happened  to  remain  too  long  in  church, 
he  would  come  and  remind  her  that  it  was  time  to 
go,  and  would  then  accompany  her  home.  Gemma 
on  her  side  was  most  grateful  to  the  angel.  "Dear 
Angel,"  she  would  say,  "I  so  love  you.  .  .because 
you  teach  me  to  love  Jesus."  Having  unbounded 
confidence  in  him  she  talked  to  him  familiarly; 
gave  him  messages  (sealed  letters)'  to  the  blessed  in 
heaven,  especially  to  heaven's  Queen,  and  sent  him 
on  missions  to  people  in  this  world.  More  than 
once  it  happened  that  whole  troupes  of  the  blessed 


spirits  came  to  celebrate  with  her  the  holy  praises 
of  God. 

It  will  be  well  not  to  omit  another  touching 
expression  of  Gemma's  charming  simplicity.  For 
a  long  time  her  idea  of  the  marvellous  favors  just 
described  was  that  they  were  the  usual  thing  in 
God's  service,  and  that  Our  Lord,  the  Virgin  Mary, 
the  angels,  were  quite  ready  to  give  visible  audience 
on  demand  to  any  other  of  God's  servants.  Thus 
in  writing  by  command  of  Heaven  to  her  director 
about  any  matter,  if  she  feared  that  she  had  not 
been  quite  clear,  she  would  add:  "Ask  Jesus  about 
it  and  make  Him  explain  it  to  you  better,"  and 
once,  when  in  order  to  try  her  the  angel  was  "a 
little  severe,"  she  prayed  "that  the  others  would 
not  see  him  so  angry;  for  if  they  did,  no  one  would 
come  near  him." 

How  truly  were  Our  Lord's  own  words  to 
Gemma  verified  in  her,  namely,  that  He  loves  to 
be  with  humble  and  childlike  souls.  The  sweet 
odor  of  her  virtues — a  fragrance  that  is  destined 
to  fill  the  whole  world, — penetrated  into  heaven  and 
attracted  its  blessed  inhabitants  to  our  sin-stained 
earth. 

Though  so  simple  and  so  lowly  of  heart,  we 
must  not  forget  that  Gemma  possessed,  as  I  have 
said,  the  opposite  trait  of  high  moral  strength, 
which,  regulated,  sanctified,  augmented  by  grace, 
she  used  solely  for  the  noble  end  of  self-conquest. 
Such  were  the  vigorous  earnestness  and  constancy 
of  her  efforts  for  self-mastery,  that  very  early  she 
became  crucified  in  body  and  soul, — an  adult  in  all 
the  virtues  and  fitted  for  the  sublimest  gifts  of 
heaven. 

eEMMA  began  to  strive  for  self-mastery  at  the 
very  dawn  of  reason  at  which  time  she  com- 
menced to  lead  the  spiritual  life.  Beginning 
with  the  humbler  forms  of  detachment,  she  subdued 
every  inclination  for  worldly  pleasures  and  amuse- 
ments, and  for  all  finery  and  vain  show — a  great 
sacrifice  in  a  woman,  and  one  that  requires  a  deter- 


THE  +SIGN 


mined  will  to  achieve.  Then  bringing  one  by  one 
all  her  senses  into  perfect  control,  she  never  relented 
in  her  declaration  of  war  on  her  natural  impulses : 
"I  will  give  them  no  rest  until  I  find  them  dead 
within  me." 

She  labored  with  unwearying  industry  to  con- 
quer the  natural  craving  for  food;  and  so  many 
and  various  were  the  sacrifices  to  which  she  resorted, 
that  she  managed  to  hide  to  some  extent  her  tem- 
perance, and  at  the  same  time  to  lead  a  life  of  almost 
unbroken  fast.  Not  satisfied  with  what  she  could 
accomplish  with  a  firm  will  sustained  by  ordinary 
grace,  she  prayed  to  be  deprived  of  the  sense  of 
taste — a  request  that  was  no  sooner  made  than 
granted.  Henceforth,  food  and  drink  gave  Gemma 
no  more  pleasure  than  so  much  straw  and  water. 

Her  eyes  and  tongue  came  in  for  a  share  of 
this  salutary  discipline.  She  was  as  reluctant  to 
indulge  in  idle  talk  as  to  listen  to  it.  although  she 
was  ready  and  pleased  to  speak  to  a  few  intimate 
friends  about  holy  things.  Very  rarely  did  anyone 
see  her  eyes,  for  on  all  occasions,  but  without  any 
suggestion  of  affectation,  she  kept  them  lowered. 
Gemma's  spiritual  advisors  seldom  allowed  her  to 
practise  severe  bodily  penances,  such  as  the  use  of 
the  hair-shirt,  the  iron  chain  and  the  scourge;  but 
when  the  coveted  leave  was  granted,  for  ever  so 
short  a  time,  she  rejoiced  as  at  the  reception  of  a 
very  great  boon. 

Gemma  was  wisely  restrained  from  practising 
severe  corporal  penances,  for  the  physical  and 
spiritual  sufferings  of  which  she  was  the  recipient 
direct  from  the  hand  of  God,  were  more  than  suf- 
ficent  to  make  her  a  martyr.  The  cruelty  of  the  war 
that,  with  God's  permission,  Satan  waged  against 
her,  more  than  compensated  for  the  penances  she 
was  forbidden  to  practise.  During  several  years 
Gemma  was  made  the  victim,  often  for  whole  days 
and  nights  together,  of  the  most  savage  assaults  of 
the  Evil  One,  whose  rage  and  hatred  for  her  eminent 
virtues  knew  no  bounds.  The  welts  and  bruises, 
the  black  hair  scattered  on  the  floor,  the  loud  noises 
heard  in  her  room,  were  terrible  witnesses  to  both 
the  reality  and  the  fury  of  these  attacks. 

There  is  no  need  here  for  more  than  a  passing 
reference  to  the  excruciating  martyrdom,  a  hundred 
times  endured,  of  her  participation  in  all  the  pains, 
internal  and  external,  of  the  Savior's  Passion.  It 
is  pertinent  to  remark,  however,  that  such  was  the 
heroism  of  the  delicate  young  woman,  that  she 
welcomed   the   periodic   returns   of   these   torments 


with  eager  anticipation  and  keen  joy.  More  excru- 
ciating than  even  the  crucifixion  of  her  bodily 
members,  was  the  internal  martyrdom  she  endured 
from  the  cessation,  intermittent  at  first,  but  after- 
wards complete,  of  her  supernatural  gifts — a  cross 
that  was  the  instrument  of  such  intense  bitterness, 
that  the  sundown  of  her  life  was  dyed  in  the  deepest 
possible  crimson  of  sacrificial  grief. 

aS  has  ever  been  the  case  in  God's  service,  so 
it  was  with  Gemma — sacrifice  was  in  many 
ways  its  own  reward.  With  painful  industry 
she  sowed  the  seed  of  virtue,  and,  rejoicing,  she 
harvested  the  golden  sheaves  of  precious  spiritual 
treasure.  Sacrifice  and  suffering  were  the  source 
whence  she  derived  the  ease  with  which  her  soul  was 
able  at  all  times  to  make  sublime  flights  in  realms 
supernatural ;  whence  she  drew  that  perpetual  peace 
and  joy  that  nothing,  except  the  fear  of  sin  and  of 
the  secret  judgments  of  God,  could  disturb.  But  her 
stainless  purity  and  burning  love  were  the  most 
precious  spoils  of  her  victory. 

To  acquire  in  an  eminent  degree  and  to  pre- 
serve immaculate,  the  adorable  virtue  of  purity 
was  an  object  of  Gemma's  life-long  concern.  This 
virtue  was  the  inspiration  of  her  heroic  constancy 
in  the  practise  of  penance  of  mortification  and  of 
prayer;  of  her  anxious  care  to  avoid  the  most  in- 
'nocent  liberty  that  might  discolor  this  beautiful 
flower;  of  the  ardent  devotion  she  cherished  for  the 
Immaculate  Virgin.  The  eminence  she  acquired  in 
it  seems  to  have  been  reflected  in  her  physical  form. 
Her  body  appeared  as  though  fashioned  from  some 
crystalline  material,  which  only  half  concealed  the 
resplendent  beauty  of  the  soul.  To  Gemma's  ex- 
cellence in  the  holy  virtue,  God  bore  witness  when 
He  said  to  a  holy  soul :  "I  have  always  guarded  the 
purity  of  this  child's  heart... and  have  preserved 
her  as  a  spotless  lily  of  paradise  in  My  pure  love." 
He  permitted  the  fragrance  of  this  lily  to  be  per- 
ceived even  by  the  children  of  earth,  for  we  are  told 
that,  whereas  she  would  never  use  perfume  of  any 
kind,  her  room  and  the  things  she  touched  often 
exhaled  a  heavenly  fragrance. 

The  fire  of  divine  love  that  the  wood  of  the 
cross  enkindled  in  this  privileged  soul  was  seraphic. 
Only  the  immeasurable  force  and  earnestness  of 
her  own  words  can  suggest  how  great  was  that  inner 
fire.  Love  was  the  power  which  taught  her  that 
fiery  eloquence  which  she  lavished  in  burning 
prayers  upon  Jesus  Crucified  and  in  the  sacrament 


THE  1*  SIGN 


and  attention  to  prayer  as  religious  do.  But  from  the 
Passion  of  Our  Lord  they  will  learn  to  love  the 
practice  of  prayer.  By  remembering  now  and  then 
the  sorrows  and  sufferings  of  the  Sacred  Heart  of 
Christ,  thoughts  arise  in  their  minds  that  become 
fervent  prayers.  At  the  beginning  of  His  Passion, 
the  Divine  Master  said:  "Pray,  lest  you  enter  into 
temptation."  If  members  heed  this  advice,  they  will 
pray  for  protection  against  evil;  they  will  pray  for 
strength  and  help  to  be  virtuous,  to  be  obedient  to 
God's  law,  and  to  keep  their  souls  unstained  by  sin. 
If  members  recall  the  sufferings  Our  Lord  went 
through  to  make  reparation  for  sin,  then  when 
tempted  to  do  wrong,  they  will  pray  until  the  tempta- 
tion is  overcome.  Instead  of  yielding  to  their  unruly 
desires  or  the  suggestions  of  temptation,  they  will 
resist  all  sinful  inclinations  for  the  sake  of  Him 
Who  suffered  so  much  for  them.  If  members  have 
the  spirit  of  their  Archconfraternity,  they  will  pray 
that  no  sins  will  be  committed,  because  sin  renews 
the  Passion  of  Christ.  They  will  pray  in  reparation 
for  the  offenses  that  caused  the  sufferings  of  Our 
Lord. 

Our  Divine  Savior  teaches  prayer  to  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Archconfraternity  by  His  example  in 
the  garden  of  Gethsemane.  Again  and  again  He 
repeated:  "Father,  not  My  Will  but  Thine  be  done." 
He  prayed  when  it  was  hard  to  pray.  He  prayed 
with  reverence,  with  confidence,  with  resignation,  and 
with  perseverance.  This  prayer  of  Christ  at  the 
beginning  of  His  Passion  should  encourage  the  mem- 
bers to  recommend  to  God  their  troubles  and  suffer- 
ings. As  Our  Lord  did,  so  let  them  do;  they  should 
have  recourse  to  God  in  prayer  when  they  desire 
to  accomplish  some  good  work,  or  to  obtain  some 
blessing. 

At  the  end  of  His  Passion,  Jesus  taught  men  to 
pray  in  the  spirit  of  charity.  Agonizing  on  the  Cross 
and  tormented  by  His  enemies,  He  prayed  for  His 
tormentors:  "Father,  forgive  them;  for  they  know 
not  what  they  do."  The  members  of  the  Archcon- 
fraternity thus  learn  to  pray  for  others,  to  pray  even 
for  those  who  cause  them  suffering  or  injure  them. 
And  the  last  prayer  of  Christ  Crucified,  "Father, 
into  Thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit,"  shows  the 
members  how  they  ought  to  place  themselves  and 
their  affairs  in  the  hands  of  their  Heavenly  Father, 
so  that  when  the  end  of  life  draws  nigh  they  may 
give  themselves  to  God's  keeping  for  eternity. 

The  success  of  missions  and  retreats  and  meet- 
ings of  the  Archconfraternity  lies  in  the  spread  of 


true  devotion  to  the  Sacred  Passion.  In  the  degree 
in  which  the  members  have  the  spirit  of  their  society, 
they  will  pray  that  more  and  more  of  the  faithful 
will  come  to  know  and  gratefully  remember  the 
Sufferings  and  Death  of  Christ  Crucified. 

Prayer  and  penance  go  hand  in  hand.  The  Pas- 
sion was  Our  Lord's  prayer  for  the  redemption  of 
mankind.  It  was  also  the  supreme  sacrifice,  which 
He  offered  to  God,  for  the  redemption  of  mankind. 

y^^HE  spirit  of  penance,  which  the  members  of 
V/J  the  Archconfraternity  imbibe  from  the  know- 
ledge of  Our  Lord's  Passion,  is  self-sacrifice 
and  self-control.  They  know  the  Divine  Master's 
reproach  "Could  you  not  watch  one  hour  with  Me?" 
would  be  said  to  them  also,  were  they  to  consider 
their  own  desires  rather  than  their  duties.  It  means 
fidelity  and  generosity,  no  matter  what  the  suffering, 
in  doing  those  things,  that  God  wants  them  to  do. 
When  the  members  keep  in  mind  how  willingly  and 
how  generously  Christ  suffered  for  their  sake,  it 
becomes  easy  for  them  to  sacrifice  their  own  opin- 
ions, to  ignore  their  own  wishes,  to  despise  their 
own  feelings,  to  please  Him,  to  serve  others,  and  to 
sanctify  themselves.  Very  often  however  this  is 
real  penance.  Very  often  it  is  known  to  God  alone. 
He  appreciates  and  blesses  self-sacrifice  even  when 
others  return  evil  for  good  and  ingratitude  for  bless- 
ings received. 

Another  view  of  penance  is  that  of  reparation 
for  sin.  "Weep  not  for  Me,  but  for  yourselves  and 
for  your  children,"  Jesus  said  to  the  women  of 
Jerusalem.  St.  Paul  the  Apostle  practiced  penance 
to  keep  himself  free  from  sin  and  because  of  the 
Crucifixion  of  Christ:  "I  crucify  the  flesh,"  he  says, 
"with  its  vices  and  concupiscences."  And  again  he 
says:  "With  Christ,  I  am  nailed  to  the  Cross."  The 
self-control  which  Our  Suffering  Savior  asks  of  the 
members  is  the  control  of  their  thoughts,  their 
speech,  and  their  temper.  Thus  they  do  penance, 
and  make  reparation  for  sin,  and  show  the  true  spirit 
of  the  Archconfraternity,  when  for  the  sake  Jesus 
Crucified,  they  imitate  Him,  and  sacrifice  them- 
selves, deny  themselves,  and  carry  the  cross  with 
Him.  "I  thirst,"  cried  Our  Lord  on  the  Cross.  So 
it  should  be  the  ambition  of  members  to  suffer  with 
Christ,  to  share  in  His  Passion,  "to  fill  up  whatever 
may  be  wanting  in  them"  of  the  Passion. 

This  is  the  spirit  of  the  Archconfraternity,  to 
pray  and  to  sacrifice  that  Jesus  Crucified  may  be 
known,  loved,  and  glorified. 


39 


Index   to   Worthwhile   Reading 


THE  SOCIAL  MISSION  OF  CHARITY.     By 

William  J.  Kerby,  Professor  of  Sociology,  Catholic 
University,  Washington,  D.  C.  New  York:  Mac- 
Millan  Co.     Price  $2.25. 

This  volume  is  the  second  of  the  series  which 
is  beir.g  issued  by  the  Social  Action  Department  of 
the  National  Catholic  Welfare  Council.  The  day 
is  at  hand  when  every  one  will  know  what  N.  C. 
W.  C.  means.  This  volume  and  others  to  follow 
represent  the  desire  of  the  Department  to  study  the 
relations  of  the  Church  to  proverty  and  the  bearing 
of  our  new  insight  into  social  conditions  and  pro- 
cesses on  the  principles  and  methods  of  Catholic 
charity.  Doctor  Kerby's  educational  work,  of  which 
this  book  is  the  testament — not  his  last,  We  may 
hope — justly  entitles  him  to  a  very  high  ranking 
among  the  noblest  benefactors  of  the  poor.  His 
book  will  revolutionize  the  public  attitude  and  out- 
look towards  the  problem  of  poverty  and  by  conse- 
quence t.'wards  the  problem  of  charity.  The  pitiful 
evil  of  poverty  is  so  widespread  that  it  must  be 
spoken  of  as  social.  It  is  inseparable  from  the  con- 
dition that  prevails  in  society  and  so  must  be  spoken 
of  as  social.  The  consequence  is  inevitable. 
Nothing  shoit  of  the  converging  efforts  of  all  the 
forces  of  the  State  will  ever  effectually  deal  with 
this  problem.  An  evil  which  is  social  imposes  upon 
charity  a  social  mission.  Newer  methods,  newer 
systems  are  required.  "Modern  conditions  force  us 
to  deal  with  poverty  in  the  aggregate  as  a  problem 
of  society  and  the  State  and  of  Christianity  no  less 
than  as  a  problem  of  the  individual.  Only  when  we 
look  upon  poverty  as  organic  can  we  comprehend 
the  pitiable  inadequacy  of  relief  alone.  Only  then 
can  we  gain  insight  into  its  real  nature,  only  then 
can  we  feel  the  stirring  impulses  that  lead  us  to  deal 
with  processes,  institutions,  conditions  and  relations 
in  our  effort  to  conquer  it.  This  organic  view  forces 
us  to  study  the  ethical  codes  that  prevail  in  life,  the 
relation  of  the  social  classes,  the  property  system, 
the  social  philosophy  of  the  strong,  the  ineffective- 
ness of  the  discipline  of  religion,  the  conduct  of  in- 
dustry, the  process  of  legislation  and  the  tyranny  of 
conditions  in  the  lives  of  the  weak.  .  .  .It  is  possible 
to  see  nothing  in  poverty  except  the  plight  of  the 
individual  and  to  see  no  duty  except  that  of  relief, 
comfort  and  advice  as  cases  present  themselves. 
It  is  possible  to  shut  one's  eyes  to  the  wider  bearings 
of  poverty  but  it  can  be  done  only  in  defiance  of 
scholarly  standards  and  at  the  cost  of  perpetuating 
the  misery  of  the  poor." 

One  need  but  read  the  chapter  on  The  Back- 


ground of  Poverty  to  realize  how  far-reaching  the 
scope  of  Christian  effort  must  be  if  the  axe  is  ever 
to  be  laid  at  the  root  of  the  tree  which  sends  forth 
the  ever-multiplying  fruit  of  poverty.  Our  present 
social  fabric  accounts  for  a  condition  that,  according 
to  some,  leaves  ten  million  persons  but  one  week 
removed  from  destitution,  to  say  nothing  of  what 
such  a  condition  brings  into  the  whole  life  of  men, 
women  and  children  in  the  form  of  crime.  Truly, 
as  we  gain  insight  into  the  forces  which  make  the 
poor  dependent  and  as  we  grow  in  understanding 
of  the  process  that  keeps  them  so,  we  find  need  of 
foresight,  strength  and  system.  If  we  look  upon 
poverty  as  a  state  of  society  rather  than  of  the  indi- 
vidual we  become  convinced  of  the  necessity  of 
organizing  the  forces  which  can  act  upon  society, 
awaken  its  conscience  and  remedy  existing  con- 
ditions. 

The  N.  C.  W.  C.  is  nothing  if  not  practical  and 
that  they  are  efficient  every  man  who  reads  the  work 
they  are  here  sponsoring  will  readily  admit.  They 
are  to  be  congratulated  on  having  the  services  of 
Doctor  Kerby  than  whom  there  is  no  abler  sociolo- 
gist in  the  country.  He  is  at  his  best  in  this  particu- 
lar work.  With  the  great  mind  of  the  scholar  and 
the  great  heart  of  the  priest  he  voices  the  social 
aims'  of  the  N.  C.  W.  C.  It  remains  for  Catholics 
the  country  over  to  correspond  generously  in  the 
great  work  of  social  reform  herein  proposed.  Our 
hope  is  that  the  keynote  sounded  by  Dr.  Kerby  may 
be  carried  to  the  ears  of  the  country  for  it  must 
compel  the  mind  and  heart  to  realize  that  the 
country's  energies  have  to  be  enlisted,  have  to  be 
won  and  marshalled  to  heal  this  social  sore.  The 
wider  the  circulation  of  The  Social  Mission  of 
Charity  the  sooner  will  amelioration  of  the  poor 
be  brought  about. 

"JESUS  CHRIST,  THE  KING  OF  HEARTS." 
By  Rev.  A.  Lepicier,  O.  S.  M.  Bensiger  Bros.  Price 
$1.50. 

This  is  a  devotional  study  of  The  Sacred  Heart 
by  the  well-known  theologian,  Fr.  Lepicier.  Called 
to  preach  a  sermon  on  The  Sacred  Heart,  induced 
the  author  to  make  a  closer  study  of  the  inner 
meaning  of  this  beautiful  devotion.  His  attention 
centered  on  a  particular  phase  of  the  subject:  the 
regal  dignity  and  sovereignty  of  the  Heart  of  Jesus 
over  our  hearts.  The  book  is  a  beautiful  com- 
mentary on  the  invocation  in  the  Litany  of  the 
Sacred  Heart,  "Heart  of  Jesus,  the  King  and  Center 
of  our  Hearts." 


A  NATIONAL       Sj>     CATHOLIC 
MONTIiLY        MACAZ1NEX 


3      VOL.  I. 


FEBRUARY,    1922 


Ho.  7 


^ft^^l^.lifttrcw^ 


BENEDICT    XV. 

ON  January  22,  Benedict  XV.  died,  the  259th.  successor  in  a  direct  line  from  St.  Peter. 
His  demise  was  quite  sudden.  Particularly  did  it  seem  so  to  us  who  recall  the 
earnestness  with  which  he  addressed  us  on  the  quite  recent  occasion  of  the 
canonization  of  St.  Gabriel  and  the  animation  with  which  he  participated  as  the 
central  figure  in  that  splendid  ceremony. 

His  was  a  short  reign  in  that  heroic  line  of  Christ's  Vicars — the  first  fifty  of  whom 
were  every  one  a  martyr.  Yet  who  dare  say  that  his  predecessors  defying  the  Neros,  the 
Julians,  the  Henrys,  had  to  exercise  greater  fortitude  than  he.  Into  his  pontificate  were 
crowded  the  years  of  unparalleled  warfare  and  acrimonious  readjustment. 

Benedict's  pontificate  is  reviewed  with  glowing  sympathy  and  sincere  gratitude  by  the 
press  of  all  nations  and  by  leaders  of  every  creed.  Belated  credit  is  yielded  to  him  for  the 
best  points  for  peace  adopted  in  the  Conference  and  for  the  most  practical  phrases  echoed  by 
Mr.  Wilson.  In  the  prospective  the  world  marvels  at  the  justice,  firmness  and  impartiality 
with  which  he  responded  to  the  partisan  pleas  of  his  children  throughout  the  world  conflict. 
To  the  enormous  strain  all  this  entailed  can  reasonably  be  attributed  his  apparently  prema- 
ture demise.  Briefly  may  it  be  said  of  him  that  he  measured  up  fully  to  the  ideal  the  world 
has  formed  of  the  Holy  See  as  the  most  potent  and  far-reaching  influence  in  civilization. 

While  most  of  the  encomiums  dwelt  upon  his  useful  life  we  must  be  grateful  to 
God  for  the  rare  edification  the  Holy  Father  imparted  to  us  all  in  his  last  hours — his 
oblation  of  himself  to  secure  peace  for  the  world,  his  ardent  yearning  for  the  fortifying  rites 
and  sacraments  of  the  Church,  the  consolation  he  found  in  the  presence  of  the  sacred 
mysteries.  Thus  is  a  writer  in  the  Washington  Herald  inspired  to  say:  "The  last  hours  of 
Benedict  were  quite  exquisite  in  the  sense  that  they  were  delicately  beautiful,  quite  what 
we  like  to  imagine  and  so  seldom  find  in  reality. 

"He  was  himself  the  first  to  realize  that  he  had  but  a  little  way  to  go  and  that  his 
race  was  nearly  run.  And  he  was  not  afraid  that  it  was  so.  He  looked  out  into  the  unknown 
as  some  tired  traveler  coming  to  the  crest  of  a  hill  who  admires  the  grandeur  of  an  inspiring 
valley  spreading  out  before  him.  The  years  rolled  back  and  he  was  content  as  when  a  boy 
he  dreamed  of  greatness  in  the  pleasant  meadows  and  hills  of  his  home  land. 

"He  was  neither  afraid  nor  unwilling,  and  took  the  last  sacrament  of  the  Church 
while  conscious.  His  regret,  if  any,  was  expressed  in  his  last  words,  'Peace,  peace,  I  would 
willingly  give  my  life  for  the  peace  of  the  world.'    He  did." 


In   and   Out  of  Umbria 

A  Franciscan  Pilgrimage 

By  Louis  H.  Wetmore 


X  APOLOGIZE  at  the  commencement  of  this 
article — if  it  can  be  called  an  article — to 
whomsoever  among  its  readers  is  offended 
by  its  lack  of  form,  its  tendency  to  meander 
and  its  lack  of  purpose.  I  am  altogether  in  agree- 
ment with  the  offended  reader.  As  a  literary  critic 
I  am  for  the  balance  and  proportion  in  writing,  for 
an  artistic  presentation  of  the  data  of  a  pilgrimage, 
and  I  attempt  to  achieve  these  things  when  I  write. 
But  in  this  case  there  is  no  use  in  attempting  the 
impossible.  It  is  impossible  in  this  pseudo-article, 
because  I  have  in  my  mind  an  impression  of  Umbria 
that  is  neither  balanced  nor  proportioned;  I  have 
but  an  impressionistic  memory  of  things  seen,  vague 
changes  of  scene  and  points  of  view  which  take  no 
definite  outline  and  which  make  it  extremely  difficult 
to  give  a  clear  impression  of  my  Franciscan  pilgri- 
mage. I  am  depressed,  and  have  a  feeling  that  an 
unkind  critic  will  arise  and  say  that  all  that  I  write 
is  but  an  unpleasant  mist  arising  from  the  ditch  of 
my  egoism;  in  other  words  that  I  think  things 
important  simply  because  I  have  seen  them,  and  not 
because  they  are  really  important  of  themselves. 
Perhaps  this  critic  would  be  right.  Yet  I  am  sure 
that  I  have  some  things  to  describe  which  are  of 
vast  significance  however  inadequately  I  may  des- 
cribe them.     If  I  can  only  begin 

Umbria  is  Italian  but  primarily  Franciscan  land. 
Seven  hundred  years  have  passed,  yet  the  ghost  of 
the  Little  Grey  Man  still  haunts  the  streets  of  Assisi, 
and  wanders  through  that  country  of  blue  skies 
and  the  grey  sheen  of  olive  trees,  of  gayly  colored 
frescoed  churches  and  bleak  grey  hermitages. 

The  tale  of  Francis  needs  no  repeating  here. 
The  life  of  the  Poverello  of  Assisi  is  well  known  to 
all  true  Catholics.  Nor  is  it  untrue  to  say  that  above 
all  other  Catholic  saints  Francis  has  caught  the 
imagination  and  love  of  Protestants.  Protestants 
have  misunderstood  and  perverted  the  life  and 
ideals  of  Assisi's  foremost  citizen;  but  they  love 
him.  And  that  is  much.  There  are  tales  to  be 
gathered  in  Umbria  of  strange  conversions  among 
Protestant  travellers,  even  among  those  who  flit 
through  that  beautiful  province  with  the  rapidity 
typical  of  Cook's  Tourists.  Take  Joannes  Jorgensen, 
the  great  Danish  convert,  as  an  example.    The  life 


of  the  Little  Poor  Man  of  Assisi  plays  havoc  with 
the  smug  piety  and  muscular  Christianity  of  modern 
Protestantism.  Protestant  intellectual  pride  has 
bowed  low  before  his  tomb  in  San  Francisco  on  the 
hill,  or  in  the  garden  of  roses  at  Our  Lady  of  the 
Angels  below  in  the  valley. 

XT  is  related  in  that  exquisite  book,  The  Little 
Flowers  of  St.  Francis,  that  one  of  the  earliest 
acts  of  the  Saint  after  his  conversion  to  godly 
living,  was  to  perform  penance  for  past  sins  by 
rebuilding  with  his  own  hands  a  chapel  near  Assisi 
which  had  fallen  into  disrepair.  This  chapel  was 
of  Saint  Damian.  The  priest  of  that  little  church 
rejoiced  in  the  aid  given  him;  and  in  turn  gave 
food  and  shelter  to  him  who  labored  for  the  resur- 
rection of  God's  fallen  house.  So  Francis  worked 
for  many  days,  collecting  the  materials  for  his  build- 
ing throughout  his  city  and  the  surrounding  country. 

Day  by  day  in  the  rags  of  his  poverty  Francis 
walked  through  the  city's  streets  singing  his  song 
after  the  manner  of  the  troubadours : 

Who  will  give  stones  for  the  building  of  St. 
Damian's  ? 

Who  gives  one  stone  shall  have  one  reward ; 

Who  gives  two  stones  shall  have  two  rewards; 

Who  gives  three  stones  shall  have  three  rewards. 

The  townsfolk  ran  to  hear  him.  It  was  such 
an  odd  sight  to  see  Francis  Bernardone,  the  Beau 
Brummel  of  his  town,  once  clothed  in  fashion,  now 
in  beggar's  rags.  Many  jeered;  some  threw  stones 
at  him  in  anger;  others  gave  him  stones  in  charity. 
Thus  he  returned  to  Saint  Damian's  heavily  ladened. 

With  the  aid  of  the  first  disciples  and  friendly 
neighbors  the  walls  of  the  church  rose  again  and 
a  roof  again  kept  the  rain  from  God's  altar.  Francis 
would  stand  by  the  roadside  when  human  aid  was 
lacking,  and  cry  to  the  passers-by:  "Help  us  with 
your  aid,  good  people.  For  the  chapel  of  San 
Damiano  will  one  of  these  days  be  a  church  for  holy 
women  whose  lives  will  be  given  for  the  glory  of 
God." 

Now  this  was  a  prophecy;  because  not  so  long 
after  the  place  became  the  first  convent  of   Poor 


THE  f  SIGN 


Clares,   who    by   prayer   and    fasting   aided   God's 
Church  and  the  Order  of  Friars  Minor. 

[AN  DAMIANO  exists  to-day  almost  as  it  did 
in  Francis's  life-time.  This  little  place  is  the 
real  cradle  of  the  Franciscan  Order.  Rever- 
ent hands  have  kept  it  in  repair.  No  false  restoration 
has  played  havoc  with  its  simplicity.  A  wee  place 
this  convent,  no  longer  that  of  Poor  Clares,  who  have 
moved  to  the  larger  convent  of  Santa  Chiara  on  the 
hill  above,  but  a  convent  of  the  Friars  Minor  of  the 
strict  observance. 

I  have  made  two  pilgrimages  to  Assisi.  It  is 
a  medieval  city  to-day.  Houses  and  churches  are  of 
the  medieval  time.  The  ruined  castle  on  the  highest 
of  the  Assisian 
hills  crowns  the 
ancient  walls 
and  houses  of  a 
city  scarcely 
changed  since 
the  13th  century. 
But  there  is 
nothing  that  so 
"  medievalizes  " 
one  in  this 
peaceful  Umbri- 
an  village  on  the 
hills,  than  to 
hear  the  quiet  of 
a  street  broken 
by  the  tap  of  a 
friar's  sandles,  and  to  see  some  son  of  Francis 
bearing  his  basket  in  hand  or  on  head,  begging  the 
community's  bread  from  door  to  door.  Success 
does  not  always  crown  the  frair's  begging.  Not  all 
doors  in  Assisi  open  to  give  the  mendicant  food. 
I  have  seen  him  met  here  with  scowls,  there  with 
cuises.  At  other  doors,  the  good  man  (so  very 
brown;  brown  habit,  brown  legs,  bare  brown  arms, 
tanned  face,  and  long  brown  beard)  will  meet  with 
more  success.  Here  he  will  secure  a  crust  of  bread, 
there  a  half  loaf  of  the  bread  of  yesterday  or  per- 
haps of  the  day  before  that.  A  window  will  open 
and  someone  tosses  a  piece  of  corn  into  the  filling 
basket.  But  the  basket  is  never  filled.  I  have  never 
seen  it  more  than  a  quarter  full  when  he,  dear  son 
of  a  blessed  father,  strode  back  to  San  Damiano 
to  carry  the  day's  food  to  his  brethren.  And  that 
kind  of  thing  goes  on  day  by  day  in  Assisi,  in  rain 
as  well  as  in  fair  weather.    Each  day  the  community 


at  Saint  Damian's  is  fed  with  the  scraps  from  the 
poor  man's  table.  At  times  they  have  enough  to 
eat.  At  other  times  they  have  not  enough  to  eat. 
But  at  all  times  the  Friars  praise  God  for  His  gifts. 
When  I  visited  San  Damiano,  I  was  welcomed 
with  Franciscan  simplicity.  A  portly  friar  (how  did 
he  achieve  it  on  the  husks?)  would  talk  in  a  deep 
bass  when  he  spoke  Italian,  and  in  a  high  falsetto 
when  he  spoke  English  (such  English!),  acted  as  my 
guide.  He  was  a  gentleman  of  leisure  that  morning, 
having  the  by  no  means  arduous  duty  of  spending 
the  morning  in  my  company  showing  me  the  convent. 
At  least  I  hope  he  did  not  find  the  duty  arduous. 
Certainly  he  seemed  much  amused  at  me,  and 
laughed  a  great  deal,  confessing,  as  we  got  to  know 

each  other  bet- 
ter, that  he 
thought  Americ- 
ans" very  queer 
people." 

These  Ameri- 
cans were  al- 
ways in  such  a 
hurry.  And  did 
Americans  ever 
say  their  pray- 
ers? He  didn't 
think  they  did, 
because  he  had 
taken  many  of 
them  through 
the  convent,  and 
left  them  alone  in  the  chapel  for  a  few  moments  of 
devotion;  and  when  he  came  back  he  always  found 
them  hopping  around  the  place  like  grasshoppers. 
They  were  never  still !  Now  the  Italians  were  dif- 
ferent. Once  they  got  on  their  knees  in  the  chapel, 
or  even  in  the  refectory,  one  simply  had  to  drag 
them  away  by  the  scruff  of  their  necks  and  bustle 
them  outdoors  again.  Or  else  no  work  would  ever 
be  done  at  San  Domiano.  But  he  supposed  most 
Americans  were  heretical  dogs  —  why  was  this? 
And  his  blue  eyes  twinkled,  and  he  laughed  and 
chattered  on  like  a  magpie,  happy  in  the  possession 
of  a  Catholic  Americano  who  would  laugh  with  him 
and  let  him  do  the  talking,  and  who  (wonder  of 
wonders!)  had  a  real  Catholic  devotion  for  the 
Blessed  Father. 


© 


HE  chapel  of  the  convent  is  small  and  dimly 
lighted.     Nor  did  I  find  many  of  the  relics 


THE  +  SIGN 


which  I  had  hoped  to  find  there.  They  still  have, 
however,  the  bell  with  which  St.  Clare  was  in  the 
habit  of  calling  the  Sisters  to  prayer,  and  her  brevi- 
ary, written  in  the  small,  clear  handwriting  of 
Brother  Leo. 
And  choicest  of 
all  the  relics,  the 
tabernacle  made 
of  alabaster  in 
which  Clare  car- 
ried the  Host 
the  day  when 
she  held  it  a- 
loft  over  the 
Saracens,  who 
were  besieging 
her  city,  and 
drove  them  back 
in  confusion  and 
terror. 

Once  at  San 

Damiano  there  was  kept  a  precious  ring  of  St. 
Clare's.  But  in  1615  a  Spanish  Franciscan  vicar- 
general  Game  to  visit  the  convent  with  his  secretary. 
This  gentleman  had  a  great  reverence  for  all  relics 
of  the  Seraphic  Mother  and  a  great  devotion  to  her 
memory.  The  good  Fathers  took  particular  pains 
to  let  him  see  all  that  they  had,  and  to  linger  over 
them  as  long  as  he  wished.  He  left  much  satisfied 
with  their  kindness  and  hospitality.  But,  alas,  the 
next  time  that 
the  relics  were 
shown  to  a 
visitor,  it  was 
found  that  the 
ring  was  miss- 
ing. There  was 
anger  and  a 
miniature  riot  in 
the  convent,  and 
a  great  disturb- 
ance in  the  city 
when  the  news 
of  the  theft  got 
abroad.  Angry 
letters  were  sent 
after  the  Span- 
ish father  on  whom  suspicion  had  fallen.  He  would 
not  affirm  that  he  had  taken  the  ring,  nor  would  he 
deny  that  he  had  taken  it.  All  that  he  would  con- 
descend to  say  was  that  the  ring  was  now  on  its 


way  to  Spain,  and  that  it  would  be  well  taken  care 
of  there.  The  Friars  of  San  Damiano  still  regret 
the  visit  of  that  Spanish  Vicar-general. 


© 


FRANCISCAN   HERMITAGE   ON  AIT.   SUBASIO 


Y    going 

through 
the  little 
chapel  of  the 
Crucified,  where 
God  wrought  the 
great  miracle  of 
the  crucifix  of 
Brother Innocen- 
zo,  painting  the 
crucifix  Himself 
while  the  artist 
brother  slept, 
one  enters  the 
choir  of  St. 
Clare.  The  pho- 
tograph printed 
on  page  7  gives  a  far  better  picture  of  this  choir 
than  I  could  give  in  many  paragraphs  of  descriptive 
writing.  A  plain,  bare  place  with  white-washed 
walls  and  with  worm-eaten  stalls  against  the  walls. 
A  rickety  lectern  stands  in  the  center.  Here  it  was 
that  Francis  hid  from  the  wrath  of  his  father,  while 
the  irate  parent  searched  for  him  throughout  the 
city. 

From  here  one  mounts  a  flight  of  crazy  stairs 
to  the  little  ora- 
tory  of  the 
Seraphic  Mother, 
which  connects 
with  her  cell, 
and  where  at  her 
request  the 
Blessed  Sacra- 
ment was  reserv- 
ed during  her 
last  illness.  This 
is  all  of  the  con- 
vent that  women 
can  see.  The 
rest,  since  the 
day  when  the 
generous  convert 
Lord  Ripon,  ex-viceroy  of  India,  bought  the  convent 
from  the  Italian  government  and  restored  it  to  its 
rightful  owners,  is  "clausura."  Even  the  refectory, 
that  bare,  bleak  dining  hall  with  its  fading  frescoes, 


THE  1*  SIGN 


where  His  Holiness  Innocent  IV  witnessed  the 
miracle  of  the  loaves,  is  shut  off  from  feminine  eyes. 
For  not  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  thanked  God  that 
I  was  not  a  woman!     I  saw  the  refectory. 

On  a  level  with  Clare's  oratory  is,  perhaps,  the 
loveliest  sight  in  the  entire  convent.  Out  of  her 
oratory  extends  a  small  but  dainty  garden  where, 
traditions  tells  us,  the  Saint  used  to  take  her  daily 
exercise,  looking  over  the  broad  Umbrian  valley  and 
at  Montefalco  across  the 
way,  while  she  tended  the 
flowers  she  loved  so  dearly. 
Even  to  this  day  the  friars 
still  garden  a  row  of  them  in 
her  memory. 

The  differences  of  the 
whole  Catholic  world  are  in 
Assisi.  There  is  the  poverty 
of  San  Damiano  and  on  the 
hill  above  the  splendor  of  the 
great  church  of  San  Fran- 
cesco. In  that  great  basilica, 
in  the  lower  church,  sombre 
with  great  pillars  and  lighted 
but  with  lamps  and  the  colors 
of  the  frescoed  walls,  is  the 
shrine  of  //  Poverello.  How 
strange  the  splendor  of  his 
last  resting  place  against 
which  he  would  have  pro- 
tested so  energetically  had 
he  anticipated  the  translation 
of  his  body! 

The  story  of  the  burial 
of  Francis  is  a  commentary 
on  the  loss  of  pristine  pover- 
ty in  the  Order  in  the  very 
first  years  of  its  existence. 
Other  Orders  have  decayed 
in  the  process  of  centuries, 

but  their  first  years  at  least  have  been  founded  on 
the  example  and  the  teachings  of  their  originators. 
Yet  hardly  was  Francis  dead  when  the  Franciscan 
world  was  plunged  into  disorder  and  schism.  Elias, 
Francis'  dearest  spiritual  son,  one  of  the  first  dis- 
ciples, and  apparently  his  devoted  follower,  seized 
control  of  the  Order  soon  after  the  Saint's  death. 
The  prayers  of  Francis  that  Elias  would  follow 
closely  in  his  footsteps  were  not  answered  for  many 
years  to  come.  Elias,  the  Franciscan,  vowed  to 
poverty,  installed  himself  in  palatial  state  as  General 


The 


INTERIOR  OF   THE   PORTICNCULA,   NEAR  ASSISI 


of  the  Order.  His  table  groaned  under  luxuries;  his 
stable  befitted  the  rank  of  a  great  baron;  his  servants 
were  without  number.  Vain  it  was  for  the  remnant 
of  the  Saint's  personal  disciples  to  protest.  Poor 
Brother  Giles  (was  it  not?)  was  scourged  by  order  of 
Elias  for  his  protests  against  the  General's  luxurious 
life.  Other  primitive  followers  of  the  Saint,  who 
remained  faithful  to  Lady  Poverty,  were  driven  into 
exile  or  into  the  hermitages  of  the  Umbrian  hills; 
there  to  weep  over  the  follies 
of  Elias  and  the  destruction 
of  the  Order. 

AN  DAMIANO  and 
the  hermitages  of  the 
hills  were  not  for  Elias. 
Franciscan  churches 
must  reign  with  the  splendor 
of  basilicas.  The  Founder 
himself  must  acknowledge 
the  power  and  value  of  earth- 
ly glory  and  riches!  So 
Elias  conceived  in  his  fertile 
brain  the  idea  of  the  trans- 
lation of  the  body  of  the 
Saint  from  its  first  humble 
burial  place  to  a  great  church 
that  would  dominate  the 
town  of  Assisi  from  the  Hill 
of  Paradise.  The  story  of 
the  basilica  of  San  Francesco 
is  the  story  of  Elias'  ambi- 
tions writ  in  stone. 

In  order  to  imitate  the 
humiliations  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  on  earth,  St. 
Francis  had  chosen  as  his 
burial  place  the  "Infernal 
Hill,"  at  that  time  lying  out- 
side the  city  limits.  There 
great  criminals  were  put  to  death  and  buried.  After 
his  death  his  sacred  remains  were  taken  to  the  con- 
vent of  San  Damiano,  then  inhabited  by  the  Poor 
Clares.  There  Clare,  her  sister  Agnes,  and  tne 
Sisters  rejoiced  at  the  sight  of  the  miraculous 
stigmata.  The  wound  in  Francis'  side  was  like  a 
beautiful  rose;  the  nails  in  his  hands  and  his  feet 
were  externally  black,  internally  yellow;  they  could 
be  moved  to  and  fro,  but  not  separated  from  the 
flesh.  St.  Clare  wished  to  preserve  one  of  the  nails 
as  a  precious  relic  of  the  Founder,  but  could  not 


THE  1*  SIGN 


detach  if  from  his  hand.  The  body  was  then 
carried  to  St.  George's  Hospital;  this  was  on  October 
5th,  1226.  On  July  16th,  1228,  Pope  Gregory  IX 
canonized  Francis  Bernardone. 

The  day  after  the  canonization,  the  Pope 
went  in  great  pomp  to  the  "Infernal  Hill,"  the  place 
which  Francis  had  himself  chosen  as  his  final  rest- 
ing place,  and  now  renamed  the  "Hill  of  Paradise" 
by  Papal  edict.  Here  Gregory  laid  the  corner  stone 
of  the  great  church  that  Elias 
had  decided  to  build  over  the 
body  of  Francis.  He  had 
resolved  that  while  Francis 
might  have  his  wish  of  lying 
in  the  polluted  ground  of  the 
Infernal  Hill,  he  would  rest 
by  Elias'  order  under  a  mag- 
nificent shrine  set  in  a 
jeweled  church,  and  not  in  a 
malefactors'  potters'  field. 

When  the  crypt  of  San 
Francisco  was  finished,  Elias 
determined  to  translate  the 
body  thither.  A  solemn  (but 
sham)  translation  took  place 
on  May  28th,  1230.  Sham, 
because  the  Master  General, 
fearing  a  physical  protest  of 
the  Primitives,  who  fought 
furiously  against  this  perver- 
sion of  the  Founder's  wishes, 
had  resolved  to  anticipate 
such  a  protest  should  it  occur, 
by  himself  in  secret  burying 
the  body  three  days  before 
the  sham  translation  took 
place.  The  fiery  opposition 
faded  away  for  the  moment; 
only  for  the  moment,  for  a 
few  years  later  it  burst  into 
flame  at  a  General  Council  of  the  Order  in  Rome, 
and  hurled  Elias  from  his  throne  into  schism  and 
ignominy  at  the  court  of  the  excommunicated 
Emperor  Frederick.  But  in  the  meantime  the  body 
of  Francis  had  faded  away  also.  Elias  had  buried 
the  body  deep  in  rock  under  the  crypt,  and  no  one 
knew  the  place  of  the  burial.  It  was  not  till  Decem- 
ber 12th,  1818,  that  it  was  discovered. 


WITHIN   THE   CLOISTER  OF   ST.   CHIARA 
*Chapcl   where   St.    Clare"s   body    was    first    laid 


u 


EAVING  San  Francisco  happy  in  the  posses- 
sion   of    its    Giottesque    beauties,    ripe    with 


colored  walls  and  molten  splendor  of  gold,  one 
wanders  through  narrow  streets  into  a  dim,  cold 
church,  where  no  sunshine  ever  seems  to  penetrate, 
and  where  only  the  chapel  of  the  miraculous  crucifix 
which  spoke  to  Francis,  adds  a  little  color  to  the 
sombreness  of  its  surroundings. 

In  front  of  the  High  Altar  a  flight  of  marble 
stairs  descends  into  a  dark  and  gloomy  crypt.  Here 
Clare  following  even  in  death  the  example  of  her 
spiritual  father,  had  been 
buried;  and  so  deep  in  rock 
likewise  that  her  remains 
were  not  discovered  until 
excavations  were  undertaken 
in  1850.  Five  bishops,  in- 
cluding Cardinal  Pecci,  after- 
wards Pope  Leo  XIII,  were 
present  at  the  opening  of  her 
sepulchre.  The  iron  bands 
which  bound  the  coffin  were 
filed  through.  Clare  was  dis- 
covered clad  in  her  brown 
habit,  as  though  but  buried 
yesterday.  The  wild  thyme, 
which  devoted  hands  had 
scattered  on  her  body,  though 
withered,  was  still  fragrant; 
and  a  few  green  leaves  still 
clung  to  her  veil.  Spontane- 
ously a  procession  was  or- 
ganized in  honor  of  the 
Saint;  and  the  following 
Sunday  amid  pealing  of  the 
bells  of  all  the  Assisian 
churches  high  Mass  was  sung 
with  great  crowds  in  atten- 
dance. Bishops,  priests,  con- 
fraternities of  lay  men  and 
women,  bands  of  children, 
who  scattered  flowers  as  they 
walked,  filed  through  the  narrow  streets  of  the  town 
into  the  church  to  pay  honor  to  the  beloved  Saint. 
Feasants  from  the  countryside,  held  in  check  by 
Austrian  soldiers,  crowded  round  the  body  to  pay 
homage  to  Mother  Clare.  First  to  the  Cathedral, 
then  to  the  great  basilica  of  San  Francesco,  "that 
the  body  of  Clare  might  salute  the  body  of  her 
great  master,"  a  procession  wound  in  and  out  of  the 
torturous  ways  of  the  city,  finally  back  to  Santa 
Chiara,  where  anxious  nuns  awaited  the  return  of 
the  Foundress  of  their  Order.     Clare's  body  rested 


THE  +  SIGN 


awhile  in  the  Chapel  of  San  Giorgio,  until  the  com- 
pletion of  a  shrine  of  precious  marbles  and  ala- 
basters in  the  crypt  of  the  church. 

EEELING  my  way  from  pillar  to  pillar  through 
this  dim  crypt,  I  crept  to  pay  reverence  to  her 
whom  Francis  loved.  I  hesitated  a  moment, 
hearing  what  seemed  to  me  like  the  rustle  of  a  nun's 
dress.  Then  a  curtain  drifted  away  in  front  of  me, 
and  I  was  face  to  face  with 
Clare.  Behind  a  great  pane 
of  glass,  in  a  glass  case, 
lying  on  a  satin  bed  in  her 
brown  habit,  with  the  Book 
of  the  Rule  in  one  hand  and 
in  the  other  holding  a  lily  set 
with  small  diamonds,  lay  she 
who  had  conquered  both  the 
world  and  heaven.  I  knelt 
in  quiet  reverence.  There 
was  complete  silence  save 
for  the  click  of  rosary  beads 
as  they  passed  through  the 
nun's  fingers.  Clare  lay 
quietly  on  her  couch  as 
though  asleep;  her  features 
as  perfect  as  in  life,  save  that 
the  skin  seemed  browned 
with  the  passing  centuries. 
I  rose  reluctantly,  and  as  I 
turned  to  bid  farewell  to  the 
Seraphic  Mother,  the  curtain 
rustled  into  place  and  I  was 
left  in  the  exterior  darkness, 
to  find  my  way  alone  into  the 
upper  church  and  the  light 
of  the  sunshine  of  Umbria. 

Prom  the  piazza  in  front 
of   Santa   Chiara   one   looks 

over  the  broad  valley  and  sees  a  mound  in  the  center 
of  the  plain,  seeming  at  first  sight  but  a  gray  hillock 
of  bare  rock.  Gradually  one  determines  that  this 
hillock  is  in  reality  a  building  with  a  dome,  a  dome 
of  large  size  which  dominates  the  Umbrian  valley 
as  the  dome  of  St.  Peter's,  in  Rome,  dominates  the 
Campagna.  Descending  the  hillside,  and  finding 
one's  way  by  dusty  roads  through  fields  of  grass 
and  grey  groups  of  olive  trees,  one  comes  after  an 
hour's  thirsty  walking  to  the  piazza  of  Santa  Maria 
degli   Angeli    (Our    Lady    of    the    Angels).      This 


special  Papal  rule,  and  the  part  outside  the  west 
front  was  a  Palace  of  Refuge  and  enjoyed  the  right 
of  asylum  for  criminals  who  sought  safety  from 
arrest.  It  was  forbidden,  under  pain  of  excom- 
munication, to  erect  a  building  within  two  hundred 
yards  of  the  Basilica.  The  buildings  with  the  colon- 
nade on  the  Piazza  were  formerly  a  great  guest- 
house for  women  pilgrims  to  the  shrine,  while  male 
pilgrims  were  received  in  the  monastery  itself. 
In  1860  the  Piedmontese 
government  confiscated  this 
Church  land;  so  the  former 
hostelry  for  ladies  no  longer 
shelters  pilgrims;  it  is  the 
home  of  the  local  tax  col- 
lector and  the  village  doctor. 


© 


HE  Portiuncula,  which 
Santa  Maria  degli 
Angeli  shelters  under 
her  dome,  was  the  great 
shrine  of  the  Franciscans 
after  the  death  of  Francis  in 
1228  ;but  it  was  not  till  1569 
that  the  great  basilica  was 
begun.  The  basilica  owes 
its  origin  to  the  Great 
Dominican,  Pope  Pius  V,  in- 
spired with  a  great  love  for 
Our  Lady  of  the  Angels  and 
the  Order  of  Friars  Minor. 

One    pushes    aside    the 
mattress  (what  else  can  one 
;all  it  ? )  that  closes  all  church 
doors       in       Italy.         One's 
thoughts     are     not     for     the 
splendor  of  tne  great  church, 
but   for   tnat   small   building 
in   the   center   of   the   nave, 
under  the  cupola  which  rises  above  it  like  a  royal 
robe.     The  little  church  set  within  another  church, 
as  a  jewel  within  a  casket,  is  the  Mother  Church  of 
the  Order.     This  gem  of  holy  poverty  was  built  in 
the  midst  of  a  forest  in  the  time  of  Pope  Liberius 
(352-357)  by  four  hermits  from  the  Holy  Land,  who 
placed  therein  a  relic  from  the  Tomb  of  the  Blessed 
Virgin;  for  which  reason  the  little  church  was  first 
called    "Our    Lady   of    Josaphat."      The    name    in 
common  use,  however,  was  and  is  that  of  "St.  Mary 
of  Portiuncula,"  or  Utile  portion;  a  name  dear  to 
square  in  front  of  the  great  church  used  to  be  under      St.  Francis  who  loved  to  think  of  the  spot  as  the 


THE  1*  SIGN 


little  portion  which  God  had  from  all  eternity  as- 
signed to  him. 

In  the  6th.  century  the  sanctuary  passed  to  St. 
Benedict,  who  restored  it.  It  was  here,  toward  the 
end  of  the  12th.  century,  that  the  noble  lady  Pica 
became  the  mother  of  Francis;  on  the  night  when 
angels  sang  in  the  Portiuncula,  and  Francis  was  born 
in  a  stable.  Francis,  after  he  had  restored  San 
Damiano  (of  which  I  have  already  spoken)  repaired 
the  ruins  of  this  shrine,  and  here  received  the  grace 
of  his  vocation.  Dom  Pietro,  Abbot  of  the  Bene- 
dictines of  Monte  Subasio,  gave  the  shrine  to  Francis 
and  his  followers.  And  there  is  a  pretty  story  in  the 
Franciscan  legend  which  tells  how  Francis  in  grati- 
tude for  his  noble  gift,  sent  each  year  to  the  Bene- 
dictines a  basket  of  fish  (if  any  fish  were  caught 
that  year  in  the  river!)  and  they  in  turn  sent  him  a 
bottle  of  olive  oil  as  a  sign  of  goodwill  and  friend- 
ship. 

The  Portiuncula  measures  but  2iy2  feet  in  length 
by  about  13  feet,  3  inches,  in  width.  Tis  a  wee 
holy  place. 

Here  also  Francis  died,  and  the  birds,  as  St. 
Bonaventura  relates,  "left  their  nests  after  sunset 
at  the  death  of  the  Saint  and  perched  on  the  roof 
of  the  little  house  to  say  a  last  farewell  to  their 
friend." 

The  Portiuncula  is  covered  with  some  ancient 
and  many  modern  frescoes  of  the  German  romantic 
school.  These  are  not  impressive.  But  inside  the 
chapel  over  the  altar,  is  an  admirable  statue  of  St. 
Francis  by  Luca  della  Robbia  from  a  cast  taken 
after  the  Saint's  death.  St.  Francis'  cord  with  its 
three  knots,  on  which  can  be  seen  drops  of  blood 
from  his  stigmata,  is  reverently  kept  in  a  small 
cupboard  which  originally  contained  the  Saint's 
medicines.  On  the  outer  wall  of  the  cell  is  the  lid 
of  Francis'  coffin.  The  great  pillar  which  stands  in 
front  marks  the  spot  where  Francis  met  Clare  and 
gave  her  permission  to  leave  San  Damiano  for  a 
short  time  that  she  might  visit  the  Portiuncula,  where 
she  said  farewell  to  the  world. 

XN  a  wood  close  to  this  holy  spot,  Francis 
built  a  hut,  in  which  he  generally  lived.  One 
cold  winter  night,  being  tempted  by  the  devil 
to  limit  his  austerities,  the  Saint  threw  himself  naked 
among  the  thorns  of  nearby  briars.  Instantly  these 
changed  into  thornless  rose  bushes,  and  their  leaves 
have  since  been  marked  with  spots  of  blood,  which 
can  be  seen  to  this  day,  dull  red  spots  on  verdant 


green.  These  roses  bloom  only  in  the  month  of 
May,  but  the  leaves  are  preserved  by  the  guardians 
of  the  shrine,  and  each  pilgrim  thither  can  receive 
a  few  to  carry  home  as  a  memento  of  his  pilgrim- 
age. The  rose  garden,  where  once  nothing  grew  but 
thorns  and  briars,  can  still  be  seen  in  a  little  cloister 
of  the  monastery.  Opposite  the  thornless  rose- 
bushes the  Friars  have  planted  a  small  figtree,  in 
memory  of  one  now  dead  on  which  Brother  Grass- 
hopper came  to  sing  to  Francis. 

In  the  Chapel  of  the  Roses  near  at  hand,  Francis 
lived  in  a  hut  at  the  time  of  the  famous  "Chapter 
of  the  Mats,"  when  five  thousand  religious  gathered 
about  his  little  house  in  tents.  Here  it  was  that 
Francis  met  Dominic  and  Antony  of  Padua.  The 
brethren  told  me  that  here  at  times  a  delicious 
perfume  could  be  traced.  But,  I  must  confess, 
though  I  sniffed  violently,  I  could  smell  nothing 
but  onions  cooking  in  a  nearby  kitchen. 

Three  miles  from  the  town  of  Assisi,  on  Monte 
Subasio,  is  the  Carceri,  one  of  those  hermitages 
round  which  the  early  Francisans  gathered  before 
a  fixed  rule  penned  them  in  monasteries.  This 
hermitage  Francis  kept  as  something  outside  his 
daily  life.  Here  he  held  isolated  communion  with 
his  Maker.  Here  he  retired  to  rest  and  to  gather 
strength  for  his  arduous  work  among  the  children 
of  men. 

As  in  the  case  of  the  Portiuncula,  so  likewise 
was  the  Carceri  given  to  Francis  by  the  Benedic- 
tines. The  principle  monastery  of  the  Benedictines 
in  the  11th.  century  stood  on  the  top  of  Monte 
Subasio.  The  Mount  was  Benedictine  ground. 
Slowly  through  the  centuries  the  Monks  have  ebbed 
away,  and  the  Friars  have  usurped  their  dominion. 
For  those  of  the  Benedictine  Order  who  wearied  of 
the  full  monastic  life,  below  their  monastery,  and 
a  little  to  the  west  thereof,  lay  the  Carceri,  where 
in  rude  caverns  these  Benedictine  cavemen  sought 
solitude  with  God.  The  great  walls  and  columns 
of  what  Was  once  the  most  celebrated  monastery  in 
Umbria  have  crumbled  into  wreckage,  and  until  a 
few  years  ago,  when  some  attempts  at  restoration 
and  preservation  were  made,  the  ruins  were  open  to 
the  birds  of  the  air  and  the  wild  creatures  of  the 
mountain. 

The  hermitage  of  the  Carceri  was  but  huge 
caverns  cut  out  of  the  solid  rock,  with  huts  scattered 
throughout  a  deep  mountain  gorge.  The  caverns  can 
still  be  seen,  though  ivy  has  grown  thick  across  the 
entrances.     None  go  there  now  to  pray. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


The  road  from  Assisi  to  the  Carceri  passes  for 
the  first  mile  through  rich  corn  fields  and  groves 
of  olive  trees.  Soon  it  changes  to  a  mere  mountain 
track.  Here  the  colors  of  the  Judas  tree,  here  a  few 
flowers  alone  break  the  arid  monotony  of  the  sun- 
burnt rocks.  Looking  back  along  the  road  that 
leads  to  Assisi,  one  sees  below  miniature  forests  of 
oak  and  olive.  Where  we  now  are,  on  the  crest  of 
the  mountain,  is  a  new  type  of  Franciscan  land.  The 
sunlight  wavers  over  the  city  below,  picking  out  in 
rose-colored  splendor  the  town's  old  walls,  the 
basilicas  and  churches,  the  ancient  castle  set  in. 
ruined  pride. 

jr   M"  HALF  mile  more,  and  one  enters  a  narrow 

3 l_  gorge.    Nothing  in  sight  but  an  ilex  tree  and 

an  arched  doorway  leading  into  a  courtyard. 
A  few  steps  further  on  and  one  comes  to  a  cluster 
of  cells  hung  from  the  bare  rocks,  as  though  threat- 
ening to  topple  into  the  ravine.  Through  a  doorway 
a  friar  enters  the  scene..  Noting  us  as  strangers, 
he  beckons  and  as  we  join  him,  plunges  at  once 
into  tales  of  every  cell,  and  shrine,  and  tree  and 
rock.  In  this  cave  lived  Brother  This,  and  in  that 
cave  Brother  That;  while  this  cavern  was  once 
occupied  by  the  great  Bishop  of  So-and-so-opolis  in 
partibus  infidelium..  These  caves  are  the  original 
Franciscan  convents :  one  man  to  each  monastery. 
Here  lived  the  early  poverty-loved  brethren  of  the 
Order,  in  rooms  scooped  out  of  rock  and  with  a 
piece  of  wood  for  their  pillows.    Nearby  is  a  small 


oratory,  and  here  is  preserved  the  crucifix  which  the 
Saint  always  used.  The  doors  are  so  small  that  one 
must  stoop  to  enter. 

The  little  monastery  where  the  twentieth  century 
Franciscans  live  is  but  a  grotto;  the  rooms  thereof 
have  for  walls  the  naked  rock,  full  of  holes  and 
untouched  by  chisel.  The  rude  ladder  which  leads 
to  the  friars'  dormitory  is  perilous  to  life  in  its 
extreme  shakiness.  It  would  be  well  to  commend 
one's  soul  earnestly  to  God  before  making  the 
ascent.  The  refectory  is  but  an  excavation  made  in 
the  rock  with  a  table  by  one  solid  wall.  Here  six 
religious  could  eat  comfortably;  here  twelve  eat 
uncomfortably.  The  common  room  is  blacked  with 
the  smoke  that  pours  forth  from  the  one  fireplace 
in  the  monastery.  If  you  spend  a  night  herein, 
gentle  reader,  you  will  derive  much  spiritual  conso- 
lation; but  you  will  find  no  temporal  comforts. 

In  a  small  wooden  cupboard  in  the  chapel, 
according  to  an  inventory  made  some  two  hundred 
years  ago,  were  preserved  many  precious  relics. 
The  wooden  pillow  of  St.  Francis  and  a  piece  of  the 
Golden  Gate  by  which  Our  Lord  entered  Jerusalem 
are  still  there.  But  the  hair  of  Our  Lady,  and  some 
of  the  earth  out  of  which  God  created  Adam  are 
no  longer  to  be  found / 

Reader:  "  I  am  getting  very  bored  with  this 
article.     Is  the  end  near  at  hand?" 

Author:   "It  is  finished!" 


A   Smile 

Nicholas  Ward,  C.  P. 


A  little  thing,  a  sunny1  smile, 

A  loving  word  at  morn; 
And  all  day  long  the  sun  shone  bright, 

And  cares  of  life  were  made  more  ligKt 
And  the  sweetest  hopes  vJere  born. 


My   Master's   House 

A  WKolesome  Talk  to  Sign  Readers 
David  S.  Lawlor 


^w^HEN  the  average  observant  man  has  passed 
|l|  the  half  hundreth  milestone  in  life,  he  has 
V^X  learned  many  things  which  would  interest, 
instruct  and  be  of  value  to  those  who  have 
not  travelled  so  far  along  life's  highway.  How  true 
is  Joyce  Kilmer's  simple  poem: 

"It's  said  that  Life  is  a  highway 
And  its  milestones  are  the  years 
With  here  and  there  a  toll-gate 
Where  we  pay  our  way  with  tears. 

It's  a  long  road  and  a  hard  road 
That  stretches  broad  and  far 
But  at  the  end  lies  a  golden  town 
Where  golden  houses  are." 

In  this  great 
highway  we  meet 
many  people  as  we 
journey  on.  Sage 
and  singer,  saint 
and  sinner,  poet 
and  peasant,  the 
strong  and  the 
weak,  the  proud 
and  the  humble, 
all  hastening  on 
to  "a  golden  town 
where  golden 
houses  are."  I 
have  journeyed  on 
with  many  of  these  in  many  places  in  this  great 
country  of  ours,  and  from  many  of  them  I  have 
learned  of  things  that  were  a  help  to  me.  Some  of 
these  I  will  speak  of  in  this  article. 

I,  like  many  others  who  have  traveled  far,  have 
seen  wonderful  things,  but  you  have  only  to  look 
about  you  to  see  the  same  wonderful  things, — the 
sky,  the  sea,  the  hill,  the  valley,  the  grass,  the  trees, 
the  birds  and  the  flowers.  "Nature,"  says  the  weak- 
ling. "God!",  cries  out  the  strong  man  who  has 
been  given  the  light  to  see  Who  is  behind  all  these 
truly  wonderful  things.  Niagara,  Grand  Canyon, 
the  Rocky  Mountains  and  the  myriad  of  marvelous 
things  He  put  here  for  the  pleasure  of  man.  The 
glory  of  His  handmaiden,  Nature,   is   everywhere, 


and  it  seems  to  me  that  when  we  have  passed  many 
of  the  milestones  there  comes  to  us  a  broader  under- 
standing so  that  we  see  Him  everywhere  and  a 
prayer  of  gratitude  often  swells  from  the  heart  to 
the  lips. 


n 


OW  often  when  plucking  a  flower  have  I 
thought  of  the  beautiful  tribute  of  that  gifted 
Irishman,  Canon  Sheehan: 


rHIS  is  not  a  sermon.  It  is  a  heart-to-heart  talk 
of  the  Author  with  our  readers.  The  sage 
counsel  here  given  has  been  learned  in  the 
school  of  long  and  varied  experience.  Mr.  Lawlor 
is  a  man  of  the  world  in  the  best  acceptation  of  the 
term.  He  is  an  expert  in  business  promotion  and 
commercial  publicity.  For  a  number  of  years  he 
was  prominently  associated  with  the  Editorial  and 
Business  Departments  of  several  of  the  leading 
newspapers  in  the  Eastern  States.  As  a  lecturer  on 
religious  and  commercial  subjects  he  is  in  much 
demand.  Mr.  Lawlor  is  President  of  the  Laymen's 
Retreat  Guild,  Brighton,  Mass. — Editors. 


"Who  made  you,  little  one,  who  made 
you  are  so  lovely  and  so  frail?  In  what 
garden  of  Eden  did  He  behold  your  proto- 
types? Or  was  it  from  the  secret  of  His 
Own  surpassing  beauty  He  divined  your 
loveliness  and  made  you  another  and  a 
meeker  mani- 
festation of 
that  undying 
principle  that 
underlies  any 
operation  of 
H  i  s  hand- 
maid, Nature, 
— the  princi- 
ple that  all 
things  round 
to  beauty, 
and  that,  in 
the  spiral  of 
a  vast  nebula 
which  covers 
half  the 
heavens,  and 
in  the  curve  of  a  little  leaf  that  shelters  a 
tiny  insect,  order,  and  beauty,  and  propor- 
tion, and  harmony  subsist — a  reflex  of  the 
Mind  of  The  Eternal." 

This  is  to  be  a  heart  to  heart  talk  with  you  the 
readers  of  The  Sign  on  certain  things  in  life  that 
are  worth  while. 

If  I  can  help  you  to  be  abler  and  stronger  men 
and  women;  if  I  can  show  you  how  to  overcome 
many  of  the  things  that  are  doing  you  harm  and 
show  you  how  to  strengthen  the  many  things  that 
will  do  you  good;  if  I  can  point  out  and  warn  you 
against  the  road  that  will  lead  to  trouble  and  pain; 
and  set  you  on  the  road  that  will  lead  you  to  health 
and   happiness    and   peace   of    mind   then    I   have 


THE  +  SIGN 


delivered  to  you  some  of  the  wisdom  I  have  gathered 
from  the  many  I  have  met  on  life's  highway. 

I  believe  that  it  will  be  of  help  to  many  of  you. 
I  do  not  say  all  because  I  have  in  mind  the  gospel 
that  tells  of  the  sower  that  went  out  to  sow  his  seed : 

"And  as  he  sowed,  some  fell  by  the 
wayside,  and  it  was  trodden  down  and  the 
birds  of  the  air  ate  it  up.  And  some  fell 
on  the  rock,  and  as  soon  as  it  had  sprung 
up  it  withered  away  because  it  had  no 
moisture.  And  some  fell  among  thorns, 
and  the  thorns,  growing  up  with  it,  choked 
it.  And  some  fell  on  the  ground,  and 
sprang  up  and  yielded  fruit  one  hundred 
fold." 

^tt^ONDERFUL  are  the  works  of  man.  He  has 
\I/  circumnavigated  the  globe;  traced  great 
rivers  to  their  sources;  climbed  the  highest 
mountains;  discovered  the  two  great  poles;  meas- 
ured the  distance  to  the  stars  and  weighed  the  sun, 
but  no  man  has  yet  lived  who  has  been  able  to 
circumnavigate  man.  Today  man  is  as  much  a 
mystery  as  he  was  in  the  beginning,  and  he  is  as 
little  understood.  It  would  seem  as  though  the  work 
of  the  Infinite  Mind  was  beyond  the  understanding 
of  the  finite  mind. 

In'  my  prayer  book  is  a  little  prayer  at  Com- 
munion, "Lord  prepare  my  mansion  to  receive  Thee." 

Well  and  good!  Where  do  you  live?  What 
kind  of  a  house  do  you  live  in  and  where  is  it  situat- 
ed? How  is  your  home  furnished,  and  what  kind  of 
a  man  is  the  master  of  the  house  you  live  in?  Is 
your  home  on  an  alley,  or  on  an  avenue?  Is  it  a 
cottage,  neat  and  attractive  on  a  country  road,  or 
is  it  some  abode  going  to  wrack  and  ruin  in  some 
evil  neighborhood? 

I  hope  it  is  a  mansion  on  a  broad  avenue,  the 
house  surrounded  by  noble  specimens  of  the  forest; 
flowers  and  plants  here  and  there  that  show  the 
owner's  love  for  the  beautiful. 

In  such  a  house  I  expect  to  find  the  rooms 
large  and  high  studded,  the  furnishings  rich  and  in 
good  taste,  beautiful  paintings  on  the  wall,  a  library 
well  stocked  with  the  choicest  literature  of  the  ages. 

I  expect  to  find  an  atmosphere  of  rest,  of  com- 
fort and  of  peace;  and,  when  the  master  comes,  to 
find  a  man  who  has  the  air  of  a  master,  with  mind 
and  bearing  denoting  to  the  manner  born.  There  is 
will  on  the  throne  directing  events,  and  it  is  will 
correlated  to  pure  thoughts  and  high  ideals. 


Any  of  you  may  have  such  a  home  as  I  have 
described.  The  body  is  the  home;  the  broad 
avenue  is  the  atmosphere  the  thoughts  occupy;  the 
magnificent  trees  are  the  good  resolutions  that  have 
been  made  and  kept;  the  flowers  are  the  beautiful 
deeds  done  in  life;  the  dwelling  place  with  its  great 
rooms  is  the  broadness  of  vision;  the  oil  paintings 
are  the  beautiful  thoughts  that  come  with  right 
living,  and  the  well  stocked  library  is  the  mind  that 
has  been  refreshed  by  contact  with  the  great  minds 
of  the  centuries.  Surely  such  a  home  is  desirable, 
and  is  worth  any  effort  that  it  may  cost. 

> — r'OUR  body  is  the  mansion  in  which  reside  the 
Nȣ/  heart,  the  mind  and  the  soul.  You  have  been 
taught  from  infancy  the  care  of  this  body. 
It  is  well  worth  your  care.  Nature  demands  it  be 
cared  for,  and  punishes  severely  any  injury  to  it. 
Respect  your  bodies,  for  usually  with  a  clean  body 
goes  a  clean  mind.  I  do  not  mean  the  soil  that 
comes  from  honest  toil,  but  the  stain  that  comes 
from  excesses  and  debaucheries  that  soil  not  only 
the  body,  but  which  leaves  their  impress  on  the 
mind  and  the  soul. 

I  might  liken  the  body  to  a  ship;  the  mind  to 
the  rudder  of  the  ship  that  gives  it  direction;  the 
will  to  the  captain,  who  directs  the  course;  the  consci- 
ence, to  the  charts  which  show  the  channels  through 
which  the  ship  may  sail  in  safety,  and  mark  the 
rocks  and  the  shoals  upon  which  there  is  danger  of 
wreck  and  destruction.  Let  us  very  briefly  examine 
the  growth  of  this  mentality  which  gives  us  cha- 
racter. 

"Our  body  began  as  a  speck  of  vitalized  proto- 
plasm that  developed  in  dark  and  in  secret,"  says 
Dr.  Openheim.  "It  came  into  the  world  with  a  cry 
of  pain,  and  then  began  the  struggle  of  life;  and 
with  the  growth  of  the  body  came  the  growth  of  the 
mind,  less  easily  seen,  but  still  developing  from  time 
to  time. 

"This  development  of  the  body  continues  for  a 
certain  length  of  time  until  maturity  arrives,  the 
time  for  active  work.  Then  growth  ceases,  and  an 
even  level  of  strength  is  kept  up  until  middle  life 
when  the  physical  resources  begin  to  decline. 
Slowly  weakness  creeps  on,  and  each  year  man  finds 
himself  less  able  to  withstand  the  wear  and  tear. 
Thus  old  age  arrives,  and  with  a  cry  of  pain  and  a 
sigh  of  resignation  we  go  to  our  reward. 

"The  mind  during  all  this  time  does  not  keep  up 
an  even  space  in  its  progression;   it  differs  from  the 


11 


THE  + 

body  in  being  more  influenced  by  environment  than 
by  heredity.  The  brain  starts  out  as  a  fluid  whose 
final  crystalized  form  is  the  forces  that  have  been 
working  upon  it,  good  and  bad,  wise  and  unwise. 
These  forces  are  influencing  it  each  day,  each  hour. 
There  is  the  same  struggle  between  influences  as 
there  is  between  animals  in  the  primeval  lands  or 
trees  in  the  forests.  Those  that  are  naturally  strong 
and  have  most  favorable  environments  grow  briskly, 
and  those  that  are  less  favorably  placed  die  out. 
We  are  totally  unconscious  of  being  a  battlefield 
where  one  sort  of  victory 
or  another  must  be  de- 
cided." 


QS  those  things 
which  so  closely 
influence  our  lives 
are  vital  to  us,  let  us 
pause  and  examine  them. 
Heredity  is  not  of  our 
choice  Our  fathers  and 
mothers  are  thrust  upon 
us,  as  we  have  no  choice 
in  the  selection.  Proba- 
bly we  could  not  make 
as  good  a  choice  as 
Nature  did  for  us.  This, 
strange  to  say,  has  but 
very  little  influence  on 
our  lives;  at  least,  so 
the  best  authorities  de- 
clare. The  great  moulder 
of  our  character  is  envi- 
ronment, and  the  greatest 
of  environments  is  the 
home  circle,  the  outlook  of  life  that  is  given  to  us 
by  our  fathers  and  mothers,  and  our  home  sur- 
roundings. 

Environment  is  more  than  the  family  circle, 
more  than  the  neighborhood  in  which  we  live.  En- 
vironment means  association;  the  chums  we  associ- 
ate with;  the  books  we  read,  the  schools  we  attend; 
the  pictures  we  see,  and  the  thousand  things  that 
come  into  our  daily  life.  It  is  said  that  the  mind 
takes  fifty  thousand  impressions  a  day.  See  to  it, 
we  should,  that  these  pictures  are  clean,  inspiring 
and  elevating,  if  we  would  have  a  mind  that  would 
guide  us  right,  a  mind  that  will  be  a  source  of  joy 
and  pleasure  to  us,  and  to  all  whom  we  come  in  con- 
tact with,   a   mind   that   will   give   a   fragrance   to 


To  the  Face  of  Christ 


Illuminet  vultum  suum  super  nos — 

— terra  dedit  fructum  suum.      Ps.  LXVI 

Rise  upon  the  wheat-fields  of  my  soul, 
Sun  tkat  bearest  healing  in  Thy*  wings. 

Ev'ery'  ear,  made  full  and  fair  and  wkole, 

Shall  adore  Thee  vJnen  tke  west  wind  sings 

And  Thine  altars  be  the  single  goal 
For  the  fine  flour  of  my"  harvestings. 


SIGN 

our  whole  being.     Such  a  mind  is  a  jewel  beyond 
price. 

How  is  such  a  mind  to  be  developed?  By  disci- 
pline, by  drill,  mental  drill  much  like  bodily  drill. 
You  witnessed  a  few  years  ago  many  young  men 
from  your  neighborhood  taken  in  the  draft,  round- 
shouldered,  narrow-chested  boys.  They  were  sent  to 
the  cantonments;  and  you  have  seen  them  some 
months  afterwards,  their  carriage  erect,  their  chests 
broad  and  their  shoulders  square.  Physically  they 
were  better  men.  What  made  this  change?  Drill, 
drill,  everlasting  drill. 

The  mind  may  be 
drilled  much  the  same 
way,  but  there  must  be 
the  will  to  do  it,  and  that 
will  must  come  from 
within.  It  cannot  come 
from  without.  An  intern- 
al treatment  or  influence 
must  stir  it  into  life.  We 
must  keep  it  awakened 
by  constant  exercise,  and 
such  exercise  will  win 
health  and  vigor  for  our 
will.  When  we  have 
done  this,  we  will  rec- 
ognize within  us  a  new 
force  capable  of  achiev- 
ing much.  Usually  that 
means   that   we   have   a 


Sister  Mary  Benvenuta,  O.  P. 


new  possession  in  our 
mind  from  which  to  work 
and  develope  aright  and 
draw  forth  untold  riches. 


QVERY  good,  healthy  concern  from  time  to  time 
takes  stock,  and  every  good  healthy  man 
should  take  stock  of  himself  every  so  often  to 
find  out  his  weaknesses  and  correct  them  before  they 
have  become  a  habit;  to  see  what  his  virtues  are  that 
he  may  encourage  them  to  even  a  greater  growth. 
The  value  of  these  introspections  is  worth  while.  A 
good  physician  will  never  prescribe  unless  he  knows 
what  is  the  ailment.  There  is  first  the  diagnosis 
and  then  the  treatment.  Let  us  find  out  in  what  we 
are  deficient;  then  bring  up  our  forces  and  supply 
the  deficiency. 

Do  you  swear?  Stop  it.  Once  a  salesmanager 
told  me  that  he  would  give  anything  to  give  up 
the  evil.     For  twenty  years  he  had  been  swearing 


T 


HE  t  SIGN 


many  times  a  day.  I  asked  him  why  he  did  not  stop 
it,  and  he  said  that  he  could  not.  I  told  him  that 
he  would  cure  himself  if  only  he  would  follow  my 
advice;  first  make  the  resolution  to  stop  swearing; 
second  write  a  memo  each  day  as  follows:  "I  prom- 
ise that  I  will  not  swear  today,  and  if  by  chance  I 
do  swear,  I  will  immediately  write  out  this  same 
promise."  He  did  so.  He  told  me  that  the  method 
was  wonderful,  as  the  second  day  he  was  cured. 

Have  you  a  bad  temper?  Then  cure  it.  Pro- 
fessor James  says  that  the  way  to  cure  a  bad  temper 
is  to  deny  it  expression,  and  then  it  dies  a  natural 
death. 

A  strong  passion  may  be  subdued  by  refusing 
it  freedom  of  action.  Habits  are  made  and  grow 
stronger  by  repeated  acts;  they  become  impotent,  or 
are  made  weaker  by  constant  denial.  Men  who  have 
gone  deeply  into  the  science  of  the  mind  say  that 
the  set  teeth  and  the  clinched  hands  are  not  symp- 
toms but  the  cause  of  anger.  When  you  are  tempted 
to  be  angry,  instead  of  letting  the  corners  of  the 
mouth  droop,  just  smile,  and  the  sunshine  from  that 
smile  will  dissolve  the  angry  feeling  just  as  ice  dis- 
solves from  the  warmth  of  the  sun. 

As  to  the  habit  of  drink,  I  will  quote  from  Dr. 
E.  Boyd  Barrett:  "Suffice  it  to  say  that  it  poisons 
the  blood,  and  that  the  blood  is  no  longer  able  to 
nourish  the  nerve  tissues.  As  a  consequence  the 
healthiness  and  capacity  for  work  of  the  inebriate 
diminish.  Just  as  vigorous  health,  full  pure-blood- 
ed fitness,  is  the  optional  condition  for  making  voli- 
tional effort,  so  the  nervous  debility  consequent  on 
intoxication  is  the  worst  possible  condition  for  such 
effort  making.  He  may  think  and  his  friends  may 
think  that  he  could,  if  he  tried,  give  up  drink,  but 
when  things  have  gone  so  far  it  is  all  but  impossible. 
Only  extraordinary  circumstances  and  the  help  of 
God's  grace  can  then  save  him. 

"It  is  in  presence  of  such  considerations  that 
Professor  James  writes  as  follows:  'The  hell  to 
be  endured  hereafter,  of  which  theology  tells,  is  no 
worse  than  the  hell  we  make  for  ourselves  in  this 
world  by  habitually  fashioning  our  characters  in  the 
wrong  way.  Could  the  young  but  realize  how  soon 
they  will  become  mere  walking  bundles  of  habits, 
they  would  give  more  heed  to  their  conduct  while  it 
is  in  the  plastic  state.  We  are  spinning  our  own 
fates,  good  or  evil,  and  never  to  be  undone.'  " 


XKNEW  a  man  once  who  had  gone  into  the 
gutter  through  drink.  He  lost  his  job,  his 
friends  and  his  money  .  He  came  back,  and 
he  has  stayed  back  all  this  time — and  that  was  more 
than  twenty-five  years  ago. 

"How  did  you  do  it,  Ned?"  I  asked.  "I  re- 
solved to  cut  it  out;  then  made  a  vow  that  I  would 
not  only  cut  it  out,  but  would  cut  out  every  place 
where  it  was  sold,  and  cut  out  of  my  life  every  man 
who  drinks  liquor."    That  was  his  answer. 

This  man,  by  the  grace  of  God,  used  the  same 
method  as  is  advised  by  the  Church  after  the 
accumulated  wisdom  of  nearly  2,000  years — shun 
the  occassion,  shun  the  place  and  shun  the  compan- 
ionship. 

The  sick  wills  have  been  divided  into  eight 
classes,  all  amenable  to  treatment.  There  are  the 
hesitating,  the  impulsive,  the  inactive,  the  "I  can't," 
the  over-active  and  the  emotional  will,  and  the  over- 
practical  and  the  indefinite  will. 

If  you  are  impatient  and  hot  headed,  and  go  off 
at  half-cock,  try  Dr.  Barrett's  treatment  for  such  a 
case.  Each  action  ought  to  be  done  once  a  day 
for  ten  days  and  occupy  ten  minutes  in  the  doing; 
and,  at  the  end  of  each  exercise,  one  is  to  write  each 
day  his  introspection — 

1.  To  replace  in  a  box  very  slowly 
and  deliberately  one  hundred  matches. 

2.  To  write  out  very  slowly  and  care- 
fully the  words,  "I  will  train  my  will." 

3.  To  turn  over  very  slowly  and  de- 
liberately all  the  leaves  in  a  book,  about 
200  pages. 

4.  To  watch  the  movements  of  the 
second  hand  of  the  clock  or  watch,  and 
pronounce  some  word  slowly  at  the  com- 
pletion of  each  minute. 

There  are  many  other  exercises,  each  of  them 
drilling  the  will  much  as  the  drill  sergeant  makes 
over  the  bodies  of  our  boys  in  army  cantonments. 

The  great  object  of  self-discipline  is,  in  reality, 
to  brace  the  human  will  for  the  strengthening  of 
the  moral  life. 

The  education  of  the  will  must  not  be  left  to 
fate,  nor  can  it  be  left  to  others.  It  must  be  carried 
out  by  ourselves.  It  must  be  carried  out  in  accord- 
ance with  the  knowledge  we  can  ourselves  acquire 
of   our   individual   self.     Study,   introspection,   and 


THE  +  SIGN 


self-discipline  must  then  go  hand  in  hand.  Effort 
and  patience  are  the  price  to  be  paid.  There  is  no 
mystery,  there  is  no  short  cut;  the  goal  to  each  is 
self-mastery,  personal  power  and  force  of  character. 
The  way  is  long,  the  way  is  hard,  but  the  goal  is 
worth  the  winning. 

EIVE   rules   are   given   by   Dr.   Barrett,  which 
we  ought  all  make  part  of  our  lives : — 

1.  We  must  make  our  nervous  system 
our  ally  instead  of  our  enemy. 

2.  In  the  acquisition  of  a  new  habit 
or  the  leaving  off  of  an  old  one,  we  must 
take  care  to  launch  ourselves  with  as  strong 
and  decided  initiative  as  possible. 

3.  Never  suffer  an  exception  to  occur 
until  the  new  habit  is  securely  rooted  in 
life. 

4.  Seize  the  very  first  possible  oppor- 
tunity to  act  on  every  resolution  you  make 
and  on  every  emotional  prompting  you 
may  experience  in  the  direction  of  the 
habits  you  aspire  to  gain. 

5.  Keep  the  faculties  of  effort  alive 
in  you  by  little  gratuitous  exercises  every 
day. 

Here  then  is  given  you  a  plan  to  build,  decorate 
and  furnish  your  Master's  house.  You  can  build  it 
on  any  scale  and  make  it  as  beautiful  as  your  heart 
desires. 


In  it  you  can  have  many  of  the  treasures  of  the 
world  that  will  always  be  a  source  of  joy  to  you. 
You  are  the  master  of  your  own  fate.  You  can 
build  as  you  desire,  but  you  must  pay  the  price  in 
work.  You  cannot  pay  for  it  with  a  smile  or  by 
check. 

Work,  work,  work!  It  was  decreed  that  we 
must  win  by  the  sweat  of  our  brow,  but  oh,  the  joy 
that  comes  from  honest,  well  directed  effort!  Nature 
royally  treats  her  children  who  rigidly  observe  her 
laws.  To  them  she  gives  health,  strength  and  power. 
Our  place  has  been  called  "the  garden  of  life,"  and 
it  has  been  said  by  an  unknown  poet: — 

"Beautiful  thoughts  make  beautiful  lives, 

For  every  word  and  deed 
Lies  in  the  thought  that  prompts  it 

As  the  flower  lies  in  the  seed. 

Back  of  each  action  lay  the  thought 

We  nourished  until  it  grew 
Into  a  work,  or  into  a  deed, 

That  marked  our  life  work  through. 

Gracious  words  and  kindly  ways, 

Deeds  that  are  high  and  true; 
Slanderous  words  and  hasty  words 

And  deeds  we  bitterly  rue. 
The  garden  of  life,  it  beareth  well; 

It  will  repay  our  care, 
But  the  blossom  must  always  and  ever  be 

Like  the  seed  we're  planting  there." 


Tke  Blue  La\\>s 


^^s^HE  legislation  which  certain  zealots  are  at- 
l)  tempting  to  foist  upon  the  community  affect- 
ing really  harmless  diversions  and  indul- 
gences had  for  precedent  the  Blue  Laws  of  Con- 
necticut. Even  as  now  these  early  legislators  made 
religion  odious  by  claiming  its  sanction  for  their 
astounding  prohibitions.  Judge  of  the  wierdness 
of  their  legislation  from  what  is  here  quoted. 

No  one  shall  be  a  freeman  or  have  a  vote  unless  he 
is  converted  and  a  member  of  one  of  the  churches 
allowed  in  this  dominion. 

No  food  or  lodging  shall  be  offered  to  a  heretic. 

No  one  shall  travel,  cook  victuals,  make  beds,  sweep 
houses,  cut  hair  or  shave  on  the  Sabbath  day. 

No  one  shall  cross  a  river  on  the  Sabbath  but 
authorized  clergymen. 

No  one  shall  kiss  his  or  her  children  on  the  Sabbath 
or  feasting  days. 


Whoever  wears  clothes  trimmed  with  gold,  silver  or 
bone  or  lace  above  one  shilling  per  yard  shall  be  presented 
to  the  grand  jurors  and  the  selection  shall  tax  the  estate 
£300. 

Whoever  brings  cards  and  dice  into  the  dominion 
shall  pay  a  fine  of  £15. 

No  one  shall  eat  mince  pies,  dance,  play  cards  or  play 
any  instrument  of  music  except  the  drum,  trumpet  or 
jewsharp. 

No  Gospel  minister  shall  join  people  in  marriage. 
The  magistrate  may  join  them,  as  he  may  do  it  with  less 
scandal  to  Christ's  church. 

When  parents  refuse  their  children  convenient 
marriages,  the  magistrate  shall  determine  the  point. 

A  man  who  strikes  his  wife  shall  be  fined  £10. 

A  woman  who  strikes  her  husband  shall  be  punished 
as   the   law   directs. 

No  man  shall  court  a  maid  in  person  or  by  letter 
without  the  consent  of  her  parents;  £5  penalty  for  the 
first  offence,  £10  for  the  second  and  for  the  third  im- 
prisonment during  the  pleasure  of  the  Court. 


Saints   and   Sinners 


Luis   Coloma,   S.  J. 


Copyrighted  1921,  by  The  Sign 


Chapter   4 


Vw^HEN  Luis  reached  home,  it  was  already 
m  I  ^  dark  and  the  house  was  lighted  brilliantly. 
ill  The  boy's  troubles  had  vanished  in  that 
^^S  rapid  transformation  of  mood  which  in 
childhood  quickly  changes  one  emotion  into  another. 
Impatience  was  the  emotion  which  moved  him  at 
the  moment  and'  a  longing  for  praise  from  father 
and  mother  as  he  threw  himself  into  their  arms, 
and  those  of  Lili,  that  dearest  of  little  sisters. 

While  entering  Madrid  they  wasted  ten  precious 
minutes  lighting  the  carriage  lamps,  and  the  custom 
officers  delayed  them  at  the  city  gates  to  register 
everything  in  the  carriage.  How  aggravating  these 
men  were!  And  then,  as  they  turned  the  corner  of 
the  University,  a  carriage  got  in  their  way.  After 
that  a  large  van.  So  another  precious  three  minutes 
was  lost.  At  last  the  boy  reached  the  street;  and 
his  hands  were  on  the  door  eager  to  open  it;  maybe 
his  father  or  mother  or  Lili,  perhaps  all  three,  were 
waiting  for  him  watching  from  some  balcony.  But 
the  balconies  were  empty  and  there  was  no  one  in 
sight.  Hugging  his  prizes  the  boy  ran  up  the  steps 
of  the  vestibule.  There  was  a  strange  figure  at  the 
entrance,  walking  backwards  and  forwards  with 
arms  behind  his  back.  This  was  a  hideous  dwarf, 
a  fitting  rival  of  that  famous  Roby  who  was  pre- 
sented to  the  King  of  Saxony  in  a  venison  pie.  He 
was  but  three  feet  in  height,  though  perfectly  pro- 
portioned, dressed  carefully  in  evening  attaire.  His 
name  was  Don  Joselito,  and  he  received  the  muni- 
ficent wage  of  seven  thousand  reals,  with  no  other 
duty  than  that  of  announcing  visitors  and  of  increas- 
ing that  reputation  of  Curra  for  oddity  which  she 
aimed  to  possess  in  everything. 

The  dwarf  bowed  respectfully  to  the  lad  and 
told  him  that  the  Countess  had  retired  a  half  hour 
ago  with  a  bad  headache.  The  boy's  eyes  suggested 
tears;  and  savagely  turning  his  back  on  the  dwarf, 
he  ran  to  his  father's  apartment.  Villamelon  was 
reclining  in  an  armchair  discussing  some  my- 
sterious matter  with  one  of  the  ministers  of  the 
government.  Luis  ran  to  his  father  and  threw  his 
arms  about  his  neck,  kissing  him  twice. 

"Ah,  little  man!"  cried  Villamelon.  "You  back 
already?" 

Then  seeing  that  the  boy  was  bashfully  present- 
ing him  with  his  prizes,  he  said  without  taking  them : 
"Well,  well!  Prizes!  I  am  very  much  pleased. 
Take  this — er — and  tell  German  to  take  you  to  the 
theatre  this  evening." 

Giving  the  child  fifty  cents,  he  turned  round 
again  to  the  Minister  and  continued  the  mysterious 


conversation.  His  eyes  wide-open,  the  boy  stood 
perfectly  still  for  a  moment.  Then  he  swung  round 
on  one  foot,  and  with  face  red  as  a  pomegranate, 
walked  toward  a  table  covered  with  knick-knacks. 
Underneath  this  was  a  curious  Japanese  figure  with 
wide-open  mouth,  into  which  he  threw  the  money 
his  father  had  given  him.  Running  hastily  out  of 
the  drawing-room,  he  stopped  for  a  meditative 
second  behind  the  curtains  of  the  door,  and  then 
with  arms  hanging  by  his  side  and  with  bowed  head, 
he  slowly  went  back  down  the  long  hall  which  lead 
to  the  nursery. 

In  the  corridor  there  was  a  sound  of  a  piano 
considerably  out  of  tune.  Yet  the  music  sounded  to 
the  child  like  music  of  heaven.  His  depression 
vanished,  and  joyfully  he  began  to  run  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  music. 

"Lili!" 

"Luis!"  _ 

A  beautiful  girl  of  nine  years  jumped  down 
from  the  piano  stool  and  threw  herself  into  the  boy's 
open  arms.  Their  kisses,  their  joy,  their  laughter 
mingled  with  the  confusion  of  their  golden  curls 
surrounding  both  their  heads  like  sun's  rays  in  a 
auriole. 

Soon  the  boy  remembered  the  prizes. 

"Look — look!" 

Lili  opened  wide  eyes.     "Uy!"  she  said. 

"I  have  five  and  two  excellents." 

"Please  let  me  have  one,  Luis." 

"Silly-billy!  These  are  to  be  framed,  not 
given  away.  Look!  This  one  is  for  mathematics, 
and  this  one  for — " 

He  stopped.  A  dry  hand  appeared  from  behind 
the  curtains,  then  a  sharp  shoulder,  and  finally  a  red 
face  as  English  as  Bass  Ale  or  Huntley's  biscuits. 

"Mademoiselle!"  cried  Lili  frightened. 

The  dry  hand  seized  Lili  by  the  arm  and  pulled 
her  behind  the  curtains,  while  a  metallic  voice  was 
heard  saying:  How's  this,  Miss?  You  should  be 
practicing   your   piano   lesson   until    eight   o'clock." 

The  lad  flew  headlong  to  the  nursery  and  flung 
himself  down  on  his  little  white  bed  with  the  des- 
peration of  a  suicide  who  hurls  himself  without  hope 
into  a  dark  abyss.  At  last  sleep,  the  sole  consoler 
of  unhappy  children,  brought  his  sobs  to  an  end 
and  restrained  his  tears.  He  slept  as  he  was,  still 
dressed,  with  his  prizes  in  his  hands 


m 


EANWHILE  Villamelon  was  engaged  in  con- 
versation with  the  Minister.  The  Marquis 
was  forty  years  of  age  and  his  face  showed 


THE  +  SIGN 


the  effects  of  the  ravages  of  time.  His  nose  was 
red  and  pimply,  his  hollow  cheeks  showed  promi- 
nent bones,  while  his  stomach  developed  a  pro- 
nounced arch,  creating  that  caricature  of  youth 
which  appears  in  those  who  age  before  their  time. 
His  figure  had  once  been  graceful,  and  still  possessed 
some  signs  of  elegance,  but  his  countenance  resem- 
bled that  of  the  dwarf  of  Philip  IV  in  Velasquez's 
famous  painting.  He  had  a  similar  hooked  nose, 
the  same  twirled  mustache,  the  same  large  and 
thoughtful  forehead,  save  that  Villamelon  parted 
his  few  locks  in  the  center  with  a  backward  stroke 
that  formed  two  little  horns  of  hair  over  the  ears. 
This  massive  forehead,  which  brought  to  mind  the 
famous  saying  of  the  fox  to  the  bust :  "Your  head  is 
handsome  but  without  brains,"  possessed  magnificent 
attributes,  especially  at  the  moment  when  he  bent 
toward  his  Excellency  Don  John  Anthony  Martin, 
Minister  of  the  Interior,  and  said:  "You  are 
deceived,  Don  Martin:  Dr.  Wood  is  all  wrong. 
You  cannot  prove  to  me  that  rat  pie  is  better  than 
squirrel  pie.    You  understand  me,  do  you  not?" 

His  Excellency  Don  Martin's  gesture  did  not 
indicate  whether  he  understood  or  not.  From  the 
time  this  unfortunate  man  had  arrived  at  the  great 
tables  of  the  Court  after  years  of  eating  at  a 
peasant's  table,  he  had  passed  through  graphic 
phases  of  indigestion,  and  had  begun  to  feel  a  desire 
for  the  garlic  soups  of  his  earlier  years.  What 
terrible  pains  he  had  suffered  from  that  pate-de-foie- 
gras  last  Friday  at  the  Palace!  What  indigestion 
he  had  endured  after  that  crou  a  la  creme  which 
he  had  eaten  two  days  before  at  the  French 
Embassy!  For  a  brief  moment  he  had  imagined 
that  he  had  been  poisoned;  and  from  that  time  held 
fast  to  Addison's  saying;  that  whenever  he  saw 
fashionable  tables  loaded  with  luxuries  from  all 
corners  of  the  world,  he  also  saw  gout,  dropsy  and 
lethargy  hidden  under  every  napkin. 

"You'll  see,  Martin,  when  I'll  have  both  kinds 
of  pie  served  next  Thursday  without  saying  which 
is  which.  We'll  see  which  is  declared  the  best.  Do 
you  understand,  Martin?  Pardon  me  for  believing 
that  I  can  count  on  your  Excellency's  vote?" 

His  Excellency's  hair  stood  on  end  at  the 
thought  of  an  attack  of  indigestion  founded  on 
rat  pie. 

"All  this,"  continued  Villamelon,  "is  that 
English  eccentricity  which  totally  ruins  their  cuisine. 
You  understand  me,  Martin?  In  cooking,  the  French 
are  ahead  of  all  others.  You  can't  deny  that,  Martin. 
The  English  devour,  the  Germans  gorge,  the  Italians 
eat,  the  Spaniards  nourish  themselves,  but  the 
French  alone  enjoy:  there's  the  point,  Martin — to 
enjoy  eating.     Do  you  understand  me?" 

OON  MARTIN  did  not  understand,  but  took 
offense  at  all  these  "Martins"  and  "do  you 
understands."  He  hastened  to  reply  in  an 
exasperated  manner :  "What  do  you  mean,  Marquis  ? 
To  enjoy  or  to  burst?" 


"No,  no,  no — Martin.  That  is  a  prejudice  of 
yours.  You  understand  me?  Man  is  a  weak,  frail 
being  who  can  barely  support  eight  meals  per  day. 
But  indigestion  does  not  come  from  eating  too  much. 
It  comes  from  eating  badly.  Give  me  a  first  class 
cook  and  I  can  show  you  the  way  to  perfect  health. 
In  Paris,  Prince  Orloff,  the  Russian  Ambassador, 
held  a  public  competition  to  select  a  cook.  I  was 
on  the  jury.  We  tested  one  hundred  and  forty 
dishes  before  coming  to  a  decision.  No,  no,  Martin. 
Eating  too  much  does  not  give  indigestion.  As  my 
blessed  mother  used  to  say :  'Stomach  full :  praise 
be  to  God!" 

And  he  adopted  a  pompous  air  over  the  quota- 
tion; for  it  was  one  of  Villamelon's  little  tricks 
frequently  to  mention  his  mother,  always  calling 
her  blessed,  and  putting  in  that  feminine  mouth 
odd  sayings,  many  of  them  in  exceedingly  bad  taste, 
such  as  the  one  just  mentioned. 

At  this  moment  John  Velarde  and  the  Duke  of 
Bringas,  having  finished  their  game  of  billiards, 
entered  the  room.  Shortly  after  their  arrival,  a 
servant  announced  that  the  Countess  would  be 
unable  to  attend  dinner,  having  already  had  a  con- 
somme in  her  room  and  had  retired  for  the  night 
with  a  bad  headache. 

This  announcement  did  not  have  the  effect  of 
upsetting  the  lady's  husband  or  the  Duke  of 
Bringas;  but  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  showed 
that  it  had  a  bad  effect  on  him;  and  forcibly 
brought  the  idea  to  one's  mind  that  the  absence  of 
Curra  had  completely  upset  the  plan  which  had 
originally  brought  him  to  the  house.  As  Butron 
had  feared,  the  appointment  of  the  first  lady-in- 
waiting  was  causing  complications.  John  Velarde 
also  seemed  disturbed.  During  dinner  he  ate  little, 
and  talked  even  less. 

Villamelon  passed  through  his  usual  phases  at 
dinner;  at  the  beginning  of  the  meal  completely 
engrossed  in  the  important  business  before  him; 
then  toward  the  middle  of  dinner  growing  more 
affable,  though  still  staid  and  circumspect;  at  desert, 
gay  filled  with  charity  toward  all,  as  though  his 
dinner  had  loosed  in  him  a  stream  of  affability 
which  he  never  possessed  while  fasting.  This  was 
the  time  to  request  favors  with  a  certainty  of  their 
being  granted.  It  was  also  the  time  when  he  gave 
way  to  an  upleasant  habit,  of  which  neither  his 
blessed  mother  nor  his  dear  wife  had  ever  been  able 
to  break  him,  of  making  little  balls  of  bread  and 
shooting  them  with  delicate  aim  at  his  guests,  with 
signs  of  affectionate  regard  and  merriment 

Meanwhile  had  an  inquisitive  imp  lifted  the  roof 
off  the  Countess  Curra's  boudoir,  he  would  have 
revealed  an  odd  scene.  Curra,  seated  at  a  low  desk 
lighted  by  a  lamp  in  the  hand  of  a  life-size  statue 
of  a  negro  with  grinning  white  teeth,  was  completely 
absorbed  in  an  elaborate  caligraphic  study,  while 
a  smile  vague  yet  cunning  flitted  over  her  face.  In 
her  large  clear  handwriting  she  was  writing  on  a 
sheet  of  paper:  "What  a  strange  animal  man  is!" 


THE  t  SIGN 


Then  with  clever  facility  she  was  copying  the  phrase 
in  different  manners  of  handwritting.  The  phrase 
multiplied  itself,  sometimes  written  in  small  letters, 
at  other  times  in  large,  firm  outlines.  Curra  con- 
tinued this  odd  employment  for  half  an  hour  with 
all  the  attention  of  a  child  laboriously  copying  a 
school  exercize,  or  of  a  forger  trying  to  falsify  a 
signature. 

She  finally  seemed  satisfied  with  the  result, 
and  in  a  small,  constrained  handwritting,  that  in  no 
way  resembled  her  own,  wrote  a  letter  on  a  sheet  of 
plain  notepaper.  The  letter  was  not  long.  On  the 
envelope  was  written : 

To  His  Excellency  the  Civil  Governor  of 
Madrid. 

GURRA  went  into  her  bedroom  and  at  the  end 
of  some  fifteen  minutes  reappeared  com- 
pletely transformed.  She  had  changed  her 
beautiful  street  gown  for  a  plain  black  wool  skirt 
and  an  old  mantilla  which  partly  hid  her  face.  She 
carried  a  lighted  candle  and  a  large  key.  Picking 
up  the  letter,  she  left  the  room.  Just  then  a  distant 
clock  struck  half  past  eleven. 

Villamelon's  house  was  one  of  those  ancient 
houses  with  long  halls,  large  drawing-rooms  and 
spacious  apartments,  surrounded  by  small  corridors 
and  private  stairways  for  the  use  of  servants. 
Curra's  apartment  communicated  with  such  a  long 
private  pasage  way.  This  ended  in  a  narrow  stair- 
way which  led  down  to  a  small  garden.  She 
descended  these  stairs,  and  walked  toward  a  gate 
leading  into  the  street  with  an  assurance  that  showed 
clearly  that  this  was  not  the  first  of  her  nocturnal 
adventures. 

It  was  dark  and  the  little  plaza  on  which  the 
gate  opened  was  lighted  with  only  a  few  dim 
lanterns.  All  was  dark  and  deserted.  The  haughty 
Countess,  who  so  seldom  left  her  carriage  to  walk 
in  the  dust  of  which  she  was  made,  passed  along 
these  dark  streets,  crossed  many  roads,  deserted  at 
this  late  hour,  and  finally  arrived  at  the  little  square 
of  St.  Dominic.  Passing  through  this,  she  sought 
the  shelter  of  la  Costanilla  de  los  Angeles.  With 
a  wide  circuit  she  passed  the  rear  of  the  Ministry 
of  the  Interior,  and  came  to  the  Calle  de  las 
Carretas.  There  she  posted  the  mysterious  letter. 
If  this  lady  was  a  criminal,  she  was  a  very  careful 
and  practical  criminal,  who  saw  in  every  possible 
onlooker  a  road  that  might  lead  to  prison. 

She  then  started  on  her  journey  homewards, 
passing  through  the  dark  streets  by  which  she  had 
come.  On  the  way  she  met  with  but  one  interrup- 
tion. An  old  man  of  decent  appearance  suddenly 
stopped  in  front  of  her.  He  had  mistaken  her  for 
one  of  those  unfortunate  creatures  who  extend  thin 
hands  for  charity  to  passers-by  in  the  small  hours 
of  the  morning. 

So  at  last  the  Countess  thought.  She  took  the 
money  which  the  man  offered  her  overcome  with  a 
frantic  desire  to  laugh  in  his  face,  yet  not  hesitating 


to  profane  with  her  corrupt  lips  that  beautiful 
answer  which  Faith  gives  to  her  Sister  Charity 
through  the  mouths- of  the  poor:  "May  God  reward 
you!" 

When  she  returned  to  her  boudoir,  it  had  a 
strange  and  sinister  appearance.  The  lamp  in  the 
hand  of  the  negro  was  flickering  out,  and  his  teeth 
of  white  marble  showed  in  the  darkness  with  the 
smile  of  some  devil  amusing  himself  in  the  regions 
of  Hell. 

Three  hours  later,  screams  of  terror  came  from 
the  other  side  of  the  house.  It  was  Luis,  who  had 
awakened  in  the  nursery,  numbed  and  terrified  in 
the  darkness  of  the  early  dawn,  deserted  by  father 
and  mother,  and  the  seventeen  servants  engaged  in 
their  employ. 

CHAPTER   V. 

"^^^^HE  Countess  Curra  laughed  heartily  the 
d  C~\  following  day  when  her  son  Luis  told  her 
^  )  of  his  uncanny  adventure  of  the  night 
^^^  before,  when,  finding  himself  alone  and 
fully  dressed  on  his  bed  in  the  nursery,  he  had 
commenced  to  scream  frantically  for  help.  Mag- 
delena,  Lili's  nurse,  had  heard  his  cries  and  came 
to  calm  him,  sitting  by  his  little  white  bed  until 
he  fell  asleep  again.  The  story  produced  in  Curra 
one  of  those  spasms  of  maternal  love  which  attacked 
her  in  her  moments  of  despondency.  During  these 
brief  spells  of  maternal  affection,  she  would  haunt 
the  nursery,  playing  with  the  children,  buying  them 
costly  toys,  and  amusing  herself  making  fun  of  the 
English  governess;  also  reviling  the  good  Fathers 
of  the  College,  destroying  in  these  raids  on  the 
nursery  all  the  good  which,  with  much  labor,  these 
had  sown  in  the  hearts  of  the  two  children. 

Her  hailstorm  of  kisses  and  pettings  always 
effaced  from  Lili's  mind  the  memory  of  previous 
periods  of  neglect,  but  these  miniature  tempests 
of  affection  did  not  effect  the  boy.  In  a  corner  of 
his  small  heart  an  unfailing  memory  gathered  a  list 
of  the  insults  and  tortures  he  had  endured.  As 
yet  he  pardoned  his  mother's  hypocrisies,  though 
he  could  not  entirely  forget  them. 

However,  it  was  not  a  fit  of  despondency  which 
brought  Curra  to  the  nursery  that  morning.  She 
seemed  preoccupied  and  restless.  Lili  had  a  happy 
inspiration.  She  asked  her  mother  to  have  Luis 
photographed  with  his  prizes.  But  the  boy  grew  red, 
and  refused  emphatically. 

'Why,  of  course  you  shall!"  cried  the  Countess. 
"And  this  very  second.  German,  tell  the  Marquis 
we  are  coming  up  to  his  gallery  to  be  photographed." 

"No,  no;  not  Papa!"  cried  Luis. 

"Why  not?     cried  Curra,  grasping  his  arm. 

The  child  pulled  himself  away.  "He  told  me 
to  go  away.  He  gave  me  two  pesetas,"  said  the 
child,  crimson  and  much  effected,  hiding  his  head 
on  his  mother's  breast. 

Little  did  Curra  understand.     She  saw  in  the 


THE  *f  SIGN 


boy  but  childish  caprice,  and  with  jokes  and 
caresses,  tried  to  persuade  him  to  have  his  picture 
taken.  He  yielded  finally,  and  with  the  two  children 
following  her,  Curra  went  up  to  the  splendid 
apartment  where  the  Marquis  of  Villamelon  spent 
his  many  idle  moments  driving  dullness  and  care 
away  by  experimenting  in  the  art  of  photography. 
To  eat,  sleep  and  photograph  everything  that  passed 
before  the  lens  of  his  cameras  were  the  sole 
occupations  of  the  man  whose  ancestors  had  played 
such  a  great  part  in  the  making  of  Spain. 

VILLAMELON  hastened,  as  usual,  to  comply 
with  Curra's  request.  He  began  without  loss 
of  time  to  prepare  his  camera,  his  fingers 
stained  with  nitrate  of  silver.  Curra  meanwhile 
prepared  the  children  in  an  artistic  group,  seating 
them  on  a  gothic  settee  looking  earnestly  at  the 
boy's  prizes. 

"Splendid!"  she  cried.  "Look,  Ferdinand;  it 
is  like  one  of .  . .  ." 

She  hesitated,  for  the  door  opened  and  a 
servant  announced  that  the  Minister  of  the  Interior 
was  below  and  very  anxious  to  see  the  Countess 
at  once.  She  turned  suddenly  on  her  husband, 
who  looked  up,  frightened,  the  black  cloth  which 
he  was  using  to  focus  the  camera  remaining  on  his 
head.  Curra  walked  a  few  steps  toward  her  husband, 
the  anger  in  her  bright  eyes  corresponding  oddly 
with  the  soft  voice  and  deliberate  tone  with  which 
she  asked:  "Did  that  ox  dine  here  yesterday?" 

"He  is  a  beast,"  and  to  hide  his  fright,  Villa- 
melon  again  disappeared  under  the  black  cloth, 
playing  at  adjusting  his  camera. 

"Listen  to  me,  Ferdinand,  when  I  am  talking  to 
you." 

Villamelon  straightened  himself  from  beneath 
the  black  cloth  even  more  embarrassed. 

"Did  the  Minister  say  anything  last  evening 
about  the  appointment?" 

"Nothing,"   stammered   Villamelon. 

"Are  you  sure?" 

Villamelon's  lips  trembled  like  those  of  a  child 
who  was  trying  to  tell  a  lie.  Then,  as  though 
thinking  better  of  it,  he  thought  that  the  ox  of  a 
Minister  had  told  him  that  rat  pie  was  very  indi- 
gestible. A  lot  of  foolishness!  On  the  other  hand, 
the  Minister  had  told  John  Velarde  that  he  was 
going  to  stop  people  making  fun  of  the  Government, 
and  that  he  intended  to  force  Curra  to  accept  the 
appointment  as  first  lady-in-waiting,  supporting 
himself  with  a  letter  with  which — and  this  Vil- 
lamelon thought  most  impolite — he  had  threatened 
to  rub  Curra's  nose. 

"A  letter?"  exclaimed  Curra-,  really  surprised. 
"From  whom?" 

"From  me!   From  me!"    stammered  Villamelon. 

Curra  advanced  toward  him,  and  with  her  voice 
growing  softer  as  she  grew  more  and  more  angry: 
"And  so  you  wrote  to  him,  Ferdinand?" 


Villamelon  bowed  his  head,  overcome  with 
terror. 

"And  after  I  told  you  only  to  speak  to  him  about 
it?  After  I  warned  you  that  nothing  must  be 
written?     You  see,  Ferdinand — " 

Villamelon  retreated  as  Curra  advanced.  "And 
he  said  that  he  was  going  to  present  this  letter  to 
me  and  use  it  over  me  as  a  whip?" 

"So  Velarde  said." 

"You  are  sure?" 

"Absolutely  sure." 

Again  Villamelon  retreated,  as  Curra  came 
nearer,  repeating  in  a  voice  so  soft  that  it  seemed 
but  a  caress :  "You  see,  you  see,  Ferdinand  ?" 

And  suddenly  jerking  the  black  cloth,  she  com- 
pletely enveloped  the  head  of  her  illustrious  hus- 
band in  its  folds.  Turning  her  back  on  him,  as  he 
struggled  to  free  himself,  she  walked  composedly 
out  of  the  room.  Lili  shrieked  with  laughter  at  her 
father  vainly  struggling  to  fight  his  way  out  of  the 
bag,  running  to  Luis  to  whisper  a  great  secret  in 
his  ear:  "What  a  goose  Papa  is!" 

^^^HE  butler  was  surprised  to  hear  Curra,  in 
I)  passing,  give  him  the  order  to  light  a  large 
^*"^  fire  in  the  boudoir.  It  was  well  on  in  June, 
and  the  heat  was  already  intense.  But  he  obeyed 
without  question;  and  when  His  Excellency  the 
Minister  of  the  Interior,  Don  John  Anthony  Martin, 
came  into  the  room,  he  found  a  huge  fire  burning  in 
the  grate,  while  Curra  reclined  nearby  on  a  lounge, 
covered  with  a  large  Scotch  plaid,  and  wearing  a 
silk  satin  morning-wrapper.  Holding  out  her  hand 
as  he  entered,  she  said  in  the  weak  voice  of  an 
invalid:  "How  are  you,  Don  Martin?  You  are  the 
only  person  I  would  have  received  to-day." 

The  visitor  growled,  a  sure  sign  with  him  that 
he  was  startled,  and,  glued  to  the  spot,  began  to 
perspire  at  the  sight  of  the  fire. 

"But  what  is  this,  Countess?  You  are  still 
suffering  from  that  headache?" 

"I  am  indeed  unfortunate,"  replied  Curra.  "I 
am  afraid  that  I  have  chills  and  fever." 

She  shivered  as  though  with  cold,  and  pointed 
out  a  chair  for  the  Minister,  near  the  fire  and  within 
reach  of  her  hand.  Martin  seated  himself  cautiously, 
prepared  to  be  roasted  like  St.  Lawrence  on  his 
gridiron. 

"I  am  very  sorry,"  he  said;  and  recollecting 
the  rustic  remedies  of  his  childhood,  he  added: 
"Why  don't  you  put  two  little  potato  plasters  on 
your  forehead?     An  excellent  remedy!" 

"Potatoes!"  exclaimed  Curra.  "What  an  idea, 
Martin!     I  prefer  the  headache." 

Curra  settled  her  head  comfortably  on  a 
cushion,  regarding  Martin,  who  settled  his  glasses 
on  his  nose  after  this  interchange  of  civilities,  and 
menacing  the  lady  with  a  fat  finger,  said  to  her: 
"They  are  very  angry  at  the  palace." 

Curra  shrugged  her  pretty  shoulders.  "Why 
tell  me  this?" 


THE  +  SIGN 


"Why  you?  Madame,  the  King  and  Queen  are 
very  much  displeased." 

"But  what,  my  dear  Martin,  have  I  to  do  with 
their  feelings?" 

"What  have  you  to  do?"  cried  the  Minister, 
suffocating  from  the  intense  heat  and  exasperated 
at  Curra's  calmness.  "Does  it  mean  nothing  to  you 
to  ask  for  the  position  of  first  lady-in-waiting  and 
then  toss  it  lightly  aside  after  it  is  offered  to  you? 
Can  one  play  with  a  Queen  like  that?  You  nought 
as  well  know  now  that  the  Government  has  decided 
to  force  you  to  accept  the  position  you  requested." 

And  the  Minister,  red  and  perspiring,  and  with 
both  hands  firmly  fixed  on  his  fat  knees,  glowered 
at  Curra  as  though  he  would  swallow  her  in  one 
mouthful.  His  intensity  of  expression  did  not 
terrify  the  lady.  She  casually  raised  herself,  and 
much  astonished,  not  to  say  offended,  commenced 
in  her  aggrieved  voice:  "But,  Martin,  don't  get  so 
excited.  You  look  positively  ugly.  There  must  be 
a  mistake  somewhere.  I,  first  lady-in-waiting  to 
the  Queen!  Where  did  you  ever  hear  that 
nonsense?" 

"From  yourself,  from  yourself!"  cried  the 
Minister.  "You  dor't  dare  deny  that  you  asked 
before  the  minister  of  Ultramar  for  the  post  of 
first  lady-in-waiting,  provided  that  John  Velarde 
became  secretary  to  the  King,  and  that  you  received 
six  thousand  dollars." 

"But  I  do  deny  it  and  emphatically,"  cried 
Curra. 

"Well,  we  will  see  if  your  husband  can  deny  it, 
then,  when  all  the  papers  in  Madrid  publish  this 
letter."  And  Don  Martin  took  a  letter  out  of  an 
inside  pocket.  He  unfolded  it  in  front  of  Curra 
carefully,  and  when  she  made  a  quick  attempt  to 
snatch  at  it,  held  it  back,  saying  brutally:  "Don't 
worry!  I  hold  fast  to  this.  But  you  shall  hear  me 
read  it  from  beginning  to  end." 

With  spectacles  on  nose,  for  he  was  near- 
sighted, the  Minister  began.  In  it  Villamelon  in 
conjunction  with  his  wife  asked  for  the  position  of 
first  lady-in-waiting  for  that  lady,  under  the  two 
conditions  just  mentioned  by  Martin — the  private 
secretaryship  for  Velarde,  and  six  thousand  dollars 
for  the  lady  herself. 

This  was  conclusive  proof,  and  Curra  now 
understood  all  her  husband's  folly  in  letting  such 
a  request  get  into  writing.  She  did  not  seem  effected, 
however.  As  the  Minister  continued  reading,  she 
gradually  raised  herself  higher  on  the  pillows,  with 
faint  cries  of  protest;  and  then,  suddenly,  with  the 
quickness  of  a  cat,  she  grabbed  the  dangerous 
letter  from  the  Minister's  hands  and  threw  it  into 
the  fire.    In  an  instant  the  paper  was  but  ashes. 

The  Minister  fell  back  into  his  seat  with  an 
oath,  while  Curra  sank  softly  amid  her  cushions,  as 
if  nothing  had  happened,  saying  with  her  hard  little 
laugh : 

"Well,  well,  Martin!  You  must  really  put  two 
little  potato  plasters  on.    They  are  most  refreshing!" 


CHAPTER    VI. 

^^=^HE  porter  at  the  door  of  Villamelon's  house 
I)  received  a  tremendous  fright  the  day  follow- 
^^^  ing  Don  Martin's  visit  to  Curra.  At  ten  in 
the  morning  he  was  peacefully  cleaning  the  antique 
seats  in  the  hall  when  a  group  of  suspicious  looking 
individuals  suddenly  broke  into  the  house.  The 
porter,  terrified,  slammed  the  glass  door  in  their 
faces,  but  a  few  terrific  blows  shattered  two  of  its 
heraldic  and  decorated  panes.  Balthasar  fled  up 
the  stairs,  falling  over  the  dwarf  Joselito  who  was 
carefully  polishing  the  metallic  rods  which  kept  the 
carpet  on  the  stairs  in  place.  The  dwarf  fled  also, 
screaming  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  Before  long  the 
seventeen  servants  were  all  rushing  hither  and 
thither,  opening  and  shutting  doors,  and  alarming 
the  entire  household. 

Meanwhile  the  invaders  reached  a  deserted 
antechamber,  and  the  leader  of  the  party  began  to 
knock  on  the  floor  with  his  stick  and  to  demand  the 
Countess  of  Albornoz  in  the  King's  name.  The 
leader  was  the  chief  of  police,  who  had  come  in 
the  name  of  the  Civil  Governor  of  the  city  to  search 
the  house,  and  to  seize  all  of  Curra's  papers  for 
purposes  of  inspection  by  the  authorities.  His 
companions  stationed  themselves  so  as  to  guard  all 
the  exits  from  the  house,  leaving  the  doors  open, 
however,  so  that  anyone  who  desired  might  enter. 

Villamelon  was  still  sleeping  peacefully.  But 
Curra,  contrary  to  her  usual  custom,  had  been  up 
early,  as  though  she  was  expecting  something  to 
happen.  She  at  once  noticed  the  tumult,  and  though 
pale,  kept  her  head  under  the  riot  around  her.  All 
exits  being  carefully  guarded,  she  instructed  a  page 
to  scale  a  wall  behind  the  house,  and  to  notify  the 
Marquis  of  Butron  as  to  what  had  occurred. 

Villamelon's  awakening  was  appalling.  He 
was  ready  to  die  of  fright.  He  attributed  this 
invasion  of  the  police  to  the  letter  which  he  had 
written  to  the  government  requesting  Curra's 
appointment  as  first  lady-in-wraiting.  Curra  had 
prophesied  the  day  before  that  something  un- 
pleasant would  result  from  that  incautious  letter. 
Here  was  something  unpleasant.  Shivering  with 
fright,  he  tucked  himself  firmly  under  the  bed- 
clothes; and  all  of  Curra's  demands  that  he  go 
downstairs  and  receive  the  police  availed  nothing. 
He  pleaded  that  he  had  a  desperate  cold,  and  that 
he  would  have  a  spasm  if  he  ventured  into  a  draught. 
Curra  had  started  all  this  business.  Let  her  extricate 
herself  as  best  she  could. 

(0  it  was  finally  Curra  herself  who  descended 
with  haughty  mien  to  interview  the  invaders. 
She  demanded  of  the  chief  of  police  the 
search  warrant  of  the  Governor  legalized  by  a  judge, 
which  alone  permitted  such  an  invasion.  The  chief 
of  police  politely  handed  it  to  her,  and  after  reading 
it  she  tore  it  violently  in  half.  She  then  made  a 
furious  protest,   in  which   she   emphatically  stated 


THE  +  SIGN 


her  Alfonsist  sympathies,  and  sending  a  flunkey  to 
escort  the  invaders  through  the  house,  she  retired 
to  the  billiard  room,  where  she  sat  in  queenly  state 
among  her  maids,  clinging  to  Lili  and  Luis,  who 
had  been  brought  to  her. 

The  news  of  the  invasion  had  spread  rapidly 
through  the  Court,  and  thence  to  the  cafes  and 
plazas.  A  crowd  gathered  outside  the  house,  await- 
ing developements,  and  watching  with  stupid  gaze 
the  long  line  of  carriages  which  drew  up  in  front 
of  the  door,  while  ladies  and  gentlemen  passed 
rapidly  in  and  out.  the  former  arrived  en  deshabille, 
fluttering  around  Curra  with  exclamations  of  horror, 
surprise,  enthusiasm  and  pity.  This  is  exactly  what 
Curra  had  planned.  With  eyes  raised  to  heaven 
and  with  the  air  of  a  resigned  victim,  she  gave 
graphic  accounts  of  the  invasion.  What  would  be- 
come of  her  poor  children?  Here  was  Ferdinand 
prostrated  in  bed,  and  his  health  needing  every 
attention!  The  ladies  shuddered  over  Curra's  mis- 
fortune, all  talking  at  once,  attempting  outwardly 
to  comfort  the  unfortunate  lady,  though  inwardly 
cursing  that  Curra  and  not  themselves  were  under 
the  suspicion  of  the  police,  a  suspicion  which  had 
lifted  her  to  the  pinnacles  of  celebrity  at  a  single 
bound. 

Several  reporters  arrived,  and  received  full  in- 
formation about  the  event  from  Curra's  own  lips. 
Leopoldina  Pastor  burst  in  out  of  breath,  carrying 
an  enormous  prayerbook  in  her  hand.  She  had  just 
arrived  from  Mass,  for  she  had  been  making  a 
novena  to  St.  Paschal  to  beg  of  heaven  to  send  a 
stroke  of  apoplexy  upon  Don  Salustiano  de  Olozaga. 
She  expressed  amazement  that  Curra  had  not  thrown 
the  chief  of  police  out  of  the  window.  She  made  a 
great  fuss,   sticking  her  tongue  out  at  the  police 


agents  who  entered  the  room,  pushing  her  way 
through  the  crowd,  and  finally  retired  into  the  dining 
room,  for  it  was  now  nearly  twelve  o'clock.  She 
was  very  hungry,  had  had  nothing  to  eat,  and  she 
could  not,  of  course,  leave  her  dear  Curra  until  this 
lamentable  registration  was  over.  Many  followed 
her  into  the  dining  room  eager  to  fall  on  whatever 
provisions  the  house  could  provide. 

^^^0  the  astonishment  of  everyone,  who  was 
C^)  standing  in  a  corner  of  the  room  but  the 
^*"^  dying  Marquis,  leaning  over  a  sideboard, 
swallowing  hastily  a  cup  of  steaming  chocolate, 
hands  crammed  with  buttered  toast,  as  he  gazed  in 
all  directions,  terrified.  Having  recovered  from  his 
first  fright,  and  not  hearing  any  further  disturbance 
in  the  house,  he  had  suddenly  remembered  that  he 
was  extremely  hungry.  He  called  loudly  for  some- 
one to  bring  him  his  breakfast.  No  one  came  to 
answer  to  his  call.  Villamelon,  preferring  any  death 
to  death  by  starvation,  at  last  decided  to  get  up  and 
to  slip  by  private  passageways  to  the  kitchen  in 
search  of  his  daily  bread.  Having  secured  it,  he 
had  wandered  into  the  dining  room  to  devour  it. 

The  sudden  arrival  of  the  uninvited  guests  sent 
him  scurrying  for  safety,  chocolate  in  one  hand  and 
toast  in  the  other.  But  with  much  laughter  the 
aristocratic  and  hungry  mob  caught  him,  while 
Leopoldina  Pastor,  clinging  to  the  coat-tails  of  his 
morning  gown,  cried  out,  helpless  with  laughter: 
"Whither  away,  Ferdinand?  Don't  leave  us!  To 
be  able  to  commiserate  with  you,  we  must  have 
food.     Get  us  something  to  eat!" 

And  from  the  maitre  d'hotel  to  Joselito,  all  set 
to  work,  barely  able  to  supply  a  picnic  luncheon  for 
the  hungry  and  emotional  crowd. 


A  True-Cross  Sister 


Vaughn  Devlin 


Lone  gleams  the  arc-light's  v?hite  image 
In  the  flood  'neath  the  old  granite  pier; 
Firm,  though  'tis  lost  in  the  scrimmage 
Of  waters  that  belly"  and  rear, 
Soon  comes  a  maiden  belated, 
O.er  the  bridge  with  a  faltering  pace; 
The  ball-room's  gay  sound  has  abated, 
She — the  queen  of  its  beauty"  and  grace. 
But  the  Stone  that  has  gleamed  on  her  bosom 
To  her  heart  sent  its  bright  shafts  in  vain 
For  there  whirled  the  Waters  full  grewsome 
A  dark  svJeep  of  sorrov?  and  pain. 


Where  erstwhile  the  mad  flood  was  tangled 
Calm  moved  the  stream  and  the  air 
So  calm  that  the  moon's  image  dangled 
As  though  there  were  no  waters  there, 
Again  o'er  the  bridge  came  the  maiden 
Dark  robes  flowing  full  to  her  feet, 
Some  hovel  with  sorrow  is  laden; 
Thither  hastens  sweet  Soeur  Marguerite 
The  Stone  from  her  bosom's  rejected, 
For  her  heart  is  a  glass  chaste  and  true, 
Where  men  see  their  sorrows  reflected 
And  gather  their  courage  anew. 


Current   Fact   and   Comment 


ENERGETIC 

^^^HE  modern  world  is  'energetically'  lazy.  Men 
\^_J  think  because  they  are  always  in  a  hurry, 
they  are  always  busy;  they  imagine  that 
restlessness  is  industry.  The  fact  of  the  matter  is 
that  they  are  lazy,  and  what  they  would  have  us 
believe  to  be  the  exhaust  of  a  high-powered  turbine 
is  simply  the  whistle  of  a  peanut  stand.  This  is 
an  age  of  anesthetics:  painless  surgery,  painless 
dentistry,  painless  thinking.  To  be  'cultured'  one 
need  not  know  how  to  think,  one  need  only  know 
how  to  talk — and  to  be  'cultured'  you  know,  is 
everything.  "Can  you  say:  protoplasm,  H.  G. 
Wells,  advanced  thought,  feminism,  social  service, 
Bernard  Shaw,  eugenics?  Yes?  My,  my,  how 
learned  you  are!" 


LAZINESS 

Nothing  is  so  insipid  as  the  repetition  of  a 
stale  joke;  the  'culture'  stuff  is  nauseating.  Every 
place  is  infested  by  these  funny,  'learned'  folk, 
these  living  mimeographs,  walking  echoes  of  the 
Sunday  supplement. 

The  world  is  intellectually  asleep.  But  why 
try  to  wake  it  by  injections  of  morphean  modern 
thought?  It  does  not  need  technical  conferences, 
it  needs  Catholic  catechisms.  But  before  men  can 
become  less  'cultured'  and  more  candid,  before  they 
can  appreciate  their  vileness  before  God  and 
their  utter  helplessness  without  Him,  they  must 
have  more  thoughtful  leisure  and  less  slap-dash 
laziness. 


FRANCE   AGAIN   AT  THE  VATICAN 


XN  1904  France  broke  relations  with  the 
Vatican,  closed  the  religious  schools  and 
banished  the  Religious.  This  caused  great 
joy  to  the  enemies  of  the  Church.  They  saw  her 
end.  Had  not  Italy  robbed  the  Pope  of  his  temporal 
power?  And  now  that  France  had  turned  against 
her  it  was  expected  that  Spain  and  Austria  would 
do  likewise.  The  Church  without  government  sup- 
port must  fast  sink  into  decay.  Such  was  the 
prophecy  of  those  who  forget  that  the  Church  is 
not  built  upon  men  or  governments. 

Ten  years  later  we  see  the  retribution  of  the 
Hand  of  God.  France  is  on  her  knees  suffering  a 
cruel  scourging,  while  the  Vatican  in  all  its  ancient 
glory  looms  brightly  above  the  raging  conflict. 
Nations  vie  with  one  another  in  courting  the  friend- 
ship of  the  Holy  See.     England  and  Holland  which 


had  not  been  represented  at  the  Vatican  since  the 
Reformation  hastened  to  send  their  envoys  to  the 
Pope. 

France  was  forced  to  deal  with  the  Holy  See 
unofficially  during  the  war.  To  her  sorrow  she 
found  that  while  she  could  not  live  without  the 
Vatican  the  Vatican  could  very  well  live  without 
her.  So,  in  spite  of  the  vigorous  opposition  of  some 
of  the  Anti-Clericals,  France  re-established  relations 
with  the  Vatican  on  December  29,  1921. 

While  French  statesmen  look  to  the  new  order 
of  things  as  a  means  of  supporting  French  political 
interests  in  Turkey,  Syria  and  Central  Europe,  we 
can  confidently  expect  that  the  re-establishment  of 
diplomatic  relations  with  the  Pope  will  mean  even 
more  for  the  religious  and  moral  well  being  of  the 
French  people. 


A   SHORTAGE  OF   PRIESTS  THREATENS 


CONCLUSIONS  drawn  from  statistics  are 
notoriously  misleading.  Official  figures  for 
the  fourteen  years  ending  with  1921  indicate 
an  average  of  1  priest  to  855  of  the  Catholic  popu- 
lation in  the  United  States.  From  a  superficial  view 
we  might  conclude  that  one  priest  could  minister 
to  a  flock  of  that  size  and  have  time  to  spare  for 
leisurely  occupations.  We  might  also  conclude, 
therefore,  that  no  special  efforts  were  required  under 
the  circumstances  to  foster  vocations  to  the  priest- 
hood. The  fallacy  of  these  conclusions  is  clearly 
shown  by  George  Barnard  who  analyzes  them   in 


the  Ecclesiastical  Review. 

First,  we  err  in  visualizing  the  average  priest 
as  comfortably  and  conveniently  installed  in  the 
midst  of  a  flock  of  eight  or  nine  hundred  Catholics 
and  ministering  to  their  ordinary  needs.  There  are 
close  to  6000  churches  and  chapels  without  resident 
pastors  representing  the  heroic  efforts  of  bishops 
and  priests  to  stem  the  loss  of  faith  in  remote 
districts.  In  the  border  diocese  of  Corpus  Christi 
over  a  hundred  stations  are  attended  from  one 
mission  centre.  Again,  the  priest  is  occupied  not 
only  in  a  passive  way  with  those  who  with  a  lively 


THE  +  SIGN 


faith  seek  his  ministrations,  but  much  more  earnest- 
ly and  anxiously  is  he  concerned  about  those  who 
have  fallen  or  gone  astray.  And  he  may  not  neglect 
any  opportunity  to  bring  in  those  who  are  not  of  his 
fold.  Moreover  the  Church  in  America  is  now 
turning  a  corner  and,  confronting  the  new  social 
conditions,  is  providing  more  systematically  and 
directly  for  parochial,  diocesan  and  national  needs. 
To  carry  on  these  projects  and  for  educational  work 
a  large  quota  of  priests  must  be  withdrawn  from 
the  parochial  ministry, 

Secondly,  an  alarming  feature  of  the  aforesaid 
statistics  is  disclosed  when  we  inquire  how  the  pro- 
portion of  priests  to  Catholic  population  has  been 
maintained.  On  the  one  hand  there  is  the  steady 
increase  in  the  population  and  on  the  other  there  is 
the  loss  of  clergy  by  death — 345  priests  died  in 
1920.  To  maintain  the  proportion  770  priests  have 
been  added  to  the  total  yearly.  Now  the  startling 
statement  is  made  that  America  supplied  less  than 
half  of  these.  And,  further,  the  countries,  which 
have  for  years  regularly  contributed  to  the  ranks 
of  our  clergy,  can  no  longer  do  so.    The  war  besides 


depleting  their  numbers  opened  new  mission  fields 
and   responsibilities. 

Similar  concern  about  vocations  to  the  ministry 
has  been  manifested  among  non-Catholic  bodies. 
Almost  invariably  the  reason  given  in  their  case  is 
that  the  clergy  are  underpaid.  Such  a  motive  does 
not  enter  into  our  calculations.  About  one  among 
every  four  priests  in  this  country  tries  to  live  con- 
sistently with  a  vow  of  poverty  assumed  in  a 
religious  order.  Many  secular  priests  uncomplain- 
ingly feel  the  pinch  of  poverty  more  sharply  than 
they.  The  generosity  of  our  people  must  now  be 
extended  to  the  preparatory  field.  The  necessary 
expense  attached  to  the  long  years  of  training  while 
not  excessive,  is  prohibitive  to  many  a  youth  in 
meagre  circumstances  but  with  a  genuine  vocation 
and  an  ardent  zeal  for  souls.  Any  Catholic  casting 
about  for  some  practical  method  of  returning  thanks 
to  God  for  blessing  him  with  earthly  riches  need 
but  inquire  how  he  may  directly  help  to  set  such  a 
youth  upon  his  career  with  all  that  career  may 
entail  for  the  faith,  for  souls  and  for  the  glory  of 
God. 


LAY-RETREATS  FOR  THE  YOUTH 


>"TMONG  those  making  the  week-end  lay-retreats 

J I    are   regularly   found   young  men   and   boys. 

They  are  of  that  critical  period  when  the 
supporting  props  of  parental  and  school  discipline 
have  been  removed:  of  that  period  when  their 
spiritual  guides  consider  anxiously  the  rebound 
from  the  restraint  of  discipline  to  the  larger  freedom. 
Experienced  pastors  have  studied  and  applied  vari- 
ous methods  covering  the  mercurial  age  when  a 
wholesome  interest  in  spiritual  affairs  and  contact 
with  the  sources  of  grace  must  be  maintained.  For 
both  boys  and  girls  retreats  regularly  made  have  an 
excellent  stabilizing  effect.  Father  Martindale  in 
the  Irish  Ecclesiastical  Record  says :  "The  enormous 
bulk  of  our  children  leave  school  at  eleven  to  four- 
teen, and  even  the  more  fortunate  classes  do  so  at 
eighteen,  and  tend  to  do  so  younger.  In  neither 
case  is  there  any  Catholic  education  to  follow  which 
keeps  pace  with  every  other  education  that  life  is 
giving  them — intellectual,  professional,  social,  and 
that  of  sheer  experience  of  the  physical  and  mental 
crises  of  adolescence.  Mere  memories  of  child- 
hood's pieties,  mere  assertions  of  authority  are  not, 
and  I  dare  say  should  not  be,  enough  for  the  grow- 
ing boy  or  girl.  I  do  not  assuredly  decry  piety; 
it  is  astonishing  how  its  delicate  flower  survives  in 


the  hideous  life  of  factory  or  workship,  or  in  garage 
or  medical  lecture-room,  in  very  many  cases.  But 
not  normally.  How  should  it?  And  authority? 
The  authority  of  public  opinion  is  a  very  weighty 
one,  and  in  our  press,  our  theatres,  our  higher 
educational  books  and  establishments  the  authority 
runs  mostly  counter  to  that  of  catechism  and  of 
sermon.  In  the  conflict  between  authorities,  that 
which  is  to  conquer  must  be  very  clearly  the  best 
guaranteed.  And  in  our  early  education  it  is  im- 
possible to  anticipate  all  that  life  will  suggest  to 
make  the  Church's  authority  seem  weak.  Nor  can 
we  merely  be  satisfied  with  reclaiming  souls  that 
have  suffered  in  faith  or  morals.  We  ought  to 
prevent. .  And  we  cannot  be  satisfied  with  Catholics 
whose  private  career  is  correct,  or  who  at  least 
present  themselves  for  a  cure  when  they  fall 
spiritually  sick.  The  Church  must  be  Apostolic  in 
each  of  her  members.    We  ought  to  inspire." 

"To  help  to  this  end,  I  can  conceive  no  method 
anywhere  near  so  efficacious  as  retreats  for  boys 
and  girls  who  have  lately  left  school,  and  for  every 
class  of  adult." 

But  the  suggestion  to  make  the  retreat  must 
in  most  cases  come  from  the  parents. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


HATERS   OF   WEALTH 


"fcT^vE   had    quite   forgotten   those   million    dollars 

I P  spurned   by   a   Bay  State   scion   a   year   ago 

until  it  was  recently  announced  that  the  young 
man  had  changed  his  mind  and  had  decided  to 
accept  the  legacy.  An  interval  was  allowed  for  it 
to  be  buzzed  around — "I  told  you  so" — and  then 
the  harassed  youth  assured  the  public  that  he  had 
not  changed  his  opinion  about  excessive  fortunes 
and  that  he  planned  to  redistribute  the  million 
forthwith  consistently  with  his  announced  principles. 
A  strong  impulse  seized  us  to  write  and  ask  him 
to  consider  in  the  redistribution  our  China  mission- 
aries, a  burse  for  the  Preparatory  College  and  other 
projects  which  we  thought  would  appeal  as  eminent- 
ly in  harmony  with  his  principles.  But  we  aban- 
doned the  notion  upon  reflecting  that  he  had  pro- 
bably received  advice  enough  how  to  distribute 
such  a  fortune  as  his  several  times  multiplied. 

This  embarrassed  beneficiary  is  opposed  to  the 
economic  system  which  makes  possible  the  accumu- 
lation of  towering  fortunes.  With  Shakespeare's 
character  he  claims: 

"Distribution  should  so  undo  excess, 
And  each  man  have  enough." 
The  communal  life  of  the  Spartans,  if  not  of  the 
early  Christians,  would  appeal  to  him,  and  he  is 
probably  familiar  with  the  austere  theories  of  Tolstoi 
on  the  subject.  The  latter  also  knew  that  his  large 
possessions  belied  his  theories  and  he  therefore 
gave  them  all  away — to  his  wife. 

Whenever  the  supernatural  motive  is  not  ap- 
parent, instances  of  the  rejection  of  wealth  always 
cause  wonder  if  not  suspicion.  It  is  conceivable 
that  one  with  the  taste  and  instincts  for  rural  life 
such  as  Mr.  Garland  professes  could  be  fully  con- 
tented with  his  lot  and  could  see  no  further  emolu- 
ment in  stored  wealth.  But  might  he  not  wisely 
employ  the  million  at  least  in  spreading  similar 
wholesome  tastes  and  instincts  in  reply  to  the  lament 
in  the  war-time  ballad :  "How  are  you  going  to  keep 
them  down  on  the  farm?" 


St.  Paul,  the  hermit,  in  order  to  serve  God  more 
freely,  chose  to  live  in  the  desert  where  a  palm-tree 
furnished  him  shelter,  food  and  raimant.  At  this 
season  palm-trees  are  featured  in  advertisements 
alluring  the  wealthy  to  the  balmy  playgrounds  of 
the  South.  The  holy  hermit  could  successfully 
challenge  these  to  prove  that  they  found  greater 
happiness  and  contentment  than  he. 

Material  poverty  may  be  viewed  as  an  evil. 
Because  it  centers  itself  in  the  slums,  it  fosters  slum 
ideals  and  impedes  character  growth  in  the  young. 
It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  possesion  of  moderate 
wealth  procures  reasonable  comfort  'and  surcease 
from  anxiety  and  allows  leisure  for  nobler  occupa- 
tions. The  danger  lies  in  the  spirit  of  avarice  enter- 
ing in.  As  Ruskin  describes  it:  "Wherever  we  are, 
to  go  somewhere  else:  whatever  we  have,  to  get 
something  more."  The  spirit  of  avarice  is  implied 
also  in  the  farmer's  definition  of  prosperity:  "Pros- 
perity means  having  a  mortgage  and  getting  it  paid 
off;  and  when  you've  paid  off,  getting  enough  to 
buy  a  parlor  organ;  and  then  having  enough  to 
trade  the  organ  for  a  fine  piano,  and  so  on  without 
any  limit  whatsoever." 

Supernatural,  well-ordered  poverty  is  recom- 
mended by  the  Church  to  her  children  for  two 
motives.  The  surrender  of  one's  possessions  may 
be  made  in  the  light  of  heroic  sacrifice,  that  is,  out 
of  love  for  and  in  imitation  of  Him  Who,  for  our 
sakes,  was  born  in  a  stable,  often  had  not  whereon 
to  lay  His  Head,  and  Whose  poor  material  legacy 
were  only  His  garments  to  be  raffled  for  by  His 
executioners.  Poverty  also  is  a  curative  against 
avarice.  Not  in  riches,  but  in  what  riches  can  so 
readily  procure  for  the  indulgence  of  every  passion 
lies  the  peril.  Hence  could  the  Savior  warn  that 
the  rich  would  hardly  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
Only  those  who  love  God  will  enter  there.  Riches 
too  easily  procure  for  a  man  all  that  excludes  God 
from  his  heart. 


WAR  THEM 

CONSIDER  the  Disarmament  Conference  striv- 
ing to  regulate  the  use  of  submarines,  poison- 
gases  and  bombing  planes.     How  prolific  has 
not   devilish    ingenuity   been    in    the    brief    interim 
since    Hirman    Maxim,    the    great    American    gun- 


AND  NOW 

maker,  was  knighted  by  Queen  Victoria.  On  that 
occasion  he  elicited  from  Lord  Salisbury  the 
characterization:  "Maxim"  he  said  "has  prevented 
more  men  dying  of  old  age  than  any  other  man 
living." 


The   Broken   Lure 


Matthew  Kenan  Cai 


Off 


'E  were  playing  for  very  small  stakes.  All 
afternoon,  however, Trainor  had  been  losing 
so  steadily,  that  from  the  pile  of  chips 
before  the  other  five  of  us,  it  was  evident 
that  he  owed  quite  a  considerable  sum.  And  Trainor 
was  a  typically  hard  loser.  Extremely  jovial  when 
winning,  a  gloom  now  diffused  itself  from  his  dark 
face  and  massive  body.  For  some  time  his  silence 
had  been  nothing  less  than  ominous;  and  it  was  with 
a  feeling  of  djead  that  I  watched  the  brewing  storm, 
which  I  knew  must  soon  break. 

Suddenly  he  pulled  out  his  watch. 
"Well,  boys!'  he  said  briskly  with  a  pitiable 
attempt  to  smile,  "we  have  been  playing  this  baby's 
game  long  enough  now.  I  have  just  exactly  an  hour 
left.  How  about  making  it  a  regular  game  for  this 
last  hour,  with  the  sky  the  limit?" 

He  looked  around  half  defiantly  and  half  smil- 
ingly. For  a  few  minutes  there  was  no  answer.  It 
was  plainly  manifest  that  the  proposal  was  anything 
but  welcome  to  the  rest  of  us. 

"For  my  part,  Trainor,"  I  said  firmly,  "I  veto 
that  proposition — absolutely."  The  others  voiced 
their  approval. 

Trainor  discarded  his  half  smile  then,  and  be- 
came wholly  defiant. 

"Afraid,  hey?"  he  sneered.  "Just  like  you, 
Barnot;  a  quitter  from  the  ground  up.  Fine  way  to 
treat  a  man  after  he  has  been  losing  all  afternoon. 
Besides,  the  way  luck  has  been  running,  you  ought 
to  be  glad  of  the  chance  to  make  some  easy  money." 
"Trainor,"  I  said  good  humoredly,  "that  is  just 
where  you  make  your  mistake.  I  didn't  sit  down 
here  to  make  money.  This  is  not  a  gambling  pro- 
position with  me.  I  pay  a  few  dollars  to  have  a 
little  recreation  here,  just  as  I  would  buy  a  theatre 
ticket.  When  my  money  is  gone,  the  show  is  over 
with  me;  and  I  stop  satisfied.  If  I  happen  to  win, 
well — so  much  the  better." 

"That  sounds  good;"  he  snarled,  "but  you'd 
sing  a  different  tune,  if  you  were  in  my  place." 

"You  know,  Trainor,  you  are  not  telling  the 
truth;"  I  replied  quickly.  "You  know  that  before 
I  sit  down  to  a  game,  I  always  tell  you  just  how 
much  I  can  afford  to  pay  for  my  amusement,  and 
when  I  lose  that,  I  quit.     It  is  not  because  I  am 


afraid  of  losing  my  winnings  that  I  object  to  your 
proposal.  It  is  simply  the  principle  of  the  thing 
I'm  against.  It's  that  idea  of  'making  some  easy 
money,'  as  you  say — of  gambling,  I  call  it — which 
is  not  my  idea  of  a  gentleman's  recreation." 

My  antagonist  here  lost  control  of  his  temper. 
"I  may  not  be  what  you  consider  a  gentleman, 
Barnot,"  he  cried  hotly,  "but  at  any  rate  I  am  not 
a  quitter,  and  I  am  going  to  prove  that  you  are." 

With  that  he  pulled  from  his  coat  a  wallet 
and  a  pair  of  dice,  and  threw  them  on  the  table. 

"You  see  that  money,"  he  went  on,  "and  those 
dice !  Now  I'll  bet  you  ten  to  one  up  to  any  amount 
you  say,  that  I  will  roll  a  higher  number  than  you 
four  times  out  of  five.    Now  you — " 

■  At  this  moment  a  hand  clapped  Trainor  on  the 
shoulder  and  swinging  him  about,  he  found  himself 
looking  into  the  steady  eyes  of  Thomas  Jordan, 
President  of  our  K.  of  C.  Club.  He  had  come 
unnoticed  into  the  room  during  our  argument.  Jordan 
picked  up  the  wallet  and  dice  and  shoved  them  into 
the  pocket  of  Trainor's  overcoat  which  he  held. 
Then  he  threw  his  coat  and  hat  into  the  fellow's 
arms. 

"Trainor,"  said  he,  eyeing  the  man  sternly  and 
steadily,  "you  are  hardly  worth  talking  to.  You 
can't  understand  that  a  man  can  have  principles 
and  stick  to  them.  I  think  you  had  better  take 
your  dice  out  of  here." 

For  a  moment  I  thought  the  big  man  would 
strike  Jordan;  but  seeing  that  we  were  all  against 
him,  he  turned  suddenly  without  a  word,  and  the 
door  slammed  after  him. 

*  *  *  * 
^^^HERE  was  no  more  card  playing  that  evening. 
\)  We  settled  up  quickly  in  awkward  silence, 
and  filed  downstairs  into  the  smoking  room. 
It  was  just  "between  darkness  and  daylight,  when 
a  raw  November  night  was  beginning  to  lower;" 
and  the  bright  warmth  cast  by  a  blazing  log  fire 
here  was  cheeringly  welcome. 

We  gathered  about  it  instinctively,  still  silent; 
but  happily,  Jim  Toomey,  a  close  friend  of  Jordan, 
relieved  the  situation. 

"Say,  Tom,  old  boy,"  he  said  cheerily,  "you 
certainly  surprised  little  Jimmy  this  afternoon.     I 


-•4 


THE  1*  SIGN 


didn't  know  there  was  that  much  spunk  in  your 
whole  family." 

Jordan  smiled,  and  the  spell  hanging  upon  us 
was  broken. 

"I  knew  you  didn't  like  to  play  cards  yourself, 
M'  Lord  President,"  went  on  Toomey,  banteringly, 
"but  I  never  thought  you  were  against  others  play- 
ing.    Man  alive — " 

"I'm  not  against  others  playing,  Jim;"  cut  in 
Jordan,  "you  ought  to  know  that.  It  was  the  dice 
that  made  me  boil  over." 

"Ah!  ha!"  laughed  his  friend,  "I  guess  you 
and  Barnot  are  in  the  same  boat  there,  hey?" 

"Honestly,  Jim,"  replied  the  other,  "I'm  dead 
in  earnest  about  this.  I  would  tell  you  why;  but 
it  means  more  to  me  than  you  can  imagine.  Besides, 
you  wouldn't  believe  me  anyway." 

"He  certainly  has  a  fine  opinion  of  us,"  re- 
marked Toomey  dryly.  "But  you  can't  get  out  of 
it  that  way,  Tom.  You've  got  to  go  on  now;  you'll 
have  no  peace  if  you  don't.  Gentlemen!"  he  drolled 
out  solemnly,  "be  seated!" 

And  so,  laughing  we  drew  our  chairs  about  the 
fire  place. 

"Well,"  said  our  President,  taking  a  seat  nearest 
the  hearth,  "I  guess  Jim  wins  as  usual;  and,"  he 
said,  passing  a  box  of  cigars,  "to  make  a  good 
beginning  at  least,  let  us  light  up." 

"Fine!"  observed  Toomey  sagely,  "Best  begin- 
ning of  any  story  I  have  ever  heard." 

Gazing  with  a  far  away  look  into  the  fire, 
Jordan  began.  "You  may  have  wondered  at  times, 
why  I  never  play  cards.  I  have  often  told  you  that 
I  am  not  opposed  to  others  playing;  but  with  regard 
to  myself  personally,  it  is  much  the  same  as  with 
some  men  and  drink.  There  are  those,  you  know, 
who  can't  touch  liquor  without  losing  control  of 
themselves,  and  so  they  are  strict  teetotalers,  while 
at  the  same  time  they  do  not  at  all  begrudge  another 
man  his  glass  of  beer  or  light  wine.  I  heard  what 
Barnot  said  about  his  idea  of  card  playing;  and  I 
admire  him  for  it.  But  I  am  so  constituted,  that  it 
would  be  morally  impossible  for  me  to  do  as  he 
does.  I  am  forced,  so  to  speak,  to  be  a  card 
drunkard  or  an  absolute  prohibitionist,  although  I 
realize  that  others  can  be  temperance  players,  and  I 
respect  them  as  such." 

"Say!"  broke  in  Herman  Mueller,  a  stout  sober 
old  German,  "I  just  wish  you  could  go  to  Washing- 
ton, Tom,  and  tell  those  prohibitionist  fellows  down 
there,  where  they  get  off  at." 


We  all  knew  that  old  Mueller  sorely  missed 
his  glass  of  beer;  and  he  was  so  unaffectedly 
earnest  now  that  even  Jordan  had  to  laugh. 

"Thanks  for  the  compliment,  Herman,"  he  said, 
"I  guess  I  follow  my  dad  on  that  question.  He 
believed  in  the  old  motto:  'Live,  and  let  live.'  Dad 
was  alway  fond  of  a  friendly  game  of  cards,  and 
loved  to  have  me  play  with  him.  I  took  to  the  game 
at  once  too;  and  in  a  short  time,  I  became  quite 
an  expert  in  several  forms  of  play,  including  draw 
poker.  So  much  so,  indeed,  that  dad  began  to 
boast  to  his  friends  that  his  boy  could  beat  any  one 
of  them.  And  at  last  one  night,  when  they  came  to 
our  house  for  a  game,  as  they  did  periodically,  they 
prevailed  upon  him  to  let  me  'sit  in.'  " 

"You  talk  like  a  regular  player,"  remarked 
Toomey. 

"Just  wait  a  bit,"  said  Jordan,  with  a  smile, 
and  went  on  "I  can  never  forget  that  first  real  game 
of  mine.  I  can  feel  the  thrill  of  it  yet,  even  when 
I  watch  others  play.  From  the  beginning  I  was  as 
cool  as  a  veteran;  and  I  began  to  more  than  make 
good  my  dad's  prediction.  There  was  a  glamour 
about  the  whole  affair  that  was  irresistible.  The 
jovial  faces,  the  spirit  of  good  fellowship,  the  praises 
of  my  playing  combined  with  the  lure  of  the  game, 
the  feelings  of  mingled  suspense  and  exultation 
simply  overwhelmed  me.  When  the  party  broke  up 
in  the  'wee  sma'  hours,  and  I  found  myself  with 
spending  money  for  month  and  a  number  of  new 
friends  besides,  you  may  be  sure  I  needed  no  second 
invitation  to  the  next  game  at  another  house. 

"In  fact  from  that  time  on,  I  was  a  whole  souled 
gambler.  All  along  the  passion  had  been  growing 
unsuspected,  and  it  was  now  my  master.  Soon  I 
began  to  play  almost  every  night,  and  as  the  game 
that  suited  my  dad's  friends  became  too  tame  for 
me,  I  sought  and  found  other  congenial  fellows 
ready  to  satisfy  my  gambling  appetite  to  the  full." 

"And  I  always  thought  you  were  afraid  to 
play,"  muttered  the  astonished  Jim. 


u 


'ORDAN  only  smiled.  "But  don't  misunder- 
stand me,  gentlemen,"  he  added,  looking 
about  the  group,  "when  I  say  I  was  a  full 
fledged  gambler.  For  even  then  I  did  not  realize 
what  a  hold  the  game  had  upon  me.  You  see,  I 
told  myself  that  a  game  of  cards  was  my  only 
recreation;  and  as  I  was  usually  a  winner,  I  argued 
falsely  that  I  was  not  playing  beyond  my  means. 
And  so,  all   this  time   I  managed  to   keep   pretty 


THE  +  SIGN 


regularly  to  the  Sacraments  as  I  had  been  brought 
up  to  do.  At  home  no  one  even  suspected  my 
danger.  You  all  remember  my  wife;  and  you  will 
not  wonder  that  I  managed  to  stop  playing  for  a 
while  after  our  marriage.  But  with  her  death  the 
old  habit  broke  out  again,  and  before  long  I  was 
worse  than  ever.  And  now  our  crowd  was  so  far 
gone  that  cards  alone  did  not  satisfy  us.  We  had 
to  conclude  our  entertainment  every  night  by  throw- 
ing dice  for  an  hour  or  two." 

The  man  spoke  grimly  now,  and  even  Jim  was 
becoming  too  much  interested  to  break  in. 

"As  I  said  before,"  he  kept  on,  "I  can  appreciate 
a  friendly  game  of  cards  for  low  stakes  where  there 
is  sociability  and  a  chance  to  get  some  real  recrea- 
tion. But  there  seems  to  me  absolutely  no  reason 
for  dicing.  It  is  unworthy  of  a  man  and  fit  only 
for  the  gambling  den  and  the  back  lot.  There's 
no  skill  here,  no  friendly  rivalry,  nothing  but  an 
insane  gambling  fever,  a  hot  furious  debauch, 
mingled  with  invocations  of  the  gods  of  chance, 
accusations  of  one  another,  and  curses." 

HOR  the  second  time  that  day  Jordan  'boiled 
over,'  as  he  delivered  his  tirade  against  twirl- 
ing dice.  And  I  was  heartily  glad  that  I  had 
not  accepted  Trainor's  challenge  that  afternoon.  It 
was  only  with  a  noticeable  effort  that  he  regained 
his  wonted  composure,  and  then  went  on  more 
slowly. 

"You  remember,  I  said  that  I  had  been  fortunate 
for  a  while.  The  time  soon  came  when  my  luck 
turned,  and  I  began  to  get  into  debt.  It  is  remarka- 
ble how  quickly  money  won  in  gambling  will  dis- 
appear. It  seems  to  melt  away  like  the  poet's 
'snow  upon  the  desert's  dusty  face.'  At  home  now 
I  became  surly  and  peevish.  My  business  too  began 
to  suffer;  for  my  thoughts  during  the  day  were 
mainly  about  the  game  that  night.  Heaven  alone 
knows  what  eventually  would  have  happened  but 
for  the  incident  I  am  now  going  to  tell  you." 

At  this  moment  I  stole  a  glance  at  Toomey. 
He  was  sitting  motionless,  his  eyes  fixed  on  Jordan, 
the  hand  holding  his  cigar  raised  half  way  to  his 
mouth.  He  must  have  been  that  way  several 
minutes,  for  the  cigar  had  quite  gone  out.  I  had  a 
good  smile  all  to  myself  as  the  story  went  on. 

"One  night  we  had  thrown  dice  a  much  longer 
time  than  usual.  In  our  party  then  was  a  fine  young 
fellow,  who,  like  myself  was  gradually  going  to  the 


dogs.  You  would  never  guess  his  name,  so  I'll  tell 
it  to  you  at  once — Joe  Morton." 

"You  don't  mean  our  Joe,"  exclaimed  Toomey, 
"you  can't." 

"The  very  same,"  replied  Jordan,  "the  late 
second  lieutenant,  Joseph  Morton,  killed  in  action 
at  Chateau  Thierry.  You  see,  gentlemen,  I  knew 
him  long  before  you  did,  when  he  was  just  a  lad 
and  .a  bit  wild.  At  that  time  his  old  father  was 
living  and  depending  on  him;  and  as  Joe  and  I  were 
pals,  I  often  tried  to  get  him  to  stop  gambling  with 
us.  But  the  boy  always  replied  that  he  would  quit 
only  when  I  did.  Both  of  us,  indeed,  wanted  to 
break  off  badly;  but  we  had  that  false  pride,  which 
fears  the  accusation  of  quitter — the  very  accusation 
you  gave  the  lie  to  this  afternoon,"  he  added,  look- 
ing straight  at  me. 

I  had  to  smoke  fiercely  to  hide  my  embarrass- 
ment;  but  luckily  he  continued  with  his  story. 

"On  this  particular  night,  Joe  had  lost  heavily. 
To  make  matters  worse,  it  was  all  coming  my  way. 
I  never  felt  so  low  down  mean  in  my  life,  for  I 
knew  how  badly  off  the  lad  was.  But  I  couldn't 
think  of  offering  sympathy  at  that  time  and  place. 
So  we  kept  on  rolling  the  dice  until  my  pal  was 
cleaned  out  to  the  last  penny." 

"Joe,"  he  went  on,  "was,  as  you  know,  always 
game  to  the  core.  And  he  only  laughed  as  if  it  were 
all  a  good  joke.  Finally  he  took  a  bit  of  paste- 
board from  his  pocket  and  threw  it  on  the  table. 
I  saw  it  was  a  pawn  ticket." 

"There,  Tom,"  he  said,  with  an  effort  at  gaiety, 
"that's  for  some  luxury  I  don't  need  at  all,  so  just 
roll  me  for  it." 

"I  hesitated  a  moment.  There  was  however 
nothing  to  do  but  to  shake  the  dice  and  let  them  fly. 
But  I  knew,  even  before  they  stopped  rolling,  that 
the  ticket  was  mine.  With  that,  the  party  broke 
up;  and  stuffing  my  winnings  into  my  pockets  I 
hurried  out.  You  may  well  believe  that  I  didn't 
have  the  heart  to  speak  to  Joe,  nor  even  to  look  at 
him. 

When  I  got  home,  it  was  early  morning.  In  the 
gray  half  light  of  my  bedroom,  I  emptied  my 
pockets.  I  knew  what  I  really  wanted  to  look  at 
was  the  bit  of  card-board.  I  took  it  over  to  the 
window,  and  there  I  saw  that  Joe's  "luxury"  was  a 
suit  of  clothes.  I  remembered  then  that  he  had  been 
wearing  an  old  shabby  outfit  lately;  and  my  face 
burned.      'Something    he    didn't    need    at    all,'    I 


THE  1*  SIGN 


repeated  bitterly.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I 
was  sick  with  a  wholesome  loathing  of  myself  and 
with  everything  connected  with  gambling." 

Outside  the  circle  of  firelight,  the  room  was  now 
in  complete  darkness.  I  glanced  around.  In  the 
bright  flare  of  the  flames,  every  face  stood  out  clear 
cut;  and  I  noticed  that  all  eyes  were  fixed  intently 
on  the  story  teller,  as  he  spoke  now  with  evident 
feeling. 

"Exhausted  in  mind  and  body,  I  thought  to 
throw  myself  upon  my  bed  for  a  few  hours  dressed 
as  I  was.  But  instinctively  I  dropped  by  it  on  my 
knees.  For  strangely  enough,  I  had  all  these  years 
kept  to  a  pious  practice  taught  me  by  my  mother, 
God  rest  her,  of  kissing  my  little  pocket  crucifix, 
a  keepsake  of  her's,  before  getting  into  bed.  So, 
as  I  knelt  mechanically,  I  took  the  crucifix  from 
my  coat  and  pressed  it  to  my  lips.  As  I  did  so,  a 
depressing  sense  of  guilt  crept  over  me.  The  naked 
feet  seemed  very  cold.  I  couldn't  take  the  crucifix 
from  my  lips.  And  kneeling  thus,  I  buried  my  hot 
face  in  the  pillow." 


*" — JORDAN  paused  a  moment.  There  was  a 
\Y-  suspicion  of  a  catch  in  his  voice.  Obviously 
he  was  measuring  every  word. 

"I  know  now,"  he  continued,  "that  I  must  have 
dozed  off.  For  it  seemed  to  me,  that  I  was  still 
playing  with  dice.  But  now  my  fellow  gamblers 
were  complete  strangers.  They  were  all  dressed  as 
I  remembered  to  have  seen  some  Roman  soldiers 
in  my  old  Latin  school  book  of  'Caesar's  Gallic 
Wars.'  And  I  was  dressed  like  them,  with  short 
tunic,  breastplate  and  helmet,  bare  kneed,  and 
sandals  on  my  feet. 

There  were  four  of  us;  and  we  were  intensely 
absorbed  in  our  game,  swearing  in  our  excitement 
and  calling  on  the  old  pagan  gods  of  Rome. 

At  last  my  turn  came.  With  a  shout  to  Jove,  I 
seized  the  dice  and  rolled  the  highest  number  pos- 
sible. 

"By  Hercules!"  one  powerful  fellow  snarled, 
"the  dog  wins  the  prize." 


And  reaching  back,  he  picked  up  something 
that  lay  behind  him  and  flung  it  in  my  face.  It 
dropped  into  my  arms,  and  I  saw  that  it  was  a  suit 
of  clothes. 

Joe's  suit!  I  thought  at  once.  But  then,  sud- 
denly it  changed  from  a  blue  suit  of  modern  make 
into  a  long  white  robe.  And  as  I  gazed  wonderingly, 
everything  else  was  crowded  out  of  my  mind  by  a 
voice,  soft,  yet  clearer  and  sweeter  than  any  other 
voice  I  had  ever  heard,  almost  directly  above  my 
head. 

"Thomas!"  it  said,  "What  thou  dost  to  the 
least  of  my  brethren,  thou  dost  unto  Me." 

"Terrified,  I  looked  up." 

Jordan's  voice  was  husky,  and  his  words  came 
with   difficulty. 

"Above  me  was  a  Man,  all  naked  but  for  a  loin 
cloth.  He  was  hanging  outstretched  upon  a  cross. 
At  His  feet,  almost  by  my  side,  stood  a  Woman 
weeping.  As  I  knelt  there,  with  the  dice  in  one 
hand  and  the  long  white  garment  in  the  other,  I 
was  painfully  aware  that  they  were  looking  intently 
at  me. 

I  thought  we  stayed  that  way  an  endless  time. 
I  could  neither  move  nor  speak.  I  was  conscious 
that  my  knees  were  aching  sorely.  I  felt  a  cold  wind 
blowing  upon  me.  It  penetrated  to  the  marrow  of 
my  bones.  Yet  I  dared  not  use  the  robe  to  protect 
myself.  I  tried  to  lift  it  up  to  the  naked  Figure. 
I  could  not.  It  was  like  a  mass  of  lead.  I  cried  to 
my  former  companions,  but,  with  a  look  of  horror, 
they  fled  into  the  darkness. 

Again  I  struggled  desperately  to  lift  up  the 
robe.  When  at  length  it  seemed  that  I  was  about 
to  succeed,  the  Figure  faded  before  me.  I  cried  out 
in  frenzied  anguish  that  I  would  yet  return  the  robe 
though  it  cost  my  blood.  Then  suddenly  I  found 
myself  kneeling  by  my  bed,  bathed  in  a  cold  sweat, 
my  crucifix  on  the  pillow,  the  fresh  morning  air 
blowing  in  upon  me  through  the  open  window." 
*     *     *     * 

Jordan  leaned  forward  in  the  firelight.  His 
pallid  face  was  drawn.  The  soft  crackling  logs 
sounded  clear  in  the  silence. 


Tke  Wkite  Rose  of  Lucca 

Tke  Storp  of  Gemma  Galgani 

MATTHEW   KUEBEL 
6 — Resignation    and  Tears — (continued) 


© 


UT  independently  of  these  revelations 
Gemma  yearned  to  become  a  Passionist 
nun  because  that  life  was  her  ideal.  The 
l'ong  hours  of  prayer  and  meditation  at  the 
feet  of  the  Crucified;  the  severely  penitential  rule 
of  life;  the  strict  separation  from  the  world  by  the 
Papal  cloister,  and  at  the  same  time  the  occasional 
occupations  in  works  of  zeal  such  as  the  teaching  of 
catechism  to  children  at  the  grille  and  the  conducting 
of  retreats  for  women  within  the  enclosure — all  this 
had  a  strong  appeal  for  a  zealous  and  ardent  spirit 
like  Gemma. 

Gemma  had  hoped  that  the  course  of  spiritual 
exercises  which  she,  together  with  three  companions, 
had  decided  to  make  at  the  Passionist  Convent  in 
Corneto,  would  be  the  first  step  in  her  flight  from  the 
world.  Much  to  Gemma's  surprise  and  to  the  regret 
of  all  her  friends  her  application  to  be  permitted  to 
make  the  retreat  was  refused,  although  the  other 
three  young  women  received  a  more  favorable 
answer.  Evidently,  the  good  Superior  had  heard  a 
great  deal  about  Gemma  that  was  not  at  all  in  her 
favor  and  was  convinced  that  Gemma  was  one  of 
those  deluded  hysterical  creatures  who  do  not  do 
well  in  convents.  This  repulse  did  not  dishearten 
Gemma,  much  less  embitter  her  against  the  nuns; 
instead  she  defended  with  characteristic  sweetness 
the  Mother  Superior  against  others'  loud  expressions 
of  chagrin. 

Just  at  this  time  the  establishing  of  a  convent 
of  Passionist  nuns  in  Lucca  began  to  be  mooted,  and, 
of  course,  one  of  the  most  zealous  patrons  and  pro- 
moters of  the  good  cause  was  Gemma  herself. 
Gemma's  zeal  in  the  matter  was  probably  the  result 
of  revelations  she  had  received  long  before  about 
the  future  convent,  of  which  as  far  back  as  1900 
she  was  able  to  give  a  long  description  in  a  letter 
to  Father  Germanus  shortly  before  the  eminent 
priest  became  her  spiritual  guide. .  Now  again  Our 
Lord  spoke  to  her  about  the  good  work,  and  His 
words  had  the  effect  of  moving  her  to  throw  all  her 
energies   into   it.     "How   often,"   the   Savior   said, 


"how  often  have  I  not  withheld  My  Father's  anger, 
by  presenting  to  Him  a  group  of  loved  souls  and 

generous  victims They  are  the  daughters  of 

My  Passion;    but  they  are  few  and  cannot  suffice 

for  everything Write   at  once  to  thy  Father 

(Fr.  Germanus) ;  tell  him  to  go  to  Rome  and  speak 
to  the  Pope  of  this  desirable  work :  let  him  say  that 
a  great  chastisement  is  threatened  and  victims  are 
needed."  At  other  times  our  Lord  gave  Gemma  to 
understand  that  her  becoming  a  Passionist  nun 
was  dependent  upon  the  establishing  of  a  Passionist 
convent  in  Lucca. 

Stimulated  by  this  double  motive — the  glory  of 
God  and  her  own  spiritual  interests — Gemma  took  a 
personal,  energetic,  and  almost  a  principal  part  in 
the  effort  to  get  the  work  fairly  started.  She  wrote 
innumerable  letters  filled  with  earnest  pleading  to 
this  person  and  to  that  whose  active  interest  was 
more  or  less  indispensable,  to  arouse  their  serious 
effort,  to  allay  their  fears,  to  chide  the  backwardness 
dictated  by  too  much  human  prudence.  "Jesus 
wishes  it,"  she  would  say,  "and  what  Jesus  wills 
must  succeed."  "Decide  at  once,"  she  wrote  to  her 
Director,  "for  very  soon  it  will  be  too  late.  Jesus 
will  not  wait  any  longer;  and  He  has  said  to  me 
that  He  will  take  me  to  Himself  if  within  six 
months  the  work  is  not  begun."  But  Gemma  did 
not  stop  at  mere  words.  Unweariedly  she  went 
hither  and  thither  in  Lucca,  interesting  in  the  work 
all  she  could,  collecting  money,  and  seeking  a  suit- 
able location  or  building — any  property  which  there 
was  the  remotest  possibility  of  acquiring  for  the 
Passionist  Sisters — in  order  that  without  delay  the 
way  might  be  opened  for  the  coming  of  the  little 
band  of  nuns  from  Corneto. 

It  is  necessary  to  state  only  that  Gemma's 
efforts  for  the  founding  of  the  convent  had  no  results 
during  her  own  lifetime.  Our  Divine  Lord's  condi- 
tions— that  the  work  be  started  within  a  given  time 
— was  not  fulfilled,  for  month  after  month  had 
slipped  by  and  nothing  had  been  done.  Therefore, 
Our  Lord  told  Gemma  that  it  was  too  late ;   that  she 


28 


THE  1*  SIGN 


must  not  think  anymore  of  becoming  a  nun,  and 
that  she  must  be  resigned.  Then  (she  tells  us),  "I 
ran  away  to  my  room  to  be  more  free  there  and 
alone,  and  I  cried  a  great  deal.  At  last  I  exclaimed : 
'Thy  Will  be  done.'  But  those  tears  were  not  of 
grief;   they  were  tears  of  perfect  resignation." 

ONLY  after  Gemma's  death  were  energetic 
measures  employed  to  found  the  convent, 
when  quite  smoothly,  or  at  least  with  no  more 
than  the  usual  share  of  opposition  and  difficulty, 
the  work  quickly  progressed  by  ways  and  means 
that  Gemma  had  foretold;  so  that  within  two  years 
the  Passionist  Nuns  were  established  in  Lucca.  No 
doubt  some  day  another  interesting  prophecy  of 
Gemma's  will  be  fulfilled.  "The  Passionist  nuns," 
she  once  said,  "have  not  wished  to  receive  me,  and 
for  all  that  I  wish  to  be  with  them,  and  shall  be  so 
when  I  am  dead."  If  Holy  Church  makes  a  favor- 
able pronouncement  on  Gemma's  sanctity,  the  an- 
gelic girl  will  have  the  consolation  of  being  with  the 
r.uns,  who  will  then  be  able  to  tell  that  the  true 
patron  and  foundress  of  their  convent  in  Lucca  is 
the  sweet  virgin,  Gemma  Galgani. 

Gemma  never  realized  her  ambition  of  becom- 
ing a  nun,  but  she  did  acquire  a  degree  of  sanctity 
more  sublime  than  the  religious  life  ordinarily 
aspires  to  or  contemplates.  By  a  life-long  union 
with  Jesus  Crucified  and  by  a  miraculous  conformity 
with  His  image  Gemma  had  become  a  child  of  the 
Passion.  She  was  now  ripe  for  Heaven;  God  had 
said  to  her,  'Behold  I  come  quickly,'  and  it  only 
remained  for  her  to  prepare  for  the  coming  of  her 
Lord. 

On  the  feast  of  Pentecost,  1902,  God  revealed 
to  His  faithful  serveant  during  an  ecstacy  her  voca- 
tion of  expiating  during  the  year  of  life  that 
remained  to  her  the  sins  of  unfaithful  Christians,  and 
Gemma  with  characteristic  generosity  acquiesced  in 
God's  designs.  Immediately  after  this  she  fell 
gravely  ill  and  remained  in  a  most  critical  condition 
for  two  months.  Thereupon  Father  Germanus  wrote 
to  her  and  commanded  her  to  ask  God  for  her  cure. 
Gemma  obeyed,  not  without  great  pain;  and  Our 
Divine  Lord  signified  to  her  that  she  would  recover, 
but  that  she  would  be  well  only  for  a  short  time. 
Instantly  Gemma  was  well  again,  and  within  one 
week  she  regained  her  full  strength,  and  her  com- 
plexion resumed  its  former  freshness  and  beauty. 

But  God's  Will  had  to  be  fulfilled,  so  that  on  the 
9th  of  September,  after  a  respite  of  twenty  days, 


Gemma  again  fell  dangerously  ill.  Before  very  long 
she  was  reduced  to  a  most  pitiable  condition,  and 
the  members  of  the  household  wrote  in  great  alarm 
to  her  Director:  "Gemma  is  very  ill;  she  is  reduced 
to  skin  and  bone;  she  suffers  excruciating  torments 
and  internal  pains  that  terrify. ..  .Gemma  feels 
great  need  of  you.  Come  quickly  to  tell  us  how  to 
act." 

^^^HE  devoted  Director  answered  this  call  for 
V/  J  assistance  without  delay,  and  his  presence 
at  the  bed-side  of  his  saintly  spiritual  child 
was  a  great  consolation  to  her.  He  allowed  her  to 
renew  her  general  confession  from  which,  at  this 
eleventh  hour  of  her  life,  he  again  received  the 
assurance  that  Gemma  had  never  committed  the 
least  fully  deliberate  sin,  and  that  she  would  take 
undefiled  to  Heaven  her  baptismal  innocence.  Re- 
maining with  her  several  days,  he  prepared  her  for 
the  reception  of  the  Holy  Viaticum  and  administered 
to  her  the  comfort  of  his  holy  counsels.  After 
several  days  had  elapsed  without  any  change  in  her 
condition,  Gemma  said  to  her  spiritual  Father: 
"Father,  if  you  wish  you  may  go.... This  illness 
will  certainly  finish  me,  but  not  yet;  at  least  that  is 
what  Jesus  had  told  me."  Then  Father  Germanus 
blessed  Gemma  and  returned  home,  not  dreaming 
that  he  looked  upon  her  for  the  last  time. 

But  before  the  happy  release  of  death  would 
come,  Gemma  had  many  obediences  to  fulfill — many 
long  months  of  agonizing  suffering;  she  must  first 
be  crucified  in  body  and  soul  as  never  before,  and 
step  by  step  God  prepared  the  instruments  of  her 
immolation.  Gemma  must  give  up  a  happy  home, 
those  dear  ones  whom  she  had  learned  to  love  as 
kith  and  kin,  in  order  to  be  alone,  to  suffer  alone, 
to  be  crucified  alone  with  Jesus.  The  advice  of  the 
Physicians  and  of  Father  Germanus  that  Gemma  be 
segregated  from  the  rest  of  the  family,  for  a  long 
time  was  not  heeded.  The  Gianninis  were  most 
reluctant  to  part  with  one  whom  they  regarded  as 
the  Guardian  Angel  of  their  home.  But  at  length 
more  prudent  counsel  prevailed,  and  Gemma  was 
removed  to  a  house  across  the  street.  The  thought 
that  she  would  be  near  those  whom  she  loved  so 
dearly  was  some  consolation  to  Gemma  in  the  sorrow 
she  felt  in  the  separation. 

For  a  while  the  afflicted  girl  had  one  consola- 
tion— that  of  painfully  making  her  way  every  morn- 
ing to  a  nearby  Church  to  hear  Mass  and  to  receive 
Holy  Communion.     But  high  fever  quickly  set  in 


THE  1*  SIGN 


and  Gemma  was  unable  to  leave  her  bed  any  more. 
Thereafter  the  ravages  of  her  malady  were  rapid  and 
terrifying.  The  words  of  one  of  her  attendants 
describe  quite  graphically  the  pitiable  condition  to 
which  before  long  Gemma  was  reduced.  "Poor 
victim,"  the  lady  wrote  to  Father  Germanus,  "she 
suffers  without  cessation,  and  feels  as  if  her  bones 
were  being  disjointed.  It  is  evident  that  she  is 
tortured  in  every  part  of  her  body  and  is  being 
dissolved  in  hopeless  agony.  For  the  last  twenty 
days  she  has  lost  her  sight;  her  voice  has  become 
so  weak  that  she  can  scarcely  articulate,  so  that  it 
is  almost  impossible  to  catch  what  she  says;  she  is 
a  living  skeleton  that  seems  to  waste  more  and  more, 
and  to  see  her  is  to  be  filled  with  pain  and  dismay." 
"First  the  body  and  then  the  soul,"  Gemma 
had  said  in  declaring  her  willingness  to  bear  the  full 
weight,  if  possible,  of  the  Savior's  pains.  Her  frail 
body  was  fixed  to  the  cross;  now  she  was  to  be 
crucified  in  her  soul.  All  those  Heavenly  privileges 
and  sublime  graces — her  familiar  colloquies  face 
to  face  with  Jesus  and  Mary,  the  abiding  visible 
presence  of  her  Guardian  Angel,  all  those  sweet 
raptures  and  ecstatic  contemplations — were  with- 
drawn; a  thick  veil  of  darkness  had  intervened 
between  Heaven  and  her  pure  soul;  all  Heaven 
seemed  to  have  forgotten  one  who  had  lived  her 
whole  life  only  for  God  and  Holy  things.  This 
crushing  weight  of  darkness  was  the  instrument  of 
unspeakable  pain. 


© 


^T  who  can  tell  the  immense  anguish  caused 
this  pure  soul  by  the  relentlessly  violent  per- 
secutions of  the  fiend!  None  but  he  could 
have  been  the  author  of  those  strange  and  repulsive 
phantasms  filling  Gemma's  mind  with  all  manner  of 
anxiety,  sadness,  and  fear.  What  else  but  Satanic 
insolence  could  have  suggested  that  all  this  spiritual 
and  physical  misery  was  God's  characteristic  way  of 
rewarding  life-long  fidelity  in  His  service?  Then 
with  strange  inconsistency  the  devil  would  make 
capital  of  her  profound  spiritual  desolation  and 
endeavor  to  persuade  her  that  she  would  certainly 
be  lost  because  of  her  hypocrisy  and  deceit,  of  which 
her  confessors  were  the  principal  dupes.  This 
temptation  was  so  sadly  effective  that  Gemma,  re- 
solving to  be  saved  at  any  cost,  wrote  a  history  of 
her  whole  life,  an  account  in  which  she  made  herself 
out  to  be  guilty  of  the  greatest  sins.  Sending  this 
confession  to  a  priest  who  was  well  acquainted  with 
her,  Gemma  asked  him  to  come  and  absolve  her 


from  all  her  sins.  The  priest  came  and  reassured 
her,  and  thereafter  she  enjoyed  a  respite  of  peace. 

But  Satan,  knowing  that  his  time  was  short, 
would  not  be  stayed;  if  such  eminent  virtue  could 
not  be  shaken,  the  possessor  of  it  at  least  must  be 
made  to  feel  the  full  force  of  his  malicious  hatred. 
In  an  endless  variety  of  ways  he  sought,  and  was 
only  too  successful  in  the  effort,  to  torment  the  poor 
invalid.  The  words  of  an  attendant  at  the  sick-bed 
vouch  for  the  reality  of  these  assaults.  "That 
abominable  beast,"  the  lady  wrote,  "will  be  the  end 
of  our  dear  Gemma — deafening  blows,  forms  of 
ferocious  animals,  etc.  I  came  away  from  her  in 
tears  because  the  devil  is  wearing  her  out  and  there 

is  no  remedy  for  it We  help  her  by  sprinkling 

holy  water  in  her  room;  then  the  disturbance  ceases 
'only  to  begin  again  worse  than  before." 

During  all  these  sufferings  and  conflicts  Gemma 
was  engaged  in  uninterrupted  converse  with  Heaven 
— the  many  prayers  she  uttered  aloud,  showed  how 
the  faith  and  love  and  hopeful  trust  of  the  saintly 
sufferer  rode  triumphant  over  the  billows  of  the 
storm.  "Dost  thou  not  know,  Jesus,"  she  would  say, 
"that  I  am  all  thine?  Yes;  all  thine.  . .  .Suffering, 
yes;  but  I  wish  to  go  to  Paradise  to  Thee."  Then 
turning  in  spirit  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  she  would 
say:  "Mother,  my  own  Mother,  you  must  tell  Jesus 
I  will  keep  my  word  to  Him,  that  I  will  be  faithful 
to  Him." 

In  fact  all  those  beautiful  qualities  and  virtues 
for  which  she  had  been  so  much  revered  and  so 
dearly  loved,  shone  with  new  splendor  on  her  bed 
of  pain.  Her  patience,  her  unconcern  amid  need 
and  discomfort,  the  sweetness  and  cheerfulness 
which  always  .distinguished  her  did  not  abandon 
her  now  that  she  was  enduring  pains  so  great  that 
as  some  one  said,  "it  would  almost  appear  that  one 
could  not  suffer  more  even  in  Purgatory."  But  what 
most  edified  people  who  saw  her  was  her  great 
humility.  After  a  life  of  blameless  innocence  and 
wonderful  virtues,  her  constant  prayer  was,  "My 

Jesus  Mercy!"    "O  Jesus,  oh  how  many  sins! 

But  thy  Mercy  is  infinite.  Thou  has  pardoned  me 
so  many  times,  0  forgive  me  now  once  more!" 

So  the  poor  victim  of  Divine  Love  and  Justice 
dragged  on  a  weary  afflicted,  and  blameless  life  on 
a  bed  of  pain  for  six  long  months.  Prayer,  conflict, 
suffering  was  all  that  life  meant  to  Gemma  as  the 
Holy  Week  of  1903  drew  near— that  week  during 
which  all  that  remained  to  her  of  Christ's  sacrifice 
was  to  be  offered. 


30 


THE  1*  SIGN 


ON  Wednesday  of  Holy  Week  Gemma  received 
the  Viaticum,  and  on  the  following  day,  Holy 
Thursday,  she  communicated  again.  She 
made  her  thanksgiving  with  her  customary  fervor, 
when  the  spiritual  darkness  in  which  she  was 
enveloped  was  momentarily  lifted;  Gemma  went 
into  an  ecstacy  during  which  she  was  heard  to  say: 
"Before  thou  art  finished,  oh  how  much  has  to  be 
gone  through!"  Later  on  she  said  to  one  of  the 
nursing  Sisters:  "What  a  day  tomorrow  (Good 
Friday)  will  be!" 

When  on  Good  Friday  morning  a  Lady  who  had 
been  watching  with  Gemma  through  the  long  hours 
of  the  night  signified  her  intention  of  leaving  for  a 
short  rest,  Gemma  said:  "Don't  leave  me  until  I 
am  nailed  to  the  cross.  I  have  to  be  crucified  with 
Jesus.  He  has  said  to  me  that  His  children  have  to 
be  crucified."  Soon  after  the  saintly  invalid  again 
went  into  ecstacy,  when  she  stretched  out  her  arms 
in  the  form  of  a  cross  and  remained  that  way  for 
several  hours.  And  what  a  strange  ecstacy  it  was! 
Her  sweet  face,  still  beautiful  after  the  ravages  of 
disease,  was  not  lit  up  as  hitherto  with  a  heavenly 
light  indicative  of  the  unspeakable  joy  pouring  into 
the  (soul.  Rather  her  face  was  a  picture  of  pain, 
anguish,  desolation; — all  the  sorrows  of  Jesus  were 
engulfing  Gemma's  soul.  No  wonder  that  the  eyes 
of  all  were  riveted  upon  that  blessed  countenance! 
What  better  picture  of  Christ  Crucified  could  have 
been  desired!  Gemma  remained  in  all  the  agony 
of  death  until  Holy  Saturday  morning,  when 
Extreme  Unction  was  administered. 

Thus  crucified  in  body  by  the  ravages  of  disease, 
crucified  in  soul  by  immeasurable  anguish,  deprived 
of  all  spiritual  comfort  by  the  absence  of  her 
spiritual  advisors,  who  best  knew  how  to  console 
her,  well  could  the  holy  victim  raise  her  feeble 
voice  and  exclaim:  "Now  it  is  indeed  true  that 
nothing  more  remains  to  me ...  .  Jesus.  I  recom- 
mend my  poor  soul  to  Thee,  Jesus!"  These  were 
Gemma's  last  words. 

A  half  hour  passed,  during  which  Gemma  is 
seated  on  her  bed,  with  her  head  resting  on  the 
shoulder  of  her  adopted  mother.  The  kind  friends 
who  had  assisted  her  all  along  are  gathered  around 
and  deep  is  the  conviction  of  all  that  they  are 
gathered  at  the  death-bed  of  a  saint.  Gemma  is 
absorbed  in  silent  thought,  when  suddendly  as  all 
eyes  are  fixed  on  her  angelic  face,  she  sweetly 
smiled,  inclined  her  head  to  one  side  and  ceased 
to  live.     There  was  no  specific  agony,  no  muscular 


strain;  that  death  was  but  a  sweet  sleep  in  the  arms 
of  the  Heavenly  Spouse.  Gemma  died  at  one 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  Holy  Saturday,  the  11th 
of  April,  1903.  "What  a  beautiful  thing,"  Gemma 
used  to  say,  "to  die  on  a  great  solemnity."  But 
what  could  have  been  more  beautiful  even  in  her 
eyes,  than  to  die  on  Holy  Saturday,  after  having 
kept  Good  Friday  as  she  did  in  company  with  Jesus 
suffering. 

Gemma's  longing  to  become  a  Passionist  nun 
was  well-known,  and  therefore,  after  her  death,  the 
body  was  clothed  in  black  with  the  Passionist  badge 
upon  her  breast.  A  crown  of  flowers  was  placed 
upon  her  head;  her  hands  were  joined  just  as  she 
used  to  hold  them  while  in  ecstacy.  The  charming 
smile  with  which  she  breathed  her  last  remained, 
and  the  sainted  corpse  bespoke  an  indescribable 
peace  and  seemed  clothed  in  a  heavenly  beauty. 

QEOPLE  came  in  great  numbers  to  view  the 
body,  and  took  occasion  to  touch  it  with 
rosaries  or  other  articles  of  devotion,  or  to 
obtain  some  little  token  afterwards  to  be  treasured 
as  a  precious  relic.  Priests  who  knew  Gemma 
came  to  her  room  and  knelt  a  long  time  in  prayer. 
"I  feel  that  I  am  in  a  sanctuary,"  one  priest  said.  .  .  . 
"How  well  one  can  pray  here.  .  .  .Blessed  Gemma, 
who  knew  how  to  live  like  an  angel  and  die  a 
saint." 

In  the  late  afternoon  of  Easter  Sunday  the  body 
was  removed  to  the  cemetery.  There  was  a  large 
gathering  of  townspeople  and  the  funeral  cortege — 
ordinarily  a  strange  contrast  to  the  joy  of  Easter — 
seemed  really  like  a  festive  celebration.  How 
could  it  be  otherwise;  this  was  the  occasion  of 
Gemma's  flight  to  Heaven  in  company  with  her 
Risen  Lord! 

The  hallowed  remains  were  placed  in  a  privi- 
leged tomb  under  the  colonnade  of  the  cemetery. 
A  marble  statue  of  an  angel  and  the  inscription  on 
a  marble  slab  mark  the  spot  where  Gemma  rests 
in  peace.    Thus  reads  her  epitaph: 

"Gemma  Galgani  of  Lucca  a  most  innocent 
virgin,  who  in  her  twenty-fifth  year,  con- 
sumed rather  by  the  fire  of  Divine  Love 
than  by  the  violence  of  disease,  flew  into 
the  arms  of  her  Heavenly  spouse  on  Holy 
Saturday  the  11th  of  April,  1903.  Peace 
be  to  thee,  0  sweet  soul,  in  company  with 
the  angels!" 

(The  End) 


Tke   Passion   of  Christ  in   Symbols 


Hubert  Cunningham,  C.  P. 


OEV0TI0N  to  the  sacred  Passion  of  Our 
Lord  and  Saviour,  Jesus  Christ  reaches 
back  to  the  beginning  of  Christianity.  All 
other  devotions  compared  to  it  are  recent: 
they  flow  from  this  as  from  their  source  for  love 
of  Jesus  Crucified  is  the  fountain  of  all  Catholic 
piety.  Moreover,  this  wonderful  love  of  the  early 
Christians  was  never  an  elusive  generality  or  vague 
sentiment;  it  was  always  a  solid  and  substantial 
reality  as  all  genuine  devotion  ever  is  and  ever  must 
be.  That  is  why  it  twined  itself  around  the  cross  and 
stood  out  bold,  practical,  particular  and  as  a  public 
fact  before  the  whole  world  of  friend  and  foe. 
But  a  time  came  when  prudence  dictated  another 
course  and  christian  faith  took  refuge  behind  the 
merciful  devisement  of  holy  disguise.  In  this  ar- 
ticle we  shall  follow  our  subject  thither  and  study 
early  christian  devotion  to  the  Passion  as  this  is 
revealed   in   symbols. 

We  know  the  recklessness  of  love  and  above 
all  of  holy  love.  It  wants  to  be  known ;  it  cannot  be 
held  down.  We  also  know  that  devotion  to  Jesus 
Christ  Crucified  means  nothing  but  love  and  love 
for  the  most  reckless  Lover  that  ever  thrilled  the 
human  bosom  and  that  is  the  simple  reason  why 
the  holy  unction  of  our  forefathers  in  the  faith  was 
reckless;  it  was  fierce,  fearless  and  so  even  in 
peril  of  life  their  beloved  cross  was  defiantly  flaun- 
ted before  the  world.  It  was  this  open,  constant 
and  daring  display  of  the  sign  of  Christ,  its  conquer- 
ing march  through  the  Roman  Empire,  its  rapid 
spread  through  every  strata  of  the  social  life, 
its  discovery  among  the  consuls  and  the  captains, 
the  soldiers  and  the  slaves,  its  evidence  among  the 
senators  and  the  civilians,  its  worship  by  the  digni- 
fied matrons  and  the  timid  little  children;  this  was 
the  spectacle  that  goaded  the  deep  hatred  of  the 
defeated  Jew,  that  excited  the  jealousy  of  the  pagan, 
that  roused  the  suspicious  fears  of  the  statesman  till 
all  these  inimical  elements  combined  their  forces  in 
violent  opposition  and  persecuted  the  cross  with 
relentless  fury. 

Prudently,   gradually   these   open    displays   of 


their  beloved  emblem  by  the  hated  christians  ceased. 
Even  more,  for  the  sake  of  holy  reverence  all  sacred 
objects — sacred  rites,  ceremonies,  duties,  practices 
and  teachings — were  witheld  from  the  knowledge 
and  even  the  observation  of  the  heathen  world  to 
guard  these  divine  things  from  misrepresentation 
and  desecration  by  the  wild  passions  of  the  time. 
These  teachings  and  practices  were  but  slowly  and 
carefully  divulged  even  to  the  newmade  converts 
and  catechumens  lest  these  might  be  carried  by  their 
enthusiasm,  as  thousands  before  them  had  been,  to 
exceed  the  bounds  of  discretion.  The  prudent  retire- 
ment here  indicated  steadily  grew  till  it  ultimately 
became  general  and  a  law  of  the  church,  called  the 
discipline/,  arcani  or  the  duty  of  secrecy. 

As  time  progressed  this  law  grew  more  and 
more  severe  till  nothing  whatever  of  importance  in 
teaching  or  practice  appeared  without  but  always 
under  the  disguise  of  signs  and  symbols.  Bishop 
McDonald  goes  as  far  as  to  say  that  in  some  parts 
of  the  world  it  was  forbidden  to  even  so  much  as 
commit  to  writing  such  fundamental  and  sacred 
matters  as  the  creeds,  the  forms  and  ceremonies, 
for  fear  that  these  might  reach  the  hands  of  the 
enemy;  instead  all  these  sacred  matters  were  handed 
down  merely  by  word  of  mouth  and  retained  only 
by  memory.  For  those  zealous  souls  the  law  of 
secrecy  was  a  severe  restraint.  But  the  years  were 
hard;  hatred  was  rampant  and  outrage  and  cruelty 
and  murder  were  carried  to  every  christian  home. 
However  under  these  legal  restrictions  love  for  the 
cross  did  not  languish;  as  they  reverently,  more 
reverently  withdrew  it  from  the  vulgar  eyes,  the 
christians  drew  it  more  tenderly,  if  that  could  be 
possible,  to  their  own  hearts  and  with  that  marvelous 
ingenuity  and  resourcefulness  which  deep  affection 
alone  commands  they  fed  their  fervor  by  fashioning 
that  despised  figure  and  pouring  their  worship  upon 
it  in  a  wonderful  variety  of  ways. 


n 


OLY  love  laughs  at  locks  and  laws  and  easily 
finds  a  way  and  so  the  Church  was  made  rich 
by  the  enforced  skill  of  these  early  devotees 


THE  1*  SIGN 


of  the  suffering  God.  Their  eager  eyes  looked  about 
them  and  they  discovered  something  suggestive  of 
those  sweet  sufferings  on  all  sides — in  the  sights 
which  kindly  nature  spread  before  them,  in  the  regu- 
lar course  of  ordinary  life  and  in  the  occasional 
experience.  When  we  are  taught  to  see  the  cross  in 
the  wood  of  the*  trees,  the  cruel  nails  in  the  iron  and 
steel  with  which  the  world  is  filled,  and  the  thorny 
crown  in  the  finger  prick  we  suffer  when  cutting  the 
blushing  rosebud,  we  are  practicing  lessons  taught 
us  by  those  great  christians  of  the  hard  years  long 
ago.  They  could  find  the  cross  they  loved  standing 
all  around  them :  it  was  there  in  the  four  points  of 
the  compass  and  in  the  pick-axe  of  the  diggers  who 
worked  out  the  tunnels  of  the  catacombs;  they  saw 
it  in  the  figure  of  the  orante,  which  means  the  good 
christian  praying  down  in  that  darkness  with  extend- 
ed arms;  they  saw  it  in  the  singletree  of  the  wagon 
and  the  yardarm  of  the  ship  mast;  the  stretching 
arms  of  the  swimmer,  the  wings  of  the  flying  bird 
and  the  fins  of  the  fish  in  the  water  revealed  it;  and 
was  it  not  plainly  evident  in  the  shank  of  the  anchor, 
yes,  even  in  the  crossbar  from  which  hung  the 
guidon  or  bannerette  of  Rome's  great  pagan  legions? 
Every  one  of  these  objects  were  used  as  a  memento 
of  the  cross  and  everyone  of  them  comes  down  to 
us  as  a  symbol  in  valuable  monuments  from  those 
early  days.  All  the  great  mysteries  of  the  faith 
were  symbolized  to  satisfy  the  hungry  mind  and 
support  the  longing  heart  and  for  this  purpose  a 
multitude  of  objects  were  used  as  representations. 

ONE  of  the  most  familiar  of  these  emblems  was 
the  fish,  commonly  known  by  its  Greek  name 
icthus  which  means  a  fish.  This  mystic 
figure  is  very  ancient.  Examples  of  it  are  abundant; 
there  are  many  evidences  of  it  to  be  found  among 
the  early  writers.  The  first  of  these  to  mention  the 
fish  in  this  connection,  so  far  as  we  can  discover 
at  this  long  distance,  is  Clement  of  Alexandria  who 
recommends  that  all  christians  have  their  seals 
stamped  with  a  fish.  Monsignor  Hackett  whom  I 
quote  for  this  information,  pointedly  remarks  on  this 
incident  that  the  saint  "offers  no  reason  for  this 
recommendation;  from  which  it  may  be  safely 
inferred  that  the  meaning  was  so  well  understood 
that  explanation  was  unnecessary:"  and  since  the 
holy  scholar,  Clement,  was  born  about  the  year  150 
the  christian  sign  of  the  fish  is  ancient  indeed. 

In  those  bitter  years  they  were  compelled  to 
resort  to  the  sign-manual  for  the  purposes  of  pro- 


tection and  the  figure  of  a  fish  was  the  countersign 
of  a  christian.  Traced  by  the  point  of  his  staff  in 
the  dust  at  his  feet  the  sign  of  the  fish  revealed  to 
the  casual  acquaintance  that  the  traveller  was  a 
christian.  But  the  reasons  which  lead  to  the  selec- 
tion of  this  particular  figure  rather  than  any  other 
make  this  fact  here  more  pertinent  and  interesting. 
The  first  is  because  the  fish  in  the  water  with  his 
protruding  fins  was  to  the  christian  mind  an  indicator 
of  the  cross;  a  second  reason,  however,  is  still  more 
beautiful;  that  mystic  sign  is  such  a  delicate  con- 
trivance of  love  undying  but  unknown!  It  is  this: — 
'the  fish'  (in  its  original  greek)  is  an  acrostic  made 
from  the  initial  letters  of  the  ancient  ejaculation, 
which  interpreted  means  "Jesus  Christ,  Son  of  God, 
Saviour!"  The  first  letter  of  each  word  put  together 
form  the  Greek  word  meaning  a  fish.  So  that 
simple  figure  was  to  the  christian  a  living,  vibrant 
act  of  faith  by  which  he  proclaimed  to  God  and  the 
initiated  "I  believe  in  Jesus  Christ  as  the  Son  of 
God  and  My  Savior!"  Is  it  any  wonder  then  that 
to  those  who  understood  the  allegory  the  fish  should 
have  been  specially  popular?  It  is  rich  in  meaning 
and  so  is  constantly  in  evidence  in  one  or  other 
manner. 

^^^HE  active  faith  of  our  Catholic  progenitors 
^SJ  was  very  fertile  in  these  useful  manifestations 
cf  solid  piety;  for  that  reason  we,  their  chil- 
dren can  sincerely  thank  the  disciplina  arcani  or 
ancient  law  of  secrecy;  it  was  that  church  ruling 
which  drove  the  pent-up  love  of  those  great  heroes 
to  devise  new  ways  of  expression  and  so  that  love 
blossomed  forth  in  the  elaborate  veilings  of  symbol- 
ism. For  brevity's  sake  I  have  selected  only  three 
examples  of  this  and  among  them  the  icthus  or 
fish  for  a  special  reason  in  point  and  it  is  this : — the 
most  sweetly  appealing  of  all  the  ancient  emblems 
of  religious  mystery  is  the  dolphin.  This  particular 
fish  is  used  in  three  ways,  each  of  which  is  expres- 
sive of  devotion  to  the  Passion  of  Christ.  It  is  first, 
as  an  icthus,  the  representation  of  a  christian  as 
said  above,  and  secondly  it  signifies  fleetness — rapid 
or  intense  action;  but  in  either  sense  the  dolphin 
is  shown  as  moving  toward  the  Christ  sign  which 
will  be  explained  later  on  in  this  article.  In  these 
two  forms  its  meaning  is  vivid  and  inspiring:  it  tells 
the  earnest  desire  of  the  disciple  of  Christ,  like 
St.  Paul,  to  know  nothing  more  than  Christ  and  Him 
crucified  and  to  fly  to  His  cross  as  to  refuge,  strength 
and  consolation.    But  the  third  token  of  the  dolphin 


THE  +  SIGN 


is  specially  touching  and  is  well  known  to  the  whole 
world.  For  the  better  understanding  of  this  ancient 
type  it  should  be  recalled  that  to  the  pagan  world 
of  poetry  and  romance  the  dolphin  signified  the 
heart;  it  was  the  representation  of  tender  affection 
and  the  emblem  of  love.  The  christian  took  up  this 
suggestion,  twined  the  dolphin  about  the  anchor 
cross  and,  lo!  the  effect  eloquently  tells  its  own 
story  to  eye  and  to  heart — the  story  which  we  are 
now  trying  to  better  learn — that  the  love  and  affec- 
tion, that  the  very  hearts  of  our  ancient  soldiers  of 
Christ  were  most  tenderly  twined  about  their  stand- 
ard— the  cross  of  Jesus! 

The  last  evidence  which  I  shall  adduce  in 
the  present  article  is  of  personal  interest  to  the 
editors  of  The  Sign  and  to  all  the  members  of  the 
religious  family  to  which  they  belong — the  Passion- 
ist  Fathers  and  the  Passionist  Nuns — because  these 
carry  it  forth  worn  large  on  the  left  breast  of  their 
coarse  black  habit  and  mantle  as  a  part  of  their 
heaven-appointed  badge.    It  is  the  signet  XPI. 

^^^HERE  is  a  variety  of  notions  about  this  cipher; 
^SJ  some  are  false,  some  are  vague ;  even  among 
educated  Catholics  few,  indeed,  have  grasped 
its  exact  meaning  and  yet  it  is  one  of  the  very 
instructive,  usual  and  ancient  forms  of  devotion  to 
the  Passion.  A  little  explanation  will  make  it  all 
very  clear  and  helpful. 

This  venerable  trinity  is  made  up  of'the  first 
three  letters  of  the  Greek  word  Kristos,  Christ. 
They  are  the  exact  equivalent  of  the  first  four  letters 
in  the  latin  name  Christus  or  the  English  word  Christ 
and  the  mark  above.as  may  be  noted  on  the  Passion- 
ist's  badge,  shows  it  is  an  abbreviation  in  the  same 
manner  as  we  use  a  period  when  abbreviating  a  word 
in  our  own  languarge.  As  as  ordinary  example  Jos. 
is  the  English  abbreviation  of  the  name  Joseph,  so 
XPI  is  the  Greek  abbreviation  of  the  name  Kristos. 
It  is  expressing  it  shortly  by  using  only  the  first 
three  letters  and  so  like  all  similar  arbitrary  con- 
tractions the  form  is  stationary;  it  admits  of  no 
change  or  modification  but  takes  its  grammatical 
form  indifferently  from  its  mere  position  in  a 
sentence;  itself  will  remain  ever  the  same — XPI. 
It  is  a  sign. 

The  name  of  Our  Blessed  Lord  put  forth  in  this 
truncated  and  familiar  style  was  variously  called  by 
the  ancients  the  "  cree,"  the  "chiro,"  the  "sigla,"  the 
"monogram"  by  some  it  is  inaccurately  termed  the 
"labarum."     Its  correct  name   is  the   "Chrismon," 


rendered  in  ordinary  language  as  the  "Christ  Sign" 
or  simply  "The  Sign."  This  sign  appears  on  the 
distinctive  emblem  of  the  Passionists  as  JESU  XPI 
PASSIO  (The  Passion  of  Jesus  Christ.)  and  there- 
fore have  these  religious  ever  called  their  badge 
"The  Sign,"  from  that  holy  cipher,  XPI— the  sign 
of  Christ.  * 

This  will  appear  even  clearer  if  we  turn  our  at- 
tention briefly  to  an  exact  parallel  in  the  IHS.  This 
is  a  parallel  in  many  ways ;  first  of  all  and  strikingly 
in  that  it  lives  in  a  permanent  mist  of  wrong  notion 
before  the  ordinary  mind. 

Q  SHORT  time  ago  a  knot  of  young  church 
students  were  discussing  the  meaning  and 
history  of  the  characters  IHS.  One  main- 
tained they  stood  for  "I  Have  Suffered"  and  argued: 
"I  saw  those  letters  many  a  time  in  Ireland.  They 
were  always  put  over  the  dead  while  the  corpse  was 
being  waked  and  I  was  told  that  that  was  their 
meaning."  Another  contended,  "No;  they  are  not 
English;  they  are  the  initials  of  the  Latin  sentence 
'Jesus  Hominis  Salvator' — Jesus  Savior  of  Mankind." 
Hereupon  a  lithe-formed,  bright-eyed  classmate 
entered;  he  was  appealed  to  and  confidently  waved 
aside  all  difficulties,  saying,  "Those  are  the  letters 
from  the  banner  of  the  emperor  Constantine,  'In  Hoc 
Signo — In  This  Sign  Thou  Shalt  Conquer.'  Just 
like  'A  E  F'  meant  'American  Expeditionary  Force' 
or  'Y  M  C  A'  meant  'You  Must  Come  Across.'  My 
parents  learned  that  in  Poland  and  taught  it  to  me 
when  I  was  a  boy." 

That  these  young  men  were  all  wrong  and  al- 
together wrong  in  their  explanation  of  the  history 
and  meaning  of  these  sacred  letters  is  true.  But 
the  incident  teaches  two  useful  things : — the  preval- 
ent ignorance  of  these  familiar  letters  on  the  one 
hand  and  on  the  other  the  fanciful  meanings  which 
have  been  given  to  them  by  different  peoples.  As 
the  XPI  so  the  IHS  has  but  the  haziest  and  most 
varied  meanings  to  the  multitude. 

These  letters  are  parallels  again  in  this: — they 
both  signify  the  same  thing  and  that  is  the  Sacred 
name  of  Our  Lord — Jesus  Christ.  As  we  have  seen 
the  XPI  is  an  archaic  made  up  of  the  first  three 
letters  of  His  name  in  Greek,  so  the  IHS  is  a  similar 
devisement  composed  of  the  first  three  letters  of 
His  name  in  that  same  tongue;  so  that  IHS  XPI 
are  the  Greek  abbreviations  of  His  sacred  name — 
Jesus  Christ.  Finally  these  two  signets  are  parallels 
because  they  are  ancient,  venerable  and  pregnant 


THE  1*  SIGN 


christian  symbols  which  carried  to  the  minds  and 
hearts  of  our  wonderful  ancestors  in  the  faith  all  the 
meaning  and  inspiration  which  that  sweetest  of  all 
names  brings  of  suffering  and  of  love  divine,  and 
thus  folded  about  with  aged  wisdom  and  veneration 
they  have  been  inherited  by  us,  the  Catholics  of  to- 
day. They  are  tokens  of  the  wisdom  and  power 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

It  is  because  of  this  sublime  meaning  of  the 
archaism  IHS  XPI  that  it  appealed  so  strongly  to 
the  apostolic  spirit  of  the  saints,  and  such  men  as 
St.  Bernard  held  the  IHS  before  the  eyes  of  the 
people  in  his  day;  St.  Vincent  Ferrer,  St.  John 
Capistran  and  St.  Bernardine  of  Siena  preached  the 
wisdom  and  the  power  of  that  holy  sign,  holding 
it  up  before  the  eyes  of  the  people,  and  so  made  it 
the  instrument  whereby  they  converted  as  many  as 
thousands  by  one  sermon.  The  grace  of  Jesus 
Christ  fell  upon  the  efforts  of  those  earnest  men 
and  in  that  sign  they  conquered,  in  very  deed,  miles 
and  men  in  multitudes.  They  resurrected  the  IHS 
from  the  ages  and  as  an  evidence  of  the  deep  im- 
pression which  it  made  on  the  minds  of  the  nations 
we  have  the  IHS  stamped  all  over  the  western 
church — on  our  windows,  our  altars,  our  vestments, 
our  tabernacles;  it  is  even  stamped  on  the  very 
hosts  which  the  priest  consecrates  at  the  Mass. 
It  is  fittingly  the  seal  of  the  Jesuits  and  the  standard 
of  the  Holy  Name  Society. 

These  two  Greek  tokens,  the  IHS  and  the 
XPI,  reach  back  to  the  earliest  days  and  in  this 
connection  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  while  the 
IHS  is  by  far  the  more  familiar  today  the  XPI  was 
the  more  attractive  in  the  days  gone  by.  It  is 
everywhere  in  evidence  and  in  the  most  ingenious 
varieties  of  figure  not  merely  in  the  sequence  of 
lettering  but  in  a  multiplicity  of  weavings  that  make 
up  the  monogram.  It  is  a  matter  of  edifying  interest 
to  know  that  the  interturnings  of  the  letters  XPI  is 
the   most   ancient    form    of    monogram    known    to 


history;  it  is  the  original,  the  inspiration,  the 
protoparent  of  all  monograms  whether  sacred  or 
profane,  so  that  a  very  common  and  quite  proper 
name  for  this  epigraph  is  the  "monogram"  and  so 
has  it  been  called. 

Vw^HEN  we  came  to  inquire  why  the  chrismon 
\l/  appealed  more  strongly  to  the  first  christians 
than  did  its  holy  brother  the  IHS  we  meet 
the  magnificent  inspiration  for  which  we  are  seek- 
ing. The  determining  factor  was  devotion  to  Christ 
Crucified.  The  pious  hearts  of  those  much-tried 
predecessors  in  the  faith  were  ever  eager  for  the 
sign  of  the  cross  and  their  eyes  were  always  alert 
to  its  presence.  In  the  IHS  it  is  not  readily  per- 
ceptible, whereas  there  it  stood  bold,  strongly  defined 
in  the  first  letter  that  met  their  eyes  in  the  XPI. 
It  was  the  sign  of  the  cross,  the  chrismon,  the  sign 
of  Christ,  indeed,  and  they  took  it  to  their  hearts 
with  holy  satisfaction.  They  took  that  beloved  sign 
to  their  hearts  in  the  literal,  in  the  most  touching 
sense  of  those  pathetic  words  and  they  made  of  it 
a  holy  talisman.  They  traced  that  epigraphic  mark 
on  parchment,  they  cut  it  into  stone,  they  carved 
it  on  wood,  they  moulded  it  into  medals  so  that  they 
might  the  better  carry  it  with  them  constantly. 
And  those  early  lovers  of  the  cross  could  indulge 
at  their  pleasure  this  desire  to  carry  with  them  that 
sacred  device;  they  might  carry  it  publicly,  they 
might  carry  it  covertly  without  fear  of  detection  or 
suspicion.  Why?  Because  the  practice  of  wearing 
philacteries  by  the  Jews  and  charms  by  the  heathen 
populace  was  general;  it  was  as  common  and  indif- 
ferent as  the  watch-charm,  the  dress-ring,  the  locket 
or  the  lavalliere  is  amongst  the  men  and  women  of 
today.  These  fervent  souls  took  advantage  of  this 
chance  condition  and  contrived  an  unknown  number 
of  ways  by  which  they  might  carry  constantly  with 
them  the  beloved  cross  innocently  yet  plainly  visible 
in  that  mysterious  amulet,  the  chrismon,  the  XPI. 


35 


An    Unparalleled    Photograph 


■^^^^HIS  is  a  remarkable  picture.  It  shows  Dr. 
a  ^\  Michael  Possenti  of  Camerino,  Italy,  aged 
^^^^  eighty  seven  years,  placing  at  the  foot  of 
the  statue  of  a  saint  a  white  rose.  The 
statue  is  that  of  St.  Gabriel  of  the  Sorrowful  Virgin. 
The  picture  is  remarkable,  because  he  to  whom  the 
rose  is  offered, 
and  he  who  offer? 
it  are  brothers, — 
Francis  Possenti, 
now  St.  Gabriel 
of  the  Church 
Triumphant, 
whose  feast  falls 
on  February  27th, 
and  Michael  Pos- 
senti, of  the 
Church  Militant. 
The  picture  is  re- 
markable, because 
it  presents  a  scene 
unique,  perhaps, 
in  the  history  of 
the  Church.  A 
brother  still  in  the 
flesh  pays  venera- 
tion and  homage 
to  one  of  his  own 
blood  now  glori- 
fied in  heaven. 
Flesh  is  united 
with  spirit,  earth 
with  heaven,  mor- 
tality with  im- 
mortality, in  a 
communion  which 
only  those  can  ap- 
preciate who  are 
blessed  with  the  divine  gift  of  faith. 

Michael  Possenti,  the  sixth  son  of  Sante  Possenti 
and  Agnes  Frisciotti,  is  their  ninth  child.  His 
brother  Francis,  (St.  Gabriel,)  was  the  eighth  son 
and  the  eleventh  child,  three  years  younger  than 
Michael.  The  latter  is  the  only  surviving  member 
of  a  family  of  thirteen  children.  It  was  his  singular 
privilege  to  have  been  present  at  the  beatification 
and  canonization  of  his  young  brother  Francis.    His 


venerable  appearance  and  the  youthfulness  of  St. 
Gabriel,  who  died  when  but  twenty  four  years  old, 
are  in  striking  contrast.  It  but  typifies  the  difference 
between  the  two  stages  in  which  the  brothers  now 
exist, — the  Saint  in  the  region  of  perpetual  youth 
and  eternal  rest,  the  aged  brother  still  in  a  land 
where  everything 
changes  and 
grows  old. 

This  picture 
also  brings  most 
vividly  before  us 
a  vital  truth.  It 
visualizes  the  hol- 
i  n  e  s  s  of  the 
Church.  In  every 
age  holy  men  and 
women  have  been 
born  to  her,  who 
is  the  Mother  of 
Saints.  Even  in 
this  so  called  cul- 
tured and  materi- 
alistic age,  she 
still  gives  birth 
to  those  who  prac- 
tice in  an  heroic 
manner  the  chris- 
tian virtues,  and 
whom  she  crowns 
with  the  aureole 
of  sainthood. 

Brother  Syl- 
vester, who  was  a 
novice  with  the 
Saint,  was  present 
at  his  canoniza- 
tion and  is  still 
alive.  Gabriel 
was  born  later  than  Cardinal  Gibbons,  died  a  few 
years  before  the  latter  was  made  bishop,  and  beati- 
fied and  crowned  a  saint  before  that  illustrious 
prelate's  death.  Churchmen  are  living  today,  who, 
were  St.  Gabriel  still  on  earth,  would  be  his  seniors. 
There  is  a  Passionist  brother,  who  was  born  before 
St.'  Gabriel  and  is  at  present  residing  in  St.  Paul's 
Monastery,  Pittsburg,,  Pa. 
36 


MICHAEL    POSSENTI    PAYS    REVERENCE    TO    HIS    BROTHER    ST.    GABRIEL 


THE  +  SIGN 


The  Holy  Sacrifice  of  the  Mass,  her  chief  act  of 
worship,  is  identical  with  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Cross. 
The  Most  Blessed  Eucharist,  her  greatest  treasure, 
is  the  abiding  Memorial  of  the  Passion.  The 
Sacraments  are  the  channels  through  which  the 
infinite  merits  of  our  Divine  Redeemer's  Precious 
Blood  flow  directly  into  every  soul.  The  Sign  of  the 
Cross  she  uses  frequently  in  her  ceremonies,  places 
above  every  church  and  chapel,  displays  on  all  her 
vestments  and  in  all  her  books.  Every  altar  must 
have  its  crucifix.  The  devotion  most  favored  with 
indulgences  is  the  Way  of  the  Cross.  She  com- 
mands every  Friday  to  be  observed  by  abstinence 
from  meat  in  memory  of  Our  Savior's  sufferings 
and  death;  the  season  of  Lent  and  especially  Holy 
Week  is  appointed  for  special  remembrance  of  the 
Sacred  Passion. 

The  members  of  the  Archconfraternity  therefore 
are  corresponding  to  the  Church's  own  ideal  in  thus 
earnestly  striving  to  keep  the  Passion  ever  before 
their  eyes,  and  in  attempting  to  be  so  animated 
by  the  thought  of  it  that  everywhere  they  may 
spread  its  benign  influence. 

The  example  of  our  Divine  Savior  Himself 
also  bespeaks  the  excellence  of  this  mission.  After 
His  Resurrection,  the  first  among  men  to  behold  the 
Redeemer's  Glorious  Presence  were  those  who  had 
taken  a  close  part  in  His  bitter  Passion.  Thus, 
numbered  among  these  privileged  souls  were  His 
Blessed  Mother  Mary,  who  had  stood  beneath  His 
Cross;  the  Apostles,  St.  Peter,  St.  John,  and  St. 
James,  who  had  been  with  Him  in  the  garden  at 
Gethsemane,  and  had  followed  Him  at  least  as  far 
as  the  High  Priest's  court;  St.  Mary  Magdalen  and 
the  holy  women,  who  had  come  from  Galilee,  and 
who  had  remained  near  Him  on  Calvary. 

When  Jesus  walked  with  the  two  disciples  on 
i  the  road  to  Emmaus.  He  showed  them  how  the 
i  Scriptures  had  been  fulfilled  in  the  Savior's  suffer- 
I  ings  and  death.  And  when  the  Master  came  to  the 
Apostles  in  the  upper  room,  He  pointed  out  to  them 
•  the  Wounds  in  His  hands  and  side.  Later,  He  bade 
i  the  unbelieving  Apostle,  St.  Thomas,  to  put  his 
■  finger  into  these  same  Wounds,  and  to  place  his 
hand  into  His  riven  Side. 

This  especial  interest  of  Christ  Jesus  in  preach- 
ing His  Passion  after  His  Resurrection  is  the  self- 
same mission,  which  the  members  of  the  Archcon- 
fraternity are  asked  to  carry  on.  Like  the  Divine 
Master,  they  should  endeavor  to  keep  alive  the 
memory  of  the  Sacred  Pasion  in  their  own  hearts, 


and  when  opportunity  offers,  to   seize   it  to  make 
the  Passion  better  known  to  others. 

In  the  Acts  and  Epistles  of  the  Apostles,  the 
Passion  of  Our  Lord  is  set  forth  as  of  paramount 
importance.  When  condemned  and  persecuted, 
the  Apostles  rejoiced  to  be  accounted  worthy  to 
suffer  for  their  Leader,  Christ  Crucified. 


[EVERAL  years  ago,  a  celebrated  artist  devoted 
much  time  to  painting  scenes  of  the  Sacred 
Passion.  While  he  represented  our  Divine 
Savior  as  He  is  traditionally  depicted  in  such 
paintings,  he  gave  the  persons  surrounding  Him  the 
dress  and  appearance  of  people  in  modern  times. 
In  the  throng  passing  by  the  figure  of  the  Crucified, 
he  pictured  the  wealthy  with  their  jewels  and  fine 
clothes,  the  poor  in  garments  faded  and  torn,  the 
old  man  tottering  and  groping  for  his  way,  the  little 
child,  through  fear,  clinging  to  his  mother's  dress, 
the  merchant  alert  and  intent  on  the  business  of  the 
moment,  the  laborer  wearily  trudging  along,  the  bold 
youth  thoughtless  and  brimming  with  laughter,  the 
vain  young  girl  self  willed  and  pleasure  bent,  the 
healthy,  the  afflicted,  the  educated,  and  the 
ignorant;  every  class  and  condition  of  the  human 
race  had  its  counterpart  in  these  scenes.  If  any 
seemed  to  notice  the  suffering  Lover  of  their  souls, 
it  was  a  glance  of  distant  pity  or  an  angry  look  of 
scorn.  For  one  among  this  drifting  motley  crowd, 
who  offered  sympathy,  there  were  many  who  shook 
their  fists  at  Him  or  reached  down  for  a  stone. 

These  pictures  express  a  sad  truth,  that  few  at  the 
present  day  think  seriously  on  the  Passion  of  Christ. 
The  greater  part  of  men  despise  the  Cross,  which 
stands  for  self-control  and  self-sacrifice.  They  give 
their  every  thought  to  their  money  bags,  to  the 
latest  fashions,  to  novel  amusements,  to  personal 
advancement,  to  self-indulgence,  to  anything  rather 
than  to  treading  the  painful  blood-stained  road  to 
Calvary. 

If  the  members  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the 
Passion  go  forth  with  fervent  prayer  and  ardent 
zeal,  mindful  of  the  strength  of  the  Cross  and 
Passion,  holding  up  like  the  Church  this  mystery 
before  men  at  all  times,  buoyed  up  by  remembrance 
of  the  example  of  Our  Lord  Himself,  they  will 
convert  the  world,  and  bring  men,  women,  and 
children  to  attend  and  see  that  their  is  no  sorrow 
like  unto  his  sorrow,  to  behold  with  grateful  loving 
hearts  how  much  Christ  Crucified  loves  them. 


39 


Index  to  Worthwhile   Reading 


AN  EPITOME  OF  PRIESTLY  LIFE.  By 
Canon  Arvisenet.  Benziger  Bros.  New  York. 
Price  $2.50. 

This  is  an  adaptation  of  the  venerable  'Memorial 
Vitae  Sacerdotis'.  Like  in  style  and  spirit  to  the 
Imitation,  it  is  a  book  that  eventually  finds  its  way 
to  a  priest's  pridieu.  The  book  though  not  promising 
all  the  claims  of  the  Imitation  of  Christ  to  per- 
petuity, yet  in  great  measure  has  a  singular  worth. 
The  Publishers  have  chosen  a  style  of  'make-up' 
which  makes  it  peculiarly  well  adapted  to  serve  as 
a  gift  book.  As  a  festal  gift  to  a  clerical  friend  or 
as  an  ordination  present  to  the  newly  anointed  priest, 
this  edition  is  sure  to  be  in  constant  demand.  In 
putting  this  publication  on  the  market  the  Publishers 
had  this  in  mind  and  have  succeeded  in  producing 
a  book  which  in  every  way  is  well  suited  to  fulfill 
their  expectations. 

AMERICAN  CATHOLICS  IN  THE  WORLD 
WAR.  By  Michael  Williams.  Macmillan  Co.,  New 
York.    Price  $2.50. 

Mr.  Michael  Williams,  one  of  the  leading 
journalists  of  the  day,  has  decided  to  serve  the 
Church  through  the  Press.  He  uses  his  fine  talent 
and  tireless  energy  to  good  advantage  in  this  very 
important  book,  "The  American  Catholic  in  the 
War."  The  author  gives  us  two  valuable  install- 
ments of  a  history  of  Catholic  Patriotism  over  and 
above  what  he  contracts  for  by  the  title  of  the 
present  book.  The  first  five  chapters  give  a  survey 
of  the  history  of  Catholic  Americans  from  the 
beginnings  of  the  Republic  to  the  days  of  America's 
entrance  into  the  World  War.  Succinctly  yet  with 
completeness,  we  are  supplied  with  the  historical 
justification  of  Catholic  claims  which  were  set  forth 
anew  in  the  Bishops'  "Pledge  of  the  Catholic 
Church"  to  the  President  after  the  War  Manifesto 
of  April  6,  1917.  "Standing  firmly  upon  our  solid 
Catholic  tradition  and  history  from  the  very  founda- 
tion of  this  nation,  we  affirm  in  this  hour  of  stress 
and  trial  our  most  sacred  and  sincere  loyalty  and 
patriotism  toward  our  country,  our  government  and 
our  flag." 

The  middle  section  of  the  book  deals  with 
American  Catholics  in  the  War.  Herein  is  set  forth 
how  the  pledge  was  fulfilled.  We  all  have  more 
or  less  definite  ideas  that  the  services  rendered  to 
the  country  by  the  participation  of  Catholics  in  the 
War  were  on  a  colossal  scale.  The  number  mustered 
into  service,  it  is  practically  certain,  Mr.  Williams 
tells  us  in  a  footnote,  was  1,000,000.  The  book  deals 


not  so  much  in  statistics  but  rather  aims  at  setting 
forth  the  action  that  the  Church  took  in  answer  to 
the  demand  made  upon  her.  The  magnitude  of  the 
country's  task  and  the  variety  of  the  needs  that  would 
arise  from  the  multitude  of  the  Church's  children  in 
the  war  service  readily  gives  one  an  idea  of  what  the 
demands  were.  Her  activities  were  stupendous. 
The  response  she  made  to  the  call  is  now  history. 
Mr.  Williams  has  seen  to  it  that  the  memory  of  it 
shall  not  fade  and  be  lost  to  posterity.  No  Catholic 
should  be  ignorant  of  what  American  Catholics  did 
in  the  War. 

The  last  section  of  the  book  tells  of  the  activi- 
ties of  the  Catholic  Church  to  help  in  the  work  of 
reconstruction.  Reconstruction  is  a  need  that 
stretches  out  far  beyond  the  ruins  which  the  War 
caused.  There  are  the  evils  'that  are  always  with 
us'  which  are  fastened  on  the  very  heart  of  Social 
life;  evils  which  must  account  for  the  dreadful  War 
that  even  now  is  not  at  an  end;  but  alas  evils  that 
could  not  and  were  not  removed  by  the  War.  Mr. 
Williams  explains  how  the  Church  having  developed 
marvellous  efficiency  for  action  during  the  War, 
how  she  wielded  many  and  wonderful  agencies  for 
good  has  resolved  to  hold  to  these  gains  and  use 
her  organized  strength  to  continue  fighting  the 
evils  which  are  working  to  undermine  the  very 
foundations  of  Society.. 

The  National  Catholic  War  Council  is  now 
The  National  Catholic  Welfare  Council.  We  have 
here  an  account  of  what  the  N.  C.  W.  C.  is,  and 
what  it  plans  to  do.  The  organization  is  the  creation 
of  the  Catholic  Hierarchy.  The  United  and  official 
action  of  the  Catholic  Church  in  America,  will 
herewith  function  through  the  N.  C.  W.  C. 

We  are  pleased  to  promise  our  readers  two 
articles  specially  devoted  to  the  meaning  and  work 
of  the  N.  C.  W.  C.  by  Mr.  Michael  Williams  and 
Mr.  Charles  A.  McMahon. 


THE  LIGHT  ON  THE  LAGOON.  By  Isabel 
C.  Clarke.    Benziger  Bros.    New  York.    Price  $2.00. 

This  is  a  story  of  strong  love,  high  romance  and 
conflicting  emotions.  Its  principal  scenes  are  laid 
in  the  city  of  Venice.  It  is  the  revelation  of  the 
Kindly  Light  which  always  shines  for  the  humble 
in  heart  who  seek  truth  in  sincerity  of  purpose.  The 
reader  will  find  in  this  great  work  of  Miss  Clarke 
all  the  literary  grace,  descriptive  power  and  interest- 
ing action  which  have  uniformly  characterized  her 
large  output  of  fiction. 


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jy&MJ&JSSU&MJZELgMZKZJU 


A  NATIONAL      Sj>'    CAT  MO  LI  C 

/Monthly     macazineX 


VOL.  I. 

MARCH,    1922 

No.  8 

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JM?I  MJ5S-2S  3?I I™  !{£  i'  SIMIM1MK 

IPJ  InZ  2JTI  IT1-  VI  I1  lT '.' '.'  '.' '-'  V ''-  If '.'  '-' '.'  'f  I'  ? '.'  '.' '-'  '.' '.'  '>  ■'  .' '.'  '.' 

The  26otK   Successor   Of  Saint   Peter 


Born  at  Desio,  I  tab?,  October  12,  1858.        Made  Papal  Nuncio  to  Poland  in   igi8. 

Appointed  Archbishop  of  Milan  and   created  Cardinal,  June    16,    ig2i. 

Elected  Pope  to  succeed  Benedict  XV.  February  6,  1922. 


MgfflfWWWfflWWffllftOT^ 


mwmSftffl7mrmfiffiS555L 


Some  Shrines  In  Portugal 


Thomas  Walsh 


XF,  as  we  said  in  a  former  article  in  The 
Sign,  a  visit  to  Spain  is,  in  a  way,  a 
pilgrimage,  the  whole  country,  laws  and 
customs  of  the  Spaniards  being  the  result 
of  a  religious  uprising — a  crusade  against  the  Moors 
— we  must  say,  on  the  other  hand,  that  a  visit  to 
Portugal,  a  material  nation  without  the  ardors  of 
soul  so  noticeable  in  Spain,  is  not  necessarily  a 
pilgrimage. 

Crossing  the  Douro,  we  leave  behind  us  the 
plains  of  Salamanca  and  Avila,  the  barren  rocks  of 
Monserrato,  the  land  of  rigid  convents  and  tragic 
saints,  we  are  greeted  by  a  rush  of  many  waters, 
verdure  and  mosses  extraordinary,  cream  and  butter 
and  heavy  wines,  all  the  flora  of  the  north  and  the 
tropics  combined  into  a  landscrape  almost 
paradisiacal. 

Religion  in  Portugal  is  mild  and  pastoral  as  the 
souls  of  so  many  of  its  people.  Christ  has  come 
down  from  His  cross  to  walk  these  hills  and  valleys 
as  the  Good  Shepherd  with  the  lambkin  on  His 
shoulder.  He  is  the  transfigured  Christ  of  Tabor, 
not  the  Bleeding  Victim  of  Calvary.  Here  the  very 
martyrs  seem  to  live  in  fame  without  their 
torments.  They  are  ancient,  lively,  half-realized 
intercessors  before  a  tender  Savior  Who  regards 
the  humility  of  His  servants.  To  the  Portuguese, 
Christ  is,  in  the  words  of  Origen,  the  Bridge  between 
us  and  the  Father. 

About  one  hundred  miles  north  of  Lisbon  you 
catch  sight  across  the  plains  of  a  splendid  ruins 
of  medieval  character  dominating  a  lofty  hill  like  a 
bit  of  scenery  out  of  a  fairy-tale.  It  is  the  old  castle 
of  Dom  Diniz.  He  was  the  sixth  independent 
monarch  of  Portugal,  the  greatest  of  his  country's 
kings,  the  founder  of  the  University  of  Coimbra, 
the  protector  of  the  Order  of  Christ,  and  the  culti- 
vator of  the  Pinhal  Real,  a  forest  of  French  pines 
through  which  you  will  journey  many  miles  if  you 
ever  visit  these  regions  in  person.  The  castle  is  one 
of  the  most  romantic  in  Europe.  Diniz,  born  in 
1279  and  living  his  eventful  days  until  1325,  passed 
many  years  in  these  heights  looking  aoross  at  the 
monasteries  and  churches  rising  from  the  other  hills 
around. 


We  start  our  pilgrim  journey  here  because  King 
Diniz  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  the  husband  of  a 
saint,  the  Holy  Queen  of  Portugal,  Elizabeth  or 
Isabel,  the  daughter  of  Pedro  III.  of  Aragon.  She 
is  described  for  us  by  Antonio  Coelho  Gasco  in  his 
History  of  Coimbra  as  "a  very  saintly  lady  of 
gigantic  frame,  very  stout,  very  white  and  very  red, 
with  a  long  face  and  large  serene  eyes,  nose  rather 
low  with  wide  nostrils,  head  long  and  beautiful." 

The  story  of  St.  Isabel  now  takes  us  north  to 
the  lovely  city  of  Coimbra,  the  home  of  nightingales, 
and  also  of  poets  and  scholars  like  Camoens  and  the 
Buchanan  brothers,  the  centre  of  a  wealth  of  mem- 
ories of  the  murdered  Inez  de  Castro,  of  the 
Pombal,  and  the  site  of  the  miracle  of  the  roses 
performed  in  the  convent  of  Santa  Clara.  The  ruins 
of  this  venerable  building  are  still  standing  low  in 
the  river  reaches  of  the  Mondego. 

^^^HE  afternoon  of  our  visit  the  cows  were 
^^^  munching  comfortably  in  their  stalls  within 
the  sacred  walls  where  Inez  was  slain  by  the 
royal  assassins.  The  cowherd  was  not  accustomed 
to  visitors  staring  at  his  work  through  the  very  Door 
of  the  Roses  where  King  Diniz  surprised  his  Queen 
with  her  apron  filled  with  bread  and  asked : 

"What  have  you  there?" 

"Roses,"  replied  the  Queen. 

"Let  me  see  them,"  said  the  husband. 

And  behold  her  apron  was  filled  with  roses! 

Let  nobody  rise  to  remind  me  that  this  story 
is  also  told  of  St.  Elizabeth  of  Thuringia.  It  is, 
and  it  is  told  of  several  other  saints  as  well.  Here 
at  Coimbra  there  are  all  the  intimate  details  to 
confirm  the  6tory:  plentiful  roses,  a  strong  and 
definite  tradition,  a  royal,  conspicuous  person,  a  real 
convent  gate,  and  on  a  neighboring  hill  in  another 
convent  of  Santa  Clara  the  old  Gothic  tomb  made 
for  the  saint  in  the  fourteenth  century  and  still 
guarded  from  profanation  by  the  Daughters  of  the 
Franciscan  Order. 

Down  below  is  the  Fonte  des  Amores  that 
shaded  and  soothed  the  last  hours  of  the  unhappy 
Inez  and  beyond  are  the  two  hills  called  Loneliness 
and  Meditation,  and  the  placid  Mondego  carrying 


THE 
the  ancient  echoes  to  tell  the  sea  the  music  of 
countless  poets  and  undying  swarms  of  nightingales 
and  student-serenaders.  The  ghosts  of  Francisco 
Suarez  can  well  walk  these  steep  streets  and  road- 
ways. There  he  may  meet  again  the  great  Augustin- 
ian  scholar  Egidius,  Professor  de  Vesperis  in  the 
University.  The  great  Sa  de  Miranda  may  rustle 
by  like  a  zephyr  and  Gouvea  of  Paris  and  the  one- 
eyed  Camoens  pass  the  time  of  day  in  our  century 
that  throws  them  all  to- 
gether into  misty  half- 
forgetfulness.  Coimbra  is 
a  royal  cradle  of  dreams. 

^tt^E  travel  south  from 
117  Coimbra  if  we  de- 
sire to  follow  Inez 
de  Castro  and  Pedro  I. 
(1357-1367  reg.)  to  their 
splendid  sarcofagus  at 
Alcobaca.  We  reach  a 
pleasant  litle  town  on  the 
plains  dominated  by  the 
relics  of  a  Moorish 
fortress.  The  town  is 
evidently  only  the  over- 
flow from  the  Cistercian 
Monastery  Mosteiro  de 
Santa  Maria,  dating  from 
1148  after  King  Alfonso 
Henriques  had  finally  con- 
quered the  Moors  at 
Santarem.  It  is  one  of  the 
largest  buildings  in  the 
world  and  in  its  day  nine 
hundred  of  its  monks  said 
daily  Mass  here  without 
intermission.  It  comprises 
five  cloisters,  seven  dormi- 
tories,   a    hospice    and    a 

library  of  25,000  books.  Think  of  the  kitchen  of 
such  a  monster  monastery,  where  a  small  river,  the 
Alcoa,  was  turned  aside  to  wash  the  dishes  of  the 
refectory!  And  now  when  the  monks  are  gone 
the  stream  still  rushes  through  the  kitchen  and  under 
the  benches  of  what  is  today  the  movie-theatre  of 
Alcobaca.  In  the  Chapel  of  the  Tombs  we  find 
Pedro  and  Inez  with  their  effigies  lying  foot  to  foot 
so  that  the  king,  as  he  desired,  might  catch  sight  of 
his  queen  at  the  first  opening  of  his  eyes  on  his 
resurrection  day!  Six  lions  support  the  king's 
effiigy,  and  six  monsters  resembling  sphinxes  the 


SIGN 


there     are     angels     grouped     at     every 


soldiers    with 
monastery    is 


queen  s ; 
corner. 

A  few  miles  further  on  we  come  to  another 
enormous  edifice,  the  Mosteiro  de  Santa  Maria  da 
Victoria,  more  generally  known  as  Batalha,  after  the 
Battle  of  Aljubarrota  (August  14,  1385)  where  the 
baker's  wife  pursued  and  killed  seven  Spanish 
the  aid  of  her  frying  pan.  The 
one  of  the  noblest  structures  in 
Christendom  and  in  the 
hands  of  the  Dominican 
Order,  after  the  plans  of 
an  Irish  architect  named 
Houget  or  Hackett,  was 
gradually  developed  as  the 
Portugese  national  monu- 
ment until  in  1551,  when 
it  was  still  left  incomplete 
as  it  stands  today.  It  is  a 
veritable  forest  of  golden- 
brown  stone,  a  labyrinth 
of  royal  tombs,  cloisters 
and  chapels. 

As  my  friend  and  I 
drove  up  to  the  door  we 
met  a  large  party  of  Eng- 
lish tourists  just  landed 
from  a  Booth  Liner  and 
crowding  around  the 
guardians  for  admission. 
There  sat  behind  the  desk 
a  very  handsome  man 
wearing  an  official  cap 
who  waved  aside  a  group 
of  tourists  and  asked  us 
very   sharply: 

"Are  you  not  North 
Americans?" 

"We  are,  sir." 
"Then  wait  until  your  turn  comes." 
We  fell  back  in  some  astonishment  and  concern 
for  as  we  had  just  come  from  Spain  where  mon- 
archist conspirators  were  supposed  to  have  gathered 
we  feared  that  we  had  aroused  suspicion  in  the 
authorities.  When  all  the  British  tourists  had  been 
dispatched  the  great  man  rose  from  his  desk  and 
coming  towards  us  with  his  cap  in  his  hand  shook 
us  warmly  by  the  hand,  saying: — 

"Gentlemen,  you  are  from  the  Mother  Republic 
of  the  world  and  we  are  your  little  brother  republi- 
cans.   Therefore  we  are  going  to  show  you  special 


F  UNFINISHED   CHAPEL  AT   BATALHA 


THE  1*  SIGN 


THE  CONVENT  OF  SANTA  CLARA  AT  COIMB 


honors  and  conduct  you  through  every  part  of  the 
Abbey,  even  the  most  private  corners." 

What  a  day  of  glories  it  was!  Never  in  the 
most  fantastic  mind  had  come  visions  more  strange 
and  romantic 
than  in  this 
petrification  of 
knightly  dreams. 
Photogra  phs 
only  faintly  re- 
veal the  magic 
qualities  of  its 
tremendous  pro- 
portions, and  the 
almost  painful 
intricacy  of  its 
decorations.  We 
were  glad  we 
were  republicans 
whatever  we 
may  have  thought  of  Portuguese  republicanism. 

^tt^E  have  no  time  to  linger  over  the  wonders  01 
\l/  the  Convent  of  Mafra,  "the  Escorial"  of 
Portugal,  nor  of  the  more  interesting  Convento 
de  Christo,  the  convent-palace  of  the  Order  of  Christ 
organized  by  King  Diniz  in  1314  on  the  suppression 
of  the  Order  of  Knights  Templars.  Here  are 
splendors  beyond  splendors  and  they  grow  weari- 
some at  last  until  we  sigh  for  simple  and  more 
human  interests 
than  are  to  be 
found  either  at 
Mafra  or  at 
Thomar.  Noth- 
ing remains  of 
Sagres  the  fam- 
ous nautical  in- 
stitution of 
Prince  Henry 
the  Navigator 
since  the  burn- 
ing of  it  by 
Francis  Drake. 
The  crows  that 
once  occupied 
the  sacred  cages  in  the  church  of  Saint  Vincent,  to 
commemorate  their  brethren  that  escorted  his  dead 
body  into  the  harbor  of  Lisbon,  have  long  since 
been  absent  from  their  perches,  and  only  remain 
in  the  armorial  bearings  and  architectural  details 
of  more  ancient  Lisbon. 


To  Cintra,  therefore,  we  went,  wearied  of  the 
stony  glories  of  the  national  shrines,  to  Cintra  one 
of  the  three  supreme  beauty-spots  of  the  world — 
Taormina  and  Monte  Carlo  being  the  others.     It  is 

a  wild  upheaval 
of  mountains, 
orchards  and 
gardens  filled 
with  the  flora  of 
every  clime  from 
the  most  tropical 
valleys  to  the 
most  northern 
peaks.  There  is 
a  rush  of  streams 
down  the  slopes 
that  makes  the 
rumor  of  thous- 
ands of  little 
waterfalls  and  a 
heavy  pillow  of  moss  covers  the  ground  and  the 
buildings  and  marble  staircases  on  every  side. 
There  are  gardens,  quintas,  from  every  period  in 
Portuguese  history,  from  the  early  kings,  the  power- 
ful viceroys,  the  eccentric  millionaires,  and  modern 
English  and  Brazilian  potentates,  preserving  their 
ancient  beauties  in  a  framework  of  fresh  stone  and 
cement,  with  lovelier  lawns  and  newly  developed 
flowers.  On  a  peak  apart  we  found  ourselves  in  the 
Quinta  de  Penha  Verda,  the  old  home  of  Joao  de 

Castro,  fourth 
Viceroy  of  India 
and  defender  of 
Diu  who  in  his 
forty  -  eighth 
year  in  1548 
died  here  in 
poverty,  worn 
out  by  his  tre- 
mendous under- 
takings. 


o- 


THE   CLOISTER  OF   BELEM 


every 
de  in 
these  gar- 
dens which  we 
had  entered  by  climbing  over  the  walls  and  dodg- 
ing the  keepers,  were  evidences  of  the  constant 
thought  and  tenderness  of  Dom  Joao.  Here  and 
there  were  stones  bearing  Sanscrit  inscriptions 
brought  from  India ;  Latin  epitaphs  and  Renaissance 
chapels    crowned    the    summits    and    lovely    old 


THE  +  SIGN 


Dutch  tiles  of  blue  and  brown  scenes  fronted  the 
mossy  stairways  on  the  slopes. 

The  first  orange  trees  brought  from  the  West 
Indies  were  planted  here  and  hence  the  name  of 
portogalli  by  which  they  were  first  known  in 
southern  Italy.  This  is  holy  ground  for  Dom  Joao 
was  in  his  way  a  saint  throughout  his  simple  devoted 
life,  loving  retirement  and  placing  proper  value 
upon  the  moral  use  of  his  days.  It  was  in  1535  that 
he  began  the  planting  of  his  garden.  "Here  he 
entertained  himself," 
writes  an  early  bio- 
grapher, "with  a  new 
strange  kind  of  agri- 
culture, for  he  cut 
down  fruit  -  bearing 
trees  and  planted 
wildwoods,  perhaps  to 
show  that  he  was 
disinterested  so  that 
not  even  from  the 
earth  would  he  expect 
reward.  And  it  is  no 
wonder  if  •  one  who 
disdained  the  rubies 
and  diamonds  of  the 
East  should  think 
little  of  the  products 
of  Cintra's  rocks." 

He  was  at  his 
quinta  in  1545  when 
the  unwelcome  sum- 
mons came  to  him  to 
depart  as  Governor  of 
India,  and  the  histori- 
an Couto  who  served 
under     him     in     this 

expedition  tells  the  amusing  story  of  how  "passing 
one  day  by  a  tailor-shop  in  Lisbon  he  noticed  a  pair 
of  very  rich  and  fashionable  velvet  breeches,  and 
pulling  up  his  horse  asked  to  see  them.  After 
examining  their  curious  workmanship  he  asked  for 
whom  they  were  made.  The  tailor  not  recognizing 
him  answered  that  they  were  for  the  son  of  the 
Governor  who  was  going  to  India.  In  a  rage  Dom 
Joao  took  up  a  pair  of  scissors  and  cut  them  in 
shreds,  saying  as  he  rode  away — "Bid  that  young 
man  go  and  purchase  armor!" 

When  he  had  defeated  the  army  of  sixty 
thousand  Moors  at  Diu  he  wrote  his  king  a  list  of 
all  who  had  disinguished  themselves  in  the  terrible 


warfare,  and  as  it  was  customary  for  the  conqueror 
of  a  city  to  ask  for  a  reward,  he  wrote — "Since 
Your  Highness  may  give  me  one  unsuited  to  my 
nature  and  mode  of  life,  I  will  ask  him  specifically 
that  you  grant  me  a  chestnut-grove  which  you  own 
in  the  mountains  of  Cintra  by  the  King's  Fountain, 
bordering  my  quinta  there,  so  that  my  servants 
having  chestnuts  to  eat  on  my  estate  may  not  go 
plundering  what  does  not  belong  to  them." 

Dom  Joao's  letters  contain  many  other  refer- 
ences to  this  beloved 
garden.  He  died  in 
poverty  in  1548  after 
having  written  the 
council  of  Goa  begg- 
ing them  in  his  illness 
to  buy  him  a  hen  for 
his  sustenance.  He 
was  "a  saint  and  a 
hero,"  says  the  Portu- 
guese historian  Oli- 
veira  Martins.  He 
might  have  been  a 
poet  had  he  wished; 
he  was  lying  in  the 
arms  of  Saint  Francis 
Xavier  when  he  died 
at  Goa  in  1548. 


a  a 


CHURCH    AND    MONASTERY    AT    ALCOBACA 


OTHING  more 
Franciscan  in 
the  primitive 
sense  can  be  imagined 
than  the  tiny  Capu- 
chin Convent  known 
to  fame  as  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Cork  from 
the  sheets  of  cork-wood  that  the  friars  placed  to 
keep  out  the  dampness  from  their  cells.  Here  in 
the  mountains  southwest  of  Cintra  we  found  a 
little  hillock  of  moss  and  ancient  olive  trees  and,  dug 
deep  into  the  rock  and  earth,  the  half-buried  Con- 
vent of  the  Capuchins. 

Truly  these  old  brothers  had  emulated  the 
spirit  of  the  mole  so  beloved  by  their  Assisian 
founder;  they  were  imbued  with  the  new  pastoral 
poetry  that  surrounded  the  Good  Shepherd  with 
followers  who  talked  the  language  of  the  Virgilian 
eclogues,  and  so  lived  their  conventual  life  in  the 
open  sun  and  stars,  like  Tityrus  and  Sabinus.  Their 
courtyard  and  miniature  cells  have  been  cut  out  of 


THE  1*  SIGN 


the  solid  rock;  the  refectory  would  be  crowded  by 
twelve  members ;  and  a  tall  brother  would  bump  his 
head  badly,  if  he  lifted  it  up  in  pride. 

Outside  on  a  point  of  the  summit  stands  a  rock 
weighing  some  thousand  pounds;  under  it  is  a 
hollow  large  enough  to  hold  a  child,  where  it  is 
recorded  the  great  hermit  Saint  Honorius  died  in 
1596  after  an  occupancy  of  some  forty  years.  We 
climbed  down  and  crouched  for  a  while  in  the  hole 
and  we  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  safely  on 
our  feet  again  after  the 
exertion.  It  is  also 
related  that  when  the 
exiled  King  Sebastian 
took  refuge  in  this  child- 
like monastery,  he  was 
visited  by  the  famous 
poet  Camoens  who  sat 
with  him  in  the  entrance 
court  at  one  of  the  stone 
tables  and  read  to  him 
parts  of  the  "Lusiads" 
which  he  was  then  com- 
posing. 

A  very  old  woman 
bent  with  age  (or  was  it 
from  the  low  ceilings) 
and  a  little  boy  were  in 
charge  of  the  convent. 
In  the  chapel  the  damp- 
ness had  loosened  a 
small  clay  image  of  an 
angel  from  the  walls  and 
it  was  lying  in  a  corner 
in  the  dust  heap.  My 
friend  was  tempted  to 
carry  it  off,  but  when  we 

considered  that  the  old  woman  would  very  likely 
be  held  responsible  for  its  disappearance  we  resolved 
that  our  collection  of  relics  had  better  remain  in- 
complete, so  we  came  away  empty-handed  but  much 
enriched  in  memories  and  sentiment. 

Another  rustic  pilgrimage  was  our  few  day's 
visit  to  Bussaco,  our  hotel  being  the  secularised 
monastery  of  the  Carmelities  founded  in  1268,  with 
its  cells  lined  with  sheets  of  cork  as  in  the  Capuchin 
monastery  of  the  Carmelites  founded  in  1268,  with 
of  art  and  splendor  and  the  forest  surrounding  the 
cloister  remains  as  one  of  the  finest  in  Europe.  The 
Duke  of  Wellington  lived  here  during  his  campaign 
against  Massena  in  1810,  which  seems  recent  history 


indeed,    under    these    centenarian    cypresses    and 
gigantic  plane-trees. 

The  roads  and  ascents  of  stone,  the  garden 
towers  and  resting-places,  as  well  as  the  flower  beds 
and  waterworks,  speak  of  centuries  of  industry  and 
loving  care  on  the  part  of  the  Carmelites.  At  the 
main  entrance  there  is  affixed  to  the  gate  a  marble 
tablet  bearing  a  Bull  of  Gregory  XV.  anathematising 
in  1622  any  woman  who  would  attempt  to  enter 
these  precincts.  In  1643  Pope  Urban  VIII.  put  an 
excommunication  upon 
my  person  who  would  in- 
jure this  "sacred  forest" 
or  invade  the  property. 

Today  English 
women  sit  on  the  terrace, 
drinking  their  coffee  and 
puffing  their  cigarettes 
and  talking  of  pro- 
gress and  reform.  There 
is  a  sound  of  billiard 
balls  from  the  hall  that 
once  hardly  heard  the 
whispers  of  the  brothers. 
The  long  walk  under  the 
cedar  trees  where  the 
old  fathers  used  to  take 
their  outing  and  medita- 
tion is  now  the  honey- 
moon resort  of  British 
tourists.  New  elections, 
new  assassinations,  alter 
the  Government  of  Port- 
ugal every  month,  but 
the  same  soft  winds  blow 
over  Bussaco,  the  same 
peace  inherited  from  its 
founders  breathes  an  ancient  lesson  to  the  visitors 
from  the  haughty  north. 

^^^HERE  was  one  pilgrimage  that  we  did  not 
L)  make  although  we  tried  hard  enough,  and 
that  was  a  visit  to  the  shrine  of  Saint  Brigid's 
head  at  Odivellas  outside  Lisbon.  A  trolley  line 
took  us  out  as  far  as  Lumiar  along  a  line  of  lovely 
old  country  estates  belonging  to  such  personages  as 
the  Dukes  of  Palmeella  and  the  Angueja  and  Dlhao 
families.  While  thoroughly  enjoying  the  scenery 
in  a  way  permitted  to  the  most  ardent  pilgrims,  we 
did  not  forget  the  shrine  of  religion  and  patriotism 
for  which  we  had  put  on  our  cockle-shells  and 
walking  boots. 


DEN   OF   THE    CAPUCHIN    MONASTERY    AT    CINTRA 


THE  1*  SIGN 


At  the  gates  of  the  ancient  Cistercian  convent 
founded  in  1305  by  King  Diniz  the  husband  of  the 
Holy  Queen  Isabel,  we  saw  the  cannon-ball  from 
the  siege  of  Ormuz,  but  the  doors  were  barred  so 
that  we  could  not  discover  whether  or  not  it  was  here 
they  preserved  the  head  of  the  Bride  of  Kildare, 
according  to  the  legend.  Now  it  seems  that  Brigid 
passed  away  in  the  year  525,  and  after  the  invasion 
of  the  Danes  in  831  her  remains  were  removed  to 
the  Cathedral  of  Down  where  they  rested  for  four 
hundred  years. 

At  the  time  of  the  Reformation,  they  were 
carried  to  Neustadt  in  Austria-Hungary  where, 
according  to  Colgan  and  Bollandus,  they  rested  until 
1587  when  they  were  translated  to  the  Jesuit  church 
in  Lisbon.  In  spite  of  all  this,  there  is  the  date 
of  1283  on  a  slab  at  Odivellas  commemorating  the 
founding  of  a  sodality  of  Saint  Brigid  and  the  three 
Irish  knights  who  are  said  to  have  brought  the  skull 
hither.  These  discrepancies  can  easily  be  explained 
away  when  we  remember  the  ancient  custom  of 
dividing  up  the  relics  of  saints. 

Perhaps  the  Portuguese,  so  enthusiastic  about 
republicans  from  America,  will  be  persuaded  to  send 
back  to  Kildare  this  holy  relic  of  ancient  Erin  as  a 
tribute  of  brotherhood  to  a  newly  proclaimed 
Republic  of  Ireland? 

XN  Lisbon  we  visited  another  shrine,  the 
glorious  Convent  of  the  Hieronymites  of 
Belem  founded  here  in  fulfillment  of  King 
Emanuel's  vow  to  build  a  convent  if  Vasco  da  Gama 
should  return  successful  from  his  voyage  of  dis- 
covery. It  is  now  used  as  the  Casa  Pia  or  orphan- 
age of  Lisbon  and,  greatly  enlarged  by  comparatively 
modern  additions,  it  still  retains  the  unusual  majesty 
that  makes  it  one  of  the  really  great  buildings  of 
the  world. 


In  the  exquisite  chapel  lie  the  remains  of  the 
founder  and  other  royalities,  especially  interesting 
for  an  Englishman  being  the  tomb  of  Catherine  of 
Braganza  long  the  Queen  of  the  unfortunate 
Charles  II.  of  England.  Conspicuous  tombs  hold 
the  remains  of  Camoens  and  Vasco  da  Gama. 

A  rather  disagreeable  event  occurred  to  mar 
the  pleasure  of  our  visit;  just  as  we  genuflected 
before  the  high  altar  a  woman  directed  a  toddling 
infant  to  run  across  and  beg  for  alms,  in  spite  of 
the  strict  prohibition  against  begging  in  the  church. 
We  shooed  the  child  away  and  the  woman  grabbing 
the  infant  ran  towards  the  door,  the  famous  door, 
of  Nicholas  the  Frenchman,  and  when  we  attempted 
to  pass  out  she  started  a  demonstration  among  the 
other  beggars  declaring  we  had  struck  the  child 
and  showing  what  may  have  been  a  bruise  or  dirt- 
spot  several  days  old  on  the  infants  cheek.  Not 
speaking  a  word  of  Portuguese  we  were  certainly 
in  a  fix  to  placate  the  angry  women  who  gathered 
around. 

A  long  speech  in  fluent  English,  a  political  pat 
on  the  head  for  the  poor  child,  a  piece  of  silver 
money  for  the  old  humbug-mother  and  a  rapid  pair 
of  feet  combined  to  save  us  from  what  might  have 
developed  into  a  mob.  We  shall  always  remember 
Belem,  its  great  lowliness  and  its  scoundrelly  beggar 
women. 

Would  we  risk  it  all  again,  go  back  over  the 
wearisome  railroads  and  choppy  seas,  bear  up  under 
the  poor  hotels,  the  dust  and  the  heats  of  desolate 
regions,  to  visit  a  few  more  shrines  in  Portugal? 
Ah,  yes!  for  the  stories  of  the  Portugal  Shrines  bring 
solace  to  all  Pilgrims,  and  the  peace  which  passeth 
understanding — wiping  the  dust  of  travel  from  the 
weary  feet  and  the  dust  of  worldiness  from  the 
Soul  of  man. 


Blue-Bells 

Placidus  M.  Endler,  C.  P. 


'Tis  not  to  call  trie  fire-bees 

Unto  the  flaming  rose 
That  Blue-Bell  swings  Kis  sweetness  round 

So  blithely  as  Ke  blows. 


Mo  'tis  to  warn  the  sleeping  flow'rs 
To  hold  with  all  their  might 

Their  diamond  dew-beads  when  the  w'ind 
Comes  stealing  round  at  night. 


Trie  Labor  Problem 


Rev.  R.  A.  McGc^ 


MOST  readers  find  all  literature  on  Socialism  and  kindred  subjects  to  be  of  the  dry-as-dust  order 
and  are  repelled  by  it.  Therefore  they  are  unwilling  to  make  the  mental  effort  to  inform  them- 
selves on  what  they  admit  to  be  of  vital  importance.  Often  the  suspicion  remains  that  there  is  much 
truth  and  plausibility  underlying  the  learned  presentation  of  the  heterodox  view.  Father  McGowan 
has  had  all  this  in  mind  in  preparing  this  series  on  social  subjects  for  THE  SIGN  and  our  readers  will 
be  grateful  to  him  for  his  simple,  lucid  and  altogether  satisfying  presentation  of  the   Catholic  view. 

— Editors 


fi 


"ACTORIES,  mines,  railroads,  and  the  like 
are  owned  for  the  most  part  by  a  small 
section  of  the  people.  Through  the  cor- 
poration form  of  ownership  and  the 
importance  of  the  banks  and  insurance  companies, 
a  still  smaller  number  of  persons  control  them. 
Most  of  the  persons  who  work  in  factories  and  mines, 
on  the  railroads,  etc.,  do  not  own  any  share  of  these 
means  of  work  and  livelihood  and  if  they  happen 
to  own  a  share,  it  does  not  give  them  any  control. 

Before  they  can  work  they  have  to  get  permis- 
sion from  those  in  control.  Those  in  control,  how- 
ever, do  not  always  need  their  work  and  do  not  have 
to  hire  them.  Yet  the  only  normal  and  decent  way 
they  can  live  is  by  working.  They  are  thus  very 
weak,  and  the  owners,  and  especially  those  in  con- 
trol, are  very  strong.  Moreover,  they  are  weak 
where  they  need  to  be  strong,  for  the  kind  of  living 
they  and  their  families  are  to  have  stands  at  stake. 
We  have,  therefore,  a  labor  problem. 

Except  in  a  few  industries  legally  declared  to 
be  public  utilities,  (and  imperfectly  even  then), 
the  owners  of  these  means  of  work  and  livelihood 
are  allowed  to  receive  as  much  money  as  they  can 
make.  No  limit  in  law  and  no  limit  in  accepted 
morals  is  placed  to  the  amount  of  money  they  can 
take  for  themselves  in  the  ordinary  conduct  of  their 
business.  Other  owners,  the  consumers  and  the 
employees  must  stand  the  consequences. 

The  owners  of  industry  ordinarily  run  their 
business  on  the  plan  that  only  those  of  the  property- 
less  who  are  needed  are  to  be  hired,  and  that  they 
are  to  be  discharged  when  they  are  not  needed. 
They  usually  work  on  the  plan  also  that  when  they 
hire  a  man  or  woman  they  are  to  pay  the  lowest 
sum  he  will  do  the  work  for. 

As  individuals  and  as  a  body  the  owners  of  the 


means  of  work  are  not  obliged  to  give  the  property- 
less  permission  to  work.  When  they  give  the 
propertyless  permission  to  work  they  are  not  obliged 
to  pay  them  any  more  money  than  the  smallest 
amount  the  propertyless  will  work  for,  except  where 
minimum  wage  laws  force  them  to  pay  more  to 
women  in  certain  states.  Since  the  owners  of  indus- 
try are  strong  and  the  propertyless  are  weak,  the 
results  are  bad. 

In  the  busiest  times  a  million  in  the  United 
States  cannot  get  permission  to  work.  In  normal 
times  about  two  millions  cannot  get  permission  to 
work.  Periodically — four  times  in  the  last  genera- 
tion— the  number  goes  to  horrible  heights.  Now, 
five  or  six  millions  cannot  find  work  to  do.  None 
can  really  be  sure  he  will  have  work  when  he  needs 
it.    Yet  all  are  entitled  to  get  work. 

Before  the  war  at  least  half  of  the  men  working 
for  wages  in  the  United  States  were  not  making 
enough  to  support  a  family  in  decent  comfort. 
There  has  been  little  if  any  improvement  from  that 
day  to  this.  Yet  their  work  is  a  title  to  decent 
family  livelihood. 

XN  addition,  men  and  women  work  usually  in 
large  organizations,  do  monotonous  and  often- 
times dangerous  work,  and  have  very  little 
influence  over  the  methods  of  their  work.  A  very 
large  part  of  them  work  for  owners  who  are 
"absentees."  Most  of  them  are  able  to  read  and 
write  and  have  been  taught  by  centuries  of 
Christianity  and,  in  recent  times,  a  century  or  so 
of  political  democracy  to  consider  that  a  human 
being  is  worth  while  and  in  fundamentals  is  equal 
to  every  other  human  being,  and  that  he  has  certain 
inalienable  rights. 

They  are  very  weak  when  they  go  out  to  make  a 


THE  1*  SIGN 


livelihood  for  themselves  and  their  families.  They 
are  often  refused  the  permission.  When  they  get 
permission,  a  large  part  of  them  get  in  return  for 
their  work  less  than  a  decent  livelihood  and  only 
a  few  get  much  more.  They  resent  such  treatment 
because  it  means  unnecessary  physical  hardship  in 
a  rich  country.  They  resent  it  because  it  is  opposed 
to  their  dignity  and  worth  as  human  beings. 

Home  is  harmed.  The  perpetual  uncertainty 
of  being  able  to  get  permission  to  work,  the  fre- 
quent failure  to  receive  the  permission,  the  low 
wages  paid  when  they  can  work — these  are  trans- 
formed into  uncomfortable  and  even  wretched 
houses,  into  the  temptation  to  commit  birth  control, 
into  sickness  and  death,  into  child  labor  and  a  short 
schooling,  into  long  delayed  marriages,  and  into 
numberless  other  evils. 

The  strength  of  a  few,  and  the  weakness  of 
the  masses  when  they  go  to  make  a  living  for  them- 
selves, mean  strength  and  weakness  in  nearly  all  of 
social  life.  One  side  is  pitted  against  the  other,  and 
there  is  a  standing  denial  of  brotherhood.  It  is 
creating  warring  castes. 

A  strong  minority  and  a  weak  majority  in 
industry  make  an  unreliable  foundation  for  the 
majority  rule  in  government.     In  other  words,  be- 


cause of  the  labor  problem,  we  have  an  unreliable 
foundation  for  political  democracy. 

Our  having  a  labor  problem  is  a  sign  that  our 
Christianity  is  weak.  Wholesale  injustice  and 
systematic  denial  of  brotherhood  could  not  live  in 
Christian  air.  Nor  can  Christianity  thrive  in  an 
atmosphere  poisoned  by  systematic  and  wholesale 
injustice  and  contempt  of  brotherhood. 

Our  having  a  labor  problem  is  a  sign  that  our 
American  principles  are  weak.  Approximate 
equality  of  opportunity,  respect  for  human  dignity, 
freedom  within  a  just  law,  brotherhood  even  though 
it  was  only  the  passing  comradeship  of  the  pioneer — 
these  are  not  maintained  as  long  as  we  have  a  labor 
problem. 

Because  of  the  labor  problem  we  have  strikes 
and  rumors  of  strikes.  Because  of  it  we  have  social 
legislation.  Because  of  it  much  of  our  charitable 
work  is  in  such  demand.  Because  of  it,  too,  some 
want  to  do  away  entirely  with  the  right  of 
owning  the  means  of  work  and  livelihood.  Because 
of  it  some  call  for  revolution. 

This  labor  problem  must  be  met  and  solved. 
Otherwise,  as  Catholics  and  as  Americans,  we 
remain  in  the  wrong. 


Why    Lent? 


/^f^TER  upon  the  season  of  Lent  with  a  clear 
\2a  idea  °f  its  purpose  and  in  the  right  spirit.  He 
is  a  poor  Christian  who  thinks  of  it  only  as  a 
period  during  which  he  has  to  mortify  his  appetite. 
The  Church  heralds  Lent  with  the  antiphon :  "When 
you  fast,  be  not  as  the  hypocrites,  sad."  Here  our 
Lord  Himself  suggests  the  high  motive.  He  does 
not  discourage  sadness — only  the  sadness  of  the 
hypocrite.  The  wholesome  sort  of  sadness  we  should 
cultivate  implies  generous  self-denial  and,  better 
still,  sympathy  for  Him  engendered  by  the  daily 
contemplation  of  His  Passion  and  Death  and  the 
realization  of  what  it  cost  Him  to  save  our  souls. 

Regarding  self-denial,  our  solicitude  should 
first  be  directed  to  the  Church's  laws  covering 
fasting  and  abstinence.  Because  of  the  serious 
penalty  involved,  we  should  form  our  conscience 
as  to  our  obligation  or  exemption  under  those  laws. 
Compliance  with  these  laws,  however,  and   faith- 


fulness in  the  voluntary  curtailment  of  distracting 
amusements  should  be  actuated  by  generous 
motives  which  will  render  them  all  the  more 
meritorious  and  easier  to  bear.  Such  generous 
motives  spring  spontaneously  from  earnest  medita- 
tion on  the  sufferings  of  our  Lord. 

The  Savior  Himself  has  revealed  to  His  Saints 
how  much  more  pleasing  to  Him  is  one  tear  of 
sympathy  for  His  Passion  and  of  compunction  for 
our  sins  than  long  periods  of  corporal  penance. 
Your  plan  for  Lent,  therefore,  should  include  daily 
assisting  at  Mass,  which  is  the  re-presentation  of 
His  oblation  on  the  Cross,  frequent  reception  of 
the  Eucharist,  which  is  the  memorial  of  His  Passion, 
and  a  daily  journey  with  Him  along  the  Way  of 
the  Cross.  Help  to  make  your  meditation  interest- 
ing, vivid  and  fruitful  by  inquiring  Who  is  He 
that  suffers?  What  does  He  suffer?  For  whom 
does  He  suffer? 


Saints   and  Sinners 

Luis  Coloma,  S.  J. 
Copyrighted  1921,  by  The  Sign 


Ckapter  7 


M^^^HE  Marquis  of  Butron  was  a  mediocrity 
a  C\  who  passed  as  a  great  man  in  a  time  and 
^  J  under  circumstances  when  great  men  were 
^^^  few  and  far  between.  Majestic  as  he 
might  appear  to  the  public  eye,  he  was  no  hero  to 
his  valet;  for  one  of  his  many  weaknesses  consisted 
in  the  dyeing  of  his  beard,  which  was  supremely 
white,  to  match  the  inky  blackness  of  his  hair.  The 
worthy  diplomat  was  engaged  in  this  important  task 
when  Curra's  messenger  reached  him.  The  hairy 
gentleman  suffered  complete  loss  of  head,  and  filled 
with  misgivings  over  the  Countess's  duplicities, 
hurriedly  ordered  a  cab,  and  drove  to  the  house  of 
that  strayed  sheep,  whom  it  was  so  necessary  to  keep 
within  the  Alfonsist  fold,  quite  forgetting  that  his 
but  partially-dyed  beard  would  reveal  his  precious 
secret  to  those  expert  tongues  who  so  loved  to  tear 
their  friends  to  pieces. 

His  arrival  caused  a  sensation  among  his 
friends  who  thronged  the  palace,  and  all,  men  as 
well  as  women,  thronged  from  the  dining-room  to 
greet  him.  His  presence  lent  to  this  sordid  affair 
a  certain  importance  and  color,  which  Curra  had 
carefully  calculated  when  she  had  sent  for  him.  He 
signaled  his  entrance  by  dramatically  folding  Curra 
to  his  bosom  and  by  imparting  with  a  vague  motion 
of  his  hand  a  blessing  to  the  frightened  children 
who  clung  firmly  to  their  governess'  skirts. 

The  ladies  sympathized  with  his  emotion  in  a 
voluble  chorus,  till  Carmen  Tagle  noticed  the  diplo- 
mat's undyed  beard.  She  burst  out  laughing,  and 
drew  the  attention  of  her  nearest  neighbor  to  the 
defect;  who  passed  the  word  on  to  the  person 
next  her;  so  that  very  soon  a  chorus  of  suppressed 
laughter  played  havoc  with  the  pathetic  part  of  the 
scene. 

Butron,  oblivious  to  all  this,  led  Curra  into  an 
adjoining  room.  He  was  perspiring  profusely, 
positively  suffering  from  a  fear  that  this  latest 
whim  of  the  Countess  might  result  in  the  wreckage 
of  his  carefully  prepared  plans.  Glancing  in  this 
direction  and  in  that,  terrified,  as  though  searching 
for  the  police  who  held  the  house  in  firm  possession, 
he  said  to  Curra  in  a  low  voice :  "What  is  the  mean- 
ing of  all  this?" 

Curra  threw  herself  on  the  nearest  sofa,  and 
covering  her  face  with  her  handkerchief:  "I  am 
lost!"    she  cried. 

Butron  shuddered  visibly.  "Ferdinand  is  a 
fool!"      continued    the     Countess.      "Martin    has 


deceived  him.  Ferdinand  has  compromised  me, 
Butron:  it  is  horrible!" 

"Speak  softly!"  said  the  agitated  Marquis. 
"Calm  yourself;  calm  yourself.  You  can  depend 
on  me  for  anything,  for  everything."  And  he 
squeezed  Curra's  hand  to  emphasize  his  loyalty  and 
devotion. 

"I  know  that  Butron;  I  know  it.  That  is  the 
reason  why  I  immediately  sent  for  you.  But  this 
is  awful!  Imagine,  Butron,  all  that  they  have  said 
about  my  appointment  as  first  lady-in-waiting  is 
true." 

"True!"    cried  the  horrified  Marquis. 

"Ferdinand  wrote  to  the  Minister  asking  that 
I  be  appointed — without  even  consulting  me.  It 
is  shameful.  It  is  too  much,  Butron!  Were  it  not 
for  the  children  I  would  demand  a  divorce !" 

And  Curra  wept  bitterly. 

"Did  you  see  the  letter?"  gasped  the  horrified 
Marquis. 

"See  it?  Of  course  I  saw  it!  That  ox  of  a 
Minister,  Don  Martin,  threatened  in  my  very 
presence  to  publish  it  in  all  the  papers  if  I  would 
not  accept  the  position.  What  could  I  do?  I 
implored  him  not  to  do  it.  He  was  firm  and  brutally 
rude.  Then,  as  a  last  resource,  I  offered  him  money 
— money,  Butron!  He  began  to  soften.  He 
demanded  three,  then  five  thousand  duros — haggling 
like  a  Jew!  We  closed  the  bargain.  Last  night  he 
came  for  payment ;  and  received  payment.  I  did  not 
have  enough  money,  Butron:  I  had  to  pawn  some 
jewels." 

The  Marquis  listened  to  this  clever  string  of 
lies,  carefully  intermixed  with  a  few  vague  truths, 
astonished  and  scandalized.  With  the  gesture  of  a 
horrified  Cato,  he  cried:  This  is  nauseating!" 

"But  that  is  not  all,  Butron.  Listen!  At  one 
o'clock  this  morning  that  creature  gives  me  the 
letter.  At  ten  o'clock  he  sends  these  police  to  search 
the  house  to  secure  the  letter,  and  yet  keep  my 
money!" 

"But  have  they  got  it?"  cried  Butron  in  con- 
sternation. 

"Ba!  They  would  have  my  life  first.  I  had 
just  enough  time  to  tear  it  to  pieces  and  throw  it 
down  the  drain  of  the  bath." 

"Brrr!"  shuddered  Butron,  and  walked  rapidly 
to  and  fro  as  though  to  collect  his  scattered  wits, 
while  Curra  watched  him  out  of  the  corner  of  her 
eye,  sighing  nervously  every  now  and  again. 


10 


THE  1*  SIGN 


©UTRON  was  convinced  that  the  lady  was  a 
trickster;  yet  what  she  had  just  told  him 
seemed  the  only  credible  explanation  of  the 
visit  of  the  police.  Why  should  they  be  searching 
the  house  otherwise?  But  while  he  might  doubt 
Curra  in  the  depths  of  his  mind,  it  was  not  diplo- 
macy to  let  that  lady  see  his  hesitation.  He  stopped 
suddenly  in  front  of  her,  and  said  solemnly:  "We 
must  make  a  protest  against  this  outrage:  one  that 
will  arouse  the  feelings  of  the  people. 

"Butron,  I  am  prepared  for  anything.  I  dis- 
like all  this  publicity,"  Curra  added  pathetically, 
"but  I  shall  sacrifice  that  to  the  cause.  All  that  I 
ask  of  you,  Butron,  is  that  you  write  the  Queen 
Mother  in  Paris  and  tell  her  what  is  happening. 
I  am  always  so  afraid  of  the  slanders  of  this  Madrid! 
And  that  Isabel  Mazacan  has  such  a  tongue :  she 
is  frightfully  envious  of  me!" 

The  Marquis  stood  majestically  in  front  of  her, 
and  striking  his  breast,  said:  "Confide  in  me, 
Curra!     I  shall  bear  all  the  responsibility." 

Just  then  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door  and  a 
butler  announced  that  the  chief  of  police  had  com- 
pleted his  registration  of  the  papers  and  wished 
to  present  his  apologies  for  having  caused  Madame 
such  disturbance.  "No,  no!"  cried  Curra.  "I  want 
none  of  that  man's  apologies." 

"Tell  him,"  added  the  Marquis  with  Olympic 
majesty,"  that  the  Countess  reserves  all  her  rights 
to  protest  against  this  outrage.  Tell  him  that  the 
Spanish  aristocracy  and  all  honorable  people  are 
on  her  side,  and  that  all  will  rally  round  her  to 
protect  her!" 

The  butler  left  with  these  messages,  and  Butron 
rejoined  the  crowd  in  the  other  rooms,  scattering 
praises  of  Curra's  loyalty  and  constancy  under 
afflicition  for  the  sacred  cause.  "She  is  admirable. 
A  heroine,  like  Mariana  Pinda!  Admirable, 
admirable!" 

The  old  man  who  was  employed  by  Villamelon 
in  his  accountant's  office  came  downstairs  and  pre- 
sented to  Curra  a  large  document  which  he  carried 
with  him.  The  chief  of  police  had  read  every 
letter  and  paper  he  could  find :  the  registration  had 
been  thorough.  He  had  placed  on  one  side  every- 
thing that  could  bear  interpretation  of  conspiracy 
against  the  government,  in  order  to  present  them 
to  the  Governor  of  the  province  for  inspection. 
The  prudent  old  man  had  secured  a  receipt  for  all 
the  letters  and  papers  which  the  chief  had  carried 
off,  and  this  was  the  document  he  now  presented 
to  Curra. 

"Is  there  anything  important?"  asked  Butron 
cautiously,  reading  the  list  over  Curra's  shoulders. 

"Nothing!"  she  answered.  But  she  gazed  with 
amazement  on  a  part  of  the  inventory  which  read: 
"A  package  of  twenty-five  letters,  tied  with  pink 
ribbon." 

Butron  took  the  floor  again.  The  danger  was 
over,  at  least  temporarily.  But  it  was  necessary  to 
awaken  the  populace  to  protest  against  this  latest 


m1 


outrage  of  the  government.  Here  was  an  excellent 
opportunity  for  a  really  justified  protest.  Therefore, 
he  begged  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  present  to  honor 
him  with  their  presence  at  a  ball  to  be  given  by 
himself  in  Curra's  honor  the  following  night;  a  ball 
of  a  purely  political  character.  The  ladies  must 
wear  in  their  hair  the  fleur-de-lis,  and  the  gentlemen 
a  blue  and  white  ribbon  in  the  lapels  of  their  coats, 
the  colors  of  the  exiled  Bourbons.  He  in  the  mean- 
time would  see  to  it  that  the  anti-government  papers 
seized  the  opportunity  to  conduct  a  vicious  campaign 
against  this  tyrannous  and  meddlesome  government. 
They  had  in  this  action  of  the  police  a  magnificent 
cause  for  protest.  And  the  Government  could  make 
no  answer.    There  was  no  defence. 

The  enthusiasm  of  the  crowd  was  indescribable; 
but  with  the  departure  of  the  police  from  the  house, 
much  of  the  interest  in  the  immediate  occasion  had 
also  departed,  and  they  gradually  dispersed,  voluble 
and  enthusiastic,  thinking  that  they  could  overturn 
a  throne  with  a  few  waves  of  their  fans  or  a  flourish 
of  their  canes. 

[EANWHILE  Curra  went  in  search  of  the  old 
accountant. 

'Tell  me,  Don  Pablo,  from  where  were 
those  twenty-five  letters?" 

"I  do  not  know,  Madame."  he  replied.  "The 
chief  read  but  three  or  four,  and  then  put  them  aside 
with  a  laugh  that  set  me  thinking." 

"But  where  were  they?" 

"In  the  little  antique  chest,  in  a  secret  drawer, 
in  Madame's  cabinet." 

"In  the  chest  in  the  boudoir?"  said  Curra,  still 
more  surprised.  "But  that  was  empty!  Come  with 
me." 

In  the  corner  of  her  boudoir  was  an  antique 
little  cabinet  of  carved  ebony  ornamented  richly 
with  tortoise-shell,  silver  and  bronze.  Curra  raised 
the  lid  and  releasing  the  springs  which  opened 
numerous  little  secret  drawers,  asked:  "But  where 
were  those  letters?" 

"Here  below,"  said  Don  Pablo.  He  pressed 
another  secret  spring  and  a  little  drawer  opened, 
letting  escape  as  it  did  so  an  odor  of  faded  violets. 

"Ah!"  said  Curra.  "I  had  forgotten  that. 
"And  putting  her  hand  inside,  she  drew  out  a  bunch 
of  dead  violets.  She  looked  at  this  with  a  perplexed 
air  for  a  moment,  as  though  trying  to  remember 
something.  Suddenly  she  became  serious,  and  with 
the  anxious  face  of  one  who  fears  an  approaching 
catastrophe,  murmured:  "Ah!  Something  must  be 
done  at  once.  This  would  prove  disastrous." 
*     *     *     * 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
^^HE  news  that  the  police  had  invaded  Vil- 
L)  lamelon's  palace  caused  surprise  and  annoy- 
^*"^  ance  to  the  Government,  and  presented  the 
Civil  Governor  of  Madrid  with  a  pretty  kettle  of 
fish  that  same  afternoon.  The  Government  was 
ignorant  of  the  reason  for  the  violent  action  taken 


THE  1*  SIGN 


by  the  Governor  and  was  still  anxious  to  press  the 
post  of  first  lady-in-waiting  upon  the  Countess  of 
Albornoz  in  spite  of  the  half  comic,  half  dramatic 
scene  between  that  lady  and  Don  Martin  the  day 
before.  For,  notwithstanding  the  cunning  moves 
of  that  lady,  the  arrangements  of  the  Countess  with 
the  Government  were  firm  and  positive,  as  Isabel 
Mazacan  had  declared  two  days  before  at  the 
Duchess  of  Bara's  house.  Curra,  who  had  bitterly 
resented  what  she  had  thought  was  the  intended 
insult  of  the  abdicated  Queen,  had  determined  to 
go  over  to  the  enemy's  camp,  in  this  way  securing 
typically  feminine  vengeance,  and  at  the  same  time 
realizing  her  ambition  to  make  everyone  talk  about 
her.  The  new  king  was  both  young  and  handsome, 
and,  once  within  his  circle,  she  had  hoped  to  be  able 
to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  two  people  for  whom 
she  had  an  intense  admiration,  Mademoiselle  de  la 
Valliere  and  the  Princess  of  the  Ursines. 

It  had  cost  her  a  good  deal  to  secure  the  help 
of  Villamelon  for  her  plans,  for  the  latter  obstinate- 
ly talked  about  his  honor  and  of  his  firm  intention 
to  live  and  die  faithful  to  the  fallen  dynasty. 
Curra  finally  succeeded  in  securing  his  aid,  and 
persuaded  him  to  open  cautious  negotiations  with 
Don  John  Antony  Martin  and  the  Minister  of 
Ultramar,  both  persons  whom  she  had  previously 
and  traitorously  attracted  to  her  house,  without  a 
thought  for  the  criticisms  of  her  aristocratic  friends. 

The  commission  was  an  easy  one  considering 
the  anxiety  at  Court  to  fill  the  post  with  a  Grandee 
of  Spain.  Villamelon,  however,  made  his  mistake 
by  running  contrary  to  Curra's  express  injunctions. 
She  had  warned  him  to  write  nothing  while  negoti- 
ating the  affair;  but  he,  stupid  and  fearing  to  miss 
an  appointment  which  he  had  with  a  certain 
questionable  widow  at  the  same  time  that  he  had 
an  appointment  with  the  Minister,  sent  instead  of 
himself  the  fatal  letter.  This  had  caused  the 
extraordinary  complications  which  we  have  narrated. 
In  the  meantime,  the  Queen's  letter  had  arrived, 
and  Curra  with  her  usual  impudence,  denied  what 
she  had  done  and  left  the  Court  in  the  lurch  and 
her  husband  on  the  horns  of  an  unpleasant  dilemma. 
But  still  not  entirely  satisfied  with  the  affair,  and  in 
order  to  terminate  any  ugly  rumors  about  it,  she  had 
adopted  the  plan  of  denouncing  herself  to  the 
Governor,  writing  him  an  anonymous  letter,  in  which 
she  produced  proofs  that  the  Countess  of  Albornoz 
and  the  Marquis  of  Butron  were  engaged  in  a 
plot  against  the  Government,  important  papers 
being  in  the  former's  possession.  The  unwary 
Governor  fell  for  the  letter,  and  we  have  already 
witnessed  the  success  of  the  daring  plans  of  this 
illustrious  conspirator,  whose  intrigues  stirred  up 
so  much  commotion  at  the  Court. 

^^HE  raid  by  the  police  forever  guaranteed 
I)  Curra's  loyalty  to  the  Alfonsist  cause,  giving 
^"^  her  such  an  important  position  in  the  Alfonsist 
party  that  it  would  put  her  beyond  all  reach  of  the 


Amadist  court.  So  His  Excellency  Don  John  Antony 
Martin  well  understood,  and  his  rage  against  the 
Governor  was  supreme.  He  demanded  an  explana- 
tion of  him.  The  unfortunate  Governor,  with  infinite 
care  concealing  the  fact  that  it  was  but  an  anonymous 
letter  whch  had  started  his  campaign,  pompously 
affirmed  the  existence  of  a  great  Alfonsist  plot  of 
which  the  Countess  of  Albornoz  and  the  Marquis  of 
Butron  were  the  leaders. 

"I  know  all  about  that!"  announced  His  Excel- 
lency, still  gasping  from  his  wound.  And  he  told 
the  Governor  the  story  of  the  episode  of  the  letter 
and  its  destruction,  which  had  forced  his  Cabinet 
colleagues  to  scream  with  laughter  in  his  very  face. 
The  Governor  bit  his  lips  and  began  to  think  that 
he  had  made  a  general  mess  of  things.  His  own 
anger  at  this  whole  ludicrous,  but  still  serious,  affair 
was  checked,  however,  by  the  entrance  of  the  chief 
of  police  bearing  the  papers  found  in  Curra's  house. 

These  he  tore  from  the  individual's  hand,  and 
the  first  paper  which  he  saw  was  written  in  Curra's 
own  handwritting,  first  large,  then  small,  changed 
as  much  as  possible  while  she  had  written  the 
cryptic  phrase :  "What  an  extraordinary  animal 
man  is!  "A  sudden  idea  struck  the  Governor.  He 
hurriedly  sought  the  anonymous  letter  of  denuncia- 
tion which  he  had  received,  and  compared  its 
writing  with  one  of  those  on  the  paper  he  had  just 
received.  They  were  identical!  It  was  proved  that 
the  Countess  of  Albornoz  was  a  clever  intrigante, 
but  also  that  the  Governor  of  Madrid  was  a  first- 
class  fool!  He  cursed  and  stamped  around  the 
room,  while  Don  Martin,  delighted  that  someone 
beside  himself  had  been  made  a  fool  of  by  Curra, 
laughed  heartily  and  jeered  at  his  perspicacity  in 
discovering  plots  dangerous  to  the  State. 

Under  these  taunts,  the  Governor's  mind  formed 
thoughts  of  vengeance.  Looking  through  the  papers 
to  find  something  incriminating  on  which  to  base 
whatever  unpleasant  actions  he  might  be  able  to 
take  against  Curra,  his  vengeance  was  suddenly 
assured. 

Among  the  papers  he  discovered  twenty-five 
letters  bound  in  a  package  with  pink  ribbon. 

The  evening  before,  when  Curra  anticipating 
the  raid,  had  destroyed  all  possible  incriminating 
papers  of  whatever  discription,  she  had  overlooked 
this  package  of  letters,  hidden  in  a  secret  drawer 
of  her  little  cabinet,  which  she  had  not  opened  for 
a  long  time.  In  this  drawer  had  lain  hidden  for 
more  than  three  years  a  series  of  letters  from  a 
certain  Andalusian  artillery  captain,  of  good  family, 
most  haughty  disposition,  and  with  no  shame,  and 
who  had  preceded  John  Velarde  in  the  confidential 
post  which  the  latter  now  held  at  Curra's  house. 

The  triumphant  Governor  asked  Don  John 
Martin  whether  it  would  not  be  a  clever  idea  to 
publish  these  letters  in  the  newspapers  which  sup- 
ported the  present  Government.  At  first  Don  Martin 
hesitated,  suggesting  that  the  letters  must  be  return- 
ed to  the  Countess,  since  the  chief  of  police  had 


12 


THE  +  SIGN 


given  a  receipt  for  them.  The  Governor  admitted 
this,  and  changed  his  plans  accordingly. 

"Well,  Excellency,  why  not  return  the  letters 
to  the  lady's  husband,  instead  of  sending  them  to 
her  direct?  It  is  the  only  way  in  which  we  can  in 
this  affair  perform  a  real  work  of  mercy,  that  of 
enlightening  the  ignorant!" 

"Magnificent!"  cried  Don  Martin,  delighted 
with  the  Machiavellian  astuteness  of  the  Governor. 

So  the  chief  of  police  wrote  a  polite  note  to 
the  Marquis  of  Villamelon,  expressing  his  regret 
about  the  incidents  of  that  day,  and  stating  that 
he  was  returning  all  the  papers  which  the  police 
had  removed,  requesting  him  carefully  to  read  all, 
especially  the  twenty-five  letters  in  the  bound 
package,  to  make  sure  that  all  had  been  properly 
returned  and  in  good  order 

^^^HE  afternoon  papers  of  that  day,  which  sup- 
L)  ported  the  Alfonsist  cause,  made  much  of  the 
^^^  raid  upon  the  Marquis  of  Villamelon's 
mansion.  The  government  was  denounced  as 
tyrannous,  incapable,  foolish,  and  unworthy  of  the 
support  of  the  people.  All  ended  in  a  triumphant 
note  demanding  what  possible  defense  could  the 
Government  make  for  a  raid  which  had  resulted  in 
nothing  but  annoyance  to  two  most  estimable  mem- 
bers of  two  of  Spain's  greatest  families,  and  which 
had  upset  the  entire  city  for  no  other  purpose  than 
to  quiet  the  Government's  excited  nerves  and  foolish 
suspicions  of  conspiracies  and  intrigues  against  its 
own  manifest  impotence  and  folly. 

"The  villainous  attempt  of  the  Government," 
said  one  opposition-sheet,"  is  but  the  first  step 
taken  toward  the  Terror.  A  peaceful  home  has 
been  sacrilegiously  invaded  out  of  sheer  imbecility. 
But,  let  us  hope,  that  already 

The   Castilian  lion 

Shakes  his  mane.  . ." 


^^^HIS,  and  the  praise  which  other  opposition 
1^  )  papers  heaped  upon  her,  Curra  read  with 
^"^  avidity.  She  was  delighted  with  the  titles 
they  bestowed  upon  her:  Mary  Stuart,  a  modern 
Ophelia,  and  the  Angel  of  the  Guillotine.  To  add 
to  her  satisfaction,  the  editor  of  a  leading  review 
of  Spain  called  upon  her,  sent  by  the  Marquis  of 
Butron,  and  asked  for  the  great  honor  of  an  inter- 
view with  the  heroic  Countess,  as  well  as  photo- 
graphs of  her  and  her  family,  her  palace,  the  scene 
of  the  latest  Government  outrage,  with  which  to 
embellish  an  article  he  proposed  to  have  in  the 
coming  number  of  his  journal. 

"Certainly,"  replied  Curra,  only  too  well 
pleased."  The  Marquis  is  a  very  fine  photographer 
himself,  and  will  be  glad  to  take  them  for  you." 

And  she  immediately  sent  a  message  to 
Villamelon  requesting  him  to  come  to  the  salon 
where  she  was.  The  servant  returned  with  the 
information:  "The  Marquis  had  ordered  his  victoria 


at  four  o'clock,  and  had  not  as  yet  returned  home." 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  Villamelon  was  at  that 
very  moment  much  troubled  by  a  mysterious  doubt 
which  he  was  vainly  trying  to  solve.  He  had 
received  the  Governor's  note,  had  read  it  tranquilly, 
and  proceeded  out  of  curiosity  to  look  the  returned 
papers  over.  He  read  the  first  of  the  twenty-five 
letters  in  the  package  without  understanding  what 
it  was  all  about;  but  in  the  second  he  came  across 
the  following,  in  the  hand  of  the  captain  of  artillery: 
"As  for  your  husband,  would  it  not  be  well  to 
suppress  the  Villa,  and  leave  the  melon?  It  is 
already  proved  that  the  poor  man  belongs  to  the 
Cucurbitaceous  family!" 

He  read  no  further,  but  sat  with  wide-open 
mouth.  Then,  suddenly  he  leapt  up,  entered  his 
dressing  room,  seized  a  slender  bamboo  cane  with 
silver  handle,  which  cut  the  air  with  hisses  like  a 
serpent's,  and  rushed  off  to  the  apartment  of  the 
new  Mary  Stuart,  threatening  her  with  a  severe 
whipping  instead  of  the  historic  headman's  block. 

But  the  Countess  was  not  destined  to  receive 
such  punishment.  On  the  way  to  her  apartment,  a 
large  Kamschatka  dog  ran  to  meet  Villamelon, 
wagging  his  tail  affectionately.  The  Marquis  gazed 
at  him  for  a  moment  solemnly,  and  then  showered 
on  the  unfortunate  animal  a  hail-storm  of  blows 
which  had  been  intended  for  his  wife.  Panting  and 
perspiring,  he  staggered  back  into  his  room, 
hurriedly  undressed,  and  went  to  bed. 

Ten  minutes  after  he  got  up  again  and  ordered 
the  victoria.  He  went  to  the  Casino,  and  then  to  the 
Veloz,  at  both  of  which  places  he  was  showered 
under  congratulations  over  the  event  which  the 
whole  of  Madrid  was  now  discussing.  Disregarding 
these,  he  whispered  in  the  ears  of  some  prudent 
friends  a  certain  mysterious  question.  Some 
laughed  at  him,  others  shrugged  their  shoulders; 
all  answered  him  no,  but  Villamelon  still  pursued 
his  quest.  Finally,  in  a  private  room  of  the  Veloz 
club  he  met  an  old  man  with  thick  white  hair  and 
long  white  beard,  more  worthy  of  the  head  and 
countenance  of  King  Lear  than  of  his  own  red  and 
pimply  face,  in  which  vice  had  left  its  indelible 
imprint.  His  haughty  air  of  a  great  noble  contrasted 
ill  with  his  worn  and  abandoned  clothes.  He  was 
seated  at  a  table  with  a  large  bottle  of  gin,  which  he 
drank  slowly  from  a  large  glass,  now  and  again 
throwing  in  lumps  of  sugar.  His  name  was  Peter 
Vedar.  He  was  the  second  son  of  a  great  and  noble 
family,  lived  by  gambling  when  he  was  sober,  and 
had  made  himself  notorious  in  Madrid  by  his 
cynicism  and  scurrilous  stories,  everyone  knowing 
him  by  the  name  of  Diogenes.  He  had  finally 
leached  the  position  of  being  considered  but  an 
original  eccentric,  and  having  secured  that  title, 
could  do  or  say  anything  he  pleased  without  fear  of 
offending  anyone.  For  people  merely  shrugged  their 
shoulders,  and  said:  "Ah,  more  of  Diogenes' 
absurdities!" 


THE  T  SIGN 


OIOGENES  realized  his  unique  position  all  too 
well,  and  said  the  most  outrageous  things  to 
everybody,  with  bitter  home-thrusts  which  his 
innate  cleverness  and  worldly  experience  always 
prompted.  He  was  a  peripetetic  plaster  which 
raised  blisters  wherever  he  went.  The  innocent 
Villamelon,  engrossed  in  the  pursuit  of  information, 
approached  him,  and  after  exchanging  a  few  words 
which  gave  Diogenes  the  opportunity  of  twice  drain- 
ing his  glass,  finally  hurled  the  mysterious  question 
at  him:  "Friend  Diogenes,  you  know  everybody. 
Can  you  tell  me  who  are  the  Cucurbitaceous 
family?" 

Diogenes  looked  Villamelon  over  carefully  from 
head  to  toe,  and  led  him  over  to  a  near-by  mirror: 
"Certainly!  Look  here!"  And  then  shrieked  in 
in  Villamelon's  ear : 

"No  one  should  boast  of  his  illustrious  race 

Who  is  but  a  squash  when  he  should  be  a 
1  melon." 

The  following  day  the  ministerial  papers  broke 
the  silence  they  had  observed  over  the  affair  of  the 
raid,  and  one  of  them  published  a  small  extra,  in 
which  it  could  be  seen  that  the  Amadists  were 
lifting  a  corner  of  the  veil  which  shrouded  the  event 
with  a  clever  exhibition  of  half-hidden  malice,  which 
without  telling  names  directly,  still  pointed  a 
phantom  finger  as  a  guidepost. 

"Yesterday  the  visit  of  the  police  to  the  palace 
of  the  Marquis  of  Villamelon  in  accordance  with  all 
the  forms  of  law  was  the  subject  of  some  rather 
severe  comment  on  the  part  of  the  opposition  papers. 
By  a  truly  lamentable  mistake  on  the  part  of  the 
police,  among  the  political  papers  of  great  import- 
ance which  were  carried  away,  were  some  important 
letters  of  a  purely  domestic  nature.  The  Governor 
kindly,  and  at  once,  returned  these  papers  to  the 
Marquis  of  Villamelon,  knowing  that  in  conjugal 
affairs  it  is  the  business  of  the  husband  alone  to 
remonstrate.  We  think,  however,  that  the  incident 
will  not  be  followed  by  any  serious  developments, 
taking  into  consideration  the  well-known  prudence 
of  both  the  parties  concerned." 

And  further  on: 

"To  everyone's  surprise,  the  Marquis  of  Butron 
hurried  to  the  scene,  with  his  budding  beard  com- 
pletely white,  that  beard  which  is  under  ordinary 
circumstances  as  black  as  a  crow's  wings.  It  cannot 
be  that  the  Marquis's  agitation  was  so  great  that  it 
turned  his  beard  white  all  of  a  sudden.  We  can 
readily  believe  that  he  had  forgotten  certain  chemi- 
cal ingredients  of  his  toilet,  probably  from  not  being 
acquainted  with  the  following  anecdote: 

"When  Charles  V.  was  once  visiting  a  famous 
monastery  in  Germany,  he  saw  a  monk  whose  beard 
was  black  and  his  head  completely  white.  He  asked 
the  monk  the  reason  of  this  strange  phenomenon. 
The  monk  replied:  "Your  Majesty,  I  have  worked 
more  with  my  brains  than  with  my  teeth." 

"Some  months  afterwards,  a  Polish  ambassador, 
who  had  a  white  beard  and  black  hair,  presented 


himself  to  the  Emperor.  Charles  remembered  the 
monk's  remark,  and  said  to  his  courtiers:  "Here  is 
an  ambassador  who  has  worked  more  with  his  teeth 
than  with  his  brains." 

"We  hope  that  the  illustrious  diplomat  of  whom 
we  speak  will  in  the  future  be  more  cautious,  if  he 
does  not  desire  to  have  people  making  the  remark 
about  him  which  Charles  V.  made  about  the  Polish 
ambassador." 

VILLAMELON  and  Curra  each  read,  on  their 
own  account,  this  unpleasant  editorial.  Both 
took  care  not  to  say  anything  about  it  to  the 
other;  for  Curra  found  it  more  prudent  to  play 
innocent,  while  the  Marquis  thought  it  wiser  to 
pretend  that  he  understood  nothing  of  the  whole 
affair.  Curra  also  had  her  hands  full  to  pacify  the 
indignant  John  Velarde  who  demanded  an  explan- 
ation of  these  cryptic  affairs.  The  date  of  the  letters 
alone  was  sufficient  to  pacify  him,  and  he  then  lent 
generous  assistance  to  her  in  her  efforts  to  lesson 
the  breach  which  threatened  to  stretch  between  her 
and  her  husband.  Velarde  passed  from  one  to  the 
other,  breathing  words  of  peace;  and  peace  was 
finally  established.  That  evening  they  all  three 
dined  together,  in  order  to  go  to  the  Marquis  of 
Butron's  house,  where  Curra  wished  to  present  her 
friend  and  protege,  John  Velarde. 

Meanwhile  the  articles  in  the  Government  news- 
papers flew  through  Madrid  amid  the  scoffiing  and 
sarcasms  of  Capulets  and  Montagues.  The  people 
who  criticized  the  Villamelons  most  eagerly,  strange 
to  say,  were  the  very  men  and  women  who  had 
praised  her  so  highly  at  her  house,  and  who  were 
going  that  very  evening  to  the  ball  in  her  honor  at 
the  Marquis  of  Butron's. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

aY  eleven  o'clock  the  rooms  of  the  Marquis  of 
Butron  were  thronged  with  people  for  the 
ball  in  Curra's  honor,  organized  also  as  a 
protest  against  the  invasion  of  her  home  by  the 
Amadist  police.  The  windows  and  doors  of  the 
house  were  thrown  open,  and  the  over  heated  crowd 
of  guests  appeared  but  a  confused  mass  of  jewels, 
flowers,  beautiful  gowns,  and  half-nude  women, 
among  whom  the  men  revolved  like  a  swarm  of 
black  worms  in  this  jumbled  collection  of  the  world, 
the  flesh  and  the  devil. 

At  a  quarter  before  twelve  the  Countess  of 
Albornoz  arrived.  She  entered,  on  the  arm  of  John 
Velarde,  with  her  husband  trailing  in  the  rear.  The 
Marquis  and  Marchioness  of  Butron,  who  were 
receiving  their  guests  in  the  room  nearest  the  vesti- 
bule, advanced  to  greet  them,  and  while  Villamelon 
presented  Velarde  to  them,  Curra  said  in  her  timid, 
fascinating  child's  voice:  "He  is  a  rascal,  Butron! 
I  can't  say  that  he  is  a  convert;  but  he  is  at  least  a 
catechumen,  who  wears  our  colors  to-day  for  the 
first  time." 


THE  +SIGN 


And  she  pointed  with  her  fan  to  the  small  white 
and  blue  ribbon  which  Velarde  wore  in  his  dress 
coat,  now  that  the  private  secretaryship  to  the  King 
had  been  cast  into  the  limbo  of  forgotten  things. 

Curra's  arrival  had  produced  a  general  sensa- 
tion, in  which  the  winks  and  jests  of  the  grooms  in 
the  vestibule  combined  with  the  malicious  remarks 
which  the  ladies  of  the  drawing-rooms  exchanged 
with  one  another.  But  not  one  of  the  latter  hesitated 
to  press  forward  to  receive  a  pressure  of  the  hand 
and  a  smile  from  the  heroine  of  the  occasion.  They 
then  danced  a  quadrille  in  her  honor,  Curra  with 
Butron  as  her  partner;  Villamelon  with  the 
Marchioness  Butron;  John  Velarde  with  the  Duchess 
of  Astorga,  one  of  the  honorable  women  of  the 
Court. 

The  heat  was  intense,  and  many  of  the  ladies 
took  refuge  in  a  lower  drawing-room,  which 
opened  on  a  garden, 
likewise  crowded,  and 
where  beautiful  Venetian 
lanterns  lighted  a  festive 
scene.  Butlers  passed 
from  guest  to  guest, 
serving  them  on  silver 
platters  with  sorbets  a  la 
Albornoz.  These  were 
delicious  orange  ices, 
served  in  the  skin  of  the 
fruit  itself.  Curra,  with 
the  aid  of  Butron's  chef, 
had  attained  the  Hercu- 
lean pillars  of  feminine 
celebrity. 

"Exquisite!"  ex- 
claimed the  Duchess  of 
Bara,  as  she  helped  her- 
self to  one.  "How  ap- 
propriate —  dear  Curra 
symbolized  by  a  sorbet. 

There  is  no  better  way  of  symbolizing  her  freshness. 
Isn't  that  so,  Diogenes?" 

Diogenes  crept  forward  with  a  pronounced  limp 
and  sank  into  a  chair. 

"I  am  not  well,"  he  said. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?" 

"What's  the  matter  with  him?"  cried  Carmen 
Tagle.    "He  is  filled  with  poison  like  a  poppy!" 

Diogenes  growled  out  some  unpleasant  remark, 
about  cucumber  salad  and  its  effect  on  the  digestion, 
at  which  the  ladies  laughed,  while  Carmen  Tagle 
offered  him  a  sorbet,  saying:  Take  a  Curra  Albornoz 
and  you  will  recover.  Cucumber  salad  is  no  more 
indigestible  than  the  articles  in  the  opposition 
papers,  and  there  is  the  Countess  dancing  away  as 
happily  as  you  please!" 

"I  did  not  think  that  she  would  have  the  impu- 
dence to  come  here  to-night,"  said  one  of  the  women. 

"Bah!    Her  impudence  gets  worse  every  day." 

"Impudence?  What  do  you  mean?"  asked 
Diogenes. 


O] 

2su  of  tke  Thonrj)  Crov^n 

Dom    Theodore  Bailey 

O.S.B. 

O  Jesu  of  the  thorny  crown, 

of  the  svJeet  brov?s  bending  down, 

of  the  parted  lips  and 

pale, 

of  the  fainting  breath 

and  frail, 

of  tke  tear-dimmed  d 

arkened  ey'es, 

of  the  blood-stained  piteous  guise; 

Jesu  1 

Dve,  listen  to  me, 

Sweet 

Jesu,  succour  me. 

"Mean !    I  suppose  that  you  would  defend  her  ?" 

"Why  of  course  I  will  defend  her.  Her  impud- 
ence! It's  her  impudence  that  justifies  her.  Why 
shouldn't  she  come  if  you  are  willing  to  receive 
her?" 

"Well,  I  never!"  exclaimed  another  lady. 
"Wish  you  would  enlighten  us  as  to  what  we  are  to 
do  with  that  type  of  person  in  Madrid?" 

Diogenes  gazed  at  the  speaker:  "Bolt  your 
doors,  or  do  not  complain,  dear  lady.  If  you  lift 
the  top  off  a  cess-pool,  don't  complain  if  there  is 
an  unpleasant  odor!" 


CHAPTER  X. 
>7=CYPOCRISY  is  the  homage  which  vice  pays 
I  I  to  virtue.  It  is  also  true  that  a  false  idea 
*  of  honor  is  the  homage  which  knavery  pays 
to  honesty.  Even  among 
knaves  honor  must  not 
be  impugned,  and  the 
liar  is  always  offended 
when  he  is  accused  of 
lying,  the  thief  when  he 
is  accused  of  stealing, 
while  the  criminal  can 
challenge  on  the  field 
of  honor  the  judge  who 
condemns  him.  So  that 
the  blood  which  blots 
the  conscience  can 
cleanse  the  honor,  and 
men  who  know  no  shame 
are  called  upon  to  decide 
affairs  of  honor.  In  like 
manner  the  Countess  of 
Albornoz  also  had  a  code 
of  honor,  and  the  article 
which  we  have  quoted 
from  one  of  the  opposi- 
tion newspapers  had  profoundly  wounded  it. 

Villamelon  was  unaffected  by  the  raid  of  the 
police,  save  for  the  two  panes  of  glass  in  the  door 
which  they  had  broken :  he  gave  orders  that  these 
should  not  be  mended,  remembering  that  Wellington 
left  untouched  the  panes  broken  in  his  London 
house  by  the  mob,  when  the  populace  one  day  forgot 
Waterloo.  He  tossed  all  the  rest  aside  wearily,  as 
the  mere  trifles  of  a  corrupt  society,  among  those 
quibbles  which  ought  not  to  occupy  the  minds  of 
serious  men.  Curra  likewise  had  taken  offense  at 
nothing  save  that  short  sentence  in  the  paper:  "We 
do  not  think  that  this  affair  will  be  followed  by  any 
serious  developments,  considering  the  well  known 
prudence  of  both  the  parties  concerned."  This 
wounded  her,  and  stung  her  honor,  as  it  suggested 
that  she  was  a  woman  who  lacked  a  knight  to  defend 
her,  a  Jimena  without  a  Cid,  an  insult  to  any  woman, 
especially  one  who  occupied  the  exalted  position 
which  she  held. 

"We'll  see!"  said  the  Countess.     And  immedi- 


THE  *f  SIGN 


ately  appointed  her  friend  John  Velarde  as  her 
defender  and  knight. 

They  had  a  long  interview,  which  lasted  far  into 
the  night,  and  Curra,  saying  farewell  to  him  at  the 
door,  whispered  to  him:  "I  will  order  breakfast  at 
Fornos,  and  lobsters  a  la  Bordelaise." 

Velarde  grimaced,  attempted  to  smile,  and 
walked  off.  He  stopped  to  look  back  as  she  waved 
an  affectionate  farewell,  and  then  walked  slowly 
on  as  though  some  mysterious  force  dragged  him 
on  against  his  will.  The  night  was  beautiful,  and 
Velarde  passed  through  the  twisting  streets  that  lead 
to  the  Plaza  de  Oriente,  wandered  twice  around  its 
paths,  and  finally  sat  down  upon  a  bench  facing 
the  palace. 

By  the  reflection  of  a  single  ray  of  bright  light 
which  cut  the  shadows  around,  he  could  see  the 
sentinels  in  their  sentry-boxes.  As  it  was  Sunday, 
the  gardens  were  crowded  by  people  of  the  lower 
classes,  by  soldiers  and  servants.  Groups  of  children 
played  here  and  there  with  gay  shouts  of  laughter. 


© 


(UT  Velarde  was  oblivious  of  everything. 
With  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  he  drew 
fantastic  figures  in  the  sand  with  his  cane. 
The  following  day  at  dawn  he  must  fight  the  editor 
of  the  paper  which  had  insulted  Curra.  This  is 
what  Curra  had  demanded  of  him,  craving  such  a 
sensation,  eager  for  a  duel  which  would  add  another 
pearl  of  notoriety  to  her  crown.  It  had  been  in 
vain  that  Velarde  had  tried  to  make  her  see  what 
ridicule  this  affair  would  bring  upon  her,  upon 
Villamelon,  and  upon  him.  Curra  had  arranged 
everything  to  her  complete  satisfaction,  and  she  had 
fixed  upon  this  duel  with  that  restless  spirit  of  hers 
which  sought  a  thousand  follies,  and  which  nothing 
satisfied.  Was  it  her  fault  that  Villamelon  was 
worthless  ?  Was  she  going  to  permit  any  newspaper 
to  make  a  fool  of  her?  Would  he,  her  only  friend, 
leave  her  in  the  hopeless  predicament  in  which  she 
found  herself  ?  Were  not  their  lives  united  ?  People 
must  be  made  to  respect  her,  and  to  realize  that  she 
knew  how  to  make  herself  respected.  She  did  not 
ask  for  a  duel  to  the  death.  She  wanted  just  a 
sham  duel;  a  couple  of  shots,  and  then  they  would 
go  to  breakfast  at  Fornos.  She  would  attend  to  the 
breakfast,  and  would  order  lobster  a  la  Bordelaise, 
John's  favorite  dish.  Could  she  do  more?  Was 
there  anything  strange  in  her  request. 

"Absolutely  nothing!"  thought  the  chosen 
knight,  as  he  traced  figures  in  the  sand.  But  he 
already  seemed  to  hear  the  echo  of  the  shots  and 
the  ghost  of  the  first  crime  came  into  his  mind. 
Then  came  the  idea  of  death,  and  lastly  that  of  hell, 
where  there  is  neither  peace,  rest,  nor  hope,  only 
everlasting  hatred,  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth. 
Velarde  tried  to  laugh  at  this  idea,  but  the  laugh 
would  not  come  to  his  lips.  For  this  man  was  not 
vicious;  he  was  only  a  boy  illusioned  by  the  great 


world,  which  had  gone  to  his  head  like  strong  wine. 

He  had  come  to  Madrid  from  his  province,  the 
eldest  son  of  a  great  but  poor  family,  and  the  doors 
of  this  great  world  had  opened  to  him  at  the  sound 
of  his  name.  And  he  had  thought  that  there  could 
be  nothing  to  be  desired  beyond  this  world  of  gods 
and  goddesses.  He  had  wished  to  occupy  a  niche 
among  them  all  in  his  own  right,  and  chance  and 
his  handsome  face  had  brought  him  to  Curra.  By 
her  he  was  introduced  into  all  the  salons  of  the 
Court,  hoping  to  prepare  himself  for  a  successful 
career  in  that  royal  palace  which  lay  in  front  of 
him.  Curra  was  always  promising  to  assist  him, 
and,  the  evening  before,  the  Marquis  of  Butron  had 
also  offered  his  help. 

Velarde  looked  up  from  the  ground  to  the 
palace  which  lay  in  front  of  him,  the  palace  of  the 
king  whose  private  secretary  he  had  hoped  to 
become.  How  irritating  it  was  to  have  to  begin 
all  over  again,  to  have  lost  so  much  time!  This 
king  across  the  way  would  go,  and  another  would 
take  his  place.  Yet  who  could  tell?  Perhaps  one 
of  those  shots  on  the  morrow  would  destroy  that 
house  of  cards  which  he  and  Curra  and  the  Marquis 
of  Butron  were  trying  to  build  ?  His  thoughts  were 
suddenly  interrupted  by  a  strident  voice  at  his  side, 
strident  but  modulated  by  a  tone  of  affection  and 
tenderness. 

"What's  the  matter,  mother?"  it  said.  "You 
aren't  taking  any." 

Velarde  turned  around,  and  saw  at  a  little  iron 
table  near-by  a  boy  who  seemed  to  be  a  workman 
with  an  old  woman  who  apparently  was  his  mother. 
There  was  a  glass  of  frozen  orgeat  between  them, 
from  which  both  were  eating,  he  eating  his  share 
eagerly,  while  she  looked  at  him  with  a  quiet  smile, 
scarcely  touching  it,  leaving  him  to  enjoy  and  herself 
to  find  happiness  in  the  content  of  her  son's  pleasure. 

VELARDE  undersrtood  what  this  meant,  and  all 
the  great  happiness  purchased  for  a  few 
coppers.  A  wave  of  sentiment  swept  through 
his  heart.  Suddenly  all  his  past  arose  before  him, 
all  the  bitterness  of  what  was  good  lost  through  his 
mistakes,  and  all  those  dreams  and  beloved  shadows 
of  times  now  gone.  He  thought  of  his  mother  and 
his  little  brothers  and  sisters,  all  crying  when  he 
bid  farewell  to  them  but  three  years  ago.  His 
mother  had  clung  to  him,  as  if  wishing  to  imprint 
his  love  upon  her  heart.  Her  wrinkled  forehead  lay 
on  his  shoulder  and  her  trembling  lips  had  whispered 
in  his  ear:  "John,  my  son!  Be  a  good  boy  and  pray 
to  Our  Lady  of  Regla!  Remember  your  father, 
who  died  like  a  saint!  No  one,  my  son,  can  die 
well  who  does  not  live  as  a  Christian  should!" 

And  then,  later  on  in  the  night,  when  he  was 
packing  his  bag  in  his  room,  the  key  had  turned 
in  the  lock  of  his  door.  He  opened  it,  and  there 
was  his  mother  in  her  stocking  feet. 


THE  +  SIGN 


"What  is  it,  mother?    Is  anything  the  matter?" 

"No,  dear  boy,  nothing.  I  but  wanted  to  see 
you  again,  child  of  my  heart!  You  are  going  away 
to-morrow!" 

And  she  had  whispered  to  him  again,  weeping: 
"Pray  to  Our  Lady  of  Regla,  John!  Be  a  good 
Christian  always,  my  darling  boy!" 

Velarde  felt  ashamed  of  himself,  and  he  cried 
with  his  head  in  his  hands,  weeping  with  all  the 
weakness  of  a  woman  and  all  the  fear  of  a  child. 
His  mother  loved  him!  She  would  not  ask  him  to 
fight  a  duel,  an  offense  against  God, — placing  him 
before  a  pistol,  risking  the  loss  of  his  life,  the  loss 
of  his  soul!  And  he  had  not  seen  her  for  three 
whole  years!  And  he  had  let  two  months  pass 
without  sending  her  a  word,  ungrateful  and  disloyal 
that  he  was!  Velarde  felt  that  he  must  write  her 
at  once,  telling  her  of  that  love  and  sorrow  which 
consumed  him.  He  walked  with  long  strides  to  his 
house,  thinking  of  what  he  would  tell  her,  a  letter 
of  affection  and  hope  and  all  those  things  which  he 
knew  would  amuse  her.  She  had  always  praised 
his  wit  so  heartily.  How  heartily  she  had  laughed 
at  him  when  she  was  teaching  him  his  catechism 
twenty  years  ago,  when  he  had  been  surprised  that 
there  were  but  three  enemies  to  the  soul!  "No 
more?"  he  had  asked  much  astonished;  and  how 
she  had  laughed!  Ah„  how  different  it  was  twenty 
years  later,  as  he  laughed  in  the  midst  of  his  tears! 

XN  the  Calle  de  Arenal  a  boy  stopped  him, 
seeking  to   sell   him   the   tenth   of   a  lottery 
ticket:    "They  draw  to-morrow!"    he   cried. 

Velarde  pushed  him  aside  twice,  the  last  time 
striking  him  with  his  cane;  then  repentant,  turned 
back  and  bought  not  merely  a  tenth,  but  the  entire 
ticket.  If  he  should  win  a  prize,  what  a  lot  of  things 
he  could  do!  And  turning  these  things  over  in  his 
mind,  he  reached  the  Calle  del  Principe,  where  he 
lived.  He  shut  himself  up  in  his  room.  In  a  drawer 
of  his  desk  there  was  a  picture  of  Our  Lady  of 
Regla  which  his  mother  had  given  him  the  day  he 
had  left.  He  stood  it  up  before  him  and  wrote 
steadily  for  two  hours.  He  was  quite  satisfied, 
everything  was  going  well,  and  the  Restoration  was 
certain.    The  Countess  of  Albornoz — 

"No,  no,  no!"  He  could  not  mention  that  name 
in  this  letter!  He  blotted  it  out  and  wrote  in  its 
place  the  Marquis  of  Butron.  The  Marquis  of 
Butron  had  told  him  that  it  would  take  place  within 
the  year,  and  had  promised  him  brilliant  prospects. 
Then  he  could  arrange  about  the  future  of  the  boys. 
Henry  and  Peter  could  come  to  Madrid,  and  little 
Louis,  her  pet,  could  stay  with  her  until  he  graduated 
as  a  Bachelor  of  Arts.  He  was  thinking — could 
she  guess  what  he  was  thinking?  He  was  planning 
to  spend  the  month  of  August  with  them,  staying 


on  until  September  8th.,  when  he  would  make  the 
novena  to  Our  Lady  of  Regla  with  them  all.  Then 
were  questions  without  number,  messages  for  all, 
and  at  last  the  news  which  would  bring  joy  and 
consolation  to  his  mother's  heart.  On  July  3rd., 
the  anniversary  of  his  father's  death,  he  intended 
to  go  to  Confession  and  Communion. 

And  the  poor  lad  wrote  as  he  thought,  praying 
the  while  for  Our  Lady  of  Regla  to  spare  him  from 
the  duel  of  the  morrow;  for  it  was  evident  that  his 
honor  was  already  compromised,  the  whole  affair 
decided  upon,  the  sin  already  committed,  and  that 
it  was  now  too  late  to  retreat.  He  mailed  his  letter, 
and  at  two  o'clock  lay  down;  without  undressing, 
to  wait  for  dawn. 

He  was  tired  from  the  fatigues  of  the  night 
before  at  the  Marquis  of  Butron's  ball,  and  he  soon 
fell  asleep,  dreaming  of  his  mother,  who  led  him 
as  she  used  to  do  to  the  shrine  of  Our  Lady  of 
Regla,  on  a  large  cliff  above  the  sea,  which  broke  in 
impotent  desperation  against  the  rocks  of  the  coast. 

GE  awoke  terrified  at  four  o'clock  when  his 
servant  shook  him  by  the  arm.  Two  gentle- 
men had  come  in  a  carriage  and  were  sur- 
prised to  find  that  he  still  slept.  He  dressed  rapidly, 
and  hurried  downstairs,  nervous  and  upset;  entered 
the  carriage,  which  started  off  without  his  noticing 
which  road  they  followed  and  what  they  were  talk- 
ing about.  Nothing  definite  formed  in  his  mind, 
and  all  that  he  remembered  of  the  journey  was  a 
placard  of  a  bull-fight  on  the  corner  of  a  house, 
and  a  policeman  with  large  white  whiskers  who, 
reminded  him  of  Diogenes,  as  they  passed  through 
the  gate  of  the  Retire  Why  did  this  man  have  side- 
whiskers  and  no  moustache?  He  was  pursued  by 
this  thought,  and  again  returned  vaguely  to  the 
question  an  hour  later  when  the  carriage  stopped  at 
the  entrance  of  a  great  poplar  grove,  in  which 
thousands  of  birds  were  singing  of  the  wonders 
and  glory  of  God.  Here  there  was  a  little  man 
in  gold  spectacles,  who  seemed  as  pale  as  himself 
and  as  terrified,  with  two  other  serious  gentlemen 
who  accompanied  him.  Velarde  thought  that  they 
were  discussing  something  about  the  ground.  Then 
they  gave  him  a  pistol  and  one  to  the  little  man, 
and  set  them  face  to  face.  Then  came  the  clapping 
of  a  hand,  and  a  shot.  Velarde  gave  a  terrible  cry 
and  leapt  into  the  air.  Trees,  mountains,  earth  and 
sky  swept  swiftly  upon  him  as  if  to  crush  him. 
A  cloud  of  blood  blinded  him;  then  another  black 
cloud  held  him;  and  then  nothing — he  saw  nothing 
more  on  earth. 

He  saw  but  Christ  above,  alive  and  terrible, 
who  came  to  judge  him;  and  beyond  Him  lay 
eternity,  dark,  immense,  implacable — 

To  be  continued 


Tke  Sign  of  tke  Cross 

I — Its  Meanings  and  Its  Forms 

Hubert  Cunningham,  C.  P. 


CROSS  is  not  a  crucifix.  A  crucifix  is  not 
a  cross.  To  the  common  mind  these  two 
objects  are  much  the  same  but  in  reality 
they  are  entirely  different.  By  the  Cross 
the  christian  world  immediately  understands  those 
two  right-angled,  intersecting  beams  on  to  which 
Our  Blessed  Saviour  was  nailed,  on  which  He  was 
lifted  up  as  a  horrible  example  and  on  which  He 
died.  That  is  the  Cross  of  Christ  or  the  Holy  Cross 
itself.  The  object  which  is  religiously  called  a  cross 
means  anything  which  copies  that  sacred  gibbet  in 
shape;  whether  it  be  formed  in  wood,  stone,  metal 
or  aught  else  it  is  a  plain  cross.  Only  when  there 
is  attached  to  that  plain  cross  a  body  or  what  is 
called  the  corpus  is  the  object  named  correctly  a 
crucifix.  A  crucifix  is  a  cross — and  something  more; 
it  is  the  cross  with  a  body  on  it. 

This  difference  immediately  reveals  another 
contrast  between  the  cross  and  the  crucifix.  It  is 
evident  enough  to  every  eye  that  the  crucifix  is  a 
representation  of  the  awful  sufferings  and  gruesome 
death  of  Jesus,  Our  Lord  and  Master.  It  is 
familiarity  alone  that  could  prevent  us  from  seeing 
that  the  representation  is,  indeed,  a  vivid,  a  realistic 
picture  of  what  was  ruthlessly  done  to  the  Son  of 
the  All-Holy  God.  However  the  cross  is  no  such 
display;  it  does  not  detail  any  sufferings;  that  is  not 
its  purpose.  The  cross  is  only  a  reminder,  a  sugges- 
tion, an  emblematic  embodiment  of  what  the  crucifix 
shows.  The  crucifix  reveals  the  painful  sufferings 
and  shameful  death  of  Christ  while  the  cross  merely 
commemorates  or  typifies  that  greatest  of  all 
tragedies.  That  is  why  it  is  called  a  type,  a  symbol ; 
in  common  language  a  "sign" — the  sign  of  the  cross. 
Besides  the  cross  there  is  a  great  number  and 
variety  of  objects  used  by  the  church  as  signs, 
symbols,  types  such  as  the  lamb,  the  dove,  the 
anchor,  the  pelican,  the  eye,  and  these  are  called 
each  by  its  own  name  "the  sign  of  the  lamb"  "the 
sign  of  the  dove"  and  similarly  when  a  cross  is  used 
it  is  called  "the  sign  of  the  cross."  This  is  the  origin 
and  first  meaning  of  the  familiar  expression — the 
sign  of  the  cross.  These  words  signify  the  plain 
cross  used  as  a  sign  or  symbol  of  our  redemption. 
The  words  have  another  use  and  meaning:     When 


we  trace  with  our  hands  those  cross-lines  on  our 
bodies,  our  foreheads,  our  lips  we  perform  an  act 
of  devotion  and  we  call  it  making  the  sign  of  the 
cross.  This  is  the  sense  in  which  the  words  are 
commonly  applied  and  accepted. 

The  sign  of  the  cross  in  both  these  senses, 
whether  as  a  symbol  of  our  faith  or  as  an  act  of 
devotion  is  as  far  reaching  as  the  church.  Whither- 
soever Christianity  has  extended  there  has  immedi- 
ately appeared  the  sign  of  the  cross.  This  one  fact 
alone  makes  the  practice  a  very  interesting  study, 
but  beyond  this  again  there  are  so  many  details 
connected  with  it  that  it  is  fascinating  to  the  thought- 
ful mind ;  it  is  surrounded  with  the  charm  of  variety. 
When  we  make  the  sign  of  the  cross,  for  example, 
we  accompany  the  act  with  some  words  such  as  "In 
the  Name  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  Amen."  The  words  thus  accompany- 
ing the  action  are  called  the  form.  A  form  or  fixed 
set  of  words  is  not  necessary.  They  may  or  they 
may  not  accompany  the  action ;  that  is  an  indifferent 
matter;  it  is  none  the  less  the  sign  of  the  cross.  The 
use  of  accompanying  words  is  an  aftergrowth  of 
the  practice,  how  very  ancient  we  do  not  exactly 
know,  and  although  the  two  are  such  ancient  com- 
panions they  have  not  become  blended  or  confused ; 
each  has  maintained  its  identity.  The  sign  of  the 
cross  itself  and  the  form  accompanying  it  are 
separate  and  independent  items. 

BNOTHER  noteworthy  circumstance  connected 
with  this  subject  and  one  which  marks  the 
individual  character  both  of  the  devout  action 
and  of  the  form  of  its  accompanying  words  is  that 
both  have  variety;  they  have  changed  with  times  and 
places  and  persons  and  under  the  influence  of  these 
factors  they  still  change  and  very  likely  will  vary 
in  the  future.  So  we  have  written  in  history,  besides 
the  form  which  we  are  familiar  with  today  and 
just  now  mentioned  such  other  acts  of  worship  and 
invocation  as  "The  Sign  of  Jesus,"  "The  Sign  of 
Christ,"  "The  Sign  of  Christ  Crucified,"  "The  Sign 
of  the  Cross,"  "In  the  Name  of  the  Holy  Trinity." 

These  are  but  some  of  the  prayers  which  have 
been  customarily  said  while  performing  this  holy 


THE  +S1GN 


duty.  The  words  which  we  use  today  are  not  so 
old  as  the  forms  just  mentioned  by  many  hundreds 
of  years.  "In  the  Name  of  the  Father,  etc."  is  very 
beautiful,  very  dear  to  us  of  the  present  day  and 
very  rich  in  condensed  doctrine;  it  is  well  called  a 
perfect  summary  of  Catholic  teaching,  but  these 
words  may  be  called  modern  if  we  compare  them 
with  the  celebrated  ejaculation  "Holy  God,  Holy 
Strong  God,  Holy  Immortal  God,  Have  Mercy  on 
,Us."  These  words  are  called  the  Trysagion  and 
were  used  for  hundreds  of  years  all  the  world  over 
while  making  the  sign  of  the  cross.  It  is  still  in  use 
among  the  Greek  Catholics,  though,  strange  to  say, 
like  many  of  the  salutations  just  quoted,  it  has  not 
only  waned  in  popularity  in  our  part  of  the  world — 
it  has  passed  out  and  that  to  such  a  degree  that  it 
appears  in  the  services  of  the  church  only  on  one 
day  throughout  the  entire  year:  on  Good  Friday  it 
comes  up  for  a  moment  in  the  Mass  of  the  Presancti- 
fied  and  even  then,  be  it  noted,  the  sign  of  the  cross 
is  not  connected  with  it.  Today,  after  its  splendid 
years  of  history  it  is  unknown  to  the  Catholic  public 
so  much  so  that  very  few  of  those  who  shall  read 
this  number  of  THE  SIGN  will  be  able  to  say  that 
they  have  ever  before  heard  of  the  Trysagion.  Those 
who  have  travelled  much  and  so  have  had  the 
opportunity  to  observe  will  confirm  this  present 
oblivion  of  a  once  common  prayer  by  admitting  that 
the  only  one  place  in  the  English  speaking  world 
in  which  the  Trysagion  is  now  in  use  is  among  the 
Sisters  of  the  Good  Shepard.  It  forms  a  part  of 
their  religious  exercises  and  so  it  lives — a  relic  of 
a  venerable  past.  In  the  past  it  was  in  common  use 
among  priests  and  people;  now  it  is  almost  unknown. 

XN  contrast  with  this  fading  salutation  notice 
the  position  and  popularity  of  the  formula  in 
use   here    and   now — "In   the   Name   of   the 
Father,  etc."    This  is  so  general  as  to  be  well  nigh 
universal.     Yet  its  popularity   is   individual   rather 


than  official,  with  the  laity  rather  than  with  the 
priesthood,  in  personal  devotions  rather  than  in 
public  prayers.  It  is  interesting  to  notice  that  in  the 
official  prayers  of  the  church,  in  the  Divine  Office 
and  the  Mass  there  are  many  forms  used  while 
making  the  sign  of  the  cross,  many  and  various, 
as  "Oh,  Lord,  open  Thou  my  lips,  and  my  tongue 
shall  declare  Thy  praise,"  and  "Incline  unto  my  aid, 
Oh  God,  Oh  Lord  make  haste  to  help  me,"  and  others 
too  numerous  to  be  detailed  given  here;  the  im- 
poitant  point  here  is  that  aside  from  its  use  at  the 
beginning  of  the  Mass,  administering  absolution 
and  giving  Confirmation  the  popular  words  are  very 
rarely  found;  compared  to  those  which  I  have 
mentioned  they  are  rarely  used;  nevertheless  they 
have  by  their  richness  and  their  beauty  taken  hold 
of  the  heart  of  the  church  and  Pius  IX  has  granted 
an  indulgence  of  50  days  to  all  those  who  may 
make  the  sign  of  the  cross  while  saying  "In  the 
Name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy 
Ghost."  Such  a  privilege  is  granted  to  none  of  the 
other  forms. 

These  forms  come  and  go  by  no  fixed  rule ;  they 
ever  find  their  first  impulse  in  the  soul  of  some 
individual  person,  in  some  particular  act  of  devotion. 
Devotion  is  the  breath  of  the  Spirit  of  God  within 
the  soul  and  that  Divine  Spirit  breatheth  as  it  listeth. 
It  is  beyond  the  ken  as  well  as  the  rule  of  man; 
as  none  can  say  what  has  been  the  cause  of  their 
coming  or  the  reason  for  their  going  to  the  beautiful 
forms  of  the  past  so  none  can  tell  what  these  may  be 
in  the  future.  If  the  "Memorare"  is  a  burst  from 
the  burning  bosom  of  a  Bernard  and  the  "Gloria 
Patri"  an  echo  of  the  gladness  which  filled  the  soul 
of  Saint  Jerome  it  is  easy  to  see  that  the  whisperings 
of  a  holy  Catholic  mother  to  the  croonings  of  her 
babe  may  be  the  first  spring  of  another  form  for 
the  sign  of  the  cross  that  will  in  the  future  be  more 
popular  than  the  one  of  to-day.  Perhaps  not;  but 
none  could  have  a  holier  origin. 


An    Interesting    Declaration 


XN  view  of  the  present  diversity  of   aims   in 
Ireland  this  declaration  by  Mr.  de  Valera  in 
the    "Echo    de    Paris"    is    interesting:    "We 
have  no  intention  of  coming  into  direct  conflict  with 
the  majority  in  the  Irish  Parliament,  but  my  aim  is 


to  lead  the  Irish  people  towards  the  aspirations  for 
which  they  have  always  fought.  Still,  we  will  not 
play  the  game  of  our  oppressors  in  creating  internal 
trouble  which  would  furnish  them  with  a  pretext 
for  meddling  in  our  affairs  to  crush  us." 


Current  Fact  and  Comment 


EUGENICS  FOR  FRENCH   INFANTS 


^^HE  French  Ministry  of  Public  Instruction  has 
V  V  a  commission  at  work  drafting  a  system  of 
instruction  in  eugenics  commencing  with  boys 
at  the  age  of  nine  and  girls  at  eleven.  They  are 
meeting  strong  opposition  from  those  who  claim 
that  the  adoption  of  such  a  plan  would  be  proof 
that  France  no  longer  believes  in  the  efficiency  of 
Catholic  precepts.     Paul  Borget,  the  noted  French 


author,  scarcely  believes  that  vice  to  be  hated  needs 
but  to  be  seen,  for  he  points  out  that  students  in 
the  Latin  Quarter,  constantly  confronted  with  the 
effects  of  evil  habits,  are  as  subject  to  moral  con- 
tamination as  any  other  group.  He  insists  that  it 
would  be  better  to  impress  upon  children  the  import- 
ance of  Confession  and  Communion  and  leave  to 
the  priests  the  duty  of  inculcating  moral  tenets. 


THE  WEAR  AND  TEAR  OF  PLEASURE 


XT  is  a  cheerful  thing  to  be  told  that  the  human 
body  is  the  most  durable  of  all  machines  and 
that,  under  normal  conditions,  it  will  run 
longer  and  better  than  any  other  engine  in  the  world. 
Also  that,  for  the  strains  upon  the  heart  in  particular, 
nature  has  left  a  large  margin  of  safety.  Still  there 
is  no  assuring  message  in  all  this  for  those  who 
apply  their  time  and  energies  inordinately  to  the 
pursuit  of  gain  or  pleasure.  The  pursuit  of  gain, 
because  less  culpable,  is  perhaps  the  more  insidious 


cause  of  irreparable  collapse  in  that  marvellous 
machine.  The  pursuit  of  pleasure,  however,  stimu- 
lated nowadays  by  variety,  intensity  and  availability, 
has  a  greater  share  in  bringing  that  collapse  about. 
When  even  the  metropolitan  journals  manifest  alarm 
for  the  welfare  of  the  race  and  the  nation  as  they 
depict  night-life  in  New  York  City,  it  is  well  for  the 
individual  to  count  the  cost  of  such  indulgence  and 
irregularity. 


THE   SOAP-BOX  FORUM 


HITHERTO  if  you  paused  to  listen  to  the  man 
on  a  soap-box  addressing  a  rapt  audience 
quite  invariably  would  you  find  him  develop- 
ing some  radical  theme  against  government  and  the 
social  order  with  a  zeal  and  vehemence  worthy  of 
a  better  cause.  You  marvelled  at  the  broad  inter- 
pretations to  which  the  theory  of  free  speech  can 
be  applied  without  it  being  ranked  as  treason,  and 
you  wondered  why  the  friends  of  order  and  govern- 
ment did  not  rally  in  defense  and  rebuttal.  The 
Constitutional  Defense  League  now  plans  to  enter 


this  open-air  forum.  They  have  a  capable  corps 
of  speakers,  mostly  war  veterans,  some  of  them 
converts  from  Socialism.  Moreover  they  are  con- 
ducting a  training  school  the  more  amply  to  cover 
the  field.  It  is  a  seasoned  organization  having 
originated  in  Wisconsin  where  Socialism  had  made 
great  progress  and  had  won  many  offices  throughout 
the  State.  As  a  result  of  the  League's  efforts  in 
1920  not  a  single  Socialist  was  elected  to  any  county 
office  in  the  entire  State. 


BIRTH   CONTROL 


^t^HEN  the  Vicar  General  of  the  diocese  of 
\I/  Newark  urged  the  Episcopalian  Bishop  of 
New  York  to  take  a  common  stand  against 
the  birth  control  movement,  he  was  aware  that  the 
latter  had  no  alternative.    The  Catholic  Church  has 


not  an  exclusive  responsibility  for  the  laws  and 
principles  affecting  the  sacredness  and  the  end  of 
the  marriage  state.  The  faithful  must  not  labor 
under  the  impression  that  those  laws  are  of  the  same 
order  as  merely  ecclesiastical  laws  such  as  the  law 


THE  t  SIGN 


of  fasting.  When  a  church  law  seriously  inconveni- 
ences you,  your  case  may  be  presented  to  your  con- 
fessor or  director  and  he  may  validly  grant  a 
mitigation  or  a  dispensation.  But  there  are  laws 
of  a  higher  order,  called  divine  because  of  their 
directly  divine  origin.  These  bind  you  not  because 
you  are  a  Catholic  but  because  you  are  a  Christian 
and  a  creature.  Human  authority  may  not  dispense 
from  these  laws  no  matter  how  urgent  and  pitiful 
your  plea  or  how  exceptional  the  inconvenience 
compliance  with  such  a  law  may  cause  you.  The 
Birth-Controlists   have   the   effrontery   to    advocate 


the  abrogation  of  such  laws  emanating  from  the 
infinite  wisdom  of  the  Creator  and  designed  by  Him 
for  the  general  welfare  of  the  race.  In  their  short- 
sighted opportunism  they  are  unwilling  to  believe 
that  the  Creator,  being  also  infinitely  merciful, 
will  lend  his  grace  and  support  to  the  faithful 
individual  who  suffers  inconvenience  from  the 
observance  of  such  laws.  Protestants  familiar  with 
the  Old  Testament  should  know  whence  the  com- 
monest sin  of  married  life  derives  its  name. 
Through  the  peremptory  slaying  of  Onan  would  God 
indicate  to  all  men  His  abhorrence  for  that  sin. 


THF   SPIRITUAL  VITALITY  OF   FRANCE 


^^^HE  Hand  of  God  is  not  withdrawn  in  revolu- 
\^  J  tionary  crises.  Did  the  Church  in  France 
seem  to  reel  to  her  destruction  when  Separa- 
tion came  in  1906?  George  Goyau,  the  best  in- 
formed historian  of  the  religious  movement  shows 
how  it  was  but  a  wonderful  impulse  to  new  growth 
and  activity.  Within  six  years  from  Separation 
the  new  churches  and  chapels  founded  in  Paris 
alone  served  636,500  souls.  This  is  about  the 
population  of  Marseilles  and  we  are  asked  to  con- 
template such  a  city  without  a  single  sanctuary  in 
order  to  appraise  the  vital  spiritual  force  at  work 


during  those  six  years — the  zeal  and  initiative  that 
reinstated  and  established  God  where  all  might 
have  been  chaos.  An  equally  bright  picture  is 
drawn  of  all  France  and  of  both  the  intellectual  and 
labor  classes  of  the  post-Concordat  period  and  the 
historian  eloquently  concludes :  "A  religious  awaken- 
ing is  shaking  the  whole  French  nation.  The  laws 
of  secularization  attempted  to  dam  up  the  move- 
ment, to  restrain  it,  to  break  it,  but  the  flood  mounts 
and  is  irresistible,  it  has  covered  the  dykes,  it  is 
sweeping  away  the  barriers." 


WOMAN  NOT   SUPERIOR  TO   MAN 


^^HE  hand  that  rocks  the  cradle  will  never  rule 
V.  J  the  world,  according  to  Mrs.  Asquith,  and 
she  should  know.  Most  men  who  voted  equal 
rights  for  women  never  contemplated  their  own 
sisters  aspiring  to  the  honors  or  responsibilities 
allotted  by  nature  and  tradition  to  the  sterner  sex. 
The  gallantry  and  sense  of  justice  in  behalf  of 
women  which  have  distinguished  this  generation 
have  not  proceeded  on  safe  grounds  if  we  believe 
Stephen  Leacock  arguing  in  Collier's  against 
coeducation.  Coeducation  is  wrong  because  it  pre- 
sumes upon  the  possible  superiority  of  one  or  the 
other  sex,  whereas  they  are  different.  Higher 
education,  yes;  but  not  coeducation.  "I  learned  my 
Greek,"  he  says,  "alongside  a  bevy  of  beauty  on  the 
opposite  benches  that  mashed  the  irregular  verbs 
for  us  very  badly.  Incidentally  those  girls  are  all 
married  long  since,  and  all  the  Greek  they  know 
now  you  could  put  under  a  thimble." 


According  to  this  college  professor,  the  funda- 
mental trouble  is  that  men  and  women  are  different 
creatures,  with  different  minds,  different  aptitudes 
and  different  paths  of  life.  They  should  have  a 
different  curriculum.  Tabulated  results  and  the 
experiences  of  those  who  teach  show  that  in  the 
whole  domain  of  mathematics  and  physics  women 
are  outclassed.  On  the  other  hand,  in  all  that  goes 
with  the  esthetic  side  of  education,  with  imagination 
and  literature  and  the  cult  of  beauty  women  are,  or 
at  least  ought  to  be,  the  superiors  of  men.  Their 
careers  are  different  but  the  preparation  is  all  aimed 
at  the  men's  career.  The  women  are  going  to  be 
married — there  is  no  use  pretending  about  it — that 
is  and  always  has  been  their  career:  and  what  is 
more,  they  know  it,  and  even  at  college,  while  they 
are  studying  algebra  and  political  economy,  they 
have  their  eye  on  it  sideways  all  the  time.  Woman 
has  much  better  things  to  think  about. 


THE  +  SIGN 


At  this  point  the  professor  hears  some  one 
shriek:  "But  surely,  even  for  marriage,  isn't  it  right 
that  a  girl  should  have  a  college  education?"  Admit 
it.  But  the  point  is,  does  a  higher  education  that 
fits  a  man  to  be  a  lawyer  also  fit  a  person  to  be  a 
wife  or  a  mother?  No.  There  is  more  education 
and  character-making  in  six  months  training  and 
discipline  of  a  hospital  as  a  nurse  than  in  a  whole 


bucketful  of  algebra.  When  later  on  in  her  home 
there  is  sudden  illness  or  accident  and  the  life  or 
death  of  those  nearest  to  her  hangs  upon  skill  or 
knowledge  and  a  trained  fortitude  in  emergency  she 
must  needs  send  in  all  haste  for  a  hired  woman  to 
fill  the  place  that  she  herself  has  never  learned  to 
occupy. 


ANGLICAN   STRADDLERS 


(T.  IGNATIUS'  Church  (Protestant)  New  York 
City,  has  just  celebrated  its  semi-centenary. 
In  an  account  of  the  growth  of  the  parish  the 
statement  is  made  that  "the  norm  of  services  at 
St.  Ignatius'  has  never  been  of  the  ultra-elaborate 
type  in  music  or  ceremonial  but  that  all  Catholic 
adjuncts  are  in  use.  (!  !)  The  Blessed  Sacrement 
is  perpetually  reserved,  usually  at  the  High  Altar, 
and  High  Mass  in  the  morning  and  Vespers  with 
Benediction  have  been  the  customary  Sunday 
services."  As  a  matter  of  fact  the  services  in  the 
High  Episcopal  churches  have  become  so  "ultra'' 
as  to  deceive  even  the  elect. 

The  popular  baseball  manager,  Hughie  Jenn- 
ings, tells  an  instance  of  such  deception.  His  team, 
mostly  Catholics,  were  quartered  in  a  New  York 
hotel.  On  a  Saturday  night  the  pious  suggestion 
that  the  Catholic  members  go  to  Communion  the 
following  morning  was  agreed  to.  Around  the 
corner  a  church  had  been  discovered  with  all  the 
apparent  marks  of  the  True  Church  and  here  all  had 
their  confessions  heard.  The  hours  for  masses 
were  ascertained  and  it  was  planned  that  they  would 
attend  in  two  parties.  On  Sunday  morning  the 
manager,  who  was  of  the  second  party,  happened  to 
ask  the  others  on  their  return  how  they  got  along. 
One  guileless  youngster  replied  that  they  must  have 
a  funny  custom  in  New  York  of  giving  you  a  drink 
of  wine  after  Communion.  Only  then  did  Mr. 
Jennings  realize  how  completely  they  had  been 
deceived.  But  he  did  not  fully  confirm  the  detail 
that  he  had  difficulty  in  restraining  his  men  from 
going  out  and  doing  violence  to  the  minister  who 
had  dared  to  hear  their  confessions. 

Apropos  of  the  simulation  of  Catholic  services 
we  have  the  Catholic  Times  (Anglican)  reviewing 
an  English  Directory  of  Ceremonial  thus:  "What 
we  are  told  to  do  here  is  more  or  less  what  we  must 


all  do  sooner  or  later  unless  we  are  prepared  to 
scrap  the  Prayer  Book  for  the  Roman  Missal,  and, 
logically  for  the  Roman  Ordo  also.  .  .  Full 
directions  in  separate  columns  for  minister  and 
server  are  provided  for  a  solemn  celebration  of  the 
Eucharist,  otherwise  High  Mass.  .  .  If  every  church 
with  a  fairly  full  ceremonial  carried  out  the  direc- 
tions of  this  book  the  Church  of  England  would  be 
in  a  much  healthier  condition  than  she  is  to-day.  .  . 
Even  in  the  Roman  rite  there  is  much  more  variety 
than  many  realize.  For  example,  who  can  tell  the 
correct  position  for  the  Roman  subdeacon  during 
the  Sanctus?     (!) 

Regarding  the  obligation  of  assisting  at  Mass 
we  find  them  with  strange  ingenuousness  quoting 
Catholic  theologians:  for  example,  "In  his  notice 
of  Fr.  Koch's  Moral  Theology  your  reviewer  says 
that  only  in  this  work  and  in  Noldin's  has  he  seen 
it  stated  that  a  bride-to-be  has  a  valid  reason 
excusing  her  from  attending  at  Mass  in  the  fact 
that  her  banns  are  to  be  proclaimed.  Marchantius 
would  excuse  also  the  young  man  for  the  reason 
that  the  people  present  by  looking  about  and  smiling 
at  him  are  apt  to  cause  him  confusion." 

And  that  mere  devotion  draws  the  Anglican  we 
deduce  from  this  rejoinder:  "The  City  churches 
are  not  so  empty  on  week  days  as  Lord  Knutsford 
pretends.  At  St.  Magnus'  on  the  Feast  of  the  Con- 
ception B.  V.  M.,  December  8,  nearly  two  hundred 
were  present  at  Mass  at  12:15."  Such  devotion 
might  well  be  fostered  by  such  a  eulogy  as  this 
from  the  Rev.  H.  C.  Frith :  "The  Mass  is  the  nearest 
earthly  approach  to  Heaven,  because  here  is  the 
Bread  that  cometh  down  from  Heaven.  The  life  in 
Heaven  is  one  with  the  baptismal  life;  and  the 
baptismal  life  begins  here,  and  is  nourished  and 
renewed  by  each  Communion  that  we  make." 


22 


Val 


ues 


Grace  Keon 


ffi 


'ARION  DOWNING  had  a  fairy  Godmother. 
She  didn't  look  the  part.  She  was 
old  and  bent  and  gray,  and  Marion,  though 
she  loved  her,  saw  her  seldom.  But  the 
month  after  Marion  was  married  she  sent  her  a  check 
and  a  letter. 

"This  money  is  not  to  be  spent  on  anything 
Bob  can  buy  you,  but  the  little  picayune  trifles  that 
you  may  need  to  make  you  happy  for  the  next  dozen 
years.  It  is  to  purchase  for  you,  my  dear,  a  sense 
of  humor.  When  you  find  life  getting  too  serious 
use  some  of  it  foolishly. 

"And  now  about  yourself,  little  bride.  I'm 
past  my  three-score  years  and  ten,  and  I've  seen  a 
few  little  brides  in  my  time.  Let  me  say  to  you 
that  you  can  have  everything  you  want  if  you  know 
how  to  get  it. 

"These  are  the  things  that  the  world  values, 
placed  as  the  world  values  them : 

"Riches.  Pleasure.  Position.  Love.  Honesty. 
Loyalty.     Virtue.     Faith. 

"Make  your  choice  now,  little  bride.  Weigh 
your  values.  And  may  the  Blessed  Mother  of  God, 
to  whom  I  dedicated  you  before  I  left  the  church 
the  day  you  were  baptized,  keep  you  and  guard 
you." 

Some  weeks  later  the  fairy  godmother  departed 
to  a  new  court,  and  to-  the  presence  of  a  King  for 
whom  she  had  always  longed. 

In  life  she  was  a  wealthy  woman.  Some  one 
asked  Marion  Downing  if  she  had  been  left  any- 
thing. 

"Why "    said    Marion,    vaguely,    through 

her  tears,  "yes a  letter " 

*     *     *     * 

(HE  looked  at  her  husband  across  the  dinner- 
table.  Beside  them  little  Bobby  fidgeted, 
and  she  was  kept  busy  with  the  active  child. 
The  elder  Bob  paid  no  attention.  His  eyes  were 
scanning,  eagerly,  the  financial  reports,  and  there 
was  a  smile  playing  about  his  lips.  Twice  Marion 
spoke  to  him.  Both  times  he  had  to  arouse  himself 
to  answer  her.  And  then  a  faint  call  from  the  next 
room  brought  her  hurriedly  to  her  feet. 

"That  is  Anne,"  she  said.  "Come,  Bobby — 
you've  had  enough!"  She  lifted  the  boy  and  carried 
him   into   the   adjoining   room   where   five-year-old 


Anne  lay,  convalescing  from  a  severe  attack  of 
bronchitis  and  was  in  that  irritable  stage  which 
marks  the  beginning  of  a  return  to  health.  And 
Marion  talked  gaily  to  her  while  she  bathed  Bobby's 
hands  and  face,  and  prepared  him  for  bed. 

"Why  doesn't  Dearest  Dad  come  in?"  asked 
Anne,  fretfully.    "He  wasn't  in  last  night,  either." 

"Just  as  soon  as  he  finishes  his  supper,  I  hope, 
darling,"  said  Marion,  consolingly.  "You  know  how 
tired  and  hungry  Dearest  Dad  is  when  he  comes 
home.     Be  his  own  Littlest  Mother,  Anne." 

A  satisfied  smile  played  about  the  child's  lips. 
She  watched  Bobby's  undressing;  prayers  were  said, 
and  he  was  covered  carefully  in  his  crib.  Then 
Marion  tip-toed  into  the  next  room,  where  the  six- 
months'  old  baby  was  sleeping  peacefully.  And 
tip-toed  out  again,  past  Bobby  and  Anne,  whose 
eyes  were  closing — but  opened  them  as  the  mother 
went  by. 

"You  tell  Dearest  Dad  to  come  just  as  soon  as 
ever  he  can,"  she  whispered,  drowsily. 

"I'll  tell  him,"  said  the  mother. 

She  had  been  twenty  minutes  out  of  the  dining- 
room.  In  that  twenty  minutes  Bob  had  transferred 
himself  and  his  paper  to  an  easy  chair  beside  the 
glowing  grate,  had  found  his  slippers,  and  was 
evidently  settled  for  the  evening,  for  his  official- 
looking  bag  was  open  on  the  floor  and  he  was  still 
immersed  in  the  financial  news.  Marion  noticed, 
however,  that  her  own  chair  had  been  placed  ready 
for  her  on  the  other  side  of  the  fire. 

She  cleared  the  table  softly,  carried  the  dishes 
into  the  kitchen,  put  the  tapestry  runner  back,  and 
on  top  of  it  the  little  crystal  globe  with  its  golden 
chrysanthemums.  As  she  was  washing  the  dishes 
the  bell  rang  and  she  had  to  dry  her  hands  hurriedly 
and  run  to  the  door.  Frank  Peyton  stood  there, 
smiling  at  her  in  his  boyish  fashion. 

"Hello,  Marion!     Where's  Bob?" 

"In  the  dining-room,"  said  Marion,  smiling  back. 
She  was  not  sure  that  Bob  would  be  particularly 
pleased  at  this  interruption,  but  she  believed  in 
smiling  back.  Frank  Peyton  was  a  boisterous  fellow, 
not  averse  to  hearing  himself  talk — and  this  evening 
was  no  exception  to  the  rule,  for  it  was  his  voice, 
sharp,  persuasive,  that  floated  out  to  her  in  the 
kitchen.    She  wondered  at  Bob's  patience — since  he 


THE  t  SIGN 


had  come  home  evidently  prepared  to  put  in  some 
hours'  work.  The  dishes  finished  at  last,  with  every- 
thing in  order,  she  hung  her  apron  on  the  hook 
behind  the  door  and  rolled  down  her  sleeves.  She 
was  very  tired,  and  yawned,  tapping  her  mouth  with 
her  fingers  as  she  entered  the  dining-room.  She 
glanced  at  the  clock.  Nine-thirty!  Already!  Well, 
it  had  been  a  long  day  and  a  hard  day,  but  if  the 
children  rested  comfortably  she  could  make  up  for 
it  by  a  good  night's  rest.  Poor  little  Anne !  Dearest 
Dad  would  not  have  a  chance  to  talk  to  her  to-night. 
Poor  Dearest  Dad!  He  worked  so  hard  and  had 
such  brief  time  for  them 

It  would  be  nice,  afterward,  when  he  could  let 
up  some,  and  give  the  children  more  of  himself.    It 

did  not  matter  so  much  now,  really they  were 

so  little,  little  satisfied  them 

Bob  did  not  rise  from  his  easy-chair — he  was 
engrossed  in  some  papers  lying  on  his  knee.  But 
Frank  Peyton  sprang  to  his  feet,  greeting  her  with 
enthusiasm. 

"Don't  you  ever  get  cross,  Marion?"  he  asked. 
"You  should  show  me  the  door  when  I  tumble  in 
on  Bob  and  you  this  way." 

"Oh,  no,"  smiled  Marion. 

"I  keep  telling  Norma  she  ought  to  come  over 
here  and  find  out  the  secret  of  your  temper,"  he 
continued.     "Why  don't  you  pass  it  on,  Marion?" 

"My  gracious,  there's  no  secret  about  it," 
exclaimed  Marion.  "I  suppose  I'm  just  content — 
and  if  there's  any  secret  in  that,  she's  welcome  to  it. 
And  now — I'll  say  good-night,  Frank " 

Bob  gathered  up  the  papers  at  this  and  rose. 

"Yes,  dear,"  he  said.  "Frank  and  I  are  talking 
business " 

She  nodded  and  passed  into  the  bedroom.  In 
the  act  of  closing  the  door,  she  stood  looking  down 
at  Anne,  who  was  fast  asleep,  her  heavy  lashes 
casting  shadows  en  the  pale  cheeks.  How  white 
and  frail  she  looked — she  who  had  been  so  pretty, 
so  full  of  life 

"How  do  you  do  it,  Bob?"  she  heard  Frank 
Peyton  ask,  and  there  was  a  note  of  wonder,  it 
seemed,  in  his  voice.  "She's  as  smart  as  can  be 
when  it  comes  to  commonsense  and  yet  she  never 
seems  to  have  a  thought  beyond  you  and  the 
children." 

"She  hasn't,"  said  Bob. 

"Norma  would  die  in  a  week  if  she  had  to  live 
her  sort  of  life. 

"What  sort  of  life?"    demanded  Bob,  and  there 


was  a  note  of  vexation  in  his  voice  that  made  Marion 
smile.  "We  have  a  good  home She  has  every- 
thing she  wants She  has  the  children 

I  never  deny  her  anything " 

"Um But  does  she  ever  ask  you  for  any- 
thing?" questioned  Frank.  "  I  wish  you  could  hear 
Norma !  If  you  were  married  to  Norma — well,  that's 
that.  Let's  settle  these  details  now,  Bob) — " 
^^^HEY  were  off  into  their  business  discussion 
V/ J  again.  Marion  closed  the  door  softly,  a  little 
warm  feeling  stirring  through  her.  The  dif- 
ference between  her  and  Norma  was  great,  of  course. 
If  ever  there  was  an  irresponsible  being  in  the  world 
it  was  Norma.    The  Firefly,  they  called  her.     She 

could  dance  like  a  fairy and  her  voice,  when 

she  sang,  had  a  thrill  to  it  that  sent  one's  pulses 
leaping.  She  played  an  absurd  little  ukulele,  tied 
up,  generally,  with  an  orange  ribbon,  and  sat  on  a 
pile  of  cushions,  Turk  fashion,  her  fingers  skipping, 

her  body  swaying a  little  chuckle  of  laughter 

rose  in  Marion's  throat  as  she  imagined  Bob's  face 
if  he  saw  her,  Marion,  doing that.  The  digni- 
fied mother  of  three  glorious  children!  Why,  Norma 
Peyton  was  no  more  fit  to  be  married  than  a  baby! 
Or  to  make  a  home,  either!  Just  think  of  all  that 
Marion  Downing  was  doing  with  her  life!  Three 
children !  No  wonder  she  felt  old !  She  was  twenty- 
six.     Twenty-six !    But  Norma  Peyton  was 

twenty-seven!    She  had  told  her  so  herself 

Marion  knelt  to  say  her  prayers,  and  then  stole 
into  bed,  lying  on  the  side  next  the  baby's  crib — 
a  round,  fat,  Dotty  Dimples  of  a  baby,  bubbling 
over  with  good-nature.  Norma  Peyton,  indeed! 
Funny — she  couldn't  get  her  out  of  her  head.  Her 
thoughts  went  back  to  the  day  after  baby  was  born. 
Norma  Peyton  had  come  in,  looking  like  a  rose,  in 
a  clinging  white  gown — perfumed,  perfect,  lovely. 

"My  dear,  my  dear.  Another  one!  Another! 
How  can  you?" 

■  "How  can  I?"     smiled  Marion.     "Just  look  at 
her,  Norma." 

"No,  I  won't.    I'm  disgusted — plain  disgusted." 

"Good  gracious,  Norma!  Is  it  posible  you  are 
absurd  enough  to  pity  me  ?  I'm  the  happiest  mother 
in  the  world!" 

"You  certainly  look  the  part.  No,  I'm  not  wast- 
ing any  pity  on  you,  Marion.  But  I'm  sorry  for  Bob. 
Think  of  saddling  a  bright  young  fellow  like  Bob 
with  so  many  responsibilities!  It's  enough  to  drag 
him  down — hold  him  back — kill  him!  Smother  all 
his  ambition!" 


THE  1*  SIGN 


"You're  surely  crazy,  Norma,"  said  Marion, 
smiling  placidly.  "The  more  Bob  has  to  work  for, 
the  more  he  has  to  build  on,  you  foolish  creature." 

Norma  said  no  more,  and  Marion,  in  her  own 
serene  way,  gave  the  talk  no  further  consideration — 
though  she  did  relate  part  of  it  to  Bob> — this  wise: 
"Just  think!  If  she  had  a  darling  girl  like  Anne — 
or  a  little  soldier  like  Bob — or  a  fuzzy,  roly-poly 
pot  of  butter  like  this?" 

"Marion,"  grinned  Bob,  "why  do  you  try  to 
understand  Norma  Peyton?  You  live  in  two  dif- 
ferent worlds,  and  neither  one  of  you  knows  the 
other's  language." 

Marion  recalled  all  of  it.  "Poor  little  Norma!" 
she  said,  under  her  breath.  "Poor  little  Norma!" 
She  touched  the  small  hand  lying  curled  outside  the 
cover.  What  a  satiny  hand —  what  delicate  nails — 
what  a  little  mouth,  pursed  up  like  rosebud!  Babies 
were  like  flowers — pure  flowers.  Fit  to  blossom  only 
in  the  garden  of  God!  Why,  after  all,  should  she 
say  poor  little  Norma?  Norma  knew  what  she  was 
doing — Norma's  choice  lay  with  Norma  herself. 

She  lay  awake,  thinking  the  long  thoughts  of 
motherhood.  Presently  she  heard  the  outer  door 
close,  and  Bob  moving  around  the  dining-room, 
whistling  softly  under  his  breath.  He  stepped 
softly  through  the  room  where  Anne  and  Bobby  lay, 
and  sat  down  in  the  chair  close  beside  their  bed. 
In  the  dim  light  Marion  could  see  the  brightness  of 
his  face.    His  eyes  were  shining. 

"Awake,   Marion?" 

"Yes." 

"Good  thing  Frank  let  me  in  on  to-night.  It 
will  add  an  extra  few  ciphers  to  that  country  house 
account  of  ours." 

"Really,  Bob?"  She  turned  her  fair  face 
toward  him.  The  light  fell  on  her  shinning  hair. 
It  looked  halo-like. 

"Yes.  It's  about  Curtin.  He's  up  against 
it  hard.  I'm  going  to  make  him  a  proposition  to- 
morrow. He'll  sell.  And  Frank  has  a  buyer  ready. 
We'll  clear  up  big  without  handling  a  cent." 

"Fine,"  said  Marion.  "Of  course  it's  all  right 
if  you're  going  into  it,  Bob." 

"Faithful  little  woman!"  he  bent  over  to  kiss 
her.  "I  can't  do  anything  wrong  in  your  eyes,  can 
I,  Marion?" 

"Wrong?"  she  echoed,  softly.  "Well,  you  see, 
my   eyes   are   not   the   only   ones — there's    Littlest 

Mother's  and  Bobby's  and  Baby's I  was  just 

looking  at  Baby  and  loving  her.    She's  like  an  angel- 


flower,  if  there's  such  a  thing,  pink  and  white  and 
shining.  And  they're  all  going  to  be  so  proud  of 
you,  Bob — just  as  proud  as  I  am." 

"Foolish  kid!"  smiled  her  husband.  "I'm  just 
an  ordinary  American  business  man,  Marion." 

"Well,  yes,"  she  agreed;  "and  Dearest  Dad  to 
three  of  the  most  wonderful  children  in  the  world." 

(HE  turned  her  face  toward  the  softly  breathing 
baby,  and  long  before  he  had  undressed  she 
was  asleep.  But  it  seemed  to  Bob  Downing 
that  something  was  very  flat  in  his  mouth.  As 
if  he  had  been  drinking  wine  that  had  sent  the  blood 
in  leaps  through  his  veins — and  then  tasted  dregs. 
It  lasted,  too,  and  the  taste  was  bitter. 

In  the  morning  as  soon  as  he  reached  the 
office,  he  called  up  Frank  Peyton. 

"It's  off,  Frank,"  he  said,  briefly. 

"What's  off!"     came  the  explosive  answer. 

"The  Curtin  thing.     Not  quite  clean,  Frank. 

"The  Curtin  thing — the  Curtin — Say,  you  can't 
mean  it,  Bob.  Say,  it's  the  greatest — Say,  let  me 
get  over  there — I'll  show  you " 

"Off,  off,  off,  Frank!  Thought  it  over.  Looks 
shady.  Won't  do  it.  Couldn't  sleep  a  wink — and 
now  I've  decided.    Can't  afford  to  take  a  chance." 

The  voice  at  the  other  end  of  the  wire  was 
suddenly  cold. 

"I'd  like  to  know  your  real  reason,  Bob.  It's 
a  sure  thing — not  a  chance  about  it." 

"Yes yes.    I'm  sorry." 

"Well of    course I'm    disappointed. 

If  you  had  intimated  last  night " 

"I  know.  Wish  I  had  looked  at  it  then  the  way 
I  do  now.    I  can't  help  it." 

"Good-by,  Bob." 

"Good-by,  Frank." 

"And  that's  that,"  thought  Bob  to  himself, 
echoing  Frank's  phrase  of  the  previous  evening.  "I 
suppose  he'll  not  come  near  me  again  in  a  hurry." 

He  was  mistaken.  Frank  Peyton  was  too 
ephemeral  and  too  impressed  with  the  value  of  Bob's 
business  friendship  to  allow  any  protracted  break 
between  them.  And  as  Bob  felt  almost  apologetic, 
they  met  on  the  best  of  terms. 
*     *     *     * 

QORMA  PEYTON  flew  into  the  big  living-room 
of  the  Downing  flat  two  afternoon's  later. 

"Just  had  to  see  how  Nan  was  getting 
on,"  she  said.  "Hello,  lovey-dovies!  Three  guesses! 
What  has  Aunt  Nonnie  got  in  her  bundle?" 


THE  1*  SIGN 


She  settled  down  like  a  brilliant  bird  on  the 
floor  beside  Anne's  big  chair,  and  Bobby,  squealing, 
threw  himself  upon  her.  She  snuggled  his  hand- 
some, rosy  face  into  her  furs  and  he  drew  away, 
sputtering — to  bounce  in  her  lap  once  more — "right 
side  up,"  he  said. 

Mother  and  baby  sat  in  a  low  rocker.  Baby 
had  just  had  her  dinner  and  was  playing  with  her 
bare  toes. 

"Anne  has  invented  a  new  name  for  her — this 
is  Baby  Wee,"  smiled  the  mother.  "Now  we  have 
Littlest  Mother,  and  Bobby  Bounce,  and  Baby  Wee! 
Meet  the  family,  Aunt  Nonnie!" 

"I've  got  a  monkey  that  can  climb  over  and 
under,  forwards  and  backwards,  and  do  one  million, 
five  hundred  thousand  tricks,"  said  Aunt  Nonnie. 
"He  guaranteed — the  man  did — this  monkey  as 
being  absolutely  the  perfectest  monkey  out  of  the 
Zoo." 

Anne  was  staring,  fascinated,  at  the  long  paper 
parcel. 

"A  monkey!"     she  said. 

"A  monkey,"  nodded  Norma.  "Bobby,  you're 
strangling  me.  I've  got  a  top  for  you.  It  plays 
ten  tunes.    He  played  the  whole  ten  for  me." 

"Oh,  Aunt  Nonnie!"  sighed  Anne,  "I  love 
you!" 

"Umph!"  said  the  practical  Bobby.  "I  love 
you  hundreds  of  times  more'n  she  does.  Where's 
the  top?" 

Marion  giggled.  Aunt  Nonnie  watched  the 
excited  little  faces,  the  trembling  little  fingers  un- 
wrapping their  packages. 

"Lovable!  Adorable!"  she  said.  "But  oh, 
Marion how  do  you  stand  it?" 

"Stuff  and  nonsense,"  said  Marion. 

"Don't  you  get  tired?" 

"Pooh,  pooh,  silly  woman!"  remarked  Marion. 

"Never  to  lose  them  for  one  single,  solitary 
moment  ?  Never  to  breathe  except  in  the  same  air  ? 
Never  to  see  anything  without  having  them  intercept 
the  view?     Never — " 

"Quoth  the  raven "  suggested  Marion. 

"Why  don't  you  get  behind  that  man  of  yours 
and  make  him  hustle  ?  If  you  had  money  you  could 
have  someone  help  you  take  care  of  them;  you  could 
enjoy  them  all  the  more  if " 

Oh,  keep  quiet,  Norma,"  said  Marion.  "Really, 
I  think  you  come  up  here  to  see  me  when  you  want 
to  vent  your  bad  temper  on  something  that  won't 
fight  back." 


"Well — you're  about  right  at  that,"  said  Norma. 
"But  I  mean  it,  too,  this  time.  There's  that  husband 
of  yours  could  have  cleared  at  least  five  thousand 
dollars  for  himself — maybe  more — with  as  much — 
and  maybe  more — in  it  for  Frank.  And  he  wouldn't. 
I  was  so  disappointed  when  Frank  told  me — Well — 
I  won't  repeat  what  I  said." 

Marion  was  looking  at  her  puzzled. 

"If  Bob  did  anything  like  that — there  must  have 
been  good  reasons  why — " 

"Oh,  yes.  He  had  an  excuse.  Something  silly 
about  things  being  not  quite — well,  quite  honest. 
Now  you  needn't  look  as  if  someone  had  made  you 
a  present  of  that  five  thousand  dollars — " 

"Now,  Norma — " 

"Go  on!  I  think  you  are  at  the  bottom  of  it. 
That's  the  second  time  Bob's  turned  down  a  chance 
— five  thousand  dollars!  Maybe  more!  Think  of 
it!  Business  men  kill  each  other  every  day  for  half 
that  sum!" 

"Not  business  men  like  Bob." 

"Oh!  Bob,  Bob!  What's  so  remarkable  about 
Bob  I'd  like  to  know?  I  don't  see  any  difference; 
he's  just  like  a  dozen  others!"  Her  brown  eyes 
were  snapping,  and  her  red  mouth  reminded 
Marion,  who  was  watching  it  with  admiration,  of 
baby's  pout — 

"You're  not  married  to  him,"  Bob's  wife 
answered,  gently.  "And  you  don't  know  what  it 
means  to  a  man  like  Bob  to  be  Dearest  Dad  to 
Anne  and  Bobby — and  this  little  rosy-posy." 

"It's  honest-to-God,"  murmured  Norma,  half 
under  her  breath.  Really!  Sometimes  I  wonder! 
It  doesn't  seem  possible  that  such  a  soft-spoken, 
gentle  thing — "  She  shrugged  her  shoulders,  then, 
and  looked  at  the  cooing  baby.  "She  is  a  beauty, 
isn't  she,  Marion?  She'll  be  the  prettiest  of  the 
three,  I  think." 

"No,  no,  no!"  protested  Marion.  "Anne  is 
too  pale  yet — but  wait  until  she  recovers,  and  gets 
back  her  color.  Anne  is  just  like  a  pink  wild  rose 
when  she  is  well." 

"Yes,"  conceded  Norma.  She  threw  off  her 
fur  coat,  and  it  slipped  in  a  heap  on  the  floor.  "This 
sort  of  thing  ought  to  make  me  sick,  seeing  that  I 
don't  believe  in  the  fine  art  of  domesticity — but — it 
doesn't.  It's  good  to  get  over  here,  and  even  to  talk 
to  you,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  I  am  positive  you 
are  the  cause  of  Dearest  Dad  doing  me  out  of  the 
handsomest  diamond  ring  I  could  find!" 

"But  you  have  three!"    protested  Marion. 


THE  +  SIGN 


"So  I  have — three  diamonds.  And  you  have 
three  babies." 

"As  if  there  were  any  comparison." 

"None!"  mocked  Norma.  "My  diamonds  are 
no  trouble." 

"And  no  value,"  said  Marion,  quietly.  "To  me 
they're  just  like  the  toys  you've  brought  the  babies. 
Things  to  play  with." 

"Well — all  right,  Cornelia.  Every  one  to  her 
taste."  She  swayed  back  and  forth.  "I  want  you 
to  break  loose  for  an  evening  next  week.  Will  you  ? 
I  am  giving  a  party —  a  real  party.  You  and  Bob 
will  come?     Please?"     she  coaxed. 

Marion  considered. 

"I  haven't  been  out  in  nearly  a  year,"  she  said. 

"Good!  You'll  have  a  fine  time.  Do,  like  a 
darling — I'm  always  talking  of  Marion  Downing — 
and  no  one  ever  sees  you.    Will  you  try?" 

"What  evening?" 

"Thursday." 

"I  think  so.  I  can  get  some  one  to  stay  here 
with  the  children  if  Bob  has  no  other  plans." 

Norma  stared  at  her. 

"Marion,  honestly,  you'd  spoil  the  best  man 
ever  made." 

"Norma,  don't,  please.  Bob's  too  good.  He 
can't  be  spoiled." 

"Oh,  all  right,  all  right!  We  won't  begin  that 
again!  Only — if  I  made  plans  for  that  evening 
Frank  wouldn't  have  any — Or  if  he  had — Well,  it's 
all  right."  She  repeated  the  words.  "I'll  expect 
you.  Dinner,  entertainment.  Marie  Wheeler 
promised  to  sing." 

"And  you'll  sing,  too,  Norma?" 

"Perhaps!" 

"I  don't  want  to  go  unless  you  do.  Go  over 
there  and  sing  something  for  me  now.  Please, 
Norma.    I  love  it  so!" 

"Marion,  you're  about  as  old  as  that  baby  on 
your  lap,"  she  jibed.  But  she  darted  to  the  piano, 
and  ran  her  fingers  over  the  keys.  It  was  like  a 
vivid  flame,  her  music,  like  herself — a  saucy,  lilting, 
maddening  torrent  of  notes,  through  which  her  voice 
ran  like  a  light  thread. 

"Oh,  Norma!"  breathed  Marion.  "It's  lovely. 
I  suppose  I  should  be  ashamed  to  say  it,  but  I'm 
not  very  fond  of  classical  music — and  that  thing 
you  played  then.  . .  .well,  it  just  goes  to  one's  head." 

"That's  a  nice  expression  from  a  little  saint!" 
remonstrated  Norma.     "You  should  prefer  hymns." 


"I  like  hymns,  too,"  said  Marion.  "I  love 
them." 

"Well,  then,  tell  Bob  I'll  forgive  him  for  that 
diamond  ring  if  he  gives  me  next  Thursday  night. 
You  hear?" 

"Yes,  I  hear,"  smiled  Marion.  She  watched 
her  flutter  to  Anne,  kiss  the  pale  cheek,  squeeze 
Bobby,  and  then,  with  a  warm  kiss  for  herself  and 
Baby,  Norman  Peyton  drifted  away. 

"Aunt  Nonnie's  like  our  canary,"  said  Anne. 
"She  can't  stay  quiet." 

"No,"  said  Marion.  "But  she  is  so  pretty,  and 
she  can  sing  such  lovely  songs." 

"Yes,"  said  Anne.  She  pulled  the  string  and 
the  monkey  climbed  to  the  upper  perch  where  he 
swayed  dizzily.  "Though  I  wouldn't  like  her  to  sing 
me  to  sleep  nights.    I  like  your  singing  better." 

Marion  laughed. 

"Aunt  Nonnie's  singing  is  meant  to  keep 
people  awake — it's  that  sort  of  singing.  And  I'm 
glad  you  like  mine  better  at  night." 

Later  Anne  was  talking  of  Aunt  Nonnie's  sing- 
ing to  her  father. 

"It's  all  shivery,  Dearest  Dad,"  she  said,  "but 
it's  pretty,  too.    Aunt  Nonnie  is  pretty." 

"Lovely,  Anne." 

"Will  you  give  the  Peytons  next  Thursday 
evening,  Bob?"  asked  Marion.  "I'd  like  to  go — I 
haven't  been  out  in  so  long,  and  it  will  probably 
be  just  an  informal  affair.  She  says,"  she  added, 
"that  she'll  forgive  you  for  the  diamond  ring  you 
cheated  her  out  of,  if  you  go." 

"The  diamond  ring  I  cheated  her  out  of?" 
echoed  Bob  Downing.  "What  does  she  mean, 
Marion?" 

"I  don't  know,  Bob.  Something  about  a  deal 
you  didn't  go  into  with  Frank.  I  wasn't  interested," 
said  Marion,  placidly. 

Bob  Downing  leaned  his  check  against  Anne's 
fair  head. 

"I  didn't  cheat  her  out  of  it,"  he  said.  "Dearest 
Dad  did  that." 

*     *     *     * 

(0  they  went  to  the  party.  Norma  was  a  born 
hostess.  The  dinner,  served  by  a  high-priced 
caterer,  was  perfection,  and  the  guests  in- 
cluded a  writer,  a  well-known  actress,  two  business 
men  of  Bob's  acquaintance,  and  Marie  Wheeler, 
whose  services  could  not  be  bought.  She  was 
Norma's  friend. 

Norma  herself  was  the  center  of  interest.    She 


THE  +  SIGN 


wore  a  gown  of  red  and  gold;  she  sang;  she  played 
the  ukulele,  without  the  orange  ribbon  this  time, 
sitting  Turk  fashion  on  a  pile  of  cushions.  And 
Marion  thoroughly  enjoyed  it  all.  Every  one 
pleased  her.  Everything  was  beautiful.  Lovely. 
Exquisite.  The  writer  talked  to  her  and  found  her 
an  awed  listener.  The  actress  enacted  a  scene  from 
one  of  her  plays  and  Marion  wept  at  its  pathos.  Mr. 
Walters  and  Mr.  Carruthers  chattered  pleasantly  and 
found  in  her  simplicity  and  commonsense  something 
that  made  them  wonder  how  she  came  to  be  such  a 
firefly's  friend.  And  when  Marie  Wheeler  sang 
Cara  Nome,  all  seemed  satisfied  to  watch  the  rapture 
on  Marion's  face.  Then  it  was  time  to  leave — and 
she  said,  regretfully,  that  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  she 
had  just  come. 

"You  were  the  success  of  Norma's  party,"  said 
Bob.  It  was  after  one  o'clock  when  they  reached 
their  little  flat.  All  was  serene.  The  children  and 
the  caretaker  were  sound  asleep — Marion  stole  about 
softly,  from  one  to  the  other,  assuring  herself  of 
this,  before  she  showed  that  she  had  heard  him. 

"But,  Bob!  How  can  you!  Not  a  single  thing 
have  I — not  one  accomplishment!  But  oh,  how  I 
did  enjoy  it!    And  oh,  how  glad  I  am  to  get  home!" 

He  went  to  the  window  and  threw  it  open, 
drawing  her  cloak  over  her  shoulders.  They  stood 
side  by  side  looking  up  at  the  clear  blue  sky. 

"You  did  enjoy  it,  Marion?    Why?" 

"Because — "  she  hesitated.  "Well — because 
I  knew  we  were  only  playing.  The  real  thing  is 
here — and  we  have  it." 

"The  real  thing  is  here — and  we  have  it." 


"And  besides,  I  know,"  she  went  on,  with  brows 
puckered,  "that  neither  of  us  can  go  very  far  wrong, 
with  those  little  hands  waiting  to  clasp  ours,  those 
clear  eyes  waiting  to  meet  ours,  those  little  mouths 
waiting  for  our  kisses.  Perhaps  that  is  why  I  am  so 
sure,  Bob,  nothing  can  go  wrong  with  us." 

"But  there  is  something  else,  Marion." 

"What  else?" 

"Can't  you  guess?" 

"You  mean  that  I — " 

"Yes.  They're  living  for  themselves  over  there 
— they're  not  building.    We're  building,  Marion." 

"Building!"  exclaimed  Marion.  "What  a  nice 
way  to  put  it!  Building — on  God — on  each  other — 
for  God,  for  each  other.  No  one  could  say  that  but 
you,  Dearest  Dad." 

"I  didn't  say  it  all,"  he  teased.  Then,  laugh- 
ingly, under  his  breath,  "Though  for  a  little  while 
I  was  about  persuaded  that  the  honors  were  all 
mine!" 

"Good  gracious!"  said  Marion,  with  the  chuckle 
he  knew  so  well  in  her  throat.  "To-morrow  I'm 
going  to  spend  a  few  dollars  of  godmother's  money 
on  something  foolish.    Positively." 

Yes,  Marion  Downing  had  a  fairy  godmother. 
She  wrote: 

"Riches.  Pleasure.  Position.  Love.  Honesty. 
Loyalty.    Virtue.     Faith." 

And  Marion,  having  a  keen  sense  of  values, 
had  chosen.  She  began  at  the  bottom  of  the 
world's  preference,  and  built  up.  It  didn't  matter 
much  what  was  at  the  top,  if  Faith  made  the  corner- 
stone. 


The  Passion  In  War  Memorials 


^^^HE  Sacred  Passion  of  our  Lord  seems  to  be 
Ij  the  favorite  thought  in  most  of  the  Anglican 
war  memorials;  the  figure  of  the  Crucified 
painted  in  a  panel,  a  three-light  window  with  the 
Crucifixion  and  figures  of  our  Lady  and  St.  John, 
Calvarys  of  Portland  stone,  etc.  In  Sussex  some 
twenty  wayside  crosses  have  been  erected  as 
memorials  of  the  war.     Recently  at  the  unveiling 


of  one  of  these  Major-General  Sir  John  Daniell 
reminded  his  audience  that  nearly  all  the  villages 
of  England  had  their  village  cross  300  years  ago, 
but  with  few  exceptions,  all  had  disappeared.  They 
were  intended  to  direct  minds  to  the  One  Great 
Sacrifice;  and  he  hoped  that  they  would  see  that 
no  harm  came  to  their  cross. 


28 


God's   Wonder   Book 

Marie  Ellerker,  O.  S.  D. 


aOU  have  often  seen  the  deacon  or  server 
accompanying  the  priest  to  the  altar  carry- 
ing the  large  Mass  book  which  is  called  the 
Missal.     You  have  probably  often  wished 
that  you  could  read  Mass  from  it  like  the  priest. 
How  to  do  this  is  what  you  and  I  are  going  to  find 
out  together. 

You  will  want  a  Missal  of  your  own  and  you 
will  want  one  that  is  not  all  in  Latin.  You  can 
secure  one  in  English  and  Latin  from  any  Catholic 
bookseller  by  asking  for  a  "Missal  for  the  Laiety." 
To  me  the  Missal  is  God's  Wonder  Book.  Out 
of  it  the  priest  reads  the  prayers  of  Holy  Mass, 
and  in  it  are  those  most  wonderful,  powerful  words 
which  change  the  bread  and  wine  into  the  Body 
and  Blcod  of  Christ,  and  give  us  Jesus  on  the  altar 
as  our  Emmanuel — our  God  with  us.  How  could 
any  Catholic  help  being  thrilled  at  the  thought  of 
having  a  Missal  of  his  own,  and  knowing  how  to 
use  it  ?  Can  you  think  of  any  better  way  of  hearing 
Holy  Mass,  than  following  word  by  word  the  priest, 
whose  lips  are  being  used  by  Jesus,  the  great  in- 
visible Priest,  who  says  every  Mass? 

I  don't  want  you  to  get  a  wrong  or  a  narrow  idea. 
Every  prayer  is  good  to  say  at  Holy  Mass.  We  must 
never  think  our  way  is  the  only  way.  So  although  I 
want  to  help  you  to  love  your  Missal,  to  love  to  use 
the  Church's  very  own  prayers  during  Mass,  you  must 
never  forget  that  it  is  joining  in  the  great  Act  of 
Sacrifice  that  matters.  If  the  person  next  you  saying 
her  beads  not  too  quietly  is  doing  this  better  than 
you,  then  her  prayer  is  giving  more  glory  to  God 
than  yours,  even  if  you  read  your  whole  Mass  in 
Latin,  and  do  not  miss  a  single  prayer.  I  expect 
a  story  will  help  you  to  understand  how  not  to  hear 
Mass: 

A  certain  little  boy,  whom  we  will  call  Jack, 
wanted  to  pray  well  on  a  certain  special  occasion, 
but  a  very  queer  idea  of  what  praying  well  meant 
had  got  into  his  head.  He  thought  he  would  read 
as  many  prayers  as  he  could  during  Mass!  When 
it  was  over  he  rushed  home  and  announced:  "I 
have  read  the  Ordinary  of  the  Mass  through  eight 
times." 


QOW  let  us  take  our  Missal   and   examine   it. 
I  think  it  will  help  to  make  the  finding  of  our 
places  easier  and  simpler  if  we  made  a  list, 
showing  the  order  in  which  the  parts  of  the  Mass 
come: 

The  Sign  of  the  Cross,  The  Psalm  and  Con- 
fiteor,  The  Introit,  Kyrie  and  Gloria,  Collects,  Epistle 
Gradual  and  Alleluia  or  Tract,  Gospel,  Creed.  The 
Offering  of  the  Bread  and  Wine,  Lavabo,  Secret 
Prayers,  Preface.  Prayers  for  the  Living,  Con- 
secration and  Elevation,  Prayers  following  the  Con- 
secration, including  Prayer  for  the  Dead.  Our 
Father,  Lamb  of  God,  Lord,  I  am  not  worthy, 
Priest's  Communion.  Communion,  Post-Communion, 
Priest's  blessing,  Last  Gospel. 

In  the  ages  of  faith,  even  tiny  children  were 
not  unfamiliar  with  the  inside  of  a  Missal,  I  have 
just  read  this  little  story  in  a  life  of  St.  Hugh  of 
Lincoln.  Speaking  of  St.  Hugh's  chaplain,  the 
writer  says: 

"This  priest  tells  us  how  he  had  the  honour 
of  giving  the  first  lesson  to  one  of  the  nephews 
of  the  Saint.  The  pupil,  who  was  just  seven  years 
old,  and  whose  name  was  John,  had  accompanied 
his  uncle  to  Belley.  It  was  in  the  cathedral  of  that 
town,  and  upon  the  altar  dedicated  to  St.  John  the 
Baptist,  that  a  Missal  was  laid  open,  from  which 
the  little  child  was  to  learn  to  read.  With  this 
beautiful  ceremony,  he  received  his  first  lesson." 

You  must  know  that  in  this  series  of  articles, 
I  am  speaking  particularly  of  Low  Mass,  to  which 
you  will  probably  go  most  often.  Now  and  again, 
I  refer  to  High  Mass  and  its  ceremonies,  especially 
when  there  is  something  which  I  think  will  be  of 
particular  interest  to  you. 
II 

QFTER  making  the  Sign  of  the  Cross  the  priest 
says  alternately  with  the  server  the  beautiful 
42nd.  Psalm.  I  once  heard  the  late  Father 
Bertrand  Wilberfore,  0.  P.,  preach  a  whole  first 
Communion  retreat  from  that  one  Psalm.  This 
should  make  you  look  at  it  carefully,  and  try  to 
make  you  find  out  how  much  there  is  in  it.  You 
must  not  be  like  the  girl  I  once  heard  who  said : 

"I  wonder  why  the  Church  put  that  psalm 
there;  there  seems  to  be  nothing  in  it." 


THE  t  SIGN 


I  wonder  what  verse  of  this  psalm  you  prefer. 
Perhaps  it  is  the  Antiphon :  "I  will  go  unto  the  altar 
of  God :  to  God  who  giveth  joy  to  my  youth." 

Or:  "Send  forth  Thy  light  and  Thy  truth: 
they  have  conducted  me  into  Thy  holy  mount  and 
into  Thy  tabernacles." 

Do  not  only  follow  the  words  of  the  Mass, 
but  notice,  too,  the  ceremonies  which  the  Church 
uses;  they  are  always  full  of  meaning.  For  in- 
stance, at  this  part  of  the  Holy  Mass  the  priest 
bows  down  to  acknowledge  his  sins,  reminding  us 
to  humble  ourselves  ax  the  feet  of  God,  even  as  the 
priest  stands  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  because  we 
are  sinners,  and  unworthy  to  approach  him. 

The  Confiteor  which  the  priest  now  says  has 
not  always  been  in  exactly  the  same  words  with 
which  you  are  familiar.  In  earlier  times  it  was 
much  shorter,  and  a  short  form  is  still  used  by  the 
Carthusians,  Carmelites  and  Dominicans. 

XF  you  go  to  a  Dominican  church,  you  will 
notice  that  the  Fathers  do  not  say  the  42nd 
Psalm.  They  prepare  their  chalice  before 
beginning  Mass,  and  then,  having  found  the  place 
in  the  Missal,  they  stand  at  the  middle  of  the  altar, 
and  say  the  little  prayer : 

"Prevent,  O  Lord,  our  actions  by  Thy  inspira- 
tion, and  further  them  by  Thy  help  that  every 
work  of  ours  may  always  begin  from  Thee,  and  by 
Thee  be  happily  ended.  Through  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.    Amen." 

Coming  to  the  foot  of  the  altar,  the  priest  makes 
the  Sign  of  the  Cross,  saying  "Praise  the  Lord  for 
He  is  good,"  to  which  the  server  answers:  "For 
His  mercy  endureth  for  ever." 

Then  follows  the  Confiteor. 

This  is  the  short  form  used  by  Dominicans: 

"I  confess  to  Almighty  God,  and  to  blessed 
Mary  ever  virgin,  and  to  blessed  Dominic  our  Father, 
and  to  all  the  Saints  and  to  you,  Father,  that  I 
have  sinned  exceedingly  by  thought,  word,  deed, 
and  omission,  through  my  fault,  and  I  beseech  you 
to  pray  for  me." 

Notice  the  beautiful  wording  of  the  Misereatur 
prayer  which  follows : 

"May  Almighty  God  have  mercy  upon  you, 
and  may  He  forgive  you  all  your  sins;  may  He  free 
you  from  all  evil;  may  He  save  you  and  strengthen 
you  in  every  good  work,  and  may  He  lead  you  to  life 
eternal.    Amen." 


Ill 

^^^HE  Confiteor  with  its  accompanying  versicles 
l  J  ended,  the  priest  goes  up  to  the  altar,  saying: 
"Take  away  from  us  our  iniquities,  we 
beseech  Thee,  0  Lord,  that  we  may  be  worthy  to 
enter  with  pure  minds  into  the  Holy  of  Holies, 
throught  Christ  our  Lord.  Amen." 

Having  reached  the  altar,  you  will  see  him  bend 
down  and  kiss  it.  This  is  a  mark  of  respect,  be- 
cause the  altar  is  a  figure  of  Jesus  Christ  Himself; 
it  is  also  done  to  reverence  the  martyrs  "whose 
relics  are  here." 

At  High  Mass  the  altar  is  now  incensed  for 
the  first  time.  Do  not  forget  to  notice  the  cere- 
monies. For  instance,  you  will  see  that  the  deacon, 
when  handing  anything  to,  or  taking  anything  from, 
the  priest,  kisses  both  the  object  and  the  hand  of 
the  priest.  In  simple  easy  ways  like  these,  our 
Holy  Mother  the  Church  tries  to  get  into  our  heads 
and  hearts  the  deep  love  and  reverence  we  ought  to 
have  for  this  great  Sacrifice  and  everything  con- 
nected with  it. 

The  Introit  which  follows  is  really  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Mass.  The  Psalm  and  Confiteor,  of 
which  we  have  just  spoken,  were  originally  the 
private  prayers  of  preparation  which  the  priest 
said  as  he  went  in  procession  from  the  sacristy  to 
the  altar.  In  olden  times  these  varied  considerably, 
and  when  at  last  Pope  Pius  V.  fixed  them,  he  pro- 
bably adopted  the  most  popular  form. 

I  think  I  can  make  you  understand  this  from 
the  practice  in  our  own  days  with  regard  to  Holy 
Communion.  You  are  free  to  use  any  prayers  you 
like  in  preparation;  every  prayer  book  has  its  Acts 
before  Communion.  Now  if  our  holy  father  wished 
to  fix  certain  prayers  to  be  said  in  this  country,  he 
might  take  some  widely  used  form,  such,  I  suppose, 
as  that  found  in  the  "Garden  of  the  Soul,"  and 
make  that  the  Church's  prayer  of  preparation. 
Something  like  this  has  happened  in  the  fixing 
of  the  Liturgy. 

While  the  priest  was  saying  his  own  private 
prayers  the  procession  wended  its  way  to  the  altar 
to  the  accompaniment  of  music.  The  choir  sang 
a  Psalm.  One  verse  of  it  was  sung  at  the  beginning 
and  repeated  after  each  succeeding  verse  as  a  sort 
of  refrain.    This  we  call  the  Antiphon. 

The  singing  was  required  only  during  the  pro- 
cession, and  when  it  reached  the  altar,  even  if  the 
Psalm  were  unfinished,  the  Choir  ended  with  the 


THE  t  SIGN 


"Glory  be  to  the  Father"  and  the  Antiphon  repeated. 

The  Introit  is  not  found  in  the  Ordinary  of 
the  Mass,  because  it  is  a  part  which  changes  from 
day  to  day.  You  will  find  it  wherever  the  feast 
that  is  being  kept  is  placed  in  your  Missal. 

You  will  often  be  struck,  not  only  by  the  beauty 
of  the  words  of  the  Introit,  but  by  the  way  they 
just  suit  the  feast  for  which  they  have  been  chosen. 
Take  your  Missal  and  look  at  the  Introit  for  the 
feast  of  Corpus  Christi,  and  the  three  Introits  for 
Christmas  day. 

IV 

eOING  to  the  middle  of  the  Altar,  the  priest 
says  alternately  with  the  server  the  Kyrie 
Eleison. 

These  are  two  Greek  words  which  mean :  "Lord 
have  mercy  on  us."  They  are  an  invocation  to  the 
Blessed  Trinity.  "Kyrie  Eleison"  is  said  three  times 
to  God  the  Father;  the  "Christe  Eleison"  three  times 
to  God  the  Son;  and  again  three  times  "Kyrie 
Eleison"  to  God  the  Holy  Ghost. 

They  are  the  only  Greek  words  in  our  Mass 
now,  if  we  except  some  words  sung  only  on  Good 
Friday.  I  have  said  now,  because  you  should  know 
that  this  could  be  changed  at  any  time  if  the  Church 
thought  such  a  change  wise.  At  one  time  in  Rome 
itself  the  entire  Mass  was  said  in  Greek.  To  this 
day  the  Holy  Sacrifice  is  offered  in  nine  different 
languages  in  different  countries,  by  Catholics  own- 
ing obedience  to  our  holy  Father  the  Pope. 

Besides  the  Greek  of  the  Kyrie,  there  are  in 
the  Mass  some  Hebrew  words — "Amen,"  "Alleluia," 
"Sabaoth,"  "Hosanna."  Writers  who  wish  to  re- 
mind us  that  the  Mass  is  one  and  the  same  sacrifice 
with  that  of  Calvary  sometimes  point  out  that  the 
inscription  upon  the  Cross,  "Jesus  of  Nazareth,  the 
King  of  the  Jews,"  was  written  in  the  three  lan- 
guages of  our  Mass — in  Hebrew,  in  Greek,  and  in 
Latin. 

Except  on  mournful  occasions  the  Kyrie  is  fol- 
lowed by  the  Gloria  in  excelsis  Deo,  the  "Angelic 
Hymn"  as  it  is  often  called,  because  its  opening 
words  are  the  welcome  given  by  the  Angels  on  the 
first  Christmas  night  to  the  Babe  who  was  their 
God  and  King. 

The  Church  has  always  shown  very  special 
devotion  to  the  Gloria.  In  the  early  ages  to  say 
it  was  the  privilege  of  a  Bishop;  it  was  long  years 
before  a  simple  priest  was  allowed  to  say  it  except 
on  Easter  Day  and  the  day  of  his  ordination.  There 
are  many  directions  given  for  the  saying  of  it.    You 


will  see  that  the  priest  goes  to  the  middle  of  the 
altar,  he  extends  his  hands,  raises  them  towards 
heaven,  and  then  rejoins  them.  Several  times  he  is 
told  to  bow  his  head.  These  directions  are  called 
"rubrics,"  from  a  Latin  word  meaning  "red."  In 
the  priests's  Missal  they  are  printed  in  red,  so  that 
they  may  stand  out  from  the  actual  words  of  the 
Mass. 

You  should  love  to  make  yourself  familiar  with 
the  rubrics,  then  you  will  know  when  to  bow  your 
head  if  you  are  at  a  High  Mass  and  the  Gloria  is 
being  sung. 

The  Gloria,  like  the  Kyrie,  is  a  prayer  addressed 
to  the  Blessed  Trinity.  The  first  part  is  to  God  the 
Father;  from  "O  Lord  Jesus  Christ"  to  God  the 
Son;  and  the  words  "With  the  Holy  Ghost"  to 
God  the  Holy  Ghost. 

SATHER  Nieubarn,  O.  P.,  in  a  book  called 
"The  Holy  Sacrifice  and  its  Ceremonies," 
has  a  very  nice  thought.  He  says:  "This 
hymn  of  praise  throws  into  relief  the  four  principal 
ends  of  the  Mass.  It  is  a  hymn  of  adoration,  "We 
adore  Thee;"  of  thanksgiving,  "We  give  Thee 
thanks;"  of  propitiation,  "Who  takest  away  the 
sins  of  the  world;"  of  supplication,  "Receive  our 
prayers." 

I  knew  a  person  to  whom  the  good  God  had 
sent  many  and  heavy  crosses.  She  was  a  very  brave 
woman,  and  very  generous,  and  she  had  a  great 
devotion  to  the  Gloria  in  excelsis.  Once  she  had 
been  cut  to  the  heart  by  the  cruel  conduct  of  one 
whom  she  loved.  She  had  been  telling  me  of  her 
grief,  and  ended  very  simply  by  saying:  "I  went 
down  the  steps,  but  I  could  hardly  see  where  I  was 
going,  and  when  I  reached  the  gate  I  just  leaned 
against  it,  and  said  the  Gloria  right  through."  I 
think  that  was  splendid.  It  must,  I  am  sure,  have 
sounded  like  beautiful  music  in  the  ears  of  God. 

As  a  last  thought  I  suggest  to  you  that  you 
should  read  the  Gloria  very  slowly,  and  see  what 
a  beautiful  thanksgiving  it  would  make  for  Holy 
Communion. 

"Glory  be  to  God  on  high,  and  on  earth  peace  to 
men  of  good  will.  We  praise  Thee;  we  bless  Thee; 
we  adore  Thee;  we  glorify  Thee.  We  give  Thee 
thanks  for  Thy  great  glory,  O  Lord  God,  heavenly 
King,  God  the  Father  Almighty.  0  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  the  only  begotten  Son;  O  Lord  God,  Lamb 
of  God,  Son  of  the  Father,  who  takest  away  the 
sins  of  the  world,  have  mercy  on  us;  Thou  who 


31 


THE  +  SIGN 


takest  away  the  sins  of  the  world,  receive  our 
prayers;  Thou  who  sittest  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
Father,  have  mercy  on  us.  For  Thou  only  art  holy : 
Thou  only  art  the  Lord :  Thou  only,  0  Jesus  Christ, 
with  the  Holy  Ghost,  art  most  high  in  the  glory  of 
God  the  Father.    Amen." 

(A  Dominican  says  the  Kyrie  standing  in  front 
of  his  Missal.  For  the  Gloria  in  excelsis  he  goes  to 
the  middle  of  the  altar  and  says  the  first  words, 
but  then  returns  'and  reads  the  rest  of  it  from  the 
book.) 


HFTER  the  Gloria  in  excelsis,  the  priest  turns 
round  to  exchange  with  the  people  the  holy 
wish: 

"The  Lord  be  with  you." 

"And  with  thy  spirit." 

Do  you  know  how  many  times  this  is  said 
during  Mass? 

Then,  going  to  the  Missal,  he  reads  from  the 
Proper  of  the  day  the  prayer  called  the  Collect. 
It  is  usually  short,  very  beautiful,  and  asks  for  one 
thing. 

Nearly  all  these  prayers  are  addressed  to  God 
the  Father,  a  few  to  God  the  Son,  and  none  to  God 
the  Holy  Ghost. 

Sometimes  only  one  Collect  is  read  at  Mass, 
but  there  can  be  as  many  as  seven.  These  extra 
ones  may  be  in  honour  of  some  feast  which  is  being 
kept,  or  prayers  ordered  by  the  Bishop,  or  sometimes 
chosen  by  the  priest  who  is  saying  Mass.  You  will 
notice  when  there  are  several  that  the  priest  ends 
the  first  one  with  the  usual  ending,  some  such  words 
as  these :  "Through  Jesus  Christ  Thy  Son  our  Lord, 
who  lives  and  reigns  with  Thee  in  the  unity  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  world  without  end.    Amen." 

The  other  prayers  he  says  as  one,  and  only 
the  last  is  ended  with  these  or  similar  words. 

The  Collect  is  the  Church's  prayer  for  the  day, 
and  is  said  not  only  at  Mass,  but  at  the  various 
Hours  of  the  Divine  Office.  These  prayers  of  the 
Church  are  very  beautiful.  It  seems  a  pity  we  do 
not  use  them  much  more  often  in  our  private  de- 
votions instead  of  some  of  those  found  in  modern 
prayer-books,  which  cannot  be  compared  with  them 
for  beauty  of  language  or  accuracy  of  thought.  Look 
through  them,  and  see  if  you  cannot  find  in  them 
just  what  you  want  to  say  to  God.  They  will  give 
you,  too,  the  spirit  of  the  Church. 

This  is  the  collect  for  the  second  Sunday  of 


Advent.  You  cannot  help  feeling  how  perfectly  it 
expresses  the  thought  proper  to  this  time  of  pre- 
paration for  the  coming  of  the  King:  "Stir  up, 
O  Lord,  our  hearts  to  prepare  the  ways  of  Thy  only 
begotten  Son,  that  by  His  coming  we  may  be  enabled 
*o  serve  Thee  with  pure  minds.     Amen." 

VI 

>~ i'OU   will   often  have   brought  home   to   you 

I**}'  during  your  life,  especially  in  your  reading 

and  in  your   studies,  the   marvellous   power 

which  the  Catholic  Church  has  of  preserving  things. 

Our  Divine  Lord  gave  her  the  mission  to  "go 
and  teach  all  nations."  Now  you  will  discover  that 
when  the  Church  found  amongst  the  people  she 
was  striving  to  win  to  Christ  some  custom  c 
ceremony  wmcn  could  be  kept  and  blessed  and 
used  for  the  service  of  God,  she  took  it  and  made  it 
her  own.  If  you  fix  in  your  mind  this  beautiful 
idea  of  the  Church  as  a  preserver,  you  will  nevei 
be  like  the  poor  lady  with  whom  I  was  speaking 
some  time  ago.  We  were  talking  about  the  Mass, 
and  at  a  certain  point  I  said:  "That  is  one  of  the 
many  things  which  the  Church  owes  to  the  Syna 
gogue."  Her  answer  was:  "What  a  shocking  and 
disloyal  thing  to  say!" 

Now  the  Lessons  read  at  Holy  Mass  are  certainly 
an  inheritance  from  the  services  in  the  Synagogue 
in  which  Our  Blessed  Lord  Himself  so  often  joined, 
and  part  of  which  consisted  of  portions  read  from 
the  Sacred  Scriptures.  On  ordinary  occasions  there 
are  now  only  two  of  these  portions,  one  of  which 
we  call  the  Epistle  and  one  the  Gospel,  but  in 
former  times  there  were  several.  You  can  see  traces 
of  this  still  in  some  Masses,  for  example,  on  Ember 
days. 

The  first  Lesson  came  to  be  called  the  Epistle, 
because  it  is  so  often  taken  from  the  letters  of  the 
Apostles  and  chiefly  from  St.  Paul's,  but  this  is  not 
always  the  case.  Look  at  your  Mass  for  the  Holy 
Innocents,  the  Immaculate  Conception,  and  there 
are  many  other  instances  where  the  first  Lesson  is 
not  taken  from  an  Epistle. 

In  the  early  Church  the  Acts  of  the  Martyrs 
were  sometimes  read  instead  of  a  passage  from  the 
Holy  Bible. 

In  your  Missal  a  certain  definite  passage  is 
printed,  and  you  know  that  just  this  will  be  read, 
neither  more  nor  less.  At  one  time,  however,  the 
reader  went  on  until  the  celebrant  made  him  a  sign 
to  stop. 


32 


THE  t  SIGN 


To  read  the  Epistle  is  the  privilege  of  the  sub- 
deacon.  When  he  is  ordained  a  book  is  given  to 
him  by  the  Bishop. 

This  Lesson  is  read  at  the  south  side  of  the  altar, 
which  we  call  the  Epistle  side.  We  sit  during  it  and 
other  Lessons,  if  there  are  others,  always  with  the 
exception  of  the  Gospel.  At  the  end  the  server 
answers:  "Deo  gratias."     (Thanks  be  to  God.) 

^^^HE  Epistle  at  the  end  of  this  article  is  taken 
y  J  from  the  Mass  for  the  Feast  of  St.  Thomas 
Aquinas,  the  Patron-Saint  of  Catholic  schol- 
ars. It  is  an  example  of  a  Lesson  which  is  not  really 
an  Epistle;  it  comes  from  the  Book  of  Wisdom  in 
the  Old  Testament.  It  helps  many  people  to  let  the 
thoughts  put  before  them  in  the  morning  Mass  go 
through  the  whole  day.  If  you  think  it  will  help 
you,  you  could  sometimes  take  your  Missal  when 
you  go  to  make  your  visit  to  Jesus  in  the  Tabernacle. 
For  example,  you  could  easily  make  this  Epistle 
for  the  feast  of  St.  Thomas  into  a  Eucharistic  prayer, 
by  replacing  the  words  "Spirit  of  Wisdom"  by  "the 
Blessed  Sacrament."  At  the  end  you  would  then 
get:  "For  the  Blesed  Sacrament  is  an  infinite  treas- 
ure to  men,  which  they  that  use  become  the  friends 
of  God." 

That  is  surely  most  true. 


Epistle  for  the  Feast  of  St.  Thomas  Aquinas. 
(Wisdom  vii.  7-14.) 

I  wished  and  understanding  was  given  me  :  and 
I  called  upon  God,  and  the  spirit  of  wisdom  came 
upon  me: 

And  I  preferred  her  before  kingdoms  and 
thrones,  and  esteemed  riches  nothing  in  comparison 
of  her. 

Neither  did  I  compare  unto  her  any  precious 
stone :  for  all  gold  in  comparison  of  her,  is  as  a  little 
sand,  and  silver  in  respect  to  her  shall  be  counted 
as  clay. 

I  loved  her  above  health  and  beauty,  and  chose 
to  have  her  instead  of  light :  for  her  light  cannot  be 
put  out 

Now  all  good  things  came  to  me  together  with 
her,  and  innumerable  riches  through  her  hands. 

And  I  rejoiced  in  all  these:  for  this  wisdom 
went  before  me,  and  I  knew  not  that  she  was  the 
mother  of  them  all. 

Which  I  have  learned  without  guile,  and  com- 
municate without  envy,  and  her  riches  I  hide  not. 

For  she  is  an  infinite  treasure  to  men!  which 
they  that  use,  become  the  friends  of  God,  being 
commended  for  the  gift  of  discipline. 

(To  Be  Continued) 


Ballad  of  Christ  Crucified 


J.  Corson  Miller 


They  took  the  good  Lord,  Christ,  with,  staves 

On  the  nigkt  before  He  died; 
They  baited  Him  with  taunts  and  jeers, 

Until  the  angels  cried. 
But  we — smug  citizens  of  earth, 

We  are  not  satisfied. 

Tkey  bailed  tbe  good  Cbrist  to  court, 

On  trumped-up  charges  all; 
Tkey  ckeated  Him  of  ev*ery  rigkt, 

To  bring  about  kis  fall. 
'Tis  so  to-day,  for  Greed  and  Fraud 

Make  Hell's  kigk  carnival. 

Tkey  scourged  tke  good  Lord  Ckrist  \0itk  ^kips, 

Till  blood  dripped  to  tke  floor; 
Tkey  crov?ned  Him  witk  a  wreatk  of  tkorns 

Tkat  cut  and  cruelly1  tore. 
But  we,  for  'tfkom  He  suffered  all, 

We  laugk,  and  call  for  "More!" 


Tkey*  placed  a  cross  on  tke  Lord,  Ckrist's  back 

No  kuman  strengtk  could  bear; 
Tkey  kicked  and  cuffed  and  goaded  Him, 

To  drive  Him  to  despair. 
Yet  kad  we  been  tkere  by  tke  road, 

We'd  but  ka\>e  stopped  to  stare. 

Tkey  nailed  tke  Ckrist  to  a  gallows-tree, 

And  stripped  kim  of  His  gov?n; 
Before  His  blood-filmed  ey*es  tkere  stood 

Tke  wkole  revengeful  town. 
And  many  carry  still  to-day1 

Tkat  selfsame,  angry"  frown. 

Tke  Good  Lord,  Ckrist,  died  in  His  blood, 

On  a  kill  tkat  bitter  day; 
Bnt  v?e — v?e  crucify  Him  still, 

In  ev'ery  sinful  way. 
O  Citizens  of  all  tke  world, 

Kneel  dotfn,  and  let  us  pray! 


What  Do  You  Know  About: 


Tke  Pope  and  the 

^-— -^ITH  its  customary  effusiveness  our  Ameri- 
W  I  ^  can  press  devoted  a  great  deal  of  space 
\M/   to  the  recent  Conclave  which  elected  Pope 
Pius  XL 

Readers  have  been  surfeited  with  all  sorts  of 
prognostications  as  to  who  would  succeed  Benedict 
XV.  and  what  would  be  his  policy  particularly  as 
touching  the  relations  of  the  Vatican  with  the 
Quirinal. 

The  greater  part  of  what  was  printed  was 
simply  the  guess-work  of  unknown  and  irresponsible 
reporters  and  editors  who  are  not  much  troubled 
above  the  source  of  their  information  or  the  basis 
of  their  speculation. 

The  American  mind,  trained,  one  would  say,  to 
see  in  every  election  merely  the  sway  of  political 
motives  and  interests,  chose  to  make  the  attitude  of 
the  incoming  Pope  toward  the  Italian  Government 
the  predominant  issue  of  the  Conclave. 

The  Papacy  must,  of  course,  have  relations  with 
the  governments  of  the  world  and  consequently  must 
have  what  is  called  a  foreign  policy. 

But  we  Catholics  should  not  forget  that  the 
paramount  relations  of  the  Holy  See  are  immediate- 
ly and  supremely  concerned  with  the  service  of 
God  and  the  welfare  of  souls.  Mere  newspaper 
talk  should  not  make  us  think  otherwise. 

With  the  election  of  Pope  Pius  XL  it  was  pro- 
claimed that  the  attitude  of  the  Church  towards  the 
Italian  Government  would  be  quite  conciliatory  and 
therefore  proportionately  progressive. 

Mere  change  is  not  progress.  Conciliation  may 
be  very  unprogressive.  Catholics  should  remember 
the  following  principles  and  facts : 

FIRST.  The  Pope  must  be  independent  of  any 
Government.  He  is  the  visible  head  of  the  Catholic 
Church.  That  Church  is,  as  its  name  implies,  inter- 
national. It  is  a  divine  institution  with  a  super- 
national  purpose.  It  is  distinct  from  and  above  all 
civil  organizations.  It  embraces  all  peoples  and 
must  not  be  identified  with  any  one  race  or 
nationality. 

SECOND.  This  principle  was  universally 
recognized.  Hardly  had  the  Church  emerged  from 
the  catacombs  when  the  independence  of  the  Papacy 
was  assured.  As  early  as  the  fifth  century  we 
have  the  beginnngs  of  what  is  known  as  the  Tem- 
poral Power. 


Italian   Goverment? 

THIRD.  This  principle  was  violated.  When 
in  1870  the  House  of  Savoy  robbed  the  Pope  of  the 
Pontifical  States  it  not  only  flagrantly  broke  the 
seventh  commandment  by  wholesale  theft  but  also 
violated  the  Pope's  right  to  remain  absolutely  free 
in  an  independent  state.  No  other  ruler  had  such 
unquestionable  rights  to  his  territory  as  had  the 
Pope. 

FOURTH.  This  principle  was  partially 
recognized  by  the  Quirinal.  After  the  confiscation 
of  the  Papal  States  the  Italian  Parliament  in  1871 
passed  the  so-called  Law  of  Guarantees.  By  this 
law  the  Pope  was  declared  independent  of  Italian 
jurisdiction;  the  Vatican  property  was  made  extra- 
territorial; a  sum  of  $600,000  annually  was  appro- 
priated for  the  maintainance  of  the  Pope  in  lieu  of 
the  revenues  of  which  he  had  been  ruthlessly 
defrauded. 

FIFTH.  The  Popes  have  consistently  main- 
tained this  principle.  In  accordance  with  this  princi- 
ple of  absolute  independence  Popes  Pius  IX.,  Leo 
XIII. ,  Pius  X.  and  Benedict  XV.  have  unhesitatingly 
rejected  the  overtures  of  the  Italian  Government. 
They  have  never  accepted  the  moneys  offered  them. 
They  have  never  relinquished  their  claim  to  the 
Papal  States.  They  have  refused  to  traverse  Italian 
territory,  and  have  remained  secluded  within  the 
limits  of  the  Vatican  palace  and  gardens.  The  Pope 
has  been  called  a  prisoner.  He  is  a  prisoner  not  in 
the  sense  that  he  is  confined  in  the  Vatican  but  in 
the  sense  that  of  his  own  will  he  will  not  leave  it. 

All  the  Popes  since  the  Italian  usurpation  have 
been  remarkable  for  their  foresight  and  political 
sagacity.  No  fair-minded  man  can  attribute  to  them 
other  motives  than  those  best  advancing  the  weighty 
interests  of  their  tremendous  trust. 

Any  agreement  between  the  Vatican  and  the 
Quirinal  that  would  imply  the  subordination  of  the 
Papacy  to  the  Italian  Government  would  make  the 
head  of  Christendom  the  subject  of  a  temporal  ruler 
and  would  arouse  endless  suspicions  among  other 
nations. 

This  would  be  true  of  any  other  nation  making 
such  an  agreement.  It  was  because  of  the  particular 
influences  that  threatened  that  the  whole  Catholic 
world  protested  against  the  establishment  of  the 
Papal  court  at  Avignon,  and  the  forced  detention  by 
Napoleon  of  Pius  VII.  in  France. 


Archconfraternity)  of 


Success   of 

'M'^^HE  work  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the 
M  Cj  Passion  is  best  described  by  the  Apostle 
^^_  V  St.  Paul  when  he  says:  "We  preach  Christ 
Crucified."  Every  effort  of  the  Society  is 
made  with  this  end  in  view  to  persuade  the 
people  to  remember  devoutly  and  frequently  the 
Sacred  Passion  of  Our  Lord. 

The  salutary  results  of  this  constant  preaching 
of  the  Cross  is  of  course  also  intended  by  the 
Society.  The  more  faithfully  and  generously  the 
people  practice  some  devotion  to  Christ  Crucified, 
the  greater  is  their  desire  for  virtue  and  piety  and 
holiness.  The  example  of  the  saints  abundantly 
proves  that  the  study  of  the  Crucifix  inspires  self 
sacrifice,  and  gives  courage  and  strength  to  be  true 
servants  of  God.  Moreover,  the  Cross  and  Passion 
more  than  any  other  religious  truth  converts  sinners 
and  teaches  them  repentance  and  the  safe  way  to 
happiness  and  eternal  life.  The  history  of  Our 
Divine  Lord's  sufferings  and  sacrifice  leaves  a  deep 
and  lasting  impression  on  those  who  are  "not  of  the 
true  fold,"  and  very  often  brings  them  to  a  know- 
ledge of  the  truth  and  secures  for  them  the  gift  of 
faith. 

These  different  aims  of  the  Archconfraternity 
are  attained  by  prayer  and  example,  by  sermons  and 
services  in  honor  of  the  Passion,  and  by  the  distri- 
bution of  devotional  leaflets.  The  society  desires 
in  every  possible  way  to  keep  the  Passion  before  the 
eyes  of  men. 

Three  years  ago,  on  Passion  Sunday,  the  Arch- 
confraternity of  the  Passion  was  formally  established 
at  St.  Michael's  Church,  West  Hoboken,  N.  J.  This 
was  the  first  place  in  America  to  become  a  center 
of  the  society.  Our  late  Holy  Father,  Pope  Benedict 
XV.  bestowed  new  honors  and  privileges  on  the 
Archconfraternity,  and  expressed  the  hope  that  it 
would  soon  spread  throughout  the  world.  The 
Superior  General  of  the  Passionist  Congregation, 
Most  Rev.  Father  Silvius,  then  urged  all  the  Fathers 
and  especially  the  Missionaries  to  take  an  active 


the    Sacred    P 


assion 


the    Society* 

interest  in  the  society,  and  to  do  as  much  as  they 
could  do  to  promote  its  success.  The  record  of  the 
past  three  years  presents  the  generous  efforts  of 
the  members  to  promote  devotion  to  the  Passion  and 
also  the  great  events  in  which  they  may  justly  claim 
to  have  taken  an  important  part. 

fINCE  the  solemn  inauguration  of  the  Arch- 
confraternity in  West  Hoboken,  there  have 
been  thirty  six  meetings,  which  with  very  few 
exceptions,  were  well  attended.  The  few  exceptions 
occurred  on  account  of  stormy  weather,  or  because 
for  some  reason  the  regular  meeting  was  not  held 
on  the  fourth  Sunday  of  the  month. 

The  chief  feature  of  Archconfraternity  meetings 
is  the  sermon  on  the  Passion  of  Our  Lord.  These 
discourses,  thirty  six  in  number,  were  by  different 
Fathers  of  the  Monastery  and  presented  the  Cross 
and  Passion  more  in  an  instructive  style  than  in 
making  known  the  incidents  and  facts  of  this 
mystery.  The  object  of  the  sermon  is  not  only  to 
make  the  people  acquainted  with  the  sufferings  of 
Christ  but  especially  to  teach  them  the  virtues  and 
lessons  of  the  Cross  and  Passion.  The  discourses, 
it  may  be  said,  have  contributed  much  to  the  success 
of  the  Archconfraternity. 

At  the  regular  meeting  of  the  Archconfraternity, 
new  members  were  received  and  invested  with  the 
Black  Scapular  of  the  Passion.  There  are  about 
five  thousand  names  on  the  register  of  the  society. 
The  members  divide  themselves  into  three  classes. 
Some  give  their  names  and  enroll  as  members,  and 
attend  the  meetings  very  seldom.  They  lose  none 
of  the  blessings  of  the  Archconfraternity  if  they 
strive  to  practice  devotion  to  the  passion  and 
endeavor  to  persuade  others  to  think  of  Christ 
Crucified.  The  second  class  of  members  very 
seldom  absent  themselves  from  a  meeting.  They 
keep  the  fourth  Sunday  of  the  month  as  the  day  of 
Our  Lord's  Passion,  and  hold  to  the  resolution  of 
faithfully  attending  the  twelve  meetings  of  the  year. 


THE  f  SIGN 


A  third  class  are  members,  who  take  the  most  active 
interest  in  the  Archconfraternity.  They  bring  new 
members  with  them  to  almost  every  meeting.  They 
try  every  month  to  make  the  society  known  to 
people,  who  never  heard  of  it.  They  are  assiduous 
in  devotion  to  Jesus  Crucified,  and  by  their  prayers 
and  example  contribute  most  to  the  success  of  the 
Archconfraternity. 

Devotional  leaflets  of  the  Sacred  Passion  have 
been  freely  distributed  at  every  meeting.  Within 
the  past  three  years,  more  than  seventy  five  thousand 
of  these  small  pictures  and  prayers  of  the  Passion 
have  been  given  away.  That  they  have  made  the 
Archconfraternity  better  known  and  have  assisted 
considerably  in  promoting  devotion  to  the  Passion 
may  be  judged  from  the  number  distributed  and  the 
many  requests  for  them.  An  advantage  in  the  publi- 
cation of  these  devotions  is  the  power  given  to  the 
members  to  reach  all  their  relatives  and  friends,  and 
to  bring  before  their  attention,  as  nothing  else  could 
do,  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Christ.  They  usually 
contain  the  prayers  blessed  with  rich  indulgences 
and  are  a  source  of  many  favors  to  those  who  use 
them. 

S  FIENDS  of  the  Archconfraternity  to  express 
grateful  devotion  to  Christ  Crucified  have 
donated  the  large  Crucifix,  which  appeals  to 
"all  who  pass  by"  to  remember  His  sufferings  and 
death.  The  banner  of  the  society,  the  gift  of  some 
members,  is  always  displayed  at  the  regular  meet- 
ings. The  beautiful  shrine  of  St.  Gabriel  is  also 
due  in  some  measure  to  the  members  of  the  Arch- 
confraternity of  the  Passion. 

By  their  prayers  and  good  works,  the  members 
have  contributed  a  great  share  to  important  events 
within  the  past  three  years.  Besides  many  retreats 
and  missions  given  by  the  Passionist  Missionaries, 
they  have  done  much  to  promote  the  society  in  other 
places.  The  Archconfraternity  is  now  established  in 
a  number  of  churches  in  different  parts  of  the 
country,  and  in  almost  every  country  in  the  world 
where  the  Passionist  Congregation  labors  for  the 
salvation  of  souls. 

The  members  may  claim  some  share  in  the 
success  attending  the  thanksgiving  celebration  of  the 
Canonization  of  St.  Gabriel,  and  the  Two  Hundreth 


Anniversary  of  the  foundation  of  the  Congregation 
of  the  Passion.  By  their  fervent  prayers  the  members 
of  the  Archconfraternity  have  promoted  the  mission 
to  China,  so  that  some  of  the  Fathers  have  been  able 
to  start  for  that  country  and  have  thus  far  been 
protected  and  encouraged  with  every  blessing.  The 
future  success  of  the  Chinese  mission  depends  more 
on  prayer  than  anything  else,  and  the  society  will 
continue  to  do  its  part  to  promote  it. 

The  spiritual  treasury  of  the  society  reveals 
many  Masses  heard  and  Holy  Communions  received, 
and  prayers  said,  and  sacrifices  made,  generous  acts 
of  virtue  for  promotion  of  the  devotion  to  the  Sacred 
Passion.  But  as  God  is  never  outdone  in  generosity, 
many  blessings  and  divine  favors  have  been  received 
by  the  members  of  the  Archconfraternity.  For  the 
success  of  the  past  three  years,  sincere  and  generous 
gratitude  is  offered  to  Jesus  Crucified. 

gS  the  Archconfraternity  begins  its  fourth  year, 
it  is  with  the  hope  that  God  will  bless  the 
society  with  even  greater  success.  It  is  desir- 
ed that  not  only  the  number  of  members  will  increase 
but  that  more  zealous  efforts  will  be  made  to  think 
of  the  Passion  frequently  and  to  keep  it  in  view  of 
others.  It  is  the  aim  of  the  Archconfraternity  to 
bring  the  lessons  of  the  Cross  into  every  home,  to 
build  a  shrine  for  Christ  Crucified  in  every  heart,  to 
strengthen  souls  in  every  virtue,  to  give  them  new 
motives  for  avoiding  sin,  to  arrest  the  attention  of 
Non-Catholics  that  they  may  come  to  a  knowledge 
of  the  truth  through  the  Sacred  Passion  of  Our  Lord. 

In  the  year  to  come,  the  Archconfraternity  will 
continue  to  preach  Crucified  by  means  of  devotional 
leaflets  and  books  and  instructive  sermons.  The 
members  will  again  and  again  offer  their  aid  by 
prayers  for  the  success  of  missions  and  retreats,  and 
all  other  good  works  that  will  promote  the  grateful 
remembrance  of  Our  Suffering  Savior. 

The  success  of  the  Archconfraternity  spreads 
everywhere  the  influence  of  the  Cross.  The  more 
people  turn  their  thoughts  and  their  hearts  to  Christ 
on  Calvary,  the  more  they  become  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  the  Passion,  the  greater  honor  and  glory  will 
be  given  to  God,  and  the  peace  and  happiness,  which 
He  alone  can  give,  will  come  more  and  more  into  the 
homes  and  lives  of  men. 


From   Seattle   to   Yokohama 

In  Company)  With  The  Passionist  Missionaries 


Vm-^ITH  a  prayer  of  gratitude  on 
Ml  our  lips  we  alighted  at 
^-*^  Seattle,  the  "Metropolis  of 
the  West."  Already  the  spell  of 
the  Far  East  began  to  envelope  us, 
for  the  porters  who  eagerly  sought 
to  lighten  our  baggage  problems 
were  all  sons  of  Nippon. 

We  had  expected  to  shift  for  our- 
selves, once  we  arrived  in  Seattle. 
You  can  easily  imagine  our  sur- 
prise, then,  when  we  were  accosted 
by  two  Jesuit  Scholastics  who  in- 
formed us  that  we  were  to  be  the 
guests  of  the  Fathers  during  our 
stay  in  the  city.  How  they  knew 
of  our  coming  is  still  a  mystery. 

It  was,  indeed,  an  honor  to  enjoy 
the  hospitality  of  the  Jesuits  who 
have  been  among  the  pioneers  in 
the  "Great  Oregon  Country."  De 
Smet,  Cataldo,  etc.,  are  names  to 
conjure  with-  in  the  missionary  field. 
Their  spirit  is  strong  in  their 
present-day  successors.  One  has 
only  to  talk  with  these  to  know  of 
their  keen  interest  in  the  missions 
of  the  Far  East.  To  the  Rector, 
Father  O'Shea,  and  his  Brethren 
we  offer  our  sincere  thanks. 

Early  the  next  morning  we  ran 
into  something  —  "the  Maryknoll 
Smile."  It  was  no  mere  accident. 
We  had  looked  forward  with 
pleasure  to  this  visit.  So  we  knew 
the  "smile"  would  be  there.  Have 
you  ever  met  that  smile?  Get 
acquainted  with  it,  especially  you 
who  live  in  the  vicinity  of  New 
York  City  or  Scranton. 

To  the  Western  Teresians  we 
brought  the  good  wishes  of  their 
Superior,  Mother  Joseph.  In  Seattle 
the  Sisters  conduct  a  kindergarten, 
established  in  May,  1920,  for  Japan- 
ese children.  The  children  gave  us 
a  great  entertainment.  They  danced 
and  they  sang  and  they  said  their 
Catholic  prayers.  Little  would  one 
suspect  that  the  great  majority  of 
them  are  pagans!  Only  three  or 
four  of  them  have  been  baptized. 

Our  next  visit  was  to  the  Rt.  Rev. 
Edward  J.  O'Dea,  Bishop  of  Seattle. 
With  wrapt  attention  we  listened  to 
his     reminiscences     of     missionary 


work  among  the  Indians,  and  we 
fear  that  he  has  left  his  heart  or 
a  great  portion  of  it  with  the 
children  of  the  forest.  Who  could 
wonder  at  this  when  hearing  such 
stories  as  that  of  a  poor  squaw  who, , 
in  order  to  make  the  First  Friday, 
travelled  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  with  her  children  and  a  cayuse. 
A  hasty  trip  to  the  steamship 
office  reveals  the  fact  that  there 
is  a  mountain  of  mail  and  packages 


Our  readers  will  be  pleased 
to  get  some  details  of  the  trip 
made  by  the  first  colony  of 
Passionist  Fathers  who  have 
set  forth  to  evangelize  China. 
We  are  happy  to  announce 
that  the  Fathers  will  send  us 
frequent  accounts  of  their 
experiences  in  their  arduous 
labors  for  the  conversion  of 
souls    in    the   Chinese    Empire. 


awaiting  us.  We  learn  also  that 
the  Chinese  Delegates  to  the  Wash- 
ington Conference  are  to  sail  with  us. 
Our  last  afternoon  in  Seattle  was 
spent  in  looking  after  a  multitude 
of  travel  details  and  in  a  short  visit 
to  St.  Teresa's  Home  for  Working 
Girls.  The  Bishop  is  justly  proud  of 
this  institution.  Here  we  met  some 
old  friends  from  Jersey  City.  In 
the  chapel,  a  gem  of  beauty,  Father 
Celestine  said  Mass  on  the  vigil  of 
Christmas. 

VIGIL  of  Christmas!  Long 
looked  for  day !  How  eagerly 
we  packed  up  our  belongings ! 
Farewell  having  been  said  to  the 
good  Jesuits  and  the  Sisters,  we  set 
out  for  the  wharf.  A  Catholic 
architect  and  his  brother  who  had 
shown  us  every  courtesy,  and  a 
Scholastic  accompanied  us. 

Pictures  were  snapped  aboard  the 
boat,  and  at  exactly  eleven  the  good 
ship  Wenatchee  steamed  out  of  the 
harbor.  The  Jazz  band  played 
merrily  on  the  deck  while  the 
37 


passengers  threw  small  rolls  of 
many-colored  paper  to  the  friends 
who  came  to  say  good-bye.  And 
good-bye  it  was  for  us !  Good-bye 
to  home,  to  friends,  to  all  who  had 
made  life  happy  for  us  in  the  good 
old  U.  S.  A.  But  not  good-bye  to 
God:  for  we  felt  that  His  blessing 
was  with  us  as  it  had  never  been 
before. 

The  passengers  were  few,  due  no 
doubt  to  the  holidays.  But  it  was 
not  long  before  a  young  Chinaman 
approached  us  and  offered  his  card. 
His  name  is  Zeulieng  Loo,  repre- 
sentative in  America  of  the  China 
Film  Co.  He  is  young  and  very 
energetic  and  has  high  hopes  for 
movie  business  in  his  native  land. 
From  the  button  on  his  English  golf 
cap  to  the  tip  of  his  patent  leather 
pumps  he  is  perfection  in  dress. 
Though  educated  at  the  Moody 
Bible  School  in  Mt.  Herman,  Mass., 
he  impressed  us  with  the  fact  that 
he  is  not  a  Christian.  Why  should 
he  be?  His  brother  is  a  Christian 
and  he  is  better  than  his  brother — 
therefore! 

Loo  is  accompanied  by  a  young 
man  with  an  Irish  name  and  an  East 
Side  face.  His  business  is  to  bring 
out  the  pictures.  For  some  years 
he  has  been  connected  with  the 
Methodist  Foreign  Mission  Board. 
Now  he  rejoices  in  the  prospect  of 
making  the  movie  in  China  what  it 
is  in  America.  May  the  Lord  for- 
give  him ! 

The  sail  up  the  sound  was 
extremely  pleasant.  Interviewed 
the  purser  about  having  public  Mass 
on  Christmas  Day.  Our  next  stop 
is  Victoria,  B.  C,  where  we  are  to 
take  on  about  250  Chinese  for  the 
steerage. 

Vir^E  had  furnished  two  little 
f  I  1  chapels  in  our  staterooms, 
^*^^  curtaining  off  the  hallowed 
spot  where  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem 
was  soon  to  dwell  once  more 
amongst  the  children  of  men.  Each 
Father  had  the  inestimable  privilege 
of  offering  the  Holy  Sacrifice  three 
times.    Two,  with  a  little  more  zeal 


THE  I4  SIGN 


perhaps,  had  arisen  at  midnight   to 
begin  their  Masses. 

How  we  wish  our  dear  ones  could 
have  been  present!  Hundreds  of 
miles  at  sea,  the  Immaculate  Lamb 
of  God  again  descends  from  Heaven 
to  console,  to  bless,  to  strengthen 
His  humble  missioners.  "Behold  I 
am  with  you  all  days,  even  to  the 
end  of  the  world."  Our  brethren  at 
home,  our  relatives,  our  friends,  our 
benefactors,  none 
were  forgotten. 

The  steward  had 
kindly  consented  to 
fix  up  the  Social 
Hall  for  the  public 
Mass  which  was 
offered  at  nine 
o'clock.  The  piano 
was  the  altar, 
flowers  were  ar- 
-anged  neatly  about, 
and  the  chairs  put 
into  place.  At  ten 
minutes  to  the  hour, 
the  bell-boy  march- 
ed through  the  ship 
striking  a  Chinese 
gong,  and  announc- 
ing that  Catholic 
services  were  to  be 
held  in  the  Social 
Hall. 

The  attendance 
was  small,  but  very 
cosmopolitan.  We 
had  expected  this, 
as  there  were  com- 
paritively  few  pas- 
sengers aboard. 
Some  of  the  ship's 
officers,  Catholic 
and  Protestant ;  a 
few  Filipinos  ; 
several     of     the  F 

Chinese        legation, 
drawn    by    curiosity — this    was    the 
congregation.     Father  Raphael  cele- 
brated  the   Mass.     Father  Timothy 
assisted   and   preached. 

A  little  exercise  on  deck  keeps  us 
in  condition.  A  istationary  golf- 
course,  shuffle-board,  ring-toss,  serve 
to  keep  the  blood  in  circulation, 
while  a  brisk  walk  along  the  promen- 
ade deck  is  an  excellent  thing  for 
the  appetite. 

Upstairs  we  have  the  bodies  of 
seven  deceased  Chinamen.  Bodies 
are   being   brought   back    to    rest   in 


their  native  country.  Ancient  tra- 
dition. No  expense  is  spared  by 
relatives  to  do  this.  Some  of  the 
more  wealthy  class  always  bring 
their  coffin  with  them.  Li  Hung 
Chang,  famous  diplomat,  carried  his 
throughout  Europe  and  America. 


e 


ACH  day  we  gain  about  forty- 
five  minutes.  At  least  we 
turn  our  watches  back.   Later 


HER   LAMBERT-FR.   TIMOTHY— FR.    FLAY1. 
AGATHO— FR.     CELESTINE— FR.     RAPHAE 

on  we  are  to  lose  a  whole  day  and 
even  up  matters.  The  Captain  will 
decide  the  day  when  the  time  comes. 

We  are  trying  to  write  to  our 
friends.  Not  so  easy !  Recall  a 
joke  told  us  by  Fr.  O'Shea  while  in 
Seattle.  A  Jesuit  missionary  received 
so  many  socks  at  Christmas  from 
the  Sisters,  that  he  wrote  and  asked 
them  if  they  thought  he  were  a 
centipede.  Wish  we  had  the 
tentacles  of  a  centipede  to  write  to 
all  of  our  friends. 

Secured  the  use  of  an  empty  state- 
38 


room  in  which  we  may  celebrate 
Mass.  This  is  quite  an  improvement. 
More  room,  and  much  more  devo- 
tional. We  gather  three  times  a 
day  for  Spiritual  Exercises.  The 
Rosary,  Spiritual  Reading,  Stations 
of  the  Cross  for  our  benefactors, 
living  and  dead,  and  the  prayer  to 
St.  Paul  of  the  Cross. 

A  visit  to  the  steerage  reveals  a 
wonderful  sight.  Shades  of  Mott 
St. !  Hundreds  of 
Chinese  coolies 
squatted  here  and 
there  and  playing 
cards  as  if  their 
very  life  depended 
on  it.  Portholes 
closed,  the  air  blue 
with  tobacco  smoke, 
almost  absolute 
silence,  save  when 
some  excited  indi- 
vidual makes  a  haul 
— or  loses  one.  Evi- 
dently China's  most 
popular  indoor 
sport,  for  the  highly 
educated  gentlemen 
in  first-class  are 
also   devotees. 

Only  three  ladies 
on  board,  so  the 
passenger  list  de- 
clares. Vigil  of 
Christmas  does  not 
appeal  to  them  as 
a  sailing  date,  un- 
doubtedly. In  reali- 
ty there  are  four 
out  "Katie  is  a  Kat," 
and  is  not  listed. 
However  Katie 
misses  none  of  the 
joys  peculiar  to  a 
cat's  life  on  shore,, 
for  she  is  mauled 
and  handled  by  the  "kiddies"  who 
have  one  of  their  own  at  home. 
Clang!  Clang!  Toot!  Toot! 
Bells  ringing,  whistles  blowing!  We 
confess  wc  are  scared.  Sound  of 
feet  is  heard!  Hastening  above  we 
find  it  is  a  fire  and  boat  drill,  a 
Monday  morning  institution  in  ship- 
ping circles.  Cards  in  the  state- 
rooms say  that  all  passengers  should 
be  notified  of  this  a  half  hour 
previously.  It  had  not  been  done,, 
hence  the  excitement. 

Boat  rolling  a  little  to-day.     That 


THE  +  SIGN 


is  "a  little"  to  the  sailors,  but  quite 
enough  for  us.  This  should  not 
bother  the  gentleman  who  lives  next 
door,  for  his  business  is  "looping  the 
loop,"  not  figuratively,  but  actually. 
He  says  he  is  a  show-man  on  his 
way  to  the  great  Carnival  in  Manila. 
All  his  paraphernalia  is  stowed  be- 
low, and  it  is  costing  the  Phillipino 
government  about  six  thousand  dol- 
lars to  bring  him  across.  He  has 
figured  in  some  very  narrow 
escapes.  Geting  a  little  old  for  the 
business.  Would  like  to  break  some 
younger  men  in  for  the  act.  Good 
chance  for  a  young  man  who  wants 
to  see  the  world  "at  various  angles." 
Weather  is  remarkably  fine!  The 
Captain  says  there  must  be  a  good 
Samaritan  on  board.  Such  weather 
remarkable  for  this  season  of  the 
year.  He  doesn't  know  the  secret  of 
it — but  we  do.  Mary,  Star  of  the 
Sea,  is  guiding  us.  The  multitude 
of  fervent  prayers  being  offered  for 
us  by  our  dear  ones  and  friends 
brings  God's  blessing  on  the  voyage. 

J^^RAGEDY!  Not  much  of  it 
i^  on  a  boat  like  this.  Recently 
^^  we  had  just  a  shadow  of  it 
in  our  daily  experience.  The  story 
all  hinges  around  a  "zither."  The 
zither  was  purchased  by  Brother 
Lambert  on  his  way  to  this  country 
for  the  remarkable  sum  of  one 
American  dollar.  Its  ultimate  pur- 
pose is  to  provide  music  for  the  wee 
Chinkees  who  are  to  attend  the 
first  Passionist  school  in  the  Orient. 
Consequently  it  has  been  guarded 
on  the  trip  with  infinite  care.  Care- 
fully wrapped  in  a  blanket,  its 
custodian  has  never,  for  a  moment, 
lost  sight  of  it.  So  true  has  this 
been  that  one  of  the  party  remarked 
"our  journey  has  been  one  sweet 
song,  accompanied  by  a  zither 
always." 

On  the  boat,  it  was  not  consigned 
to  the  baggage  room,  like  ordinary 
luggage,  but  occupied  a  position 
of  honor  in  the  stateroom.  But 
to-day.  Ecco !  It  is  gone!  The 
blanket  remains,  but  not  the  zither. 
What  looks  like  a  case  for  Sherlock 
Holmes  soon  evaporates,  for  sub- 
sequent inquiry  reveals  the  fact 
that  Father  Timothy  has  borrowed 
it,  and  is  busy  picking  on  the  silvery 
wires  in  another  room. 


The  ship's  Surgeon  is  a  remarkable 
character  For  years  he  has  been 
engaged  in  sanitary  work  in  the 
Celestial  Kingdom,  a  fertile  field 
for  this  kind  of  endeavor.  He  has 
a  wide  acquaintance  with  the  mis- 
sionaries— Catholic  and  Non-Catho- 
lic. Speaks  very  highly  of  the  work 
done  by  our  Church.  Says  that  in 
Hunan,  where  we  are  going,  the 
Anglican  Sisters  have  a  hospital ; 
but  remarks  very  candidly  that 
these  same  are  only  a  burlesque  on 
the  old  French  Catholic  nursing 
Sisters. 

Young  Chinaman  accosts  me  to- 
day. A  member  of  the  delegation 
from  Washington.  First  one  to 
make  any  advances.  He  has  been 
educated  at  the  University  of  Brus- 
sels. Some  questions  to  ask.  Have 
we  a  church  in  China?  Then  comes 
the  bomb.  Why  is  the  Catholic 
Church  in  China  French !  Wake 
up  America !  Tried  to  explain  that 
the  Catholic  Church  is  not  a  national 
one,  etc.  Later  informs  me  that  his 
wife  has  been  educated  at  the 
Sisters'  School. 

Steward  promises  a  real  Chinese 
dinner  on  New  Year's  Night.  With 
chop-sticks,  if  we  prefer.  Will 
enjoy  the  dinner,  but  not  the  chop- 
sticks. However,  practice  makes 
perfect.  The  Chinese  certainly  enjoy 
them. 

Went  to  bed  Thursday  night — 
woke  up  Saturday  morning.  A  day 
is  always  lost  on  the  trip  to  the 
Orient.  What  this  day  will  be  is 
determined  by  the  position  of  the 
ship  at  the  180th  Meridian. 

The  third  mate,  a  K.  of  C.  man, 
and  a  practical  Catholic,  very 
amused.  The  Quatermaster  on  his 
watch  yesterday  was  telling  every- 
body that  to-morrow  (Friday)  is 
his  birthday.  When  told  that  there 
will  be  no  tomorrow,  he  gets 
indignant.  No  birthday  celebration 
this  year. 

V^~ ^AD  two  public  Masses  New 
I  I  Year's  Day.  Some  of  the 
^  "k  crew  could  not  get  to  the 
later  Mass,  so  we  arranged  for  an 
early  one.  A  few  confessions  and 
Communions.  Our  parish  is  grow- 
ing. Father  Timothy  celebrates : 
39 


Father  Flavian  preaches,  wishing  all 
a  happy  and  prosperous  New  Year. 
The  promised  Chinese  Dinner  is 
served  tonight.  The  menu  at  least 
looks  pretty.  Boiled  Maracuda, 
Mandarine  Sub  Gum  Chop  Suey, 
Chicken  Foo  Young  Oriental,  Chinese 
Ginger,  follow  one  another  in  rich 
profusion.  Chop  sticks  will  be  furn- 
ished, if  we  so  wish;  but  we  refrain, 
leaving  or  rather  postponing  our 
initial  efforts  with  these  weapons  to 
some  future  day,  when  the  audience 
is  not  so  large. 

[O  Oriental  is  the  atmosphere 
that  some  of  our  Chinese 
friends  succumb  to  the  temp- 
tation and  appear  in  native  costume. 
Zeukieng  Loo,  for  example,  causes  a 
gasp  from  the  diners  when  he  makes 
his  debut  in  a  long  robe  of  dark  blue 
silk,  with  black  figures  running 
riotously  over  its  dazzling  sheen.  A 
standing  collar  of  black  velvet,  with 
cuffs  to  match,  add  to  the  color 
scheme.  But  this  is  not  all.  From 
beneath  we  catch  the  gleam  of  a 
pair  of  pale  blue  pantaloons,  nicely 
creased.  Blue  velvet  slippers,  with 
hose  of  immaculate  whiteness,  com- 
plete the  costume  which  would  make 
Loo  the  Beau  Brummel  of  any 
Chinese  gathering. 

Four  of  us  lined  up  for  vaccination 
today.  This  is  a  necessary  pre- 
caution for  those  who  intend  to 
spend  any  time  in  the  Far  East. 
The  ship's  surgeon  would  not  hear 
of  any  fee.  He  is  glad  of  the  chance, 
he  declares,  to  pay  back  the  thous- 
and and  one  favors  bestowed  on  him 
by  the  Catholic  Missionaries  in  the 
past. 

The  Far  East  is  fast  becoming 
the  "Near  East."  Yokohama,  our 
first  port  is  now  drawing  near,  and 
very  naturally  we  are  somewhat 
excited.  Birds  are  flying  in  the 
wake  of  the  ship,  a  sure  sign  of 
approaching  land. 

In  our  next  letter  we  shall  recount 
our  experiences  in  Japan.  Yoko- 
hama, Tokyo,  and  Kobe,  should 
prove  interesting.  Sorry  to  say,  a 
visit  to  Nagasaki  where  the  beautiful 
church  commemorates  the  undying 
faith  of  the  Japanese  Catholics 
seems  out  of  the  question.     Adieu! 


Index  to  Worthwhile  Reading 


THE  JESUITS.  1534-1921.  By  Rev.  Thomas 
J.  Campbell,  S.  J.  New  York:  The  Encyclopedia 
Press.    Price  $5.00. 

The  English-reading  public  is  already  in  debt 
to  Father  Campbell  for  his  charming  studies  of  the 
Pioneer  Missionaries  and  Laymen  of  North  America. 
He  considerably  increases  this  debt  by  his  present 
work. 

So  much  has  been  written  about  the  Society 
of  Jesus  that  is  distorted  or  not  warranted  by  facts 
that  Father  Martin,  the  Superior  General,  in  1892 
appointed  a  corps  of  distinguished  writers  to  co- 
operate in  the  production  of  a  universal  history  of 
the  Jesuits  which  was  to  be  based  on  indisputable 
facts  and  in  line  with  the  most  exacting  requirements 
of  scientific  research. 

Unfortunately,  this  contemplated  work  has  not 
been  completed  and  probably  shall  not  be  for  some 
years  to  come.  In  the  meantime  Father  Campbell's 
volume  supplies  a  need  that  has  long  been  felt  by 
students  of  Church  History  generally.  The  volume 
is  enhanced  by  a  large  bibliography  and  a  complete 
index.  It  is  not  burdened  with  foot-notes  which 
might  deter  the  average  reader  from  its  perusal. 

In  its  thirty  chapters  the  author  gives  us  a  story 
that  is  more  interesting  than  fiction.  He  traces  the 
history  of  the  Society  from  its  humble  beginnings, 
through  its  rapid  developments,  its  marvellous 
achievements,  its  suppression,  its  restoration,  to  its 
present-day  vigor  and  multiplied  activities. 

Passionists  will  be  glad  to  see  in  this  authorita- 
tive work  a  refutation  of  the  accusation  made  against 
St.  Paul  of  the  Cross.  This  accusation  is  stated  in 
the  letter  written  by  the  infamous  Bernis  under  date 
of  July  3,  1770:  "I  heard  that  the  Founder  of  the 
Passionists,  Paul  of  the  Cross,  has  warned  the  Pope 
to  watch  over  his  kitchen,  and  hence  Brother 
Francisco  who  looks  after  the  Pope's  household 
has  redoubled  his  vigilance.  I  do  not  know  if  it 
is  on  account  of  this  warning,  but  in  any  case  the 
Pope  has  gone  to  some  mineral  springs  for  treat- 
ment and  is  to  be  there  for  the  next  fortnight." 
Father  Campbell  comments;  "As  this  General  of  the 
Passionists  was  no  other  than  the  saintly  Paul  of  the 
Cross,  who  has  been  since  raised  to  the  honors  of 
the  altar,  one  may  form  some  idea  of  the  infamous 
devices  resorted  to  in  all  this  business.  Far  from 
being  unfriendly,  Paul  of  the  Cross  writes:  'lam 
extremely  pained  by  the  sufferings  of  the  illustrious 
Company  of  Jesus.  The  very  thought  of  all  those 
innocent  religious  being  persecuted,  in  so  many 
ways,  makes  me  weep  and  groan.  The  devil  is 
triumphing;  God's  glory  is  diminished,  and  multi- 
tudes of  souls  are  deprived  of  all  spiritual  help.  I 
pray,  night  and  day  that,  after  the  storm  is  passed 
God  who  gives  both  life  and  death  may  resuscitate 


the  Society  with  greater  glory  than  before.  Such 
have  been  always,  and  such  still  are,  my  feelings 
towards  the  Jesuits.'  " 


VEILS  OF  SAMITE.  By  J.  Corson  Miller. 
Boston:    Small,  Maynard  &  Company. 

This  is  the  first  published  collection  of  poems 
by  J.  Corson  Miller.  Mr.  Miller  needs  no  intro- 
duction to  readers  of  THE  SIGN. 

The  book,  prefaced  by  William  Stanley  Braith- 
waite,  contains  ninety-four  poems,  the  largest  of 
which  is  sixty  lines.  Almost  a  fourth  of  the  poems 
are  dedicatory;  the  remainder  cover  a  variety  of 
topics — Christian,  pagan,  and  unreligious.  These 
topics  are  woven  into  all  the  standard  types  of 
stanza.  There  is  some  rather  'free  verse,'  as  in 
"Winter  Stars."  The  hymn  stanza  is  exemplified 
in  "The  Shepherds  and  the  Child."  There  are,  too, 
a  number  and  variety  of  odes  among  which  we 
may  mention  "The  Day  Laborer"  and  "God's  Tree." 
Blank  verse  is  not  wanting,  for  we  note  "Aspiration" 
and  "Sappho's  Farewell  to  Phaon."  The  ballad 
appears  as  "On  the  Road  to  the  Black  Sudan." 
The  epic  type  is  used  effectively  in  "James  Whit- 
comb  Riley,"  "Fulfillment,"  and  "Life's  Gray 
Shadows."  But  the  predominant  metrical  form  is 
the  sonnet.  Of  the  fifteen  sonnets  embodied  in  the 
book  we  observe  as  particularly  felicitous  "The 
Angelus,"  "A  Night  of  Stars,"  and  "Sunset  at  Sea." 

To  poets  we  recommend  "Veils  of  Samite"  as  a 
volume  that  will  bear  careful  study.  We  are  con- 
fident these  poets  will  be  encourged  in  their  efforts 
by  this  palpable  proof  that  poetic  themes  have  not 
been  exhausted  and  that  intense  thought  is  quite 
compatible  with  technical  finish. 

To  all  lovers  of  highly  imaginative  verse  we 
recommend  "Veils  of  Samite"  as  an  eminently 
readable  book.  True,  readers  will  find  obscure 
allusions;  true  also,  they  may  be  oppressed  by  the 
minor  key  in  which  some  of  the  poems  are  written: 
yet  withal  they  will  detect  throughout  the  book  a 
healthful  optimism,  they  will  discover  on  every 
page  pure  and  exquisite  thoughts  draped  in  rich 
Veils  of  Samite. 

Mr.  Miller  occasionally  touches  upon  subjects 
of  classical  antiquity;  but  he  treats  them  merely 
as  themes  not  as  articles  of  a  neo-pagan  creed. 
Any  misgiving  as  to  the  author's  intentions  is  dis- 
pelled by  this  bit  of  self-revelation  from  "The 
Song  of  Songs": 

There  are  many  who  fashion  the  gracious  moonlight 
To  the  Night's  cool  kiss  on  a  parched  plain ; 

And  many  have  sung  of  the  pine-tree's  whisper 
When   forest-aisles   are  draped  in   rain. 

But  I  shall  sing  of  the  Virgin-Mother, 

Whose  heart  was  crushed  when  her  Son  was  slain. 


40 


™. 3P.52I .™  w>®  m  W  ?.'.' '-'.'-'  '.'7- 


5£  W.^J^J^MWMJSSUSSJSSUS^JS^SRSMSJB, 


N^ry/Z/' 


A  NATIONAL      \J>     CATHOLIC 
^MONTHLY       MACAZINEX 


VOL.  I. 

APRIL,   1922                                                      No.  9 

!5  ^iiJJ  mMlMMMDi 

TOTjjTrK^n.'  nv.  n 

li-JJiMIM 

lUiUJZffi^^I  ^  thj  yi;  ^u^Tr^i^u^^                                                 tik^o;  m;  uv  rrv  n 

In  this  striking  design  Bro- 
ther Anson,  tke  distinguished 
Benedictine  artist,  forcibly  sym- 
bolizes the  basic  thought  of 
Eastertide, — Christ  Risen, — 
the  be  all  and  the  end  all  of 
the  Christian's  faith. 

The     circle    expresses         *£** 
the  eternal  generation  *^C^ 

of  the  Son.  ,J^ 

The  Latin  legend,     •  ■  *gm 
"In   Cruce    Christus  ■  | 
Mortuus  et  Sepultus  « 
Est  Ressurexit  Tertia        •  %^*J 
Die." — Christ  died  on  •      *r 

a  Cross  and  vJas  buried.  *V> 

The    third  day   He  rose  « 

again — epitomizes  the  Re- 
deemer's life. 

The  door    within    the    circle 
depicts  the  portal  of  the   Holy 
Sepulchre-    tradition's    irrefut- 
able proof  of  the  Resurrection 
as  an    historical  fact. 

The  two  candlesticks  with 
their  burning  tapers  denote  the 
Old  and  the  NIevJ  Testrments 
which  both  bear  Witness  to 
Jesus  of  Nazareth  as  the 
promised  Messias. 


The     words     Alpha     and 
Omega   are  the  names  of  the 
first    and    last    letters    of    the 
Greek  alphabet-      Figuratively 
they   appl>>   to  Christ,  "I  am 
the  Alpha  and  Omega,   the 
beginning    and     the     end, 
g         saith  the  Lord  God." 
W^»  The  inscription  "The 

k  l/fm        Alpha   and   Omega    of 
^g    **A      Jerusalem"     signifies 
^m**  \  that  the  Resurrection 
"5^^  •  of  Chirst  is  the  pivo- 
*£9^m  •*     tal  fact   in  the  entire 
*JLgm  history^    of    the    Holy 

'^^»         City;    as  the  same  trans- 
<!,*  cendent     event     is    the 

central     doctrine     of    that 
more   perfect    cit>>   of   which 
the  earthly  Jerusalem  is   but  a 
tj'pe — the  indestructible  Cath- 
olic Church. 

Christ  Jesus,  triumphant  o\>er 
death,  is  the  corner  stone  of 
Christian  faith. 

He  is  all  this  and  more. 
He    is    "the     first     fruits    of 
them  that  sleep,"  the  guarantee 
unto    the    just     of    a     glorious 
resurrection  to  be. 


That  the  Risen  Lord  may  Vouchsafe  to  kindle  anew  the  flame  of  faith   in   the   hearts    of    our 

readers,  and  to  reavJaken  in  them   an   invigorating   hope,    that   so   they    ma})   attain   unto   the 

promise  of  life  eternal,   is   the  earnest   Easter  prayer  of  the   Editors  of  the   Sign. 


wmmwrmmmw^rmwmmwmMW«lff^^ 


Naples'   P 


erennial 

Colman  Ladd 


Wond 


onaer 


^-— -£E  remember  the  claim  of  the  Neapolitans 
ill  that  to  see  their  city  was  the  consummation 
y^X  of  earthly  bliss — "See  Naples  and  die!" 
Accordingly  it  was  with  high  expectations 
we  passed  the  guardian  isles,  Ischia  and  Capri,  and 
entered  the  famous  bay  on  an  afternoon  in  early 
May.  Vesuvius  loomed 
on  our  right  crowned 
with  a  fearful  mass  of 
fume  and  cloud.  Spots 
of  fair  landscape  gradu- 
ally merged  into  the 
compact  city  and  we 
came  to  anchor  with 
scarcely  a  thrill.  There 
was  something  meteor- 
ologically awry.  An 
average  March  setting 
will  spoil  any  landscape ; 
and  thus  it  was  our  luck 
to  approach  Naples  with 
spring  long  overdue, 
with  a  raw  wind  in  our 
faces  and  ragged  clouds 
here  and  there  trailing 
rain  or  occasionally  dis- 
closing scant  patches  of 
Italian  sky.  There  fol- 
lowed a  night  of  sound 
repose.  In  the  meantime 
there  was  a  shifting  of 
scenes — a  splendid 
vision  was  in  the  mak- 
ing. And  when  at  sun- 
rise we  stepped  out  upon  marty 
the  balcony  of  our  lodgings,  there  lay  Bella  Napoli 
utterly  transformed  in  all  the  freshness  of  a  May 
morning,  under  a  clear  mellow  sky,  and  her  grey, 
pink  and  saffron  homes  and  albergos  spread  out 
in  a  far  sweeping  crescent. 


A'KR    Bl'ST   () 


^ 


UT  whatever  of  gripping  natural  beauty  or  of 
historic  association  Naples  had  to  show — all 
this  could  wait.     It  was  important  that  we 


verify  the  item  we  had  chaneed  upon  in  our  guide- 
book; namely,  that  the  miraculo  might  be  seen 
during  the  eight  days  beginning  Saturday  before 
the  first  Sunday  in  May.  Here  we  were  within  the 
blessed  period.  But  was  it  possible  that  our  eyes 
were  to  be  favored  with  the  sight  of  a  miracle? 
We  had  learned  that  the 
famous  relic  of  St. 
Januarius  was  exposed 
annually  on  his  feast 
day,  September  19  and 
during  the  octave,  and 
on  the  feast  of  his 
Patronage,  December  16, 
and  that  only  on  this 
latter  occasion  did  the 
liquefaction  of  his  blood 
ordinarily  fail  to  occur. 
Would  our  presence  con- 
cide  with  such  a  failure  ? 
Our  first  concern  was 
how  to  witness  this  won- 
der at  best  advantage — 
how  to  circumvent  the 
surging  crowds  —  for 
surely  one  must  be  close 
at  hand  to  obtain  a  satis- 
fying view  of  the  mar- 
vellous process.  On  the 
first  day,  therefore,  we 
made  only  an  explor- 
atory pilgrimage  to  the 
great  church  of  Santa 
Chiara.  The  liquefac- 
tion had  already  occured. 
There  was  a  hum  of  prayer  and  praise  among  the 
throng  as  the  relic  was  passed  along  for  veneration. 
On  this  occasion  we  ascertained  that  a  close 
sight  of  the  miracle  could  be  obtained  without 
penetrating  the  throng  and  striving  for  a  favorable 
position.  The  illustration  of  St.  Januarius'  chapel 
as  here  shown,  is  a  view  taken  from  a  side  portal 
in  the  main  basilica.  For  a  favorable  view  of  the 
miracle  one  does  not  enter  here,  but  directly  from 


THE  1*  SIGN 


the  street  at  the  right  of  the  main  entrance  through 
a  small  door  leading  to  a  sacristy.  Neither  ticket 
nor  favor  is  required.  And  this  for  the 
greatest  spectacle  of  its  kind  in  the 
modern  world! 

ONE  should,  of  course,  previously 
inform  oneself  of  the  origin  of 
this  wonder.  The  Roman  brevi- 
ary provides  this  information  concisely. 
St.  Januarius,  bishop  of  Beneventum, 
during  the  persecution  of  Diocletian  and 
Maximinian,  early  in  the  fourth  century 
was  summoned  before  Timothy,  Gover- 
nor of  Campania,  charged  with  pro- 
fessing the  Christian  faith.  His  trial 
took  place  at  Nola,  where,  having  con- 
stantly persevered  through  various 
forms  of  torture,  he  was  cast  into  a 
fiery  furnace,  but  without  harm  even  to 
his  very  garments.  The  Governor 
enraged  thereat,  commanded  that  he 
be  racked  even  to  the  dislocation  of 
his  limbs.  Thence  with  his  deacon  and 
lector  he  was  dragged  before  the  chariot  of  the 
Governor  to  Pozzuoli.  Here  he  was  cast  into  a 
prison  where  there  were  others  who  had  been 
sentenced  to  be  thrown  to  the  wild  beasts.  On 
the  following  day  this  sentence  was  carried  out 
but  the  beasts  only  cast  themselves  meekly  at 
the  feet  of  Januarius. 
Attributing  all  this  to 
magic  powers,  Timothy 
ordered  the  beheadal 
of  them  all  and  forth- 
with was  stricken  blind. 
Through  the  prayer  of 
the  blessed  Januarius 
he  received  back  his 
sight,  and  at  this  mar- 
vel nearly  five  thous- 
and embraced  the  faith. 
Nevertheless  the  un- 
grateful Governor, 
rendered  furious  at  the 
conversion  of  such  a 
multitude,  and  fearful 
concerning  the  imperial 
decrees,  renewed  the  order  for  the  beheading  of 
the  holy  bishop  and  his  companions  which  this  time 
was  executed.     Following  a  divine  admonition,  the 


remains  of  St.  Januarius,  after  resting  for  a  time  at 
Beneventum  and  Monte  Vergine,  were  finally 
brought  to  Naples  and  laid  in  the  major 
church  there,  where  they  have  been 
rendered  glorious  by  many  miracles. 
Of  these,  most  wonderful  is  that,  where- 
by his  blood,  ordinarily  congealed  in 
a  glass  vial  or  flask,  when  brought  close 
to  the  martyr's  head,  in  a  marvellous 
manner,  liquefies  and  bubbles  as  if  it 
had  been  but  freshly  shed. 


w 


RELIQUARY  CONTAINING 
THE  MARTYR'S   BLOOD 


E  returned  to  Santa  Chiara  the 
following  morning  about  nine. 
In  the  ample  sacristy  the  clergy 
had  just  begun  to  display  the  treasures, 
mostly  in  the  form  of  episcopal  vesture 
and  regalia.  There  were  many  jewels 
and  a  wealth  of  gold  brilliantly  set  in 
empurpled  trays.  One  mitre  alone  con- 
tains 3325  diamonds,  168  rubies  and  188 
emeralds.  The  most  precious  of  all  the 
treasures  however  is  the  reliquary  which 
contains  the  blood  of  the  Saint.  This 
reliquary  may  be  best  described,  for  the  information 
of  our  readers,  in  the  words  of  the  Catholic  Encyclo- 
pedia : — "In  a  silver  reliquary,  which  in  form  and 
size  somewhat  suggests  a  small  carriage  lamp,  two 
phials  are  enclosed.  The  lesser  of  these  contains 
only  traces  of  blood.  The  larger,  which  is  a  little 
flagon  -  shaped  flask 
four  inches  in  height 
and  about  two  and  a 
quarter  inches  in  diam- 
eter, is  normally  more 
than  half  full  of  a  dark 
and  solid  mass,  abso- 
lutely opaque  when 
held  up  to  the  light, 
and  showing  no  dis- 
placement, when  the 
reliquary  is  turned  up- 
side down.  Both  flasks 
seem  to  be  so  fixed  in 
the  lantern  cavity  of 
the  reliquary  by  means 
•     rANTJARms  °^    some   nai"d   gummy 

substance  that  they  are 
hermetically  sealed.  Moreover,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  the  dark  mass  in  the  flask  is  protected  by  two 
thicknesses    of    glass    it    is    presumably    but    little 


THE  f  SIGN 


affected  by  the  temperature  of  the  surrounding  air." 

OHE  vested  clergy  now  carry  the  mitre,  cope 
and  pectoral  cross  with  the  reliquary  con- 
taining the  blood  of  the  martyr  which  has 
congealed  after  yesterday's  vesper  service,  to  the 
altar.  The  silver  bust  of  the  martyr  containing  his 
head  is  set  on  the  platform  before  the  altar  at 
the  gospel  side.  The  bust  is  enrobed  with  the 
episcopal  regalia.  Immediately,  a  monsignor  takes 
the  reliquary  and,  facing  the  people,  with  a  clerical 
attendant  on  his  right  and  a  civil  official,  repre- 
sentative of  the  municipality  on  his  left,  begins  tha 
invocations.  Those  who  have  followed  from  the 
sacristy  are  now  grouped  around  the  altar, — our- 
selves kneeling  on  the  highest  step,  within  arm's 
reach  and  with  a  distinct  view  of  the  blessed  vial. 
Clergy  and  people  alternate  in  the  invocations.  The 
latter  are  quite  rhythmic  being  intoned  by  the  mem- 
bers of  a  confraternity  familiarly  known  as  the 
Aunts  of  St.  Januarius. 

At  short  intervales  the  vial  is  inverted  and 
examined  for  signs  of  softening.  At  times  is  is 
brought  as  close  to  our  eyes  as  this  printed  page. 
Onl  ya  dark  immovable  shellac-like  substance  ap- 
pears. Sometimes  the  liquefaction  takes  place  almost 
immediately,  sometimes  there  is  a  delay  of  an  hour. 
On  this  occasion  twenty-five  minutes  have  elapsed 
when  the  monsignor  pauses  in  anxious  scrutiny. 
Slowly  his  austere  features  are  transformed  into  a 
gentle  smile ;  he  extends  the  reliquary  to  the  lay  at- 
tendant to  behold;  the  latter  nods  affirmatively  and 
announces :  "II  miraculo  e  f atto,"  "the  miracle  has 
happened,"  and  with  a  wave  of  a  handkerchief 
signals  to  the  organist. 

^tt^HILE  the  tumultuous  strains  of  the  Te  Deum 
\I/  were  intoned  the  reliquary  was  presented  to 
us  for  our  veneration.  There  was  no  hurry 
— it  was  held  there  for  our  liesurely  admiration  as 
though  there  were  not  hundreds  awaiting — and  there 
we  beheld  the  limpid,  ruddy  contents  responsive  to 
every  movement — even  the  inversion — of  the  vial. 
Fervently  then  did  we  join  in  that  solemn  hymn 

rUCH  a  perennial  marvel  could  not  have 
escaped  the  attention  of  a  critical  scientific 
world.  Accordingly  the  pilgrim  to  the  shrine 
of  St.  Januarius  should  know  that  the  phenomenon 
has  been  examined  under  every  conceivable  natural 
aspect  and  still  remains  a  mystery  to  the  scientist. 
There  is  the  general  hypothesis  that  the  vial  contains 
some    other    substance    sensitive    to    fusion.     Such 


fusion  would,  of  course  take  place  at  a  uniform 
temperature.  But  the  authentic  records  show  the 
liquefaction  occurring  over  the  wide  range  of  six 
degrees  centigrade.  There  is  much  variation  both  in 
the  quantity  of  the  transformed  blood  and  in  the 
manner  of  the  liquefaction.  At  times  the  vial  is 
quite  filled  with  blood:  on  some  occasions  there  is 
a  very  gradual  softening  or  melting,  again  it  is 
accompanied  by  violent  bubbling.  All  this  has 
naturally  suggested  the  application  of  the  two  most 
infallible  scientific  tests:  the  scales  and  the  spec- 
troscope. The  scales  showed  a  corresponding 
variation  in  weight  and  the  spectroscope  indicated 
the  presence  of  blood.  Professor  Sperindeo  gives 
the  calculations  in  these  experiments  carried  out  in 
twelve  decimal  figures. 

Our  space  does  not  allow  us  to  quote  the  favor- 
able testimony  regarding  the  miracle,  of  men  of 
every  phase  of  belief.  Even  Voltaire  was  so  im-. 
pressed  by  it  as  to  take  up  its  defense  against 
Addison  and  other  Protestant  writers.  Dumas 
observed :  "Is  this  a  secret  preserved  by  the  canons 
of  the  Treasury  from  generation  to  generation  from 
the  fourth  century  to  our  time?  Such  a  tradition 
would  be  more  miraculous  than  the  miracle  itself." 

iy^E  cite  Professor  Sperindeo's  conclusions : 
\\y  A.     "The  hypotheses  advanced  at  dif- 

ferent epochs  and  based  upon  diverse  princi- 
ples are  inadmissable,  because  under  the  same  con- 
ditions the  blood  of  St.  Januarius  and  the  substances 
proposed  show  altogether  different  characteristics, 
miracle  of  St.  Januarius  are  altogether  peculiar. 

C.  The  spectroscope,  an  instrument  infallible 
in  its  delicate  research,  has  demonstrated  on 
evidence  that  the  substance  presented  in  this  case, 
is  actual  blood :  and  that  this  spectrum  is  not  to  be 
confounded  with  that  of  the  pirocarminio  no  matter 
how  closely  it  may  resemble  it. 

D.  Wherefore,  since  congealed  blood  can  never 
be  liquified  we  are  forced  to  admit  that  there  is  here 
something  not  natural. 

Moreover  we  do  not  wish  to  be  blind  or  to 
pose  as  blind.  Neither  do  we  care  to  give  an 
inconclusive  negation  to  the  facts  in  evidence,  as 
others,  have  dared  to  do  who  were  urged  by  other 
motives.  It  is  for  the  scientist  to  verify  the  truth, 
for  the  ignorant  and  perverse  to  deny  it. 

Therefore  we  repeat,  and  with  greater  emphasis, 
that  the  miracle  of  St.  Januarius,  regardless  of  all 
other  evidence,  must  be  believed  on  scientific 
grounds  alone." 


The   Labor   Probl 


em 


Rev.  R.  A.  McGowan 


Why    Working   People  Join    Unions 


^-— -^ORKING  people  join  labor  unions  because, 
ill  usually,  that  is  the  only  way  they  can 
\|/  make  a  decent  living  for  themselves  and 
their  families.  Each  one  by  himself  is 
too  weak  to  do  much.  United,  they  can  pick  a  good 
spokesman  from  their  number  who  knows  what 
they  need.  They  can  pay  him  a  salary  so  that  he 
will  not  be  dependent  on  the  employers  for  a  job. 
They  can  refuse,  as  a  body  to  work  for  an  employer 
who  will  not  treat  them  right,  thus  they  can  some- 
times force  him  to  terms. 

Most  people  at  work  in  the  city  industry  and 
trade  do  not  own  anything  to  work  with.  They  have 
to  depend  on  getting  a  job  from  others.  There 
are  usually  more  people  hunting  for  jobs  than  there 
are  jobs.  If  working  people  don't  unite,  then  they 
battle  with  each  other  for  work  and  down  go  wages 
and  up  go  hours. 

Finn  McCool,  Ludwig  Lang,  Peppo  Peppini, 
and  John  Smith  are  longshoremen.  All  want  jobs. 
When  Finn  goes  alone  to  get  a  job  as  a  longshore- 
man, he  is  so  anxious  to  get  it  that  he  takes  what 
wages  the  employer  offers,  if  he  can  live  on  it,  in 
the  fear  that  he  won't  get  any  job  at  all.  Peppo 
Peppini,  Ludwig  Lang  and  John  Smith  meet  the 
same  fate. 

But  they  get  together  and  tell  the  man  who  is 
hiring  longshoremen  that  they  will  not  work  for  less 
than  such  and  such  amount — enough  at  least  to  give 
them  and  their  families  a  decent  home  to  live  in, 
decent  food  to  eat,  decent  clothes  to  wear,  decent 
schooling  for  their  children,  decent  recreation,  a  bit 
for  the  church  and  lodge,  and  something  to  lay  aside 
for  the  day  of  sickness  and  the  day  when  they  can 
no  longer  work.  If  the  employer  needs  their  work, 
he  has  to  give  in,  and  they  get  what  they  are 
entitled  to. 

There  is  nothing  deep  or  secret  about  labor 
unions.  Sometimes  they  do  wrong.  But  no  one 
under  Heaven,  who  has  reached  the  age  of  reason, 
does  right  all  the  time.  When  they  do  wrong,  they 
are  to  be  condemned  for  it.  But  the  first  point  is 
that  working  people  need  labor  unions,  and  have  the 
right  to  establish  and  join  labor  unions. 


^^^HE  Bishops  of  the  United  States  sent  the 
V/  J  Catholics  of  this  country  a  Pastoral  Letter 
two  years  ago.  Listen  to  what  the  Pastoral 
Letter  says:  The  working  people  have  "the  right 
to  form  and  maintain  the  kind  of  organization  that 
is  necessary,  and  that  will  be  most  effectual  in 
securing  their  welfare." 

Why  should  the  Bishops  go  out  of  the  way 
to  talk  about  labor  unions? 

They  have  not  gone  out  of  the  way.  They 
were  talking  about  matters  of  morality.  When  one 
man  works  for  another,  a  question  of  morality  enters 
at  once.  The  man  who  works  for  another  takes 
upon  himself  certain  obligations.  These  obligations 
are  binding  in  morals  and  religion.  His  conscience 
has  something  to  say  about  it.  So  too,  the  employer 
has  his  obligations.  One  man  is  thrown  into  a  very 
important  relation  with  another.  Duties  of  justice 
and  charity  instantly  come  to  life. 

When  an  employee  fails  in  his  obligations,  the 
employer  discharges  him,  and  picks  another  without 
much  trouble,  from  the  thousands  or  hundreds  of 
thousands  or  millions  who  are  out  of  work.  When 
an  employer  fails  in  his  obligations  the  employee 
can  discharge  the  employer  and  join  the  army  of 
job  hunters.  He  can  also  excuse  the  employer.  But 
if  all  the  employees  join  together,  they  can  do  some- 
thing to  make  the  employer  live  up  to  his  obligations. 


e 


'XPERIENCE  shows  that  those  who  own  the 
means  of  work  and  livelihood  do  not  as  a  rule 
live  up  to  their  obligations.  No  one  knows 
for  certain  (since  wages  and  cost  of  living  are  chang- 
ing so  much),  but  it  is  very  probable,  that  half  of  the 
men  at  work  for  wages  are  not  receiving  even  now 
enough  to  support  a  family  in  decent  comfort. 
From  four  to  six  million  are  unable  to  get  work; 
even  in  normal  times  well  over  a  million  are  out  of 
work. 

But  this  is  all  a  matter  of  money  and  why  be 
disturbed  about  it?  Are  we  to  make  money  our 
God?  Is  it  not  better  to  be  content  with  what  we 
have  and  try  to  get  no  more? 

It  is  indeed  a  matter  of  money.    But  it  is  more 


THE  +  SIGN 


than  that.  For  it  is  a  question  of  what  money  will 
buy.  It  means  plenty  of  good  food  for  the  husband, 
the  wife  and  mother,  and  the  growing  children.  It 
means  healthy  children  brought  into  the  world — 
thriving  children — children  growing  strong.  It 
means  more  schooling  for  the  children.  It  means  a 
comfortable  home.  It  means  fewer  children  on  the 
street.  It  means  better  schools  and  churches  and 
parish  halls. 

It  is  not  a  question  of  so  many  cents  an  hour, 
so  many  dollars  a  week.  It  is  a  question  of  how 
human  beings  are  to  possess  material  goods  enough 
to  lead  normal  lives,  and  do  well  by  God  and  their 
fellow-men. 

HABOR  unions  are  an  antidote  to  the  poison 
that  lies  in  the  motto  and  rule  of  life :  "Every 
man  for  himself  and  let  the  devil  take  the 
hindmost."    That  is  a  pagan  rule  of  life,  fit  for  no 


one  but  beasts.  It  is  a  rule  of  the  fang  and  the 
claw.  Labor  unions  are  an  attempt  to  form  a 
brotherhood  in  which  each  will  protect  the  other 
and  stave  off  the  devil  of  grinding  want  from  the 
hindmost. 

The  pity  is  that  labor  unions  are  not  able  to 
protect  all  employees.  The  pity  is  that  they  are 
unsuccessful  in  their  aim.  They  have  not  thrown 
off  the  dependency  of  those  who  do  not  share  in 
ownership  and  control  of  the  things  to  work  with 
and  live  by.  They  have  not  ridden  the  propertyless 
of  the  fear  and  the  bitter  experience  of  being  with- 
out work.  They  have  not  raised  the  wages  of  all 
who  work  to  a  standard  of  decent  living. 

But  they  have  done  something.  Therefore, 
working  people  join  labor  unions  and.therefore,  they 
establish  unions  when  there  are  none  for  them  to 
join. 


Good  Friday  In  April 

Vaughn  Devlin 

' ' Why  weepest  thou,  fair  month?  why'  weepest  thou? 

Are  not  the  treasures  of  the  Springtime  thine? 
Tke  lov'e  notes  of  the  birds'  first  songs,  the  buds, 

And  all  that  makes  the  world  look  ^oung  and  fair? 
Why  do  the  tears  course  down  thy  cheeks  and  rest 

Like  Sacramental  dew  upon  the  floors? 
Hast  thou  some  secret  sorrow  all  thine  own 

That  tears  so  oft'  eclipse  thy  brightest  smiles?" 


"I  weep  because  while  still  my  days  tfere  young, 

Love  hung  upon  the  Cross  to  die  for  sin. 
Perchance  my*  tears  may  help  remote  the  guilt 

That  hangs,  a  gloomy  cloud  o'er  all  the  earth. 
I  saw  Him  die  on  calvary's  dark  mount — 

The  mem'ry  haunts  me  in  my  gayest  moods. 
My"  robes  are  sprinkled  vJith  His  blood  and  Tears— 

I  \Ceep  because  God's  only  Son  is  dead. 


Saints   and   Sinners 

Luis  Coloma,  S.  J. 

Copyrighted   1921,  by  The  Sign 


SYNOPSIS  OF   PREVIOUS   INSTALMENTS: 

Scene  in  a  Catholic  College  outside  Madrid  on  the  day  of  the  closing-exercises  of  tlie  year.  Luis,  having 
read  the  valedictory  poem  and  gathered  up  '•is  prizes  looks  in  vain  for  his  mother's  face  among  the  crowd*  of 
parents  and  friends  of  the  other  students.  Some  sympathetic  women  draw  away  in  horror  when  they  learn 
that  he  is  the  son  of  the  Countess  of  Albornoz.  A  groom  arrives  late  with  a  coach  to  take  the  young  student 
to  his  home.  Another  scene  in  the  drawing  room  of  the  Duchess  of  Bara  showing  the  leaders  of  Madrid  society 
in  the  midst  of  their  intrigues  for  the  return  of  the  ex-Queen  Isabel  and  her  family  who  are  now  in  exile  in 
Paris,  and  the  exp.ulsion  of  King  Amadeo,  the  Savoyard  prince  who  has  been  occupying  the  Spanish  throne 
in  the  interim.  They  have  discovered  that  one  of  the  old  Spanish  grandees  has  permitted  her  name  to  be  sug- 
gested to  the  Italian  Queen  as  rst  lady-in-waiting.  This  is  the  result  of  the  intriguing  of  Curra  the  Countess 
of  Albornoz  who  fancies  that  the  ex-Queen  in  Paris  has  insulted  her  and  desires  revenge,  and  also  to  obtain  the 
position  of  secretary  to  the  present  monarch  for  her  young  friend  John  Velarde.  In  the  face  of  the  indignation 
aroused  Curra  attempts  to  deny  her  part  in  the  intrigue.  She  has  no  time  to  give  to  her  little  son  Luis  and 
passes  him  on  to  her  servants. 

The  Government  in  anger  at  the  Countess'  treachery  demands  that  she  fulfil  her  agreement  to  accept  the 
position  at  court.  She  tricks  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  and  destroys  the  letter  that  compromises  her,  where- 
upon the  police  are  sent  to  break  forcibly  into  her  house  and  carry  off  all  her  papers  under  the  charge  that  she 
has  been  conspiring  to  overthrow  the  Government.  Her  friends  and  partisans  hurry  to  her  house  and  the 
outrage  ends  in  a  sort  of  picnic  party. 

But  among  the  letters  carried  off  by  the  police  there  was  a  certain  package  from  an  old  lover  of  the  Countess, 
and  as  it  was  necessary  for  the  police  to  return  these  papers,  the  scheme  was  hit  upon  of  returning  these 
letters  to  her  husband  with  a  note  calling  his  attention  to  their  very  compromising  contents.  Curra  having 
forgotten  to  destroy  the  letters  when  the  evening  before  she  had  prepared  for  the  raid  upon  her  house  now  felt 
that  some  satisfaction  was  due  to  her  standing,  particularly  as  the  Amadist  newspapers  had  printed  articles 
reflecting  on  her  respectability  and  the  courage  of  her  husband.  She  chooses  her  friend  John  Velarde  to 
challenge  the  editor  of  an  insulting  reference,  assuring  him  that  it  will  be  a  mere  formality  of  shots  in  the  air, 
and  arranging  a  breakfast  for  him  immediately  after  the  meeting.  John  Velarde,  a  type  of  the  well-educated 
but  erring  young  Spaniard,  is  shot  dead  at  the  first  fire. 


Chapter    I  1 

^^fc^HE  news  of  Velarde's  death  reached  Madrid 
£  C~\  almost  at  once,  and  Isabel  Mazacan  im- 
^_  J  mediately  went  to  Curra's  house,  as  the 
^^^  first  bearer  of  the  sad  news.  Curra 
changed  color  perceptibly,  and  for  a  moment  her 
entire  world  seemed  to  fall  about  her. 

"This  made  a  terrible  impression  in  Madrid," 
said  the  Countess  of  Mazacan.  "Everyone  is  talking 
about  his  poor  mother:  he  was  her  only  support." 

Curra  saw  the  reproach  in  these  remarks. 
Without  thinking,  and  allowing  her  own  remorse 
to  change  to  bitter  anger  against  everyone  else,  as 
selfish  people  will,  she  forgot  both  her  sense  of 
delicacy    and    her    meekness,    and    turned    on    the 


"Naturally  it  has,  especially  when  it  is  pro- 
voked by " 

"By  what?" 

"Envy,  my  dear,  envy." 

"Whose  envy?" 

"Yours,  for  example." 

The  Countess  of  Mazacan  turned  like  another 
cat,  as  the  sarcasm  struck  home. 

"Mine?"  she  cried.  "I  envious  of  you!  Of 
the  Villamelon!     Vil-la-mel-o-na!" 

And  she  laughed  hearitly  with  feminine  spite 
long  treasured  in  her  heart,  while  she  emphasized 
the  syllables  of  "Vil-la-mel-o-na-,"  strange  to  say 
the  worst   insult  which  could  have   been   flung   at 


Countess   of   Mazacan  with  the   ferocity  of   a   cat      Curra 


whose  tail  has  been  stepped  on.    In  her  impetuosity 
she  foolishly  attempted  to  justify  herself. 

"What  has  this  to  do  with  me?  Did  I  ask  him 
to  fight?  The  character  of  Don  Quixote,  my  dear, 
has  its  weak  side." 

"And  so  has  that  of  Dulcinea,"  answered  the 
Countess  of  Mazacan,  beginning  to  lose  her  temper,      petrified  statue  of  anger. 

7 


The  two  fought  like  street  venders  after  that, 
hurling  truth  and  calumnies  at  each  other,  with  all 
the  ferocity  of  two  viragoes  of  the  lower  world, 
eager  to  tear  each  other's  hair  out.  The  Countess 
of  Mazacan  shrieked  at  the  top  of  her  exquisite 
soprano  voice.  Curra,  erect  in  her  chair,  spat  her 
nsults  like  a  viper,  without  moving  a  muscle,  a  small 


THE  +  SIGN 


XN  the  midst  of  the  quarrel,  Isabel  Mazacan 
spoke  of  the  letters  of  the  captain  of  artillery, 
and  her  remark  recalled  something  to  Curra 
which  seemed  to  frighten  her.  She  rushed  out  of 
the  room,  and  rang  for  her  maid,  Kate.  John 
Velarde  must  have  kept  some  of  her  letters,  and 
she  must  secure  them  before  anyone  else  laid  hands 
on  them.  She  could  not  have  another  catastrophe, 
like  the  one  just  past.  Kate  quickly  disappeared 
in  a  cab,  and  an  hour  later  handed  her  mistress  all 
the  letters,  and  among  them,  by  error,  the  lottery- 
ticket  which  Velarde  had  bought  the  night  before. 
A  mockery  of  fate!  The  ticket  had  gained  a  prize 
of  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  which  the  Countess  of 
Albarnoz  collected,  after  having  carefully  laid  her 
plans. 

All  of  Madrid  again  began  to  file  through 
Curra's  house  to  offer  sympathy.  "She  was  past 
suffering;  but  she  had  felt  terribly  the  loss  of  the 
unfortunate  boy,  who  had  been  so  deeply  attached 
to  Villamelon  and  herself.  Of  course,  she  had 
known  nothing  about  it.  The  poor  lad  had  said 
absolutely  nothing  either  to  Ferdinand  or  herself. 
Of  course,  it  was  one  of  those  deeds  which  cause 
comment,  and  which  seemed  indecorous,  resulting 
in  serious  embarrassment  to  those  left  behind." 

And  at  this  point  Curra  would  lower  her  voice 
and  confide  to  her  friends:  "You  know,  these  poor 
people  haven't  a  cent,  apparently ;  the  mother  seems 
to  be  in  abject  want.  I  do  not  know  her,  and  of 
course  the  matter  is  a  delicate  one.  But  Ferdinand 
and  I  have  deposited  fifteen  thousand  dollars  in  the 
Bank  of  Madrid,  that  the  poor  woman  may  have 
an   income." 

This  is  true.  Curra  had  deposited  the  fifteen 
thousand  dollars  of  lottery  money  won  by  Velarde 
in  the  Bank  of  Madrid,  and  had  then  written  a 
letter  to  Velarde's  mother  consoling  her  on  her  son's 
death.  She  added  in  a  postscript  that  she  and  her 
husband  had  learned  of  the  mother's  condition,  and 
as  they  both  wanted  to  show  their  affection  for 
the  memory  of  her  son,  they  offered  her  the  income 
and  capital,  the  necessary  papers  concerning  which 
she  enclosed.  Having  written  this,  Curra  shrugged 
her  shoulders  and  was  as  unconcerned  as  before. 

XN  the  meantime  no  one  had  even  thought  of 
preparing  the  mother  for  the  terrible  news, 
and  she  was  happy  with  John's  letter,  and 
with  her  preparations  for  his  home-coming.  She 
was  busy  in  his  room,  so  that  the  beloved  guest 
would  find  everything  prepared  for  him  on  his 
arrival,  when  the  visit  of  the  parish  priest  was  an- 
nounced. She  came  downstairs,  surprised;  it  was 
not  his  hour  of  calling.  The  priest  had  read  the 
terrible  news  in  the  journals,  and  had  hurried  to  the 
mother's  house  to  prepare  her  by  degrees  for  the 
catastrophe,  before  any  unthinking  person  would 
blurt  the  news  out  to  her. 

Hardly  knowing  what  he  said,  he  talked  about 
this  and  that,  and  finally,  with  infinite  evasions  and 


precautions,  told  her  that  her  son  was  seriously  ill 
in  Madrid.  The  unfortunate  woman  sprang  from 
her  chair  terrified,  pale,  and  then  irritated,  as  if 
they  were  trying  to  play  some  horrible  joke  on  her. 

"Impossible!"  she  cried.  "I  received  a  letter 
written  to  me  only  yesterday." 

And  she  spread  the  letter  for  the  priest's 
perusal,  trembling  like  a  leaf  and  with  cold  chills 
running  through  her  body. 

"You  see!"  she  cried.  "He  is  coming  for  the 
month  of  August,  and  will  remain  until  the  feast  of 
Our  Lady  of  Regla.  On  the  third  he  is  going  to 
confession.    He  cannot  die,  my  darling  boy!" 

^^^HE  three  other  children  and  the  two  servants 
t)  had  meanwhile  come  running  in,  hearing  the 
^^  cries  of  their  mother  and  fearing  evil  news. 
The  priest  took  the  letter  and  saw  from  the  date 
that  the  unfortunate  boy  must  have  written  it  but  a 
few  hours  before  he  died. 

"My  news  is  later  than  this,  unfortunately,"  he 
said.  "He — er —  wrote  this,  manifestly;  he  was 
then  stricken  with  an  apoplectic  stroke.  He  is  very 
ill  indeed." 

"My  God!  Blessed  Virgin  of  Regla!"  cried  the 
mother;  and  grasping  the  priest  eagerly  by  the  arm, 
she  asked  with  white  lips:  "And  has  he  been  to 
confession?  Has  he  confessed?"  The  priest  could 
not  answer,  and  she  shook  him  again  by  the  arm, 
repeating  her  question. 

"His  soul,  father,  his  soul  above  everything 
else !"  she  cried.  He  could  but  tell  her  that  of  this 
he  knew  nothing.  Then  she  repressed  her  grief 
and  gave  emphatic  orders  that  they  would  start  for 
Madrid  that  day,  that  very  minute.  The  mail  coach 
would  pass  at  four  o'clock,  and  in  two  hours  they 
could  be  at  the  nearest  station.  Henry  could 
accompany  her.  Peter,  at  a  gesture  of  his  mother, 
rushed  off  to  a  cabstand  to  order  a  cab ;  the  servants 
hurried  off  to  get  the  trunks  ready;  while  Louis, 
the  baby,  commenced  to  cry.  His  mother  kissed 
his  forehead:  "Don't  cry,"  she  murmured. 

(HE  herself  did  not  shed  a  tear.     The  priest 
tried  to  detain  her. 
"But  you  may  not  be  able  to  catch  the  train." 

"They  can  put  on  a  special." 

"That  will  cost  a  fortune." 

"I  have  ten  thousand  reals.  If  that  isn't 
sufficent  we  can  sell  something,  we  can  beg." 

"But,  dear  lady,  wait!" 

"But  his  soul,  father,  his  soul!"  she  cried.  "Do 
you  think  that  death  will  wait?  And  he  is  there 
alone,  without  his  mother  to  help  him  to  die  well, 
unshriven;  and  if  he  dies,  there  is  no  one  to  place 
him  in  his  grave." 

Little  Peter  came  running  in  much  excited. 
He  had  not  gone  to  the  cabstand.  On  the  way 
thither  Martin  Romero  had  told  him  that  he  had 
received  news  that  John  was  better,  that  he  was 
nearly  well. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


"You  see?"  cried  the  triumphant  mother.  She 
burst  out  laughing,  choking  her  mirth  with  deep 
sobs.  The  priest  denied  this  news,  the  result  of  a 
stupid  sympathy,  and  then  was  forced  to  tell  her 
that  her  son  was  really  dead.  There  he  stopped : 
he  did  not  dare  tell  her  how  or  when.  She  received 
the  news  staggering,  and  sank  into  a  chair,  shaking 
her  head,  her  lips  working  nervously,  without 
voice,  without  breath,  her  hands  pressed  to  her 
heart,  as  though  something  had  died  within  her, 
something  as  cold  and  horrible  as  death  itself.  The 
priest  cried  like  a  child  and  sought  to  console  her, 
but  she  listened  to  him  with  glazed  eyes,  without 
understanding.  Her  children  threw  themselves 
into  her  arms;and  as  she  touched  these  three  heads 
a  sob  broke  from  her,  and  her  sorrow  at  last  found 
some  relief  and  comfort  in  tears. 


a 


'VERYONE  in  the  town  respected  her  grief, 
and  no  one  dared  tell  her  the  details  of  her 
son's  death.  But  three  days  later  Curra's 
letter  came,  and  therein  the  poor  woman  found  them. 
The  instinct  of  a  mother  told  her  what  laid  between 
the  lines,  and  red  with  anger,  she  tore  the  bank 
check  to  pieces,  putting  them  in  an  envelope  to- 
gether with  the  letter  which  Curra  had  written,  and 
returned  them  without  a  word  of  reply. 

The  latter  was  amazed  at  this  surprising  re- 
sponse, and  again  shrugged  her  shoulders  :  "She  must 
be  an  odd  old  thing.  Just  imagine  that,  after  so 
much  delicacy!" 

Curra  was  rather  quiet  for  a  short  time  after  that, 
as  she  did  not  quite  know  what  she  could  do  with  the 
fifteen  thousand  dollars.  She  was  scrupulous  at 
using  this  blood-money  herself,  and  decided  to  use 
it  for  some  charity.  She  decided  that  she  would 
give  a  large  ball  with  the  money  for  the  benefit 
of  the  Foundling  Hospital;  but  for  that  the  season 
was  already  too  far  advanced,  and  she  intended 
besides  to  start  on  her  trip  to  Belgium  the  end  of 
the  week.  She  then  had  a  happy  inspiration :  she 
would  give  this  money  to  Pius  IX.  when  she  visited 
Rome  at  the  commencement  of  the  autumn.  She 
was  captivated  with  this  idea,  which  both  quieted 
her  scruples  and  satisfied  her  vanity,  imagining  that 
she  saw  the  praises  of  the  newspapers  for  the 
munificence  of  her  gift. 

That  evening  about  nine  o'clock  a  friend,  Maria 
Valdivieso,  arrived  in  a  great  hurry  to  see  Curra. 
Curra  must  accompany  her  to  Prince  Alfonso's 
circus!  A  beautiful  American  singer  was  to  make 
her  debut  there.  And  this  affair  would  be  a  great 
success!     Curra  must  get  ready  at  once. 

"No,  no,"  said  Curra,  "I  do  not  feel  like  going 
to  the  opera." 

"But  you  must  not  bury  yourself  alive.  You 
haven't  been  outside  the  house  for  three  days." 

"Well,  you  see,  I  am  in  mourning." 

"But  you  have  worn  mourning  already  for  five 
days.     I  would  not  have  put  it  on  five  minutes  for 


that  Velarde!  He  was  very  foolish,  child,  very 
foolish." 

"All  right;  to-night  I'll  wear  half-morning.  I 
have  a  new  gown  which  will  be  perfect — black  and 
white.  It's  lovely,  and  wouldn't  do  for  anything 
else." 

"Wear  it  now,  then,  and  hurry  up.  It's  very 
late.  "And  she  herself  rang  the  bell  and  gave  the 
necessary  orders. 

Curra  dressed  quickly,  while  Maria  Valdivieso 
talked  to  her:  "Did  you  ever  hear  anything  from 
John  Velarde's  mother?" 

"I  had  a  letter  only  to-day.  She  must  be  a 
queer  person." 

Kate  here  interrupted  the  two  cousins  to  ask 
Curra  whether  she  would  wear  black  or  white  gloves. 

"Which  do  you  think,  Maria?" 

"I  think  that  black  would  look  better." 

"Bring  a  pair  of  each  and  we'll  see." 

"Yes,  she  must  be  a  queer  old  soul.  She 
refused  to  accept  the  money." 

"But,  my  dear,  what  foolishness!" 

"She  wrote  me  a  letter  saying  that  she  needs 
nothing  and  has  a  sufficiency  of  everything." 

"All  the  better  then;  that  will  suit  you  per- 
fectly." 

"Yes,  but  you  don't  quite  understand.  I  had 
already  made  the  sacrifice  for  poor  John,  and  just 
because  his  mother  refuses  the  money,  I  am  not 
going  to  take  it  back.  So  I'm  thinking  that  I'll 
give  the  fifteen  thousand  dollars  to  His  Holiness 
when  I  go  to  Rome  in  October,  so  that  he  will 
grant  Velarde  indulgences." 

>yVARIA  VALDIVIESO  was  much  edified,  and 
111  the  two  cousins  left  the  room,  Curra  picking 
'^^  up  one  white  and  one  black  glove  by  mistake. 
She  discovered  her  mistake  when  she  was  putting 
them  on,  near  the  theatre,  and  wished  to  return 
home  to  change  them. 

"Don't  be  foolish,  dear:  leave  them  as  they 
are.  People  will  think  it  a  clever  idea,  and  you 
will  start  a  new  fashion." 

"Of  course!"  cried  Curra,  delighted. 

And  so  it  happened.  Everyone  thought  this 
caprice  perfectly  charming,  and  the  following  night, 
at  the  opera,  one  saw  everywhere  dresses  of  two 
different  shades,  with  gloves  of  two  separate  colors. 

The  American  singer's  debut  was  a  distinct 
success,  and  the  following  day  Madrid  talked  of 
nothing  but  her  success  and  of  Curra's  gloves.  No 
one  thought  any  more  of  Velarde's  death,  of  the 
episode  of  the  first  lady-in-waiting,  or  the  raid  of 
the  police. 

So  Curra  could  now  breathe  peacefully,  feeling 
that  the  serious  consequences  which  Butron  had 
foretold  upon  her  appointment  as  lady-in-waiting, 
had  vanished  through  her  clever  manoeuvres;  her 
political  fidelity  was  now  firmly  established,  pro- 
ducing among  other  results  these  three  trifles : 
(1)     A  broken  hearted  mother. 


THE  +  SIGN 


(2)  A  soul  in  Hell. 

(3)  The  fashion  of  the  different  gloves. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
M^^^HE  express  from  Marseilles  to  Paris  was 
m  C~\  four  hours  late  owing  to  the  destruction 
^^  J  of  a  bridge  between  Galician  and  St.  Giles 
^^^  the  evening  before.  The  travellers  did  not 
reach  the  capital  until  half  past  four,  hungry  and 
in  ill  humor.  A  man  of  about  thirty  years  was 
among  the  first  to  alight  from  the  sleeper,  and 
crossing  the  street  before  the  crowd  pressed  into  it, 
he  hailed  the  first 
of  the  carriages 
which  stood  there 
in  orderly  line.  The 
driver  carefully  sur- 
veyed the  traveller, 
taking  in  his  appear- 
ance from  head  to 
foot.  The  only  lug- 
gage he  carried  was 
one  of  those  English 
carry-alls,  bound 
with  a  leather  strap, 
which  hold  so  much 
in  a  small  space. 
The  driver  seemed 
satisfied  after  his 
examination,  for  he 
had  detected  under 
the  traveller's  rich 
fur  coat,  a  little  rib- 
bon of  yellow  and 
white  in  the  button 
hole  of  the  coat.  He 
had  been  decorated! 
Stepping  into  the 
cab,  the  traveller 
laconically  gave  an 
address,       speaking 


The  traveller  glanced  at  the  letter  several  times 
with  curiosity,  holding  it  to  the  light  as  though 
attempting  to  see  what  was  within,  through  the 
envelope.  The  thick  linen  prevented  the  contents 
being  seen,  and  the  traveller  was  forced  to  content 
himself  with  looking  at  the  large  handwriting  of 
the  address  manifestly  written  by  one  accustomed 
to  sign  documents  and  letters  rather  than  to  write 
them,  and  sufficently  Italian  to  place  the  little 
dukedom  of  Aosta  before  the  royal  crown  of  Spain. 


© 


Unappreciated 

Nicholas  Ward,  C.  P. 

A  little  weed  grew  at  the  foot  of  a  rose, 

And  they  both  breathed  the  soft  summer  air, 
But  the  little  weed  sighed  as  it  looked  at  the  rose, 

For  the  rose  vJas  so  tall  and  so  fair, 
At  sunset  the  little  weed  tremblingly  spoke 

And  told  of  its  love  to  the  rose, 
But  the  rose  did  not  mind  for  the  language  of  weeds 

Is  one  which  a  weed  only  knows. 

Then  the  little  v?eed  wept  and  the  fair  rose's  feet 
Were  vJashed  and  refresh' d  for  the  night, 

The  birds  of  the  morning  sang  sweet  to  her  heart, 
And  she  lifted  her  head  to  the  light. 

Statelier  she  grew  and  her  green  leaves  spread  wide 
Till  they  shut  out  the  sunlight  and  air; 

Then  the  little  weed  died  at  the  feet  of  the  rose, 


But  the  rose 


never  knew  she  was 


in  well  pronounced  French:  "Grand  Hotel;  Boule- 
vard des  Capucines." 

The  carriage  rolled  forward,  rocking  from  side 
to  side;  but  the  traveller  did  not  seem  filled  with 
either  admiration  or  curiosity,  which  enthuses  those 
who  visit  Paris  for  the  first  time,  second,  third, 
fourth,  or  even  fifth  time.  He  leaned  back  on  the 
well-worn  blue  cloth  of  the  carriage,  and  began  to 
examine  carefully  some  papers  in  a  dispatch-case, 
which  hung  across  one  of  his  shoulders.  None 
were  missing;  in  the  right  hand  pocket  were  several 
letters,  open,  loose  papers,  and  a  small  bundle  of 
bank  notes.  In  the  left  hand  pocket  there  was  a 
large  official-looking  letter,  sealed  in  red  wax  with 
a  royal  crown.    The  envelope  was  addressed  to : 

His  Royal  Highness  the  Duke  of  Aosta, 
King  of  Spain. 


HE  traveller,  deep  in  his  thoughts,  took  from 
a  pocket  a  small  leather  note  book  and  began 
to  arrange  his  tangled  accounts.  At  the  top 
of  one  page,  he 
wrote  the  word  "Ex- 
pectations," and  at 
the  top  of  another 
"Realizations,"  and 
under  the  heading  of 
what  he  seemed  to 
expect,  he  began  to 
add-up  figures  which 
developed  into  addi- 
tions, multiplicatons 
and  divisions,  and 
produced  a  column 
o  f  arithmetical 
chaos,  ending  the 
column  of  "Expecta- 
tions" with  the  sen- 
tence :  "Two  -  nun  - 
dred-thousand  dol- 
lars and  a  cabinet 
portfolio."  Under 
the  head  of  "Reali- 
zations," the  result 
simply  stated: 
"Nothing." 

Then,  as  though 
some  error  might 
have  played  false 
with  his  arithmetical 
problems,  the  traveller,  now  and  again  scratching 
his  high  forehead  with  his  pencil,  continued  to  write 
figures  and  calculations,  until  he  ended  with  another 
horizontal  line,  under  which  appeared  something 
much  less  than  nothing,  which  might  well  have  been 
all  that  the  man  really  possessed:  "One  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars  at  fifteen  per  cent!" 

The  traveller  gazed  at  this  unpleasant  total 
with  disgust,  and  finally  turned  his  eyes  from  the 
note  book  to  the  scene  which  Paris  presented  to  his 
view.  His  eyes  sought  in  the  distance  the  terrace 
of  the  famous  Petit  Club,  which  borders  on  the 
Place  de  la  Concorde,  and  was  the  rendezvous  of  the 
high  life  of  Paris.  '  It  was  a  magnificant  day,  and 
under  the  red  and  white  striped  awning  of  the  club 
he  could  easily  make  out  two  or  three  members  who 
were  watching  the  carriages  on  their  way  to   the 


the 


THE  1"  SIGN 


Bois.  He  felt  happy  as  he  looked  at  the  club,  as 
though  he  knew  that  herein  he  might  find  the  minus 
fifteen  thousand  dollars  at  fifteen  per  cent.  He 
knew  only  too  well  that  there  was  plenty  of  gambling 
within  the  precincts  of  the  club. 

^^^HIS  man  presented  a  curious  likeness  to  Lord 
t  J  Byron.  He  possessed  the  same  striking  beauty 
^■^  of  the  poet,  with  a  similar  magnificent  head 
balanced  on  a  vigorous  neck;  the  same  haughty 
attitude  of  disdain.  His  handsome  eyes  were  dark, 
and  his  chestnut  hair  curled  in  great  natural  waves 
upon  a  broad  forehead.  His  lips  twisted  in  the 
corners  in  that  bitter  line  of  skepticism,  disdain  and 
vice,  always  tired,  and  seldom  satisfied,  which  ap- 
pear so  emphatically  in  good  portraits  of  Byron.  His 
face  was  a  perfect  oval,  with  a  slightly  projecting 
beard.  Two  things  alone  were  lacking  in  the  resem- 
blance: his  left  foot  was  not  lame  and  no  ray  of 
genius  shone  on  his  countenance.  If  this  man  was, 
by  some  miracle,  Byron  returned  to  life,  he  had 
returned  leaving  his  genius  and  lameness  behind 
him,  and  bringing  with  him  but  the  beauty  of  his 
twenty-five  years  and  the  vices  of  a  life-time.  This 
Byron  would  not  have  ventured  to  Greece  to  free  it, 
but  to  exploit  it;  in  his  eyes  was  no  searching  for  the 
ideal,  only  a  reflection  of  sensuality  and  an  eager 
desire  for  money. 

^^^HE  carriage  stopped  at  last  before  the  Grand 
C^)  Hotel  in  the  Boulevard  des  Capucines.  Our 
^^^  modern  Lord  Byron  gave  the  driver  a  hand- 
some fee  and  ran  up  the  hotel  steps,  meeting  at  the 
door  a  tall  old  gentleman  with  large  white  whiskers, 
who  was  limping  out.  The  traveller  turned  away 
as  though  to  avoid  him.  But  the  old  man  hastened 
after  him  into  the  hotel  office,  and  overtaking  him, 
cried  in  Spanish:  "Jacob!  You  are  trying  to  avoid 
me — that  means  that  you  have  some  money!" 

"Diogenes!"  cried  Jacob  with  every  expression 
of  surprise  and  pleasure,  grasping  both  his  hands 
with  great  fervor. 

"What  have  you  been  doing  in  Constantinople? 
I  thought  that  you  were  bringing  us  back  the  Sultan's 
beard!"  said  Diogenes. 

Jacob  held  his  dispatch  case  to  Diogenes's 
nose:  "Omnes  divitiae  sunt  mecum!" 

"Ah,  honest  ambassador!  Those  who  want  to, 
may  believe  you.  But  you  must  have  left  some  of 
the  spoils  behind  at  the  station.  From  where  have 
you  come?" 

"From  Geneva.  And  what  are  you  doing 
here?" 

"Suffering  from  ill-fortune,  my  boy.  Last 
night  some  villain  won  five  thousand  francs  from 
me  in  half  a  second." 

"Impossible!  I  though  that  you  had  sworn 
off?" 

"Not  until  I  am  buried,  my  boy!  You  must 
try  a  hand  at  the  Petit  Club :  there  is  heavy  playing 


there.  Last  evening  I  saw  that  devil  of  a  Ponoski 
win  two  thousand  louis." 

"Ponoski  here?  I  would  like  to  see  him,  only 
I  am  off  again  tomorrow." 

"To-morrow?  Where  in  the  devil  are  you  off 
to?" 

"To  Madrid." 

"To  Madrid!  Polaina!  You'll  get  a  bullet 
through  you!" 

"What  do  you  mean?    What's  up  down  there?" 

"My  little  ambassador,  where  have  you  been? 
Haven't  you  heard  the  news?  This  morning  King 
Amadeo  started  for  Portugal,  saying  "Good  riddance 
to  bad  rubbish,"  and  at  this  moment,  I  have  no 
doubt,  Figuerillas  and  Don  Emilio  Castelar  are 
bombarding  Madrid  preparatory  to  setting  up  a 
Republic.  They  have  completely  beaten  you,  my 
boy!    Absolutely!" 

**" — I'ACOB  was  both  astonished  and  horrified  to 
ff  L  hear  this  news,  and  seizing  Diogenes'  arm, 
^^^  he  cried  in  a  changed  voice,  as  if  this  sudden 
political  catstrophe  meant  much  to  him :  "What  do 
you  mean?     It's  impossible!" 

"Polaina!  Impossible!  Come  over  here;  some- 
one who  knows  can  tell  you.  Yesterday  the  Italian 
abdicated,  and  to-day  at  six  he  went  off  to  Lisbon; 
at  this  moment  Madrid  will  be  on  fire.  Already  the 
hotel  has  received  over  twenty  telegrams  asking  for 
rooms." 

And  while  Diogenes  was  excitedly  explaining 
all  this,  he  drew  Jacob  up  the  steps  of  the  hotel  to 
the  terrace.  One  might  have  thought  oneself  in  an 
aristocratic  drawing-room  of  the  Spanish  Court. 
Spanish  was  being  spoken  on  all  sides,  and  here 
and  there  in  groups  one  noticed  both  men  and  ladies 
of  the  Spanish  aristocracy,  and  politicians  of  the 
Isabella  II.  school. 

Everyone  was  talking  about  the  news  from 
Spain;  some  already  saw  Prince  Alfonso  seated  on 
the  throne  deserted  by  Aosta,  others  prophecied  a 
Republic  under  the  sway  of  the  masses;  others  saw 
Carlist  soldiers  at  the  gates  of  Madrid,  in  the  empty 
palace,  and  seizing  the  vacant  throne. 

Everyone  was  anxiously  waiting  for  the  mail, 
and  for  the  return  of  Uncle  Frasquito,  who  had  gone 
out  in  search  of  authentic  news.  In  the  reading- 
room  which  opened  on  the  terrace,  several  ladies 
were  seated,  among  them  being  Curra  Albornoz  and 
the  Duchess  of  Bara.  In  the  middle  of  a  group  of 
men,  Leopoldina  Pastor  was  talking  with  great 
vehemence,  demanding  that  the  men  at  once  arm 
themselves,  and  explaining  her  martial  and  strategic 
plans.  The  men  were  frankly  amused  as  they 
listened  to  Leopoldina  while  she  hung  on  the  buttons 
of  their  coats.  Ah,  if  she  were  but  a  man!  And 
she  declaimed  yet  more  vehemently. 

The  arrival  of  Jacob  did  not  make  a  favorable 
impression  on  anyone.  He  was  either  the  friend  or 
relative  of  nearly  everyone  present,  on  the  side  of 
his  own  family  as  well  as  that  of  his  wife,  who 


n 


HE  +  SIGN 


posessed  a  title  high  among  the  nobility.  He  had 
left  her  two  years  previously,  and  led  a  luxurious, 
bachelor's  life  in  Paris  and  in  Italy,  until,  pursued 
by  creditors,  he  had  again  returned  to  Spain  in  1868, 
there  taking  a  prominent  part  in  the  Revolution. 
He  had  played  the  part  of  a  Lafayette  for  a  short 
time,  and  then  disappeared,  only  to  turn  up  later 
as  the  Amadist  ambassador  in  Constantinople. 

QATURALLY  everyone  was  surprised  to  find 
him  in  Paris  at  this  particular  time,  leaving 
his   diplomatic   post   behind   him,   and   they 

received  him  with  the  suspicious  scorn  which 
the  defeated  enemy  always  finds  when  he  flees  after 
the  battle  is  over  to  the  victorious  army. 

Jacob  pretended  not  to  notice  the  coldness  with 
which  he  was  received,  and  did  not  allow  the  un- 
easiness which  the  verification  of  Diogenes'  news 
brought  to  him,  to  be  observed  by  anyone.  He  was 
entirely  without  news,  or  pretended  that  he  was. 
He  had  left  Constantinople  two  months  ago  for 
Turin,  going  on  to  Florence  and  Geneva,  and  after 
a  pleasant  journey  around  the  Italian  Riviera,  he 
had  dropped  at  Nice  and  at  Monaco. 

Curra  had  been  stealthily  watching  the  hand- 
some traveller  from  her  seat.  She  had  not  recog- 
nized him  at  first,  for  it  was  difficult  to  see  in  this 
full  blown  man  the  young  Jacob  Tellez  Ponce,  who 
had  married  twelve  years  before  the  Marchioness  of 
Sabadell,  a  distant  cousin  of  Curra's. 

She  would  not  have  recognized  him  at  all,  if 
Leopoldina  Pastor  had  not  approached  and  said: 
"Do  you  see  Jacob  Tellez?  They  are  saying  that 
in  Constantinople  he  married  a  lovely  Turkish  lady. 
I  am  wondering  if  he  has  brought  the  good-for- 
nothing  with  him." 

The  Duchess  of  Bara  made  some  derogatory 
remark,  at  which  the  ladies  laughed,  and  Curra  said : 
"Is  that  Jacob?  Who  would  have  thought  it?  I 
thought  that  it  was  Byron  himself,  my  favorite  poet! 
It's  a  perfect  likeness!"  She  rose  quickly  to  go 
over  to  him.  But  the  Duchess  of  Bara  caught  her 
by  the  skirt.  Curra  pulled  herself  away,  saying: 
"My  dear,  he's  my  own  cousin.  I  can't  slight  a 
relative!" 

Meanwhile  Jacob  had  approached  the  group, 
and  saluted  the  ladies,  kissing  the  hands  of  the 
Duchess  of  Bara  and  Curra.  The  latter  with  many 
affectionate  flatteries,  made  room  for  him  at  her 
side.  They  talked  awhile  of  Jacob's  journey,  until 
the  arrival  of  Uncle  Frasquito  interrupted  them. 
Everybody  started  to  run  over  to  him,  including 
Jacob,'  but  Curra  held  him  a  moment  by  the  arm  and 
said  to  him:  "Shall  we  see  you  again,  Jacob?  I 
want  to  present  you  to  Ferdinand.  Our  rooms  are  on 
the  second  floor,  number  120." 

The  Duchess  leaned  over  to  Leopoldina  and 
whispered:  "Did  you  hear?  She  wishes  to  present 
him  to  Ferdinand." 

Leopoldina  made  a  face,  and  replied:  "I  sup- 
pose we  should  be  both  blind  and  deaf." 


And  the  two  laughed  merrily. 


OYED,  covered  with  cosmetics,  dancing  on  the 
tips  of  his  .toes,  unable  to  walk  otherwise 
owing  to  his  tight  shoes,  Uncle  Frasquito 
stumbled  up  the  terrace  in  a  great  hurry.  He  was 
the  uncle  of  all  the  nobility  of  Spain,  of  wealthy 
men  from  all  cradles,  of  all  political  and  literary 
celebrities,  daring  adventurers,  who  formed  the  "all 
Madrid"  of  the  Court,  the  mixed  dessus  de  panier 
of  the  social  world  of  Madrid.  All  these  people 
called  him  Uncle  Frasquito  and  he  gladly  accepted 
the  title  and  the  relationship  of  those  whose  blood 
had  really  mingled  with  his  own  several  centuries 
ago. 

In  the  midst  of  his  universal  family,  Uncle 
Frasquito  had  played  a  conspicuous  part  for  half 
a  century,  seeing  pass  before  him  generation  after 
generation  of  nephews  and  nices,  legitimate  or  false, 
who  had  been  born,  married,  had  children,  died, 
and  been  forgotten,  without  his  ever  passing  his 
thirty-third  year,  shielded  as  he  was  in  a  very  tight 
corset  which  confined  the  factious  rebellions  of  his 
abdomen.  The  story  was  often  told  that  Uncle 
Frasquito  wore  on  his  person  no  less  than  thirty- 
two  false  articles,  among  which  were  a  cork  hip.  He 
was  a  wealthy  bachelor,  lived  quietly,  and  had 
neither  debts  nor,  any  publicly  known,  vices.  He 
was  pleasant,  courtly,  obsequious,  with  the  manners 
of  a  modest  young  lady,  and  inflections  of  voice 
like  an  affected  sire.  He  collected  diplomatic 
seals,  made  embroidered  tapestry,  and  played  a  flute 
very  badly. 

Diogenes  pursued  him  and  persecuted  him 
through  drawing-rooms  and  salons,  calling  him 
Francesca  di  Rimini,  and  sometimes  Senora  Fras- 
quito, and  gave  him  affectionate  squeezes  when  he 
took  refuge  among  the  ladies,  as  was  his  custom, 
squeezes  which  rumpled  his  shirt-front;  or  else 
impetuous  embraces  which  made  the  unfortunate 
gentleman  hurry  to  wash  and  rub  himself  violently 
with  cold  cream.  Diogenes  would  step  on  his 
victim's  toes,  spoiling  the  polish  on  his  boots,  or 
dislocate  his  fingers  with  violent  handclasps.  These 
two  old  men,  one  so  different  from  the  other,  were 
really  but  two  types  of  the  same  society,  two  fossils 
of  a  past  century,  and  examples  of  those  unsub- 
stantial or  effeminate  fops  who  had  ruined  Spain 
and  discredited  the  nobility. 

aNCLE  Frasquito  walked  to  the  terrace,  and 
corroborated  to  those  who  thronged  round  be- 
sieging him  with  questions,  the  news  that 
Don  Amadeo  had  gone  to  Lisbon  with  his  family 
and  that  the  Republic  had  been  founded. 

"The  Spanish  Republic!"  he  exclaimed,  taking 
off  his  hat  in  mock  reverence.  And  amid  scornful 
jeers  and  ironic  laughter  he  read  out  of  a  notebook 
the  names  of  the  first  Republican  cabinet. 

The  telegrams  also  announced  that  Don  Carlos 


THE  1*  SIGN 


had  entered  Spain,  and  that  his  followers,  taking 
advantage  of  the  confusion,  intended  to  make  a 
final  bid  for  the  throne.  This  disgusted  everyone, 
as  the  Carlists  were  feared  far  more  than  the 
Republic;  and  a  perfect  tornado  of  discussion  ensued 
on  this  news. 

The  electric  bell  which  announced  the  arrival 
of  new  travelers  rang  at  this  moment;  presently  a 
man  rushed  in  to  announce  excitedly  that  Lopez 
Moreno's  wife  had  arrived,  having  come  through 
from  Madrid,  and  that  she  had  been  nearly  killed. 

"One  of  her  ears  is  torn  off!"  he  cried. 

Horrors  depicted  on  their  countenances,  the 
company  rushed  out  to  meet  the  banker's  earless 
wife.  The  Duchess  of  Bara,  with  those  unpleasant 
mortgages  in  her  mind,  attempted  to  steal  out  of  the 
reading-room,  but  so  unsuccessful  was  her  manoeuvre 
that  she  ran  into  the  lady,  her  daughter  Lucy,  two 
maids,  a  man  servant,  seventeen  trunks,  and  numer- 
ous valises  and  bags  in  the  court-yard.  The 
banker's  wife  was  pale  and  frightened,  and  the  lobe 
of  one  of  her  ears  was  actually  bleeding. 

The  Duchess  saw  she  was  caught,  and  accord- 
ingly greeted  the  banker's  wife  affectionately: 
"Ramona,  my  dear!    Why  didn't  you  let  me  know?" 

"Know!"  cried  the  excited  lady.  "I  am  grateful 
to  have  escaped  alive!  What  a  journey,  Duchess! 
I  was  nearly  killed!  I  revived  only  yesterday:  it 
was  a  miracle,  a  real  miracle!" 

"Terrible!"  cried  the  Duchess,  glancing  around 
cautiously  with  the  hope  that  Providence  had  not 
spared  M.  Lopez  Moreno  as  well.  "Where  is  your 
husband?     Isn't  he  here?" 

"He  is  still  in  Spain,  that  is,  if  he  is  alive!" 

And  surrounded  by  the  Spaniards,  the  talkative 
lady  narrated  the  tale  of  her  misfortunes.  Spain 
was  rapidly  going  to  the  devil.  People  were  escap- 
ing from  Madrid  in  crowds,  and  it  seemed  that  the 
last  trump  had  sounded  in  the  Court. 


"Delightful!"  murmured  Diogenes.  "I  have 
always  been  waiting  for  the  last  trump.  Think  of 
what  will  be  revealed  when  the  angel  says:  "Every 
dollar  to  its  real  owner,  and  every  child  to  its 
father!" 

The  Duchess  silenced  him  with  a  tap  of  her 
fan,  and  Lopez  Moreno's  wife,  satisfied  at  last  to 
find  herself  the  center  of  so  much  attention,  con- 
tinued her  story.  Her  descriptions  were  graphic, 
and  as  she  was  the  bearer  of  the  latest  genuine 
news  from  Spain,  General  Pastor,  the  valiant 
Leopoldina's  father,  who  occupied  a  high  position 
in  Alfonsist  circles  in  Paris,  suggested  that  she 
should  be  brought  to  the  Queen,  that  Her  Majesty 
might  hear  this  budget  of  news  in  person.  The 
banker's  wife  was  overcome  with  pleasure  at  this 
suggestion,  and  the  Duchess,  who  repaid  her  debt 
in  attention  since  she  could  not  do  so  in  money, 
hastened  to  exclaim:  "A  splendid  idea!  I  will 
accompany  her.  I  will  request  an  audience  with  the 
Queen  to-morrow." 

Senora  Moreno  was  overcome  again  by  this 
proposal;  the  dream  of  her  life,  to  be  presented  at 
Court,  was  at  last  within  realization;  and  she  for- 
got even  her  torn  ear  in  the  excitement.  The 
General  on  his  side  was  merely  following  Button's 
famous  policy  of  sweeping  everyone  within  the 
Alfonsist  circle,  and  was  already  calculating  the 
benefit  which  would  accrue  to  the  sacred  cause 
through  a  potantial  control  over  Moreno's  money 
bags.  During  this  scene,  Curra  had  been  watching 
Jacob,  who  was  listening  to  everything  which  was 
said,  and  who  seemed  in  no  particular  hurry  to  go  to 
his  room  to  prepare  for  dinner.  However  when  the 
party  broke  up,  Curra  missed  him  in  the  reading- 
room,  nor  could  she  find  him  in  the  courtyard,  nor 
on  the  terrace.  He  had  disappeared  completely. 
( To  be  continued) 


In    Our   Stead 


OURING  the  dark  months  of  the  "Reign  of 
Terror."  Carlyle  tells  us  in  his  "French 
Revolution,"  an  old  gentleman  walked  up  to 
the  gate  of  the  city  prison  one  morning  early  in 
hope  of  getting  a  brief  interview  with  his  son, 
son,  then  lying  under  sentence  of  death,  or  what 
amounted  to  the  same  thing,  awaiting  his  trial 
before  the  revolutionary  tribunal.  His  name  was 
Loiserolles.  As  he  stood  there  in  the  chill  morning 
air,  among  the  crowd  of  prisoners'  relatives,  the 
dreaded  cart  so  well  known  in  Paris  then,  that 
conveyed  its  daily  load  to  the  guillotine,  arrived 
at  the  prison  door.  A  list  of  names  was  produced, 
and  the  crowd  closed  in  on  the  officer  as  he  read 
the  fatal  roll-call.  "Loiserolles!"  was  one  of  the 
names  shouted  along  the  corridor:  and  "Here,  I 
am  Loiserolles!"  was  answered  suddenly  from  the 
crowd.  The  voice  was  not  that  of  the  young 
prisoner  asleep  at  that  moment  in  his  cell:  it  was 


older,  feebler,  and  a  trifle  more  eager  than  a 
prisoner's  might  be  supposed  to  be:  but  there  was 
no  time  and  no  care  to  make  investigation.  The 
father  was  taken  for  the  son.  He  was  seized, 
bound,  hurried  off  and  executed.  He  died  for  his 
boy  who  was  asleep.  Not  till  long  afterwards  did 
the  younger  Loiserolles  know  at  what  a  sacrifice 
his  life  had  been  purchased. 

Commenting  on  this  heroic  incident,  Balgarnie 
would  sa  ythat  the  day  of  our  trial  and  judgment 
was  past :  the  morning  of  our  execution  had  arrived : 
we  as  prisoners  of  sin  and  Satan  were  summoned 
to  receive  the  death  penalty:  the  sons  of  men  were 
called.  "But  I  am  the  Son  of  Man"  was  the  answer 
given  to  the  challenge.  If,  therefore,  ye  seek  Me, 
let  these  go  their  way.  Let  them  sleep  now  and 
take  their  rest  .  .  .  then  let  them  awake  and  know 
what  I  have  done  for  them." 


A  Form  of  Catholic  Activity 


Charles  A.  McMahon 
Editor,  N.  C.  W.  C.  Bulletin 


ON  September  24,  1919,  ninety-one  arch- 
bishops and  bishops  of  the  American 
Hierarchy  met  at  the  Catholic  University 
of  America  and  formed  the  National  Catho- 
lic Welfare  Council.  The  meeting  appointed  a  com- 
mittee of  seven  of  its  members  to  perfect  the 
machinery  of  the  council,  to  establish  its  several 
departments  and  to  co-ordinate  their  work  in  certain 
important  fields  of  Catholic  endeavor.  At  two  sub- 
sequent annual  meetings  of  the  Hierarchy,  in  1920 
and  1921,  the  bishops  of  the  country  approved  the 
Council's  work  and  provided  funds  for  the  continua- 
tion of  its  departmental  programs. 

In  two  and  one  half 
years  during  which  the 
Welfare  Council  has  been 
operating,  the  organiza- 
tion has  crystallized  into 
permanent  form.  It  has 
established  five  great  de- 
partments, each  under  the 
direction  of  an  episcopal 
chairman  and  it  has  ac- 
complished splendid  re- 
sults in  the  name  of  the 
Catholic  body  of  America. 
Through  its  Press  Bureau, 
through  the  columns  of  its 
monthly  magazine,  the  N. 

C.  W.  C.  BULLETIN,  and  through  the  lectures  and 
talks  of  numerous  speakers,  the  meaning  and 
message  of  the  Welfare  Council  have  been  brought 
to  a  considerable  number  of  persons  and  to  many 
different  communities  throughout  the  country.  And 
yet  very  little  is  known  by  the  average  Catholic 
concerning  the  aims  and  purposes  of  the  organiza- 
tion, as  to  why  the  bishops  of  the  country  deemed  it 
necessary,  what  it  has  accomplished  up  to  this  time, 
and  what  it  is  planning  for  the  future. 

What  is  this  organization  of  the  National  Catho- 
lic Welfare  Council  to  which  Professor  Carlton  J. 
H.  Hayes,  Professor  of  History  at  Columbia  Uni- 
versity, points  as  the  "most  significant  and  fruitful 
creation  of  the  war?" 


Vexilla   Regis  Prodeunt 

From  the  Divine  Office 

The  banners  of  the  King  go  forth, 

The  resplendent  Sign  's  revealed  to  men; 

— The  Cross  on  which  Life  suffered  death, 

And  by  death  brought  back  life  again. 

The  question  is  answered  by  David  I.  Walsh, 
U.  S.  Senator  from  Massachusetts,  in  these  words: 
"The  Welfare  Council  is  the  agency  in  America  by 
which  the  Catholic  laity  can  be  doers  rather  than 
hearers  of  the  word.  ...  in  which  bishops,  priests, 
press  and  Catholic  laity,  all  united,  can  plan  together, 
work  together,  fight  together  to  make  this  a  better, 
more  Christian,  God-fearing  and  God-loving 
America." 

Vj^HAT  is  there  in  the  scheme  of  the  N.  C.  W.  C. 
\l/  to  command  the  interest  and  service  of  a  man 
like  Admiral  William  S.  Benson,  knighted  by 
the  late  Pope  Benedict 
XV.  with  the  order  of  St. 
Gregory  the  Great  and 
pronounced  by  former 
Secretary  of  War,  Newton 
D.  Baker,  as  one  of  the 
five  men  who  did  the  most 
to  win  the  world  war  ?  In 
Admiral  Benson's  own 
words  "The  plan  of  the 
N.  C.  W.  C.  is  so  splendid, 
the  purpose  so  compelling, 
that  when  the  necessity 
for  orderly  and  sincere 
organization  is  understood, 
there  is  not  a  parish  or 
mission  but  will  rally  to  the  cry  of  'God  and 
Country,'  service  to  both,  genuine  and  untiring,  every 
month  and  every  month  of  every  year."  And  to 
show  that  his  faith  in  the  organization  was  moving 
him  to  something  more  than  mere  lip  service, 
Admiral  Benson,  one  of  the  busiest  men  in  the 
whole  country,  has  served  successively  as  parish 
president,  district  president,  diocesan  president  and 
now  national  president  of  the  National  Council  of 
Catholic  Men. 

Before  proceeding  further  with  this  necessarily 
brief  sketch,  it  might  be  well  to  inquire  the  reasons 
which  impelled  the  bishops  themselves  in  1919  to 
launch  the  organization  of  the  Welfare  Council.  In 
their  own  words  as  contained  in  the  pastoral  letter 


14 


THE  +  SIGN 
of  the  archbishops  and  bishops  of  the  United  States, 
issued  early  in  1920  to  the  clergy  and  laity  of  their 
charge,  the  reasons  are  stated  as  follows : — 

"In  view  of  the  results  obtained  through  the 
merging  of  our  activities  for  the  time  and  purpose 
of  war,  we  determined  to  maintain,  for  the  ends  of 
peace,  the  spirit  of 
the  union  and  the 
coordination  of  our 
forces.  We  have 
accordingly 
grouped  together, 
under  the  National 
Catholic  Welfare 
Council,  the  vari- 
ous agencies  by 
which  the  cause  of 
religion  is  fur- 
thered. Each  of 
these,  continuing 
its  own  special 
work  in  its  chosen 
field,  will  now  de- 
rive additional  sup- 
port through  gen- 
eral co-operation. 
And  all  will  be 
brought  into  closer 
contact  with  the 
Hierarchy,  which 
bears  the  burden 
alike  of  authority 
and  of  responsibil- 
ity for  the  interests 
of  the  Catholic 
Church. 

"Under  the 
direction  of  the 
Council,  and,  im- 
mediately, of  the 
A  d  m  i  n  i  s  t  rative 
Committee,  several 
departments  have 
been  established, 
as    follows :     The 

Department  of  Education ;  Department  of  Press  and 
Publicity;  Department  of  Laws  and  Legislation; 
Department  of  Social  Action;  and  Department  of 
Lay  Organizations. 

"The  task  assigned  to  each  is  so  laborious  and 
yet   so  promising  of   results,  that  we  may  surely 


THE  LATE  CARDINAL  GIBBONS 
First  President  of  the  Welfare  Council 


expect,  with  the  Divine  assistance  and  the  loyal 
support  of  our  clergy  and  people,  to  promote  more 
effectually  the  glory  of  God,  the  interests  of  His 
Church,  and  the  welfare  of  our  country." 

It  can  be  seen,  therefore,  that  the  Welfare 
Council  was  an  outgrowth  of  the  war  inasmuch  as 
it  is  the  successor 
|  of  the  emergency 
organization  —  the 
National  Catholic 
War  Council  — 
created  by  the 
American  Hier- 
archy at  the  time 
of  America's  en- 
trance into  the 
world  war  and 
through  which  the 
archbishops  and 
bishops  of  the 
Church  in  America 
directed  and  inspir- 
ed the  mighty  ser- 
vices ot  twenty 
million  united  and 
patriotic  Catholics 
during  the  greatest 
crisis  in  American 
history.  Previous 
to  the  establish- 
ment of  the  War 
Council,  the  Catho- 
lic people  of  the 
country  had  no 
national  organiza- 
tion, no  representa- 
tive  society, 
through  which 
Catholic  opinion 
could  be  made 
known  in  an 
authoritative  man- 
ner and  by  which 
unified  Catholic 
action  could  be 
effectively  directed  in  emergencies  in  which  the 
entire  Catholic  body  of  America  was  immediately 
concerned  or  which  affected  the  interests  of  the 
whole  American  people.  No  attempt  had  ever  been 
made  to  solidify  nationally  the  mighty  forces  of 
American  Catholicism,  the  result  being  that  although 


THE  +SIGN 


possessed  of  unity  of  faith,  the  Catholics  of  America 
lacked  unity  of  action  and  were  not  making  the 
imprint  upon  our  national  life  in  the  various  fields 
of  social  activity  which  their  collective  strength  war- 
ranted them  in  doing. 

The  war  brought  to  the  Catholics  of  Ameri- 
ca a  heavy  responsibility  and  a  splendid  oppor- 
tunity. When  Cardinal  Gibbons  offered  to  the 
President,  as  the  first  pledge  to  be  made  by  any 
religious  group  in  the 
United  States,  the  pat- 
riotic services  and 
loyal  support  of  the 
entire  Catholic  body, 
stating  that  "Our 
people  will  rise  as  one 
man  to  serve  the 
nation,"  he  knew  that 
the  Catholics  o  f 
America  would  fulfil 
this  pledge  without 
reservation  and  with- 
out exception;  but  he 
also  knew  that  in 
order  to  make  the 
fulfilment  certain,  a 
national  organization 
was  needed  —  an 
organization  which 
was  official,  which 
was  representative  ol 
the  ecclesiastical  au- 
thority of  the  Church, 
and  capable  of  acting 
intelligently  and  ef- 
fectively in  the  ren- 
dition of  the  services 
required  of  it  in  the 
country's   crisis. 


Archbishop   of  San   Francisco 
Chairman  Administrative  Committee 


a  GENERAL  convention  of  the  Catholics  of 
the  country  was  held  in  Washington  on  August 
11  and  12,  1917,  to  establish  such  an  organiza- 
tion and  the  National  Catholic  War  Council  was 
the  result.  Its  objects  were  to  promote  the  spiritual 
and  material  welfare  of  the  United  States  troops  at 
home  and  abroad  and  to  study,  co-ordinate,  unify 
and  put  into  operation  all  Catholic  activities  inci- 
dental to  the  war.  How  well  these  objects  were 
attained,  both  during  the  war  and  in  the  reconstruc- 
tion   period    which    followed,    is    told    in    Michael 


Williams'  history  of  the  War  Council,  "American 
Catholics  in  the  War,"  published  during  the  past 
year  and  reviewed  in  the  February  issue  of  The  Sign. 
The  reading  of  this  story  of  Catholic  patriotism, 
sacrifice  and  service  has  been  urged  upon  all  our 
Catholic  people  by  the  highest  authorities  in  the 
Church  and  no  Catholic  who  is  anxious  to  get  the 
inspiration  of  the  splendid  beginnings  of  the  Wel- 
fare Council  can  afford  not  to  read  this  excellent 
book 

The  magnificent 
record  of  Catholics 
during  the  wai  and 
reconstruction  period, 
and  the  helpful  ser- 
vice which  they  ren- 
dered both  to  the 
country  and  to  the 
Church  in  the  great 
variety  of  activities 
handled  by  the  emer- 
gency war  organiza- 
tion, impressed  upon 
the  members  of  the 
Hierarchy  the  neces- 
sity of  continuing  in 
peace  times  many  of 
the  useful  activities 
of  the  war  period. 
Reminded  by  His 
Holiness,  the  late 
Pope  Benedict  XV. 
that  the  Universal 
Church  was  now  look- 
ing to  America  to  be 
the  leader  in  all 
things  Catholic,  and 
realizing  that  without 
unity  of  action  and 
thorough  organization 
effective  leadership  was  impossible,  the  Hierarchy, 
at  their  annual  meeting  in  Washington  in  September 
1919,  determined  to  perpetuate  the  work  of  the  War 
Council  in  a  permanent  organization  to  be  known 
as  the  National  Catholic  Welfare  Council. 

BS  a  result  of  the  meeting  in  September,  1919, 
the    bishops,    a    short   time    later,    issued    a 
remarkable    pastoral    letter   which    set   forth 
the  attitude  of  the  Church  and  the  Hierarchy  toward 
the  many  problems   of   reconstruction   which   were 


THE  +SIGN 


engaging  not  only  the  attention  of  the  Catholic 
people  of  the  United  States  but  the  thought  of 
America  and  the  entire  world. 
This  pastoral  (a  copy  of  which 
should  be  in  the  possession  of 
every  adult  Catholic)  received 
the  most  widespread  publicity 
and  the  most  favorable  com- 
ment from  the  American  press. 
In  it  the  bishops  stated  that 
"the  tasks  of  peace  demanded 
that  our  people  should  arise 
above  all  minor  considerations 
and  unite  their  endeavors  for 
the  good  of  the  country."  In 
it  was  a  call  for  the  Catholic 
body  of  the  country  to  unite 
their  forces,  to  join  themselves 
together  under  the  direction  of 
their  bishops  and  with  the  ideals 
of  Holy  Mother  Church  before 
them  to  work  nationally  in  one 
splendid  body  to  uphold  Ameri- 
can traditions,  to  promote 
American  ideals  and  to  work 
under  the  banner  of  "GOD  AND 
COUNTRY"  for  the  restoration 
of  the  kingdom  of  Christ 
throughout  America  and  the 
world. 

Thus  was  the  permanent 
organization  of  the  Welfare 
Council  launched,  to  unite,  co- 
ordinate and  express  nationally 
the  splendid  forces  of  American 
Catholicism.  In  order  that  the 
work  of  the  Welfare  Council 
might  be  organized,  co-ordinat- 
ed and  administrated  in  the 
most  effective  manner,  the 
Hierarchy  appointed  an  admin- 
istrative committee  of  seven  of 
its  members  to  manage  the 
affairs  of  the  Welfare  Council. 
The  most  Rev.  Edward  J. 
Hanna,  Archbishop  of  San 
Francisco,  was  appointed  chair- 
man of  the  administrative  com- 
mittee and  the  following 
episcopal  chairman  of  the  various  departments  were 
elected  to   assist  him :     His   Emience   D.   Cardinal 


Dougherty,  Archbishop  of  Philadelphia,  Chairman 
of  the  Department  of  Laws  and  Legislation;  Most 
Rev.  Austin  Dowling,  Arch- 
bishop of  St.  Paul,  Chairman 
of  the  Department  of  Educa- 
tion; Rt.  Rev.  Peter  J.  Muldoon, 
Bishop  of  Rockford,  Chairman 
of  the  Department  of  Social 
Action;  Rt.  Rev.  Wm.  T.  Rus- 
sell, Bishop  of  Charleston, 
Chairman  of  the  Department 
of  Press  and  Publicity;  and  Rt. 
Rev.  Joseph  Schrembs,  Bishop 
of  Cleveland,  Chairman  of  the 
Department  of  Lay  Organiza- 
tions. Later,  when  Cardinal 
Dougherty  resigned  from  the 
committee,  Rt.  Rev.  Edmund  F. 
Gibbons,  Bishop  of  Albany,  the 
seventh  member  of  the  com- 
mittee, was  elected  Chairman 
of  the  Department  of  Laws  and 
Legislation,  and  Rt.  Rev.  Louis 
S.  Walsh,  Bishop  of  Portland, 
was  elected  to  membership  on 
the   committee. 


Archbishop  of  St.   Paul 
Chairman   Dept.  of   Education 


j-Z<u^j^  <fr.  &ui^i 


Bishop  of  Albany 
Chairman   Dept.    Laws  and   Legislation 


H 


IMITATION  of  space 
permits  mention  of  only 
a  few  of  the  comments 
of  the  bishops  of  the  country 
as  contained  in  formal  pro- 
nouncements approving  of  the 
council  as  a  whole  and  of  the 
work  of  the  various  depart- 
ments. The  quotations  given, 
express  the  mind  of  a  great 
majority  of  the  Hierarchy  in 
explaining  the  N.  C.  W.  C. 
Archbishop  Hanna  said  recent- 
ly, "Our  plan  is  the  uniting  of 
all  our  forces  that  we  may  work 
nationally;  that  we  may  put  our 
ideals  into  our  national  life. 
which  we  have  not  done  suffici- 
ently in  the  past."  Bishop 
Schrembs  of  Cleveland,  episco- 
pal chairman  of  the  Lay 
Organizations  Department,  com- 
posing the  National  Councils  of  Catholic  Men  and 
Catholic  Women,  not  long  ago  stated :  "We  want  our 


THE  +  SIGN 


Catholic  manhood  and  our  Catholic  womanhood  to 
organize  along  the  lines  laid  down  by  the  National 
Catholic  Welfare  Council.  We 
want  a  strong,  vigorous,  pulsat- 
ing Catholic  conscience  that 
will  energize  their  endeavor, 
vitalize  their  activity  in  our 
national  life."  Archbishop 
Hayes,  in  addressing  a  mass 
meeting  in  New  York  held 
under  the  auspices  of  the 
National  Council  of  Catholic 
Women,  said:  "I  am  very  glad 
to  get  behind  this  national 
organization  in  a  national  way 
and  anything  I  can  do  to  place 
it  upon  a  solid  basis  and  to 
bring  about  better  work  not 
only  locally  but  also  throughout 
the  country,  I  shall  try  to  do." 
Bishop  Gibbons  of  Albany,  in 
voicing  his  approval  of  the 
N.  C.  W.  C.  movement,  remark- 
ed :  "The  importance  to  the 
Church  and  to  society  of  the 
movement  can  hardly  be  over- 
estimated. The  Welfare  Coun- 
cil has  urged  us,  both  clergy 
and  laity  to  be  more  Catholic 
in  our  outlook,  our  plans  and 
our  activities.  It  has  shown  the 
way  to  the  union  necessary 
to  handle  our  problems  effec- 
tively." In  urging  the  organi- 
zation of  the  National  Council 
of  Catholic  Men  in  the  Milwau- 
kee Archdiocese,  Archbishop 
Messmer  called  upon  all  to  take 
an  active  part  in  the  organiza- 
tion, stating:  "If  the  Catholic 
church  in  the  United  States 
does  not  occupy  today  the 
prominent  and  influential  posi- 
tion it  might  and  ought  to  have, 
it  is  because  her  great  and 
irresistible  powers  for  reform 
and  up-lift  and  welfare  in  all 
the  phases  of  public  life  have 
not  been  brought  into  full  play." 
Many  other  archbishops  and  bishops  have  spoken 
along  similar  lines. 

li 


ep 


shop  of  Cleveland 
Chairman    Dept.    Lay   Organizations 


-r 


frf«KiJ' 


Bishop    o 
Chairman  Dept. 


MPHASIZING  a  point  dwelt  upon  by  Arch- 
shop  Messmer  in  his  pastoral,  referred  to 
in  the  foregoing,  Professor 
Hayes  of  Columbia  University, 
in  addressing  the  eleven  hun- 
dred delegates  and  members  of 
the  National  Council  of  Catho- 
lic Women  assembled  in  Wash- 
ington last  September,  pointed 
out  that  while  possessed  of 
unity  of  faith,  Catholics  were 
sadly  lacking  in  unity  of  organi- 
zation and  action  and  therefore 
were  not  making  the  impress 
upon  the  national  life  of  Ameri- 
ca that  their  numbers  warranted 
them  in  making.  On  this  point 
Professor  Hayes  remarked: 

"In  spite  of  the  Church's 
amazing  growth,  American  Ca- 
tholics have  had  no  such  influ- 
ence upon  the  thought  and  life 
of  the  whole  nation  as  their 
numbers  would  lead  us  to 
expect.  Now  for  the  first  time 
real  opportunity  presents  itself 
to  the  Catholic  Church  in  the 
United  States.  The  way  is  at 
last  prepared  for  Catholicism 
to  supply  spiritual  and  intellect- 
ual leaders  to  the  American 
nation.  We  are  no  longer 
immigrants.  We  are  Americans, 
and  as  such,  we  take  second 
place  to  none  in  allegiance  to 
our  country  and  in  prayer  and 
work  for  her  prosperity  and 
well-doing." 

0  much  for  the  opinions 
of  ecclesiastical  and  lay 
leaders    relative    to    the 
/3  /,         plan   of   the   Welfare   Council. 

"  I  (A^m*~*/v  Tne  question  will  now  be  asked 

V^_^  "What   has   the   N.   C.   W.   C. 

done  to  merit  such  enthusiastic 
approval  ?  Notwithstanding  the 
fact  that  a  considerable  period 
of  time  has  been  taken  up  out- 
lining the  necessary  activities  and  programs  of  the 
various  departments  of  the  N.  C.  W.  C,  in  selecting  a 


f    Charleston 
Press  and  Publicity 


THE  1*  SIGN 


capable  personnel,  and  in  co-ordinating  the  activities 
of  the  several  departments  into  an  harmonious  and 
effective  whole,  the  reviewer  of  the  Council's  work, 
especially  during  the  past  year,  finds  a  remarkable 
total  of  accomplishments. 

It  should  be  kept  in  mind  that  the  Executive 
Department  has  the  responsibility  for  the  supervi- 
sion of  the  work  of  the  Welfare  Council  as  a  whole 
and  the  ultimate  responsibility  as  to  its  development, 
as  well  as  its  general  policy  and  action.  Reverend 
John  J.  Burke,  C.  S.  P.,  Editor  of  the  Catholic  World 
Magazine,  as  General  Secretary  of  the  Welfare 
Council,  acts  as  the  personal 
representative  of  Archbishop 
Hanna,  Chairman  of  the  Coun- 
cil's Administrative  Committee, 
at  the  National  Headquarters, 
1312  Massachusetts  Avenue, 
Washington,  D.  C,  and  is  directly 
in  charge  of  the  Executive  De- 
partment of  the  Council.  Father 
Burke's  large  and  successful 
experience  as  Chairman  of  the 
Committee  on  Special  War 
Activities  of  the  National  Catho- 
lic War  Council,  has  eminently 
fitted  him  for  this  responsible 
task. 


Bishop  of  Rockford 
Chairman  Dept.  of  Social  Ac 


^^./HE  Executive  Department 
V/  J  keeps  in  personal  touch 
with  the  officials  of  the 
Government.  It  is  a  medium  of 
communication,  of  information, 
and  of  action  between  these 
officials  and  departments  of 
the  government  on  all  matters 
that  affect  Catholic  interests  and  Catholic  rights. 
It  is  a  medium  of  information  to  legislators, 
national  or  state,  and  to  others  who  wish  to  inform 
themselves  as  to  the  Catholic  attitude  on  matters 
of  Catholic  interest.  For  instance,  the  Executive 
Department  made  known  to  President  Harding  the 
Catholic  position  on  education;  it  presented  to  him 
information  on  Catholic  affairs  in  the  Philippines. 
To  the  President  personally  was  presented  the  pro- 
nouncements on  disarmament  issued  by  the  Admin- 
istrative Committee  of  Bishops.  The  Executive 
Department  dealt  directly  with  the  Secretary  of 
the  Navy  in  regard  to  Catholic  missionary  work  in 
Haiti  and  obtained  the  approbation  of  that  official 


*P-b  UiuUiMV 


for  Catholic  work  on  that  island.  It  also  negotiated 
with  the  Treasury  Department  and  with  the  Attorney 
General  and  obtained  satisfactory  regulations  govern- 
ing the  distribution  of  sacramental  wine.  Catholic 
interests  were  also  protected  through  the  activty 
of  the  Executive  Department  in  the  tariff 
and  immigration  legislation  enacted  by  the  last 
Congress. 

The  department  secured  from  the  State  Depart- 
ment passports  for  members  of  religious  communi- 
ties and  others  who  desired  to  travel  in  countries 
with  which  at  the  time  we  were  technically  at  war. 
The  privilege  of  consecraton  of 
the  graves  of  Catholic  dead  of 
the  World  War  buried  in 
foreign  lands  was  received  from 
the  Secretary  of  War.  The 
department  secured  Catholic 
representation  on  the  govern- 
ment committee  supervising  the 
burial  of  the  American  dead  in 
Arlington  Cemetery.  A  number 
of  important  conferences  were 
held  by  the  department  with  the 
Secretary  of  War  on  conditions 
in  the  Canal  Zone,  where  the 
Council  maintains  a  large  wel- 
fare house  that  aids  materially 
the  Catholics  of  the  Zone  and 
the  Republic  of  Panama. 


© 


HE  care  of  the  Catholic 
immigrant  has  been  the 
special  charge  of  the 
Executive  Department.  Before 
the  present  immigration  law 
went  into  effect,  60  per  cent  of 
those  entering  the  country  through  Ellis  Island  were 
Catholics.  Realizing  that  immigration  work  to  be 
efficient  must  be  national,  the  Executive  Depart- 
ment secured  official  recognition  of  the  N.  C.  W.  C. 
by  the  United  States  Government  as  a  national 
agency  in  immigration  work  with  the  right  to  have 
its  own  workers  in  every  port  of  entry.  The 
executive  Department  created  at  its  national  head- 
quarters a  central  immigration  bureau  in  charge 
of  an  experienced  director  and  has  already  opened 
up  branch  offices  in  the  ports  of  New  York,  Boston, 
Philadelphia   and   elsewhere. 

The  governmental  recognition  of  the  N.  C.  W. 
C.  as  a  national  immigration  organization  will  not 


THE  t  SIG 


N 


only  enable  us  to  keep  statistics  of  Catholic  immi- 
grants, to  assist  and  protect  them,  but  it  will  also 
promote,  and  has  in  a  measure  already  done  so, 
closer  international  relations  between  Catholics, 
secure  a  kindlier  treatment  of  them  in  foreign  ports, 
and  lead  the  foreign  born  here  to  realize  more 
deeply  their  indebtedness  to  the  Catholic  Church. 
This  national  immigrant  work  brings  the  service  of 
Catholic  men  and  women  in  touch  with  high  officials 
and  gives  the  former  a  vantage-point  for  wider 
public  influence  and  activity. 

BT  the  request  of  the  late  
Holy  Father,  Pope 
Benedict  XV,  the  Execu- 
tive Department  has  lent 
the  aid  of  its  Immigration 
Bureau  to  the  Italian  emigrant 
work.  This  latter  field  has 
recently  been  reorganized  and 
a  Bishop,  the  Right  Reverend 
Monsignor  Michele  Cerrati,  has 
been  delegrated  to  direct  and 
care  for  it. 

The  Executive  Department 
has  also  extended  its  immigra- 
tion work  to  the  care  of  the 
Philippine  students,  thousands 
of  whom  come  to  this  country 
for  their  higher  education.  In 
many  cases,  they  have  been 
led  into  neglect  of  their  faith 
through  being  cared  for  by 
Protestant  organizations.  It 
would  take  too  long  to  rehearse 
here  even  a  summary  of  the 
matter.  The  N.  C.  W.  C.  has  established  offices 
with  trained  workers,  speaking  Spanish,  at  San 
Francisco  and  Seattle;  and  is  in  touch  with  the 
ecclesiastical  authorities  in  the  Philippines,  and 
there  is  good  prospect  that  we  will  thus  preserve 
the  faith  of  many. 

The  Executive  Department  has,  through  its 
Bureau  of  Motion  Pictures,  done  nation-wide  effec- 
tive work  in  preventing  increase  in  the  output  of 
indecent  pictures.  The  N.  C.  W.  C.  has  presented 
a  constructive  program  of  motion  picture  improve- 
ment which  has  elicited  commendation  from  all 
sources.  It  is  admitted  on  all  sides  that  the  Welfare 
Council  has  done  more  than  any  other  organization 
of  similar  character  in  arousing  the  consciousness 


of  the  public  to  the  indecency  of  the  films  and  in 
getting  producers  to  agree  to  a  housecleaning 
standard  which  would  eliminate  filth  from  the  screen. 
The  Council's  Motion  Picture  Department  is  planning 
more  constructive  and  effective  work  in  this  direction 
during  the  coming  year. 

Successful  opposition  has  been  exerted  during 
the  past  year  to  agitation  for  repeal  of  the  law 
forbidding  the  transmission  through  the  mails  of 
literature  on  birth  control.  The  N.  C.  W.  C.  aided 
successfully  in  bringing  about  the  defeat  of  the 
Smith-Towner  Bill  and  the  move  to  reduce  the 
quota  of  Catholic  chaplains  in 
the  Army  and  Navy.  The 
Council  supported  the  Shep- 
pard-Towner  Bill  and  aided  in 
its  passage  through  the  last 
Congress. 


Bishop   of   Portland 
M ember    Administrative    Committee 


n 


ISTORICAL  records  of 
the  Catholic  body  during 
the  late  war  are  being 
gathered  and  kept  by  the 
Executive  Department.  The 
fatality  records  gathered  to  date 
by  this  department  show  that 
16  per  cent  of  the  loss  among 
Americans,  wherever  stationed, 
during  the  period  of  the  war, 
was  by  members  of  the  Catholic 
faith.  The  historical  materials 
housed  in  permanent  files  fill 
over  12,000  cubic  feet  of  file 
area.  A  '  force  of  14  trained 
workers  is  engaged  in  the  work 
of  this  most  important  depart- 
ment, whose  findings  will  have  a  most  important 
bearing  upon  the  future  histories  dealing  with  the 
Church  of  American  Catholicism. 

Since  the  establishment  of  the  Welfare  Council 
and  the  consequent  expression  of  unified  Catholic 
opinion  much  legislation  harmful  to  the  Catholic 
cause  has  already  been  prevented.  Present  pro- 
moters of  legislation  are  not  confining  themselves  as 
formerly  to  economic  and  industrial  questions;  they 
are  pressing  legislation  of  a  paternalistic  nature  in 
matters  of  education,  morals  and  family  life  that 
directly  and  fundamentally  affects  the  spiritual  and 
religious  life  of  the  people  as  well.  Only  through 
constant  vigilance  can  continued  success  be  obtained. 


Current   Fact   and   Comment 


HOMES,    FORSOOTH! 


Q  LARGE  insurance  company  offers  to  finance 
the  building  of  45,000  four-room  apartments 
for  working  class  tenants.     Whoever  appor- 
tioned   such    a    living   space    to    a    working   man's 
family  either  has  no  conception  of  what  a  home  is, 
or  is  deliberately  co-operating  with  the  birth-  con- 


trollers. Others  than  the  deserving  working  man 
will  quickly  seize  upon  these  snug  quarters.  The 
measure  gains  favor  daily.  It  is  not  to  late  to  urge 
that  it  be  readjusted  to  the  accomodation  of 
families  of  the  class  needing  relief,  but  under 
practical,  humane  and  decent  conditions. 


EVERY  DAY 

^^^HE  liturgical  name  of  our  week  day  is  feria. 
V_J  Feria  is  Latin  for  festival.  It  was  Pope 
Sylvester  in  the  fourth  century  who,  retain- 
ing the  term  Sabbatum  for  Saturday  and  Dominica 
for  Sunday,  ordained  that  our  Monday  should  be 
termed  feria  secunda  and  thus  the  other  week  days 
in  order.  The  Pontiff's  purpose  was  to  remind  the 
clergy  that,  casting  aside  all  care  of  worldly  affairs, 
they  should  be  free  to  devote  themselves  to  the 
service   of   God   alone. 

The  laity  also  should  be  inspired  by  the  spirit 
and  motive  of  this  regulation.  No  one  should  be 
so  deeply  engrossed  in  necessary  business  or  family 
affairs  or  legitimate  pleasures  as  to  allow  the  entire 


A   FESTIVAL 

day  to  pass  without  recalling  that  God  supports 
him  the  whole  day  long  and  without,  at  intervals, 
addressing  to  God  some  brief  affectionate  prayer. 
De  Maumigny  supplies  this  comparison:  "A  son, 
really  worthy  of  the  name,  is  not  satisfied  with 
seeing  his  father  at  meals  taken  with  the  rest  of 
the  family,  and  the  short  time  passed  together  after- 
wards, but  profits,  moreover,  of  the  hundred  oppor- 
tunities offered  during  the  day  of  showing  his  love 
and  respect  for  his  father.  The  soul  which  limits 
itself  to  holding  converse  with  God  during  morning 
prayer,  and  omits  to  speak  to  Him  during  the  day, 
will  never  attain  to  familiarity  with  God." 


AMERICAN   PROSELYTIZERS   IN 


ONE  of  the  last  acts  of  the  lately  lamented 
Holy  Father  was  a  very  direct  condemnation 
of  the  proselyizing  activities  of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
That  this  condemnation  was  justifiable  is  evidenced 
in  the  reports  of  correspondents  from  countries 
where  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  and  other  sectarians  are 
taking  advantage  of  the  distress  consequent  upon 
the  war.  Cardinal  Piffl  warns  that  this  propaganda 
is  spread  through  every  district  of  Vienna  and  that 
it  includes  not  only  the  barter  of  souls  for  victuals 
and  clothing  but  also  the  undermining  of  faith 
through   insidious   interpretation   of   the   Scriptures. 


EUROPE 

He  exclaims:  "Who  would  have  the  hardihood  to 
believe  that  God's  mercy  would  permit  humanity  to 
remain  for  eighteen  years  in  error  until  a  man  from 
America  or  England  turned  up  to  bring  the  truth?" 
The  prospective  emigrant  is  singled  out,  taken  in 
hand  and  cajoled  before  he  departs  and  provided 
with  introductions  to  charming  agents  who  meet 
him  at  the  port  of  landing  and  at  his  final  destination. 
Steps  have  been  taken  to  institute  a  definitely 
organized  campaign  to  counteract  the  loss  to  the 
Faith  threatening  through  this  latter  system. 


XN  the  midst  of  our  own  difficulties  inseparable 
from  the  high  cost  of  living,  the  scarcity  of 
employment  and  general  industrial  dissatis- 
faction, an  appeal  comes  to  us  from  Austria  which 
is  simply  heart-rending.  The  Board  of  Health  of 
Vienna  states  that  96  per  cent  of  the  Austrian 
children  are  undernourished,  tubercular  or  in  immedi- 


THE  CRY  OF  THE  CHILDREN 

ate  danger  of  this  dread  disease.  A  physician 
writes:  "We  operate  in  a  room  scarcely  heated;  to 
provide  heat  for  the  sick-wards  is  out  of  the 
question.     The  food  which  we  give  our  patients  is 

only  half-cooked  and  altogether  insufficient 

When  will  God  have  pity  on  us  and  deliver  us  from 
all  these  woes." 


THE  1*  SIGN 


These  Austrian  children  are  our  brethren  in  the 
flesh;  they  are  also  our  brethren  in  religion.  Non- 
Catholics  are  showing  a  splendid  interest  in  the 
welfare  of  these  poor  of  Christ.  We  Catholics 
should  not  be  outdone  by  the  outsider  in  this  great 
time  of  a  nation's  pitiful  distress.  Remember 
Christ's  appeal:  'As  long  as  ye  did  it  to  the  least 


of  my  brethren  ye  did  it  unto  me." 

The  small  sum  of  two  dollars  will  keep  a  human 
being  from  starvation  for  two  months.  Give  the 
two  dollars  if  you  can.  No  offering  is  too  small. 
Send  all  donations  for  the  starving  children  of 
Austria  to  Rev.  John  Egger,  165  East  88  St.,  New 
York  City. 


FEDERATION   OF  COLLEGE  CATHOLIC  CLUBS 

EORTY  thousand  Catholic  students  attend  the 
non-Catholic  institutions  of  learning  in  this 


country:  twice  as  many  as  attend  Catholic 
institutions  of  the  same  grade.  These  startling 
figures  reveal  what  a  proportion  of  our  youth  are 
being  educated  in  a  positively  irreligious  atmosphere. 
Long  ago  measures  to  counteract  the  evil  influences 
resulted  in  the  formation  of  Catholic  clubs  in  con- 
nection with  nearly  one  hundred  non-Catholic  col- 
leges and  universities.  It  was  recognized  that  these 
would  derive  added  efficiency  through  a  united 
national  organization.  Hence  the  Federation  of 
Catholic  Clubs  was  established  in  1915.  It  aims  not 
only  to  federate  but  also  to  encourage  organization. 
Its  success  is  indicated  in  a  contemporaneous  state- 

THE   BALKY 

QLTIMATELY  will  navigation  of  the  air  be 
made  safe?  Experiments  with  two  enormous 
dirigibles,  embodying  the  latest  features  of 
stability  in  structure  and  security  of  control,  resulted 
in  their  very  sudden  destruction  and  the  loss  of 
eighty  lives,  mostly  officers.  Any  one  might  be 
acquitted  of  superstition  if,  standing  by  such  a  ruin, 
he  fancied  the  Almighty  resenting  man  leaving  their 
proper  terrestial  plane,  especially  if  one  harked 
back  to  a  somewhat  similar  catastrophe  at  Babel, 
concerning  which  the  Bible  makes  the  rather  naive 
statement:  "The  Lord  came  down  to  see  what  the 


ment  showing  that  in  the  East  it  now  embraces  forty 
clubs,  is  about  to  federate  twelve  more,  and  is 
organizing  fifteen  others.  Last  year  it  began  to 
organize  and  federate  the  middle  and  far  West. 
The  Federation  has  secured  Catholic  faculty  mem- 
bers and  priests  to  teach  the  truths  of  the  Catechism, 
of  the  Bible,  of  sacred  history,  of  Catholic  philoso- 
phy and  sociology.  With  the  sanction  of  the 
hierarchy  and  under  the  direction  of  its  zealous 
and  disinterested  officers  the  federation  is  supplying 
a  vital  need  for  many  who  would  otherwise  enter 
the  arena  of  life  without  a  due  appreciation  of 
the  truths  of  their  faith  and  a  corresponding  con- 
cern regarding  virtue  and  morality. 

DIRIGIBLES 

children  of  men  were  doing."  The  Washington 
Conference  did  not  disarm  the  nations  of  their 
aerial  fighting  forces.  It  would  be  hazardous,  there- 
fore, for  this  country  not  to  keep  pace  with  other 
nations  in  their  development  of  this  department 
with  all  its  frightful  offensive  potentialities.  With 
only  the  defense  of  the  country  in  mind,  it  is 
gratifying  to  learn  that  others  are  ready  to  take  the 
places  of  the  lamented  victims,  and  with  the  simple 
comment  on  the  disaster:  "It  is  merely  a  part  of 
the  day's  work,"  are  applying  themselves  to.  the 
mastery  of  this  arm  of  the  service. 


APPLIED  COMMUNISM 


COMMUNISM  rejects  the  supernatural  motive 
in  its  ethical  system.  When  we  consider  the 
natural  motives  substituted,  we  ask  how  the 
wildest  dreamer  could  hope  for  stability  from  them. 
For  example,  in  order  to  carry  out  the  dole  or  dis- 
tributive principle  of  Communism,  natural  honesty 
would  be  absolutely  indispensible.  How  is  this 
working  out  in  Russia  where  the  system  has  been 
on  trail?  From  Le  Figaro  we  learn  that  the  Bol- 
sheviki  not  only  favored  matrimony  but  decided  to 


encourage  it  with  material  premiums  from  the  public 
stores.  Now  when  a  woman  discovers  that  her 
shoes  no  longer  keep  out  the  snow  she  asks  some 
man  friend  to  help  her  get  a  pair  from  the  govern- 
ment. A  perfunctory  marriage  ceremony  is  per- 
formed, the  shoes  are  obtained,  and  then  the  couple 
go  their  separate  ways.  A  shrewd  physician,  a 
bachelor  with  a  hearty  appetite  and  small  income, 
induced  the  president  of  the  House  Committee 
where  he  resided  to  give  him  a  certificate  saying  he 


THE  1*  SIGN 


was  married.  As  a  result  he  procured  a  double 
ration.  Soon  his  imaginary  wife  fell  ill  and  this 
entitled  him  to  a  milk  card.  Later  a  baby  came  to 
bless  this  fictitious  union,  and  on  the  strength  of 
this  there  was  a  dole  of  additional  delicacies.  Un- 
fortunately he  became  reckless  about  his  dates  and 


announced  the  arrival  of  three  children  within  six 
months.  An  investigation  was  started,  whereupon 
an  epidemic  broke  out  in  his  family,  which,  inside 
of  two  days,  carried  off  his  wife,  two  daughters 
and  little  boy.  It  was  a  dreadful  massacre  on  paper 
but  it  served  to  let  the  physician  off  undetected. 


THE   K.  OF  C.   PLAN   FOR  THE 

^.'HE  plan  that  has  proven  successful  in  San 
V_J  Francisco,  has  been  to  invite  all  the  Catholic 
Societies,  including  parish  organizations, 
sodalities,  etc.,  to  delegate  some  of  their  members 
to  act  as  general  committee.  This  committee  should 
select  as  its  head,  a  prominent  Catholic  layman. 
Each  organization  contributes  a  small  sum  to  pay 
for  postage,  printing  or  circulars,  display  cards,  etc. 
Small  circulars  are  distributed  throughout  all  the 
Churches  of  the  city,  and  communications  are  mailed 
to  employers  of  labor,  professional  men  and  women, 
theatrical  and  amusement  people  and  various  civic 
organizations,  requesting  that  only  urgent  business 


OBSERVANCE   OF  GOOD   FRIDAY 

be  transacted  during  the  hours  mentioned  and  that 
those  in  their  employ  who  wish  to  do  so,  may  be 
allowed  the  privilege  of  absenting  themselves  from 
their  work  during  these  hours.  The  public  at  large 
is  requested  to  co-operate  by  attending  the  Church 
cervices,  and  postpone  all  business  or  pleasure  until 
after  3  P.  M.  on  this  day. 

Cards  are  printed,  which  are  distributed  among 
the  stores,  and  placed  in  the  windows,  stating  that 
the  store  will  close  between  the  hours  of  12  and 
3  o'clock.  This,  of  course,  is  optional  with  the 
proprietors  of  such  establishments. 


GOOD   FRIDAY   THROUGHOUT   THE   YEAR 


•^VNCOURAGED  by  the  wonderful  success  at- 
\"~J  tained  by  the  Reverent  Observance  of  Good 
Friday  in  San  Francisco,  the  Knights  of  Co- 
lumbus have  undertaken  to  spread  the  movement 
throughout  the  country. 

A  frank  appeal  is  made  to  every  sort  of 
Christian  that  he  devote  at  least  the  Three  Hours 
to  prayer  and  meditation  upon  the  Passion  and 
Death  of  Christ. 

It  is  easy  to  visualize  gratifying  and  far-reach- 
ng  effects  attending  this  heaven-inspired  movement, 
in  particular  the  reestablishment  of  the  claims  of 
the  Redeemer  upon  the  affections  of  multitudes. 

There  has  been  too  much  of  the  mere  toleration 
of  Jesus  Christ. 

On  this  occasion  many,  yielding  to  the  reason- 
able plea,  will  have  their  first  experience  in  overtly 
professing  themselves  on  the  side  of  Christ,  and 
their  first  delightful  realization  of  the  propriety 
of  it. 

And  to  many  others,  who  have  professed  the 
Saviour  only  in  their  formal  credos,  will  come  the 
woeful  conviction,  that  He  had  not  been  a  reality  to 
them  at  all,  that  the  idea  of  Him  had  become 
diluted  almost  to  a  non-entity. 

How  many  have  given  him  wine,  and  myrrh 
willing  to  cast  a  spell  upon  Him  that  He  might  not 


see  their  guilt! 

We  want  to  halt  this  drifting  away  from  the 
Ages  of  Faith  when  the  Cross  of  Christ  was  em- 
blazoned on  banners,  carved  on  the  coins,  exalted 
on  the  highways  and  worn  by  noble  and  peasant 
as  their  most  precious  ornament. 

This  call  to  honor  the  Savior  will  bring  the 
startling  REALIZATION   to  many  that:— 

If  Herod  feared  Him  as  a  Babe  in  His  Mother's 

arms,  we   should   fear  Him  seated  at  the 

right  hand  of  His  Father. 
When  hi  stood  meek  and  forsaken  before  Pilate, 

the  creature  was  judging  the  Creator. 
Those    were    blessed    who    went    down    from 

Calvary  proclaimng :  "Truly  this  was  the 

Son  of  God!" 

To  be  culpable  it  is  not  required  that  you 
oppose  Him;  mere  neutrality  condemns  you:  "He 
who  is  not  with  Me  is  against  Me." 

Not  as  a  being  from  the  distant  past,  vaguely 
defined  by  the  scant  evidences  of  geology,  does  the 
Church  present  Him  to  us,  but  as  the  undying 
Christ  of  the  closely  linked  tradition  of  these  brief 
twenty  centuries! 

"Take  Good  Friday  with  you  through  the  year, 
And  sweeten  it  with  all  the  other  days." 


The   Sign   of  trie   Cross 

II — Its  Form  and  Its  Historp 
Hubert  Cunningham,  C.  P. 


"^^^^HERE  is  a  great  variety  of  words  used  in 
#  Cj  making  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  so  it  is 
^^^^  practiced  in  many  different  ways.  The 
most  familiar  of  these  is  that  which  we 
make  upon  ourselves  from  the  forehead  to  the  breast 
and  from  shoulder  to  shoulder;  the  second  is  made 
in  the  air  and  the  third  is  made  smaller  and  with 
the  thumb.  The  first  mentioned  is  used  by  christians 
as  called  for  by  the  laws  of  the  Church  on  many 
and  different  occasions  and  is  so  well  known  that 
nothing  of  explanation  need  be  said.  There  is 
a  remarkable  difference  between  our  practice  and 
that  of  Catholics  of  the  Greek  rite.  We  trace  the 
lines  from  the  forehead  to  the  breast  then  from 
the  left  to  the  right  shoulder;  the  Greeks  reverse 
the  second  motion  and  make  it  from  the  right  to 
the  left  shoulder.  The  sign  is  made  in  the  air  only, 
with  an  exception  to  be  mentioned  later  on,  to  impart 
a  blessing  on  man  or  thing  or  to  direct  confusion  on 
the  wicked  spirits.  The  thumb  cross,  so  called 
because  it  is  made  with  the  thumb,  is  a  little  and 
unobtrusive  practice  but  it  occurs  very  frequently. 
The  priest  makes  it  over  his  heart  during  the  divine 
office,  it  is  made  on  the  lips  at  the  prayer  "Oh, 
Lord,  open  Thou  my  lips  and  my  tongue  shall 
declare  Thy  praise."  The  thumb  cross  is  made  for 
all  anointings  of  the  child  in  baptism,  of  the  sick  in 
Extreme  Unction,  on  the  forehead  in  Confirmation; 
the  bishop  the  priest,  the  sacred  vessels  and  altars 
and  churches  are  all  consecrated  by  the  thumb  cross. 
These  uses  of  the  thumb  cross  are  familiar  but 
there  are  three  others,  varieties  of  that  same  thumb 
cross,  which  are  not  so  obvious  but  full  of  the  spirit 
of  christian  love.  In  the  first  the  thumb  cross  is 
made  upon  some  object  and  then  kissed;  for 
example,  the  laity,  after  the  gospel  of  the  Mass, 
marked  a  cross  on  the  book  they  held  in  their  hands, 
on  the  kneeling  bench  before  them,  on  the  wall 
nearby  or  on  the  floor  and  then  kissed  that  sign. 
This  practice  is  still  followed  by  our  older  Irish 
people  to  whom  we  of  the  United  States  are  indebted 
for  so  many  ancient  religious  practices.  The  only 
instance  of  this  that  is  still  retained  in  the  rubrics 
is  the  practice  of  kissing,  after  the  gospel  the  cross 
which  the  priest  makes  on  the  missal   before  he 


begins  the  gospel.  A  second  very  touching  example 
of  the  thumb  cross  is  that  of  simply  placing  the 
thumb  across  the  index  finger  and  then  kissing  the 
cross  so  formed.  This  is  a  very  ancient  practice  and 
it  is  pleasing  to  know  that  it  lives  to-day  among 
the  Catholics  of  Spain  and  throughout  the  Spanish- 
American  colonies  in  all  its  primitive  freshness. 
In  conjunction  with  our  own  familiar  sign  of  the 
cross  and  the  thumb  crosses  just  mentioned  and 
adding  besides  to  our  common  form  of  words  a  set 
of  words  peculiar  to  the  Spaniards  it  makes  the 
most  elaborate  of  all  the  known  practices  of  this 
devotion.  Here  is  a  description  of  it: — With  the 
thumb  over  the  index  finger  a  cross  is  made  on  the 
forenead,  one  over  the  lips  and  another  over  the 
heart,  and  immediately  the  sign  is  made  as  we  are 
accustomed  to  make  it — from  the  fore  head  to  the 
breast  and  from  shoulder  to  shoulder.  Beautiful 
words  are  joined  with  these  actions  thus : — "By  the 
sign  of  the  holy  cross  (Forehead I  from  all  our 
enemies  (Lips)  deliver  us,  Oh,  Lord,  (Heart)  in 
the  Name  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son  and  of  the 
Holy  Ghost."  (Forehead,  Breast  and  Shoulders). 
All  through  these  devout  actions  the  thumb  and 
index  finger  are  kept  crossed  and  at  the  "Amen"  the 
thumb  is  kissed — for  there  is  the  cross! 

XN  the  beginning  of  this  article  it  was  said  that 
the  sign  of  the  cross  is  made  in  the  air  only 
as  a  blessing  but  to  this  rule  there  is  one 
very  notable  exception  and  that  is  a  thumb  cross 
made  in  the  air  to  which  is  bent  a  devout  knee. 
All  have  seen  this  practice  though  all  may  not  have 
understood  and  interpreted  it  aright.  It  has  most 
likely  been  observed  in  those  from  foreign  shores 
as  they  took  the  holy  water  at  the  church  door. 
These  people  not  merely  sprinkle  themselves  but 
they  make  some  sign  in  the  air  and  courtesy  the 
while.  What  is  the  sign?  Why  the  courtesy?  It 
is  the  sign  of  the  cross  thumb-traced  in  the  air  and 
to  that  symbol  they  reverently  bend  the  knee.  An 
ingenious  devisement  of  faith  and  holy  love,  indeed! 
The  law  of  necessity  is  the  mother  of  this 
practice,  and  that  thought  must  be  expressed  if  we 
are  to  get  any  true  idea  of  the  origin  of  this  very 


THE  +  SIGN 


touching  devotion.  It  is  found  among  the  simple- 
minded,  the  rustic,  the  poor  and  the  remote.  It  is 
common  in  Italy,  in  Newfoundland  and  among  the 
poor  of  the  West  of  Ireland  and  others  who  were 
similarly  situated  and  restrained.  They  have  not 
the  means  to  supply  themselves  with  the  Holy 
Crucifix  nor  the  conveniences  to  indulge  their  tender 
love  for  Jesus  Crucified.  No,  but  they  know  from 
the  instincts  of  their  faith  and  from  age-worn 
example  how  to  supply  that  want,  so  there  above 
them  in  God's  free  air  they  trace  the  symbol  of  the 
Suffering  God,  their  upturned  eyes  are  bright  with 
faith  and  love  and  warm  devotion  and  they  can  see 
that  aerial  emblem  as  only  the  simple  and  the  clean 
of  heart  can  ever  see  the  supernatural,  and  spontane- 
ously their  humble  knees  bend  in  adoration,  sweet 
and  fervent,  before  that  vision  of  their  Crucified 
Saviour.  It  is  an  artless  product  of  devotion,  power- 
ful and  pent  up,  the  child  of  a  necessity  which  must 
find  expression,  but  which  cannot  speak  better. 

XT  is  comforting  to  see  the  crowds  of  American 
Catholics  who  make  the  Stations  of  the  Cross 
each  day  in  our  churches  but  it  is  better  still 
to  see  the  remote  rustic  in  the  bogs  of  Ireland,  on 
the  mountain  sides  of  the  Abruzzi  or  in  the  ice- 
clogged  outports  of  the  arctic  stream  or  tossing  on 
its  waters  bend  the  knee  of  his  worship  to  the  cross- 
lines  which  he  had  traced  perforce  on  the  air.  To 
see  the  dense  masses  crowding  to  the  adoration  of 
the  Good  Friday  Cross  is  an  inspiring  sight  and  we 
thank  God  that  they  are  enjoying  the  happy  freedom 
and  have  the  conveniences  to  do  these  things.  But 
they  have  the  freedom  and  they  have  the  cross  to 
kiss.  It  is  a  spectacle  more  inspiring  still  to  look 
down  into  the  Mamentine  prison — that  hole  there 
in  Rome  dug  out  of  the  solid  rock  and  void  of  the 
light  of  day — and  see  the  chained  martyrs  there 
raise  their  manacled  hands  and  kiss  their  own-made 
thumb  cross.  All  good  Catholics  have  been  moved 
while  reading  the  lives  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Desert 
and  visiting  those  caves  and  sand  dunes  of  the 
Thebaid  to  see  those  holy  anchorites  withering 
away  in  hungry  adoration  before  two  crossed  sticks. 
But  these  had  at  least  the  dried  sticks.  It  is  more 
wonderful  still  to  see  St.  Ignatius  Martyr  bound  with 
his  "ten  leopards"  or  the  Apostle  St.  Paul  chained 
below  decks,  rise  in  their  shackles  and  bend  the 
knee  of  their  reverence  to  the  thumb  cross  they 
have  traced  on  the  fetid  air. 


^^=^HE  history  of  the  sign  of  the  cross  takes  us 
V^  J  far  back  into  christian  years.  This  is  very 
well  known  of  the  sign  which  we  make  up 
ourselves,  it  is  well  known  of  the  benediction  which 
the  bishop  makes  upon  others.  Not  so  much  seems 
to  be  known  by  the  laity  in  general,  of  the  little 
thumb  cross  about  which  this  article  is,  in  the 
main,  concerned.  It  might  reasonbly  be  asked  why 
this  is  chosen  among  all  the  other  forms  of  making 
the  sign  of  salvation?  There  are  many  reasons 
which  make  it  specially  interesting  but  it  is  chosen 
here  simply  because  it  is  the  first,  the  most  ancient 
of  all  of  them.  This  little  act  of  piety  is  the  root 
from  which  all  others  of  its  kind  have  sprung.  It 
goes  back  to  the  days  of  the  early  christians,  back 
to  the  apostles — to  Christ  Himself. 

It  is  quite  remarkable  that  such  a  thing  as  this 
could  be  reliably  traced  so  very  far  back  through 
the  years,  and  yet  it  is  true  and  its  evidences  are 
plentiful.  It  was  only  later,  in  the  days  of  early 
monasticism,  that  this  little  sign  grew  up,  as  it 
were,  and  passed  into  the  gesture  of  benediction. 
It  is  not  till  later  still,  and  many  years,  that  there 
appears  any  evidence  of  the  sign  of  the  cross  made 
in  a  large  way  as  we  make  it  over  the  person  to-day 
— not  till  the  days  of  St.  Cyril  of  Jerusalem.  Beyond 
that  there  is  no  trace  of  it  and  beyond  the  second 
century  we  loose  all  the  evidences  of  the  benediction 
cross,  but  the  little  thumb  cross  is  always  to  be  seen. 

QNCIENT  records  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Desert 
tell  us,  "our  fathers  practiced  the  sign  of  the 
cross  most  frequently  and  religiously.  They 
made  it  principally  on  rising  and  retiring,  before 
their  work  and  before  their  meals,  on  going  out  and 
returning."  Scholars  glancing  at  that  language  would 
begin  to  suspect  that  the  writer  was  copying  the 
words  of  one  who  lived  long  before  the  Fathers  of 
the  Desert,  for  Tertullian,  the  great  defender  of  the 
cross  and  one  of  the  earliest  of  christian  writers 
says,  speaking  of  the  manners  and  customs  of  his 
co-religionists,  "in  all  our  comings  and  goings,  in 
bathing  and  dressing,  before  sitting  down  and  be- 
fore retiring  or  in  whatever  occupation  we  may  be 
engaged  we  mark  our  foreheads  with  the  sign  of 
the  cross."  This  is  very  impressive  testimony 
especially  when  we  remember  that  it  comes  all  the 
way  down  from  the  second  century.  But  it  is  not 
the  only  evidence  we  can  cull  from  this  writer.  He 
says  on  another  occasion  that  this  practice  of  making 
(Continued  on  page  28) 


The   Open   Door 

By  George  Henry  Waldron 


fT.  JOSEPH'S  stood  on  a  corner  where  the 
winds  from  two  streets  had  a  habit  of 
meeting  early  every  morning  to  play  tag. 
Nobody  minded  that  except  the  people 
who  had  to  wait  there  for  cars  to  take  them  out 
into  the  suburbs  to  work.  And  they  found  a  way 
out  of  the  difficulty.  The  way  led  through  the 
doors  of  St.  Joseph's,  which  the  sexton  left  unlocked 
as  he  went  in  each  morning  to  stir  up  the  fires  and 
ring  the  six  o'clock  Angelus. 

It  was  nice  and  warm  in  the  back  part  of  the 
church,  especially  near  the  radiator,  where  Jacob 
Wells,  treasurer  of  the  non-sectarian  and  quite 
non-Catholic  Religious  Alliance  had  staked  his  claim. 
Most  of  the  others  seemed  to  be  Catholics.  At  least 
they  knelt  in  pews.  Wells  saw  no  reason  for  kneel- 
ing. Not  that  he  was  disrespectful.  But  why  kneel 
when  the  big  church  was  all  still  and  nothing  going 
on? 

Accustomed  to  having  his  radiator  all  to  him- 
self in  the  darkened  church — darkened  save  for  the 
little  red  lamp  suspended  near  the  high  altar,  the 
meaning  of  which,  he  intended  some  day  to  inquire 
— Jacob  met  with  a  big  surprise  one  Monday  morn- 
ing when  he  found  the  church  lighted  and  comfort- 
ably filled.  Two  men  were  standing  near  the  place 
that  belonged  to  him. 

Outside,  the  first  real  blizzard  of  the  winter  was 
getting  under  way.  It  was  the  kind  of  a  morning 
on  which  folks,  who  do  not  have  to  rise,  stay  in  bed. 
The  congregation  present  was  composed,  with  few 
exceptions,  of  women. 

*" — tf'ACOB  recalled  the  story  of  the  mistake  a 
\V-  sexton  of  this  church  had  once  made  in  the 
ringing  of  the  bell.  The  Angelus,  it  seemed, 
had  long  served  as  an  alarm  clock  for  many  resid- 
ing within  hearing  distance.  One  night  the  good 
man  made  an  error.  It  was  only  a  difference  of  an 
hour  in  the  setting  of  his  own  alarm.  But  it  was 
sufficient  to  bring  little  groups  of  people  out  to 
crossings  and  curbs  all  the  way  along  the  street  a 
full  sixty  minutes  before  the  first  car  hove  in  sight 
the  next  morning. 

That  day  the  sexton  lost  his  standing  as  a 
citizen.     For  a  long,  long  time  people  paid  no  more 


attention  to  his  ringing  of  the  bell  than  the  scoffer 
does,  to  the  prediction  of  the  weather  bureau. 

With  that  mistake  in  mind,  Jacob  looked  at 
his  watch.  It  was  correct  as  to  time.  His  first 
impulse  was  to  leave  the  church.  Looking  towards 
the  sanctuary  he  saw  that  a  priest  was  about  to 
speak  from  the  pulpit  and  he  felt  that  the  remarks 
were  not  for  him.  His  second  thought  was,  "It  will 
do  no  harm  to  remain.  Why  go  out?"  Jacob  fol- 
lowed his  second  thought.  Doing  so,  he  heard  an 
able  expounding  of  a  Catholic  doctrine  that  he  had 
long  misunderstood. 

XT  was  in  the  car  on  the  way  to  work  that 
Wells  learned  about  the  starting  of  the  mis- 
sion at  St.  Joseph's  the  day  before.  He  was 
told  that  he  just  happened  in,  on  the  short  instruction 
that  followed  the  mass  each  morning.  He  made 
mental  note  of  the  statement  that  men  were  wel- 
come to  attend  the  masses  during  the  women's  week. 
All  that  week  he  heard  the  morning  instructions  by 
the  Missionaries.  Always  did  like  good  speaking, 
he  told  his  wife,  in  informing  her  of  the  fact. 

When  it  became  known  at  the  plant  where  he 
was  employed  that  "Old  Jake"  was  "making  the 
women's  mission,"  there  followed  a  merry  time  at 
his  expense.  As  one  of  the  men  said  "Old  Jake's" 
characteristic  was  backbone,  opposition  usually  had 
the  effect  of  making  him  more  firm.  So  the  jibes 
had  about  the  same  relative  effect  as  the  proverbial 
water  on  the  back  of  a  duck. 

HROM  only  one  source  was  the  joking  in  any 
degree  annoying.  When  young  Charley 
Burlingame,  the  assistant  bookkeeper,  and  a 
member  of  St.  Joseph's  Church,  atempted  to  poke 
fun  at  Wells  the  latter  resented  it.  He  did  not  put 
the  resentment  into  words  but  he  felt  it  none  the 
less.  His  sense  of  the  proprieties  made  it  seem 
quite  out  of  place  for  a  Catholic  to  join  in  such 
badinage.  So  he  bided  his  time  for  an  opportunity 
at  retaliation. 

It  came  the  next  Monday.  Having  occasion  to 
go  into  the  office,  he  approached  Burlingame. 

"Are  you  making,  or  are  you  going  to  make, 
the  mission?" 


THE  +  SIGN 
The   question   was   only   the    twenty-first   that 


had  been  put  to  Charley  on  the  subject.  There  had 
been  exactly  four  from  each  of  the  five  members 
of  his  family.  So  of  course  he  felt  pleased  over  the 
solicitude  expressed  by  the  pillar  of  the  Religious 
Alliance.     His  answer  indicated  his  frame  of  mind. 

CERTAIN  old  fashioned  notions  about  some  of 
the  rising  generation  did  not  help  Wells  to 
take  the  more  kindly  to  this  rebuff  from  one 
who  already  had  a  none  too  envied  place  in  his  good 
graces.  And  with  more  certitude  he  catalogued 
Burlingame  among  "the  upstarts." 

The  select  body  composing  the  upstarts  in- 
cluded those  who  cared  more,  for  spending  money 
than  for  earning  it,  and,  more  for  dress  than  was 
wise.  They  did  not  watch  the  clock  nearly  as 
closely  when  it  was  time  to  crawl  into  bed  at  night 
as  they  did  when  it  was  nearing  the  hour  for  the 
blowing  of  the  whistle  that  meant  the  quitting  of 
work  for  that  day. 

Wells  returned  to  the  attack  the  next  day  by 
asking  Burlingame  a  question  about  the  Church's 
teaching  on  a  subjest  that  had  been  discussed  at 
the  mission  that  morning. 

As  Charley,  pausing  between  the  adding  of  two 
columns  of  figures,  did  not  have  the  answer  in  just 
the  form  that  had  been  used  by  Father  Lee,  Jacob 
found  his  answer  an  additional  reason  why  Burlin- 
game ought  to  get  over  being  a  sleepyhead,  for  at 
least  one  week,  and  get  up  and  go  to  church. 

^^=^HE  colloquy  between  Wells  and  Burlingame 
^SJ  began  to  be  a  subject  of  interest  to  the  office 
force  generally.  It  was  to  accomodate  one 
of  them,  and  equally  to  please  himself,  that  Jacob 
manufactured  a  reason  for  passing  through  the 
office  an  hour  later  and  remarking  to  the  assistant 
bookkeeper  as  he  did  so,  about  having  seen  some 
other  young  fellows  of  about  his  age,  and  neighbor- 
hood, at  St.  Joseph's  that  morning. 

"For  the  love  of  Pete,  forget  it,  will  you? 
urged  Charley. 

"Maybe  if  you  went  to  bed  at  night  you  might 
be  able  to  get  up  in  the  morning." 

The  closing  door  prevented  Jacob  from  being 
injured  by  the  look  that  Burlingame  shot  at  him, 
and  from  his  receiving  the  half  dollar  that  the  office 
manager,  Miller  felt  like  handing  him  for  saying 
what  he  did. 


u 


ACOB  liked  real  oratory,  he  repeated  at  home 
and  to  himself,  as  the  reason  for  his  attending 
the  evening  service  that  night.  Then  he 
listened  to  his  good  angel  as  well  as  to  the  Miss- 
ionary and  when  he  went  home  set  his  alarm  clock 
early  enough  for  him  to  be  at  mass  next  morning. 

"It  seems  to  me  that,  after  soaking  up  the  heat 
all  season,  when  they  have  services  I  ought  to  do 
more  than  just  go  in  after  mass  is  over  and  stand 
around  to  hear  the  priest  talk,"  he  said. 

Attendance  at  the  mission  had  taken  on  a 
seriousness  that  prevented  it  from  being  made  a 
subject  of  further  humor  with  Jacob  Wells.  He 
said  no  more  to  Burlingame. 

But  his  silence  was  more  of  a  rebuke  that  day 
than  any  discourse  he  could  have  delivered.  Charley 
broached  the  subject  to  Jacob  during  the  afternoon 
and  was  surprised  to  find  that  he  was  attending 
both  the  mass  and  the  evening  services.  To  have 
a  non-Catholic  making  the  mission — as  thoroughly 
as  one  could  make  it — while  he  lay  in  bed  o' 
mornings  was  too  much. 

6VEN  the  hardest  armor  will  give  way  under 
sufficient  pressure.  Jake  Wells  was  the  pres- 
sure under  which  Burlingame's  indifference 
yielded. 

"To  tell  you  the  truth,  Jake,  you  make  me 
ashamed  of  myself.  Wish  I  had  started  at  the 
beginning." 

Jacob  Wells,  generous  of  heart,  formed  on  the 
instant  a  new  estimate  of  Burlingame.  And  forgave 
him  all. 

"Start  now.  I  dare  you  to  get  up  in  the 
morning." 

Charley  took  the  dare.  When  the  fellows  in 
the  office  heard  that  he  was  making  the  mission, 
after  all  that  had  been  said,  he  had  to  stand  a  new 
kind  of  attack. 


© 


,URLINGAME  was  the  Erst  one  in  the  office, 
morning  after  he  started  atending  mass. 
'You  know  why  Charley's  here  before  the 
janitor,   mornings,   don't   you?      He's   making   the 
women's  mission  at  St.  Joseph's  Church." 

Only  a  week  later  in  his  calculations,  Ferdinand 
Wilson  said,  but  with  poor  effect,  trying  some  of 
the  repartee  that  he  had  heard  exchanged  between 
Burlingame  and  Wells  when  the  latter  first  started 
hearing  the  instructions. 


THE  +  SIGN 


"Rave  on,  you  scatter-brain,"  came  from 
Charley. 

Just  in  time  to  hear  young  Wilson's  remark, 
Wells  entered  the  office  with  some  reports  of  the 
previous  day's  work  out  in  the  plant. 

"He  and  Jake  are  making  it — the  women's 
mission,"  continued  Wilson. 

"They're  starting  one  for  children  this  after- 
noon," said  Wells.    "You'd  better  go  down,  Wilson." 

"Good  for  you,  Jake,"  commended  Burlingame, 
under  his  breath,  "I  didn't  know  you  had  it  in  you." 

"No,"  suggested  Miller,  the  office  manager, 
who  had  no  particular  liking  for  "Ferdy"  Wilson, 
and  furthermore  was  pleased  with  anything  that 
would  get  Burlingame  in  on  time  in  the  morning. 
"Wait  till  they  start  the  infants'  class,  Wilson 
might  get  in  on  that,  provided  there's  no  brain  test." 


m 


ILSON   quieted  down,  but  not   some   of  the 
others,  for  a  period. 


Which  was  the  best  thing  that  could  have 
have  happened.  What  we  have  to  pay  for,  we 
appreciate.  Wells  and  Burlingame  were  both  a  little 
more  sensitive  than  they  would  have  admitted.  So 
the  joking  had  in  it  some  of  the  element  of  persecu- 
tion. It  had  its  due  reward.  Burlingame  stated 
frankly  that  on  the  days  he  had  forced  his  lazy 
self  to  get  up  betimes  he  had  felt  the  best  he  had 
in  months.  And  that  he  was  a  better  man  in  every 
way.  Certainly  his  disposition  improved,  which 
was  but  natural,  for  he  was  a  better  Catholic. 

And  about  Jacob  Wells?  After  the  mission 
he  still  went  into  St.  Joseph's  each  morning,  as  of 
old.  But  he  went  in  on  Sundays,  too.  And  as  he 
waited  for  the  first  car  out  every  morning  you 
would  find  him,  not  standing  in  front  of  the  radiator, 
in  the  back  part  of  the  church,  but  kneeling  with 
bowed  head  near  the  altar. 

It  was  where  he  made  his  daily  act  of  gratitude 
for  the  greatest  of  all  great  gifts — the  Faith. 


TKe    Sign    of    the    CrOSS — Continued   from  page  25 
the  little  thumb  cross  is  so  general  and  so  constant      tinctly  admits  that  it  is  not 


that  "frontem  cruris  signaculo  terimus."  Powerful 
language!  The  practice  of  making  that  little  sign 
of  the  cross  is  so  common  among  us  christians  that 
"we  rub  off,  wear  away  the  skin  from  our  foreheads" 
in  its  making. 

In  their  time  these  first  christians  had  seen  and 
heard  the  apostles  and  their  immediate  successors; 
from  the  hands  of  these  they  had  received  baptism ; 
from  their  lips  they  had  received  the  faith  and  its 
sublime  lessons  and  from  their  conduct  they  had 
learned  their  pious  practices.  This  knowledge  and 
these  holy  practices  they  made  the  rule  of  their 
lives  and  preserved  them,  faithfully  and  unmixed. 
"They  were  persevering  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
apostles  and  permitted  nothing  to  be  introduced 
except  what  had  been  from  the  apostles  handed 
down.  How  severely  true  is  this  we  see  from 
Tertullian.  In  the  authority  just  now  quoted  there 
is  a  very  striking  circumstance  in  point.  It  is  this 
— though  the  thumb  cross  is  so  general  that  it 
pervades  the  whole  life  and  the  whole  church  of 
those  earliest  christians  and  though  Tertullian  is 
writing  before  the  year  200  A  D,  he  formally  argues 
the  antiquity  of  the  practice  even  then  .     He  dis- 


matter  of  grave  obliga- 
tion but  merely  a  work  of  personal  piety  to  make 
the  sign  of  the  cross,  what  is  more  that  it  is  not 
demanded  by  the  Holy  Scriptures  but  "it  is  inherited 
from  christian  tradition  and  confirmed  in  the  church 
by  ancient  usage."  On  the  testimony  of  this  great 
scholar  and  fighter  for  the  faith  in  and  before  the 
year  200  A  D  the  holy  practice  of  making  the 
little  sign  of  the  cross  reaches  so  far  back  as  to  be 
called  ancient,  beyond  the  memory  of  living  man 
and  the  ken  of  the  most  erudite  christian  scholars! 
It  is  a  venerable  and  ancent  practice,  indeed! 

With  evidence  so  clear  and  of  such  a  character 
before  us  we  can  afford  to  ignore  the  temerity  of  any 
man  who  should  place  a  limit  of  time  to  the  beautiful 
little  act  or  attempt  to  question  the  presence  of  the 
use  of  the  shy  thumb  cross  by  St.  Ignatius  Martyr 
and  St.  Paul  the  apostle.  Rather  we  are  disposed  to 
accept,  as  of  the  best  authority  and  undoubted,  the 
statement,  that  the  great  Apostle  of  the  Cross  used 
that  sign  to  give  sight  to  a  blind  man,  that  St.  John 
made  it  upon  himself  before  dying,  and  the  teaching 
of  Monsignor  Gaume,  that  Christ  taught  it  to  the 
apostles  and  blessed  them  with  it  before  His  ascen- 
sion into  heaven. 


God's   Wonder   Book 

Marie  Ellerker,  0.  S.  D. 


VII 


ONE  of  our  first  experiences  as  a  child,  and 
one  which  continues  through  our  life,  is 
a  realization  of  the  unpleasantness  of 
things  which  last  a  long  time.  The  Church 
understands  this.  We  often  speak  of  her  as  "our 
Holy  Mother  the  Church,"  and  we  are  all,  even  the 
oldest  of  us,  just  her  children.  It  is  told  of  the 
great  Saint  Teresa,  that  when  she  lay  dying,  some- 
one thought  to  console  her  by  speaking  of  her 
wonderful  visions  and  of  the  great  things  she  had 
been  allowed  to  do  for  God.  The  Saint  made  no 
answer,  she  seemed  not  to  pay  the  slightest  heed, 
but  after  a  time  she  remarked  very  quietly :  "What 
I  thank  God  most  for  is  that  I  die  a  child  of  Holy 
Church." 

Now  one  way  in  which  the  Church's  under- 
standing of  her  children  is  shown  is  in  the  arrange- 
ment of  her  services.  In  Holy  Mass  there  is  great 
variety;  we  are  not  kept  too  long  at  the  same  thing. 
Already  we  have  had  psalm  and  hymn,  prayer  and 
reading.  The  reading,  however,  is  not  finished  with 
the  Lesson,  or  Epistle,  of  which  we  have  been 
speaking  in  our  last  article :  there  is  more  to  follow. 
So  at  this  point  there  is  a  change,  and  we  recite,  or 
sing,  the  Gradual. 

This  part  of  the  Mass  you  will  find  after  the 
Epistle  in  the  Mass  for  the  day,  and  not  in  the 
Ordinary.  It  usually  consists  of  verses  from  a 
Psalm.  In  early  times  a  whole  Psalm  was  sung, 
but  now  we  have  only  a  short  portion. 

The  Gradual  gets  its  name  from  the  Latin 
word  gradus,  "a  step,"  because  it  was  sung  from 
the  step  of  the  pulpit  from  which  the  Epistle  was 
read.  It  is  followed  by  the  Alleluia  verse,  or,  on 
some  occasions,  by  the  Tract.  These,  like  the 
Gradual,  are  generally  taken  from  the  Psalms, 
though  not  always,  as  you  will  see  if  you  look  at 
your  Mass  for  the  Dead. 

ON  five  occasions  there  is  a  poem  called  a 
Sequence  coming  here.  The  occasions  are 
Easter,  Pentecost,  Corpus  Christi,  Our  Lady's 
Sorrows,  and  the  Requiem  Mass.  Some  of  these 
you  know  quite  well :  the  Veni  Sancte  Spiritus 
(Come,  Holy  Ghost)  for  Pentecost;  the  Stabai 
Mater  (At  the  Cross  her  station  keeping)   for  Our 


Lady's  Sorrows,  which  you  are  accustomed  to  sing 
at  the  Stations  of  the  Cross. 

If  you  have  a  procession  on  Corpus  Christi, 
you  probably  know  the  Lauda  Sion,  the  hymn 
written  for  the  Mass  of  that  day  by  the  Domini- 
can St.  Thomas  Aquinas,  in  honour  of  Jesus  in  the 
Blessed  Sacrament.  In  it  he  has  managed  to  tell 
us  nearly  all  the  very  important  things  which  we 
believe  about  Him  there. 

The  other  two  Sequences  are  less  well  known. 
They  are  the  Victimae  Paschali  (To  the  Paschal 
Victim)  sung  at  Easter,  and  the  Dies  irae  (0  Day 
of  wrath),  a  poem  about  the  day  of  judgement, 
which  forms  part  of  the  Mass  for  the  Dead. 

XAM  going  to  give  you  a  translation  of  the 
Sequence  which  you  will  find  in  your  Mass 
for  Whit  Sunday.  If  you  will  read  it  slowly 
and  try  to  understand  it,  I  think  you  will  find  it  is 
a  beautiful  prayer  to  say  when  you  are  preparing 
for  Confession,  or  at  any  time  you  want  to  ask 
God's  special  help  and  guidance. 

VENI,    SANCTE    SPIRITUS 

Come,   O    Spirit,    Lord    of    grace, 
From    Thy    heavenly    dwelling-place, 
Bring  forth  light  our  gloom  to  chase. 

Come,   the   friend   of   all   brought   low, 
Fountain    whence  all   graces   flow, 
On   the   heart   Thy   love   bestow. 

Thine  to  wipe  the  bitter  tear; 
Thine  the  lonely  heart  to  cheer; 
Fainting   spirits   find  Thee  near. 

In   our   labor   Thou   art   rest; 
Tears   by  Thee  are  solaced  best; 
Raging    heat   by   Thee   refreshed. 

Come,  O  light  most  clear  and  blest, 
Come  and  fill  each  longing  breast; 
Be   Thy   people's    constant    Guest. 

If   Thy   Deity   be  hence, 

Nothing   brings   man   honor   thence, 

Nothing    is    without    offence. 

Come,    to   cleanse    the    guilty    stain, 
In   the   hardened   heart   to   reign, 
Wounds   of   sin   to   heal   again. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


To  Thy   Will   the   stubborn   mould; 
Warm   and  melt  the  bosom   cold; 
Bring   the   erring   to   the   Fold. 

Unto  us  who  seek  Thy  Face, 
And  in  Thee  reliance  place, 
Give   Thy    seven-fold   gifts    of   grace. 

Pardon   grant  if  we  offend; 
Grant  us   space  till  we  amend, 
Joy   above   that   knows   no   end. 

QEXT  comes  the  Gospel,  the  last  Lesson,  and 
the  Church  teaches  us  in  what  deep  reverence 
she  holds  God's  Holy  Word  by  the  very 
elaborate  ceremonies  with  which  she  surrounds  the 
reading  of  the  Gospel;  but  you  only  see  these  at 
High  Mass. 

A  young  artist,  a  Protestant,  spoke  to  me  once 
about  the  Bible,  and  seemed  surprised  to  find  me 
sympathetic;  she  said  she  had  always  heard  that 
Catholics  treated  it  with  a  sort  of  contempt.  My 
answer  was  to  invite  her  to  High  Mass  on  the  follow- 
ing Sunday,  and  what  she  saw  satisfied  her,  as  I 
knew  it  would.  I  would  like  you  to  pray  next  time 
you  are  at  Mass  for  those  outside  the  Church  who 
have  a  great  deal  of  love  for  the  Holy  Bible.  Ask  our 
Divine  Lord  to  give  them  the  grace  to  find  out  from 
it  which  is  the  true  religion.  In  the  Catholic  Church 
even  the  book  of  Gospels  is  shown  deep 
reverence.  Before  the  days  of  printing  the  most 
beautiful  vellum  was  always  chosen  by  the  monks 
on  which  to  write  it.  This  was  sometimes  stained 
a  delicate  color,  and  the  words  written  in  gold  and 
silver  letters.  It  was  often  bound  in  covers  of  some 
precious  metal,  and  richly  decorated  with  costly 
jewels. 

A  French  magazine,  written  by  the  Benedictine 
Fathers,  had  in  it  some  years  ago  a  most  interesting 
account  of  the  gorgeous  ceremonies,  which  show  us 
what  our  Catholic  forefathers  thought  of  the  Bible. 

On  great  feasts  it  was  left  all  day  upon  the 
altar. 

It  was  often  carried  in  procession,  and  when 
a  Bishop  visited  any  cathedral  or  monastery,  the 
book  of  the  Gospels  was  brought  to  the  door  for 
him  to  kiss. 

At  General  Councils  it  has  been  placed  on  a 
special  throne,  as  representing  better  than  picture 
or  statue  Jesus  Christ  Himself. 

If  for  some  lawful  purpose  you  are  called  upon 
to  take  an  oath,  you  will  be  given  a  Bible  to  kiss, 


and  a  convert  making  his  Profession  of  Faith  at  his 
reception  into  the  Church  does  it  with  his  hand 
upon  the  book  of  the  Gospels.  St.  Dominic  always 
carried  a  copy  of  the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew  about 
with  him  on  his  long  and  fatiguing  journeys. 

I  think  all  this  will  help  you  to  understand 
with  what  reverence  and  devotion  you  should 
hear  the  Gospel  at  Holy  Mass. 

SOU  will  find  it  in  your  Missal  in  the  part 
proper  for  the  day  and  not  in  the  Ordinary. 
At  High  Mass  you  can  see  all  the  beautiful 
ceremonies   carried   out. 

It  is  the  privilege  of  the  deacon  to  read  it. 
At  his  Ordination  the  Bishop  hands  him  the  book 
of  the  Gospels,  and  commissions  him  to  sing  the 
Gospel  in  the  Church  of  God. 

At  one  time  it  was  the  prerogative  of  the 
Emperor,  vested  in  rochet  and  stole,  to  read  the 
Gospel  on  Christmas  night.  If  any  of  you  go  to 
a  Benedictine  Abbey  church,  you  will  see  it  is  the 
Abbot  who  sings  the  Gospel  from  his  stall  at  Matins, 
vested  in  his  stole  and  assisted  by  two  acolytes. 

The  Missal  is  now  removed  to  the  north  side 
of  the  altar,  which  we  call  the  Gospel  side. 

The  deacon  at  High  Mass  takes  the  book  of 
Gospels  from  the  little  table  at  the  side  called  the 
credence  table,  lays  it  on  the  altar,  and  kneeling 
on  the  steps,  says  this  prayer,  which  at  Low  Mass 
is  said  by  the  priest  bending  down  in  the  middle 
of  the  altar,  as  he  passes  to  the  Gospel  side: 
"Cleanse  my  heart  and  my  lips,  0  Almighty  God, 
who  didst  cleanse  the  lips  of  the  Prophet  Isaias 
with  a  burning  coal ;  and  deign  through  Thy  gracious 
mercy  to  purify  me  that  I  may  worthily  announce 
Thy  holy  Gospel.  Through  Christ  Our  Lord. 
Amen." 

Then,  taking  up  the  sacred  book,  he  kneels 
before  the  priest  and  asks  his  blessing.  The  priest 
repeats  almost  the  same  words  as  the  deacon  has 
himself  said,  blesses  him,  and  lays  his  hand  on 
the  book  for  the  deacon  to  kies. 

Then  a  procession  is  formed  to  the  place  from 
which  the  Gospel  is  to  be  read,  consisting  of  the 
acolytes  with  their  lighted  candles,  the  thurifer, 
the  subdeacon,  and,  lastly,  the  deacon  carrying  the 
book. 

All  the  people  rise.  In  ancient  times  kings  and 
princes  took  off  their  crowns;  knights  drew  and 
brandished  their   swords. 


30 


^^^HE  deacon  opens  the  book  and  sings: 
V,  J  Lord  be  with  you." 

After  the  reply  he  announces  what  he  is 
about  to  read: 

"The  beginning  (or  the  continuation)  of  the 
Gospel  according  to  N."  At  the  same  time,  with 
his  thumb,  he  makes  the  sign  of  the  Cross  on  the 
book,  then  on  his  forehead,  lips,  and  heart.  The 
people  also  sign  themselves,  and  it  may  interest  you 
to  know  that  this  is  the  oldest  form  of  the  Sign  of 
the  Cross. 

The  answer  to  the  announcement  of  the  Gospel 
is:  "Glory  be  to  Thee,  O  Lord." 

Then  the  deacon  incenses  the  book  three  times, 
and  intones  the  passage  of  the  Gospel  appointed 
for  the  day.  At  the  end  is  said:  "Praise  be  to  Thee, 
0  Christ."  At  Low  Mass  it  is  the  server  who  makes 
these  answers. 

The  subdeacon  then  takes  the  book  to  the 
priest,  who  kisses  it,  saying:  "May  our  sins  be 
blotted  out  by  the  words  of  the  Gospel." 

At  one  time,  the  book  was  offered  to  everyone 
to  kiss.  While  the  choir  sang  the  Creed,  the  sub- 
deacon,  accompanied  by  the  thurifer,  presented 
it  to  each  person  in  turn. 

The  following  is  the  Gospel  appointed  to  be 
read  on  the  Feast  of  St.  Joseph  of  Calasanz : 

"At  that  time  the  disciples  came  to  Jesus 
saying:  Who  thinkest  Thou  is  the  greater  in  the 
kingdom  of  heaven?  And  Jesus,  calling  unto  Him 
a  little  child  set  him  in  the  midst  of  them  and  said : 

"Amen,  I  say  to  you,  unless  ye  be  converted 
and  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Whosoever  therefore 
shall  humble  himself  as  this  little  child,  he  is  the 
greater  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  And  he  that 
shall  receive  one  such  little  child  in  My  name 
receiveth  Me."     (St.  Matt.  XVIII.) 

VIII 

DOW  turn  back  to  your  Ordinary  of  the  Mass 
to  find  the  Nicene  Creed. 
There  are  several  Creeds  in  use  in 
the  Catholic  Church.  The  first  you  learned 
when  you  were  quite  small,  and  I  am  sure  that  you 
say  it  every  day  in  your  morning  or  night  prayers, 
or  perhaps  both.  I  mean  the  Apostles'  Creed.  One 
pretty  legend  says  that  the  twelve  articles  were 
the  work  of  the  twelve  Apostles,  one  Apostle  being 
responsible   for   each   article.     Though   this   is   not 


THE  +  SIGN 
The 


certain,  the  Creed  is  very  ancient  and  dates  from 
Apostolic  times. 

The  Creed  we  say  at  Mass  is  a  development 
of  the  Apostles'  Creed.  It  gets  its  name  of  Nicene 
from  the  town  of  Nic^a,  where  in  the  year  325 
a  General  Council  of  the  Church  was  held.  Some 
persons  had  been  teaching  wrongly  on  several 
points,  notably  concerning  the  divinity  of  our  Blessed 
Lord.  At  this  Council  they  were  condemned  and  the 
exact  teaching  of  the  Church  stated  more  plainly. 
Some  of  the  decisions  were  embodied  in  the  Creed 
which  is  now  said  at  Mass  on  Sundays,  and  some 
other  feasts. 

A  creed,  called  the  Athanasian  Creed,  is  said  by 
priests  in  that  part  of  the  Divine  Office,  called 
Prime,  on  certain   appointed   Sundays. 

There  is  still  another  creed  of  which  you  should 
know — that  of  Pope  Pius  IV,  compiled  after  the 
great  Council  of  Trent  which  condemned  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Reformers.  This  Creed  is  repeated  as 
a  Profession  of  Faith  by  converts  upon  their  recep- 
tion into  the  Church. 

The  word  Creed  comes  from  Credo  (I  believe), 
the  first  Latin  word  with  which  it  begins.  A  number 
of  prayers  have  received  their  names  in  this  way. 
I  am  sure  you  can  find  examples  of  this ;  for  instance, 
the  Magnificat  and  the  Memorare  will  at  once  come 
to  your  mind. 

XN  the  early  days  of  the  Church,  those  persons 
who  were  still  under  instruction  and  had  not 
yet  received  the  Sacrament  of  Baptism  were 
called  catechumens.  They  were  not  allowed  to  be 
present  during  the  most  solemn  parts  of  the  Mass, 
but  only  to  the  end  of  the  Creed.  Hence  the  first 
part  from  the  beginning  to  the  Creed  was  called 
the  Mass  of  the  catechumens.  At  this  point  they, 
in  company  with  those  Catholics  who  were  doing 
public  penance  for  their  sins,  had  to  leave  the 
church.  In  our  own  times  the  Church  is  more 
indulgent,  and  all,  however  unworthy,  are  allowed 
to  remain  during  the  whole  of  the  great  Sacrifice, 
and  to  join  their  worship  to  that  which  Jesus  is 
offering  to  the  Godhead  in  their  name  and  in  their 
place. 

We  always  kneel  at  the  words:  "Et  homo  factus 
est"  (And  was  made  man). 

This  is  a  little  act  of  adoration  offered  to  God 
the  Son  made  man  for  us  and  for  our  salvation. 

After  these  words  have  been  sung  at  a  High 
Mass  the   deacon  goes  to  the  credence  table   and 


THE  +  SIGN 


gets  the  burse.  He  takes  out  the  corporal  and 
spieads  it  over  the  altar  stone. 

You  should  always  join  the  Creed.  It  is  the 
Church's  own  Act  of  Faith,  as  the  Confiteor  is  her 
official  Act  of  Contrition.  By  saying  it  fervently 
you  strengthen  this  great  virtue  in  your  own  soul. 

I  believe  in  one  God,  the  Father  Almighty, 
Maker  of  heaven  and  earth,  and  of  all  things  visible 
and  invisible.  And  in  one  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  the 
only  begotten  Son  of  God,  born  of  the  Father  be- 
fore all  ages.  God  of  God;  Light  of  Light;  very 
God  of  very  God;  begotten  not  made;  being  of  one 
substance  with  the  Father,  by  whom  all  things  were 
made.  Who  for  us  men,  and  for  our  salvation, 
came  down  from  heaven,  and  was  incarnate  by 
the  Holy  Ghost  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  was  made 
man.  [Kneel  in  reverence  for  Christ's  Incarnation.'] 
He  was  crucified  also  for  us,  suffered  under  Pontius 
Pilate,  and  was  buried.  The  third  day  He  arose 
again  according  to  the  Scriptures;  and  ascended 
into  heaven,  and  sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of  the 
Father:  and  He  shall  come  again  with  glory  to 
judge  both  the  living  and  the  dead :  of  whose 
kingdom  there  shall  be  no  end. 

And  I  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Lord  and 
Life-giver,  who  proceedeth  from  the  Father  and 
the  Son;  who  together  with  the  Father  and  the  Son 
is  adored  and  glorified :  who  spoke  by  the  prophets. 
And  One  Holy  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church.  I 
confess  one  baptism  for  the  remission  of  sins.  And 
I  look  for  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the 
life  of  the  world  to  come.     Amen. 

IX 
^-— -^ITH  the  Creed  the  preparatory  part  of  the 
W I  ^  Holy    Mass    ends,    and   we    come    to   the 
y£y  Offertory. 

The  priest  turns  to  the  people  with  the 
wish  you  know  so  well : 

"Dominus  vobiscum"    (The  Lord  be  with  you). 

"Et  cum  spiritu  tuo"      (And  with  thy  spirit). 

Then  he  says:    "Oremus"    (Let  us  pray). 

But  no  prayer  follows.  In  the  early  days, 
when  the  catechumens  had  left  the  Church,  the 
people  here  were  asked  to  pray  for  a  number  of 
different  intentions.  You  will  understand  what  I 
mean  if  you  will  study  the  Good  Friday  Mass. 
You  have  in  it  a  collection  of  prayers  for  the 
Church,  the  Pope,  Bishops,  etc.  You  will  find  them 
after  the  Gospel  because  no  Creed  is  sung  on  Good 
Friday.      Probably   at   every   Mass   there   used   to 


be  a  similar  collection  of  prayers;  but  we  have  not 
got  them  now. 

Then  in  your  Mass  for  the  day  you  will  find 
an  Antiphon  called  the  Offertory.  Like  the  Introit 
and  Gradual,  about  which  we  have  already  spoken, 
this  was  originally  a  whole  psalm,  but  the  Antiphon 
alone  is  now  left. 

^^^HE  reason  for  the  whole  psalm  was  the  ancient 
V^J  custom  of  receiving  at  this  point  the  offerings 
of  the  people.  In  those  far-off  days  the 
faithful  brought  to  the  church  offerings  of  what 
was  needed,  both  for  the  service  of  the  altar  and 
for  the  support  of  the  priest.  While  these  were 
being  received  the  choir  sang  a  Psalm.  In  another 
place  I  have  spoken  of  these  offerings  as  an  expla- 
nation of  the  large  corporal  which  had  to  be  used 
in  those  days  to  cover  them. 

From  the  offerings  of  the  people  the  priest 
selected  what  was  needed  for  the  Consecration. 
The  rest  was  used,  some  for  the  support  of  the 
priests,  some  for  the  poor,  and  some  was  given  to 
those  who  were  not  receiving  Holy  Communion  as 
"blessed   bread." 

We  no  longer  make  offerings  of  bread  and 
wine,  but  it  is  at  this  part  of  the  Mass  that  the 
collection  is  taken  which  is  used  to  buy  what  is 
necessary  for  the  church  and  for  the  priest.  We 
should  count  it  among  our  privileges  to  be  allowed 
to  give.  Too  often,  alas!  it  is  looked  upon  as  an 
unpleasant  duty,  and  sometimes,  I  think,  people 
are  inclined  to  forget  that  there  is  a  Fifth  Com- 
mandment of  the  Church  which  bids  us  contribute 
to  the  support  of  our  pastors. 

There  are  three  principle  parts  of  Holy  Mass, 
and  to  miss  one  of  them  is  to  miss  Mass.  These 
are  the  Oblation,  the  Consecration,  and  the  Priest's 
Communion. 

The  Oblation  is  the  offering  up  to  God  by  the 
priest  of  the  bread  and  wine,  which  are  to  be 
changed  into  the  Body  and  Blood  of  Jesus  Christ. 
The  prayers  with  which  the  priest  accompanies  this 
Oblation  are  very  beautiful,  if  only  you  will  try 
to  undersrtand  them.  They  are  found  in  the 
Ordinary  of  the  Mass,  to  which  you  must  turn  back 
as  soon  as  you  have  read  the  Offertory. 

This  is  the  Offertory  for  the  Feast  of  the  Holy 
Name  of  Jesus :  "I  will  praise  Thee,  O  Lord  my 
God,  with  my  whole  heart,  and  glorify  Thy  name 
forever,  for  Thou,  O  Lord,  are  sweet  and  plenteous 
in  mercy  to  all  that  call  on  Thee.    Alleluia." 


THE  +  SIGN 


into  his  food  and  drink  to  make  them  bitter  or 
insipid.  He  would  kneel  upright  in  prayer  a  long 
time,  though  it  caused  him  pain.  He  deprived 
himself  of  many  things  and  deliberately  denied  his 
own  desires.  He  acquired  the  practice  of  thinking 
constantly,  of  Our  Lord's  sufferings.  The  boy  soon 
surpassed  his  saintly  mother  in  this  devotion  to 
Christ  Crucified;  and  the  records  of  his  life  attest 
that  his  father  had  to  restrain  him  in  doing  penances, 
lest  he  injure  his  health. 

As  a  youth,  he  was  accustomed  to  speak  to  his 
companions  about  the  Cross  and  Passion  of  Christ. 
With  his  brother  John,  and  another  companion  he 
often  went  to  a  little  oratory  near  his  native  place, 
and  there  so  many  people  assembled  to  listen  to 
him  describing  the  Passion  that  he  had  to  divide 
the  crowd  requiring  that  the  women  and  children 
come  in  the  morning,  and  the  men  in  the  evening. 
He  grasped  every  opportunity  to  persuade  others 
to  practice  some  act  of  piety  in  gratitude  to  Jesus 
Crucified. 

^y^HEN  he  began  to  give  missions  and  retreats, 
\\y  and  held  aloft  his  great  large  Crucifix,  the 
people  gathered  around  him  and  his  compan- 
ions, and  many  of  them  were  converted  from  a  life 
of  sin  to  holiness  and  an  ardent  love  of  the  Cross. 
With  the  blessing  and  assistance  of  Bishops  and  the 
Sovereign  Pontiffs,  he  succeeded  in  establishing  the 
Congregation  of  the  Most  Holy  Cross  and  Passion 
of  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  which  continues  his 
wonderful  work  in  many  parts  of  the  world  at  the 
present  day. 

St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  in  truth  was  an  apostle 
powerful  in  word  and  work,  and  won  innumerable 
souls  for  Christ  Crucified.  God  blessed  his  zeal, 
and  surrounded  him  in  his  declining  years  with 
saintly  men  and  with  many  rich  favors  of  the 
Church. 

Year  after  year,  the  Passion  seemed  to  become 
more  and  more  his  only  thought.  He  devoted  much 
time  to  preaching  missions  and  retreats  and  hearing 
confessions,  besides  building  up  and  directing  his 
Congregation  of  Religious,  but  it  was  all  done  to 
make  known  his  Crucified  God.  He  manifested  his 
love  for  a  crucified  life  especially  in  time  of  trial 
and  disappointment,  or  when  suffering  from  illness. 
Thus  he  passed  eighty  one  years.  His  last  act  on 
earth  was  to  kiss  and  embrace  his  Crucifix. 


(T.  PAUL  of  the  Cross,  by  right  therefore  is 
honored  as  the  patron  of  the  Archconfra- 
ternty,  because  he  spent  his  life  in  spreading 
devotion  to  the  Passion  by  his  words,  by  his 
example,  and  by  means  of  his  institute.  As  the 
purpose  of  the  society  is  to  promote  a  grateful 
remembrance  of  the  sufferings  of  Our  Lord,  much 
may  be  learned  from  the  example  and  labors  of  St. 
Paul  of  the  Cross,  and  much  may  be  gained  through 
his  powerful  intercession. 

As  patron  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the 
Passion,  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  will  obtain  many 
blessings  for  those  members  who  earnestly  strive 
to  fill  their  hearts  with  devotion  to  Our  Lord's 
Sufferings.  He  will  be  a  model  to  the  members 
in  thinking  frequently  of  the  sorrows  and  sufferings 
of  Christ.  He  will  show  them  how  to  make  of  the 
sorrows  of  life  so  many  offerings  acceptable  to  their 
Divine  Redeemer.  He  will  prove  himself  a  strong 
protector  to  the  members  in  times  of  anxiety  and 
discouragement.  They  may  feel  certain  their 
heavenly  patron  will  remember  them  day  by  day 
and  assist  them  in  all  their  undertakings. 

QS  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  was  an  unwearied 
"hunter  of  souls"  for  whom  Christ  suffered 
and  died,  the  members  of  the  society  should 
follow  his  leadership  and  seek  to  persuade  others 
to  join  the  Archconfraternity  and  much  more  to  pray 
fervently  for  the  conversion  of  sinners.  They  can- 
not ascend  the  pulpit  to  preach  Christ  Crucified,  as 
St.  Paul  did  but  they  can  offer  their  Masses,  Holy 
Communions,  Rosaries,  Visits  to  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment, and  Stations  of  the  Cross,  or  other  pious  works 
for  the  success  of  the  missions  and  retreats.  They 
will  walk  in  the  footsteps  of  the  patron  of  the  Arch- 
confraternity when  they  kneel  before  the  Crucifix 
in  fervent  prayer,  and  especially  when  they  speak 
of  it  to  others.  They  will  become  more  and  more 
like  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  by  the  efforts  they  make 
to  promote  devotion  to  the  Sacred  Passion. 

A  sure  and  excellent  way  to  honor  the  patron 
of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion,  and  to 
acquire  his  spirit,  is  to  say  some  prayer  to  him  every 
day  and  by  receiving  Holy  Communion  on  his  Feast 
Day,  April  28th.  The  numerous  miracles  and  count- 
less divine  favors  obtained  through  his  intercession 
show  that  he  rewards  those  of  the  faithful  who 
seek  his  aid.  How  much  greater  then  will  be  the 
blessings  he  will  obtain  for  his  own  children  the 
members  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion! 


The   Passionist  Missionaries   In  Japan 


XT  was  the  Vigil  of  the 
Epiphany  when  we  awoke  to 
find  ourselves  skirting  the 
coast  of  Japan,  and  within  a  few 
miles  of  the  great  sea-port  of  Yoko- 
hama. The  morning  sun  cast  its 
golden  rays  on  the  long  low  cliffs, 
which  for  mile  after  mile,  form  a 
sort  of  natural  protection  to  this 
great  country.  These  cliffs  for  the 
most  part,  were  very  sombre  to 
the  naked  eye:  brown,  dark  red 
and  grey,  with  a  dash  of  blue-green 
foliage  where  the  sun  cast  its  slant- 
ing beams  on  the  jagged  peaks. 

Quite  naturally,  the  passengers 
were  early  on  deck 
and  alert  for  the. 
first  glimpse  of  Yo- 
kohama Bay.  On 
an  exeremely  clear 
day,  we  were  told, 
an  excellent  view  of 
Fujiyama,  the 
sacred  mountain  of 
Japan  may  be  had. 
But  it  was  not  our 
good  fortune  to  en- 
joy this  privilege. 

There  was  plenty 
to    attract    our    at- 
tention, in  the  fleet 
of       small       fishing 
boats,    or    sampans, 
which     dotted     the 
surface  of  the  bay. 
Curious  little  boats 
they   were :    red    in 
color,     with      small 
square     sails     of     yellow,     dancing 
up   and  down  on  the  blue  lawn  of 
the    harbor,    their    occupants    busily 
engaged  with  their  nets  and  lines. 

Now  and  then  the  glasses  revealed 
a  small  village  hidden  away  in  some 
protecting  cove,  or  a  trim  lighthouse 
of  spotless  white,  enhanced  in  its 
beauty  by  the  silver  flash  of  a  multi- 
tude of  flying  fish  who  cavorted  in 
the  foreground.  A  little  further  on, 
we  passed  between  two  forts  guard- 
ing the  harbor  entrance.  Word  was 
now  passed  along  that  cameras  must 
be  put  away  in  order  to  avoid 
trouble  with  the  authorities. 

Soon  the  outlines  of  the  city  were 


Tkeir  Visit  And  Impressions 

marked  against  the  sky.  Large 
flocks  of  gulls  flew  out  to  greet  us, 
wheeling  around  and  above  the 
steamer,  like  those  so  familiar  in 
New  York  and  Boston  harbor. 

The  "Wenatchee"  ran  her  flags 
aloft,  signalling  for  the  port  health 
physician  to  come  aboard,  and 
release  us  from  quarantine.  Power 
was  stopped,  and  the  ship  floated 
along  lazily.  Shortly  a  small  tug 
came  along  side  and  two  dapper 
little  Japs  ran  up  the  ladder.  Effici- 
ency was  written  on  every  line  of 
their  bronzed  countenances.  Deftly 
they     called     for     the     sailing     list, 


the  Orient,  not  in  picture  or  in  print, 
but  in  actual  fact.  The  dock  was 
crowded  with  stevedores  and  rick- 
shaw men,  dressed  in  dark  blue 
jackets,  with  Japanese  symbols 
written  on  their  backs;  a  sign  of 
their  business  or  of  the  concern 
which  employed  them.  Here  and 
there  was  a  dash  of  color  where  a 
lady  filtered  in  through  the  assembly. 
Here  also,  but  few  in  number,  were 
the  Europeans  and  Americans,  an 
almost  startling  contrast  to  the 
crowd  around  them. 

Jinrickshaw  is  the  proper  name 
for  the  vehicle  which  simplifies  the 
transportation  pro- 
blem in  the  Land  of 
the  Rising  Sun. 
For  the  uninitiated 
we  shall  explain. 
The  rickshaw  is  a 
two  wheeled  carri- 
age usually  offering 
accomodations  for 
one  passenger.  In- 
to the  shafts  is 
harnessed,  not  a 
horse,  but  a  little 
brown  man,  who 
patters  over  the 
streets  of  the  city 
at  a  fast  clip  for  a 
sufficient  number  of 
sen  or  yen,  as  the 
case  may  be. 


THAT  CARRIED  THE  FIRST  EAND  OF  PASSIONIST 
MISSIONARIES    TO    CHINA! 


counted  the  passengers,  inquired  of 
the  ship's  surgeon  for  contagious 
disease,  and  quickly  made  their  de- 
parture. 

Passports  were  then  visaed  by  the 
port  authorities,  and  by  that  time 
the  "Wenatchee"  was  made  fast  to 
the   pier. 

aOKOHAMA  is  the  first  stop 
in  the  Orient,  and  one  of  the 
leading  ports  of  Japan.  Its 
business  was  founded  on  foreign 
trade,  and  now  handles  the  greater 
part  of  the  exporting  for  the  im- 
mense silk  industry  of  the  country. 
Here  we  had  our  first  glimpse  of 
36 


B 


GROUP  of 
c  h  au  f  feurs 
approac  h  e  d 
us.  With  profuse  gesture  and  a 
smattering  of  broken  English  they 
informed  us  that  the  fare  was  "one 
yen  an  hour,"  the  price  on  boat 
days.  With  a  whoop  they  ran  for 
their  carriages.  Our  guide  could 
speak  a  little  English,  and  did  his 
best  to  point  out  the  principal 
objects  of  interest.  Through  one 
narrow  street  after  another  we 
wended  our  way.  The  feeling  was 
one  of  perfect  safety,  save  when  a 
Ford,  of  which  there  are  some  few 
in  Japan,  threatened  to  annihilate 
us.  A  short  yo !  every  now  and  then 
was  enough  to  make  the  average 
pedestrian  step  sharply  aside. 


At  times  it  was  difficult  to  make 
our  way  because  of  the  children  who 
thronged  the  narrow  thoroughfares 
playing  games.  The  most  popular 
game  seemed  to  resemble  ping-pong. 
With  a  small  paddle  they  vigorously 
struck  a  small  object  covered  with 
colored  feathers,  which  twisted  and 
squirmed  through  the  air,  and 
seemed  loath  to  land  in  any  definite 
spot.  Simple  as  it  was,  it  amused 
the  little  ones.  What  more  could 
be  expected?  To  see  a  larger  girl 
darting  about  with  her  paddle,  at  the 
same  time  having  a  baby  strapped 
to  her  back,  was  not  uncommon. 
On  turning  a  corner,  we  came  upon 
two  young  men  having  a  fling  at 
the  "national  game."  An  American 
baseball  and  glove  furnished  the 
sport. 

OUR  guides  next  took  us  to  the 
great  temple  Zotoku  in.  It 
is  situated  on  one  of  the 
highest  hills  in  the  city.  Alighting 
from  our  rickshaws  at  the  base  of 
the  sacred  mountain,  we  began  the 
steep  ascent.  Landings  have  been 
erected  along  the  way,  and  booths 
were  doing  a  flourishing  trade  in 
holiday  trinkets.  On  one  of  the 
landings  was  a  large  tablet  con- 
structed of  slate,  on  which  were 
written  the  names  of  the  donors  of 
the  temple.  A  few  steps  further 
on  was  a  memorial  shaft  surmounted 
by  a  large  anchor,  erected  in  memory 
of    deceased   Japanese    sailors. 

Finally,  arrived  at  the  summit  we 
entered  the  pagan  temple.  Here  we 
beheld  the  pagans  at  their  devotions, 
paying  homage  to  their  false  gods. 
Men  and  women  would  carefully 
remove  their  wooden  sandals,  kneel 
in  adoration  for  a  few  moments.  A 
low  prostration  would  then  be  made, 
after  which  the  devotee  would  give 
three  short  claps  of  the  hand.  This 
seemed  to  be  the  highest  act  of 
worship.  The  fact  that  tourists  were 
looking  on,  did  not  disturb  or  annoy 
them.  They  were  entirely  indifferent 
to  our  presence. 

"The  idols  of  the  gentiles  are 
silver  and  gold:  the  work  of  the 
hands  of  men"  Psalm  113.  How 
pitiful  to  see  this  vast  nation  in  the 
darkness  of  idolotry !  blind  to  the 
light!  ignorant  of  the  doctrines  of 
Christ    Who    alone    can    raise    them 


THE  +  SIGN 

from  the  depths  of  pagan  supersti- 
tion !  Sad  to  say,  the  Japanese  do 
not  as  readily  accept  the  truths  of 
Christianity  as  do  the  Chinese.  The 
total  number  of  Catholic  Christians 
in  Japan  is  about  60,000.  The  people 
are  extremely  materialistic,  a  fact 
which  makes  the  progress  of  Chris- 
tainty  doubly  hard.  This  spirit  has 
been  intensified  during  the  world 
war.  Profiteering  has  become  the 
common  order  of  the  day,  whether 
one  does  business  with  the  upper 
classes,  or  with  the  humble  rickshaw 
man.  With  a  prayer  in  our  hearts 
to  Mary  the  Mother  of  Christians 
we  departed,  hoping  that  the  day 
might  soon  come,  when  the  land  will 
know  the  fulness  of  God's  revela- 
tions, and  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ 
and  Him  Crucified. 

The  weather  here  is  bitterly  cold. 
This  is  caused  by  the  dampness,  for 
the  thermometer  rarely  falls  below 
zero.  The  Russian  refugees  here  in 
great  numbers  from  Vladivostock, 
say  they  suffer  more  from  the  cold 
here,  in  Japan  than  they  ever  suf- 
fered in  the  frozen  fastnesses  of 
Siberia. 


fflTf 


guide  offered  to  take  me  to 
Foreign  settlement,  so  we 
went  across  the  city  to  the 
Bluff  where  the  Catholic  Church  is 
located. 

Our  route  lay  along  the  banks  of 
a  narrow  canal  crowded  with  boats. 
Boys  on  bicycles  were  hurrying  to 
and  fro,  threading  their  way  through 
the  congested  traffic.  Street  haw- 
kers were  busily  trying  to  sell  their 
goods.  Tradesmen  carrying  their 
wares  in  two  small  buckets  on  the 
end  of  a  pole  walked  slowly  by. 
The  hum  of  voices  and  the  clap,  clap 
of  the  wooden  sandals  made  me 
realize  that  I  was  in  a  new  world, 
or  rather  in  an  old  one,  where 
civilization  had  made  but  little  pro- 
gress. 

On  my  way  to  the  convent  where 
I  had  been  told  there  were  English 
speaking  Sisters,  I  passed  the  "Mis- 
sion Catholique"  with  its  beautiful 
church  and  gardens.  Pressure  of 
time  prevented  my  calling  there 
later  as  I  intended.  This  mission  is 
in  charge  of  the  Fathers  of  the 
Foreign  Mission  Society  of  Paris. 
It  was  to  this  community  that 
37 


Theophane    Venard,    known    as    the- 
"Modern  Martyr"  belonged. 

After  a  little  difficulty  I  found  the 
Sisters'  Convent,  rang  the  bell  which 
was  answered  by  a  dainty  little 
Japanese  girl.  I  finally  made  her 
understand  that  I  wanted  to  see  one 
of  the  Sisters,  and  I  was  ushered 
into  an  adjoining  parlor.  This  re- 
ception room  was  very  similar  to 
those  we  meet  with  in  America  :  a 
few  religious  pictures  on  the  wall, 
a  statue  of  a  saint  etc.  A  small 
brazier  filled  with  charcoal  furnished 
the  heat. 

The  Assistant  Superior  entererd 
now.  Speaking  perfect  English,  she 
explained  that  the  Community  was 
on  retreat.  She  expressed  her  regret 
that  this  made  it  impossible  for  me 
to  meet  the  Sisters.  The  evening 
conference  was  about  to  begin,  and 
I  felt  sorry  I  could  not  accept  the 
invitation  to  return  on  the  morrow, 
as  my  time  in  the  morning  would 
be  limited.  The  Convent  and  school 
is  in  charge  of  the  Dames  de  St. 
Maur,  and  is  made  up  of  French, 
Irish  and  Japanese  Sisters. 

(T.  JOSEPH'S  College,  con- 
ducted by  the  Brothers  of 
Mary  from  Dayton  Ohio,  is 
on  the  next  property.  Everything 
was  done  by  the  good  Brother 
Superior  to  make  my  short  visit  a 
pleasant  one.  Two  young  Brothers 
from  the  U.  S.  are  numbered  among 
the  professors.  One  a  native  of 
Maryland,  the  other  is  from  Ohio. 
Needless  to  say  they  were  delighted 
to  meet  someone  from  their  own 
country,  and  chatted  merrily  about 
affairs  in  "God's  Own  land." 

These  brothers  have  bsen  con- 
ducting schools  in  Japan  for  nearly 
forty  years,  and  are  thoroughly 
conversant  with  the  work.  Schools 
in  Tokyo,  Osaka,  Nagasaki  are  also 
under  their  supervision.  St.  Joseph's 
College  in  Yokohama  is  for  foreign 
boys  only.  The  others  have  a  large 
enrollment  of  Japanese.  About 
twenty  Japanese  Brothers  are  mem- 
bers of   the   Community. 

It  was  a  pleasure  to  extend  the 
greetings  of  the  Brothers  of  Mary 
in  Pittsburgh  to  their  brethren  in 
Yokohama.  Th^  Brother  Superior 
kindly  made  arrangements  with  the 
rickshaw   man    to    bring   me    to    the 


THE  +  SIGN 


College  in  the  morning  to  say  Mass. 

True   to   his   word,   my  man   was 
awaiting  me  the  next  morning  as  I 

stepped    off    the     

boat.  I  was  clad 
in  my  Passionist 
habit,  the  first,  I 
believe,  to  wear  the 
garb  of  St.  Paul  of 
the  Cross  on  the 
soil   of   Japan. 

It  was  the  Feast 
of  the  Epiphany, 
the  Apparition  of 
the  Star  to  the 
Gentiles,  that  saw 
the  first  Mass  of- 
fered by  a  Passion- 
ist on  the  soil  of 
Japan.  There,  in 
the  modest  chapel, 
close  to  the  still 
more  modest  crib, 
the  Precious  Blood 
of  the  Adorable 
Lamb  was  raised  to 
Heaven,  supplicat- 
ing the  Eternal 
Father.  to  have 
mercy  on  this  peo- 
ple groping  in  the  darkness  of  Pagan 
superstition. 

"O  God,  who  by  the  leading  of 
a  star  didst  on  this  day  manifest 
Thine  Only-begot- 
ten Son  to  the 
Gentiles  ;  mercifully 
grant  that  we,  who 
know  thee  now  by 
faith,  may  be 
brought  to  the  con- 
templation of  Thy 
glorious  majesty." 
Thus  ran  the  beau- 
tiful words  of  the 
Mass.  Yes,  O 
Eternal  Father,  may 
the  eyes  of  these, 
Thy  children,  be 
opened  to  the 
wonders  of  Thy 
love,  revealed  in  the 
Passion  and  Death 
of  Thy  beloved 
Son. 

"And    opening 
their  treasures  they 
offered  Him  gifts,  gold,  frankincense, 
and    myrrh."     O    Sweetest    Saviour, 
we   the   Sons  of  Thy   Passion   offer 
Thee  not  gold,  but  what  is  far  more 


pleasing  to  Thee :  the  sacrifice  of 
our  lives,  for  the  redemption  of 
these    children,    purchased    by    the 


THE    SUZUKI    FAMILY    ON    THE     "WENATCHEE1 

shedding    of    Thy    Most     Precious 
Blood. 

It    was    on    Christmas    Eve    that 
we    left    America.      How    propitious 


IN   JAPAN 


that  we  should  make  our  first  stop 
in  The  Far  East  on  the  Vigil  o-f 
the  Epiphany,  the  Christmas  of  the 
Gentiles,  and  in  that  country  so 
3S 


aptly    called    the    Morning   Star   of 
the    Orient! 

BO  B  E,  our 
next  port  in 
the  Orient, 
is  about  a  twenty 
four  hour  ride  on 
the  boat  from 
Yokohama.  The 
city  is  probably  the 
greatest  shipbuild- 
ing center  in  Japan. 
The  trip  along  the 
coast  gave  us  a 
splendid  view  of 
Mt.  Fuji,  the  sacred 
mountain,  crowned 
with  perpetual 
snow,  and  dominat- 
ing the  sky  line  in 
its  tremendous  ma- 
jesty. 

We  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  meeting 
Mr.  Alfred  Paul 
Suzuki,  one  of  the 
leading  Catholics  of 
the  Japanese  Em- 
pire. Air.  Suzuki 
was  a  member  of  the  delegation 
which  greeted  Cardinal  O'Connell 
on  his  famous  mission  to  the  Orient 
some  years. ago.  When  this  gentle- 
nan  first  took  up 
his  abode  in  Kobe 
some  fifteen  years 
igo,  there  were  only 
about  fifteen  or 
twenty  Catholics  in 
the  city.  On 
Christmas,  1921, 
there  were  nearly 
600. 

Our  host  wished 
us  to  have  a  glimpse 
o  f  Japanese  life 
untainted  by  the 
modernism  w  h  i  c  h 
exists  in  the  cities 
along  the  seacoast. 
A  c  c  o  r  d  i  ngly  we 
entrained  for 
Kyoto,  about  sixty 
miles  by  rail  from 
Kobe. 
Kyoto,  with  its 
population  of  600,000,  is,  we  were 
told,  one  of  the  most  interesting 
cities  in  Japan.  It  is  the  religious 
center    of    the    Empire,    having    87S 


THE  +SIGN 


Buddhist  temples  and  90  Shinto 
shrines  within  the  city  limits.  For 
over  a  thousand  years  it  was  the 
capital  of  the  country.  Founded 
by  the  Emperor  Kwammu  in  A.  D. 
794,  it  remained  the  capital,  and  the 
residence  of  the  Emperors  until 
1869.  The  Imperial  court  was  then 
removed    to   Tokyo. 

A  Japanese  railroad,  is  like  the 
people,  rather  diminutive.  The 
European  custom  of  having  first, 
second  and  third  class,  is  strictly 
observed.  The  engines  are  small, 
but  make  good  time,  and  the  coaches 
compare  favorably  with  any  in 
America. 

aT  each  station  the  crowd 
pushed  and  shoved  in  true 
American  style.  Quick-lunch 
entrance  and  exit.  The  quick-lunch 
and  newspaper  boys  cried  their 
wares.  Across  the  aisle  from  us,  a 
young  Jap  clad  in  native  costume, 
dropped  his  sandals  (wooden)  on  the 
floor,  drew  his  legs  under  him,  tailor 
fashion,  opened  his  lunch,  and  began 
to  wield  his  chopsticks  energetically, 
to  consume  his  rice.  From  the  noise 
he  emitted,  it  must  have  been  very 
appetizing. 

XN  all  the  country  we  tra- 
versed, there  was  hardly  a 
square  yard  which  was  not 
cultivated.  Rice  fields,  dotted  the 
land  like  a  checkerboard.  Men  and 
women  worked  vigorously  at  the 
crops  which,  in  spite  of  the  chilly 
weather,  were  green  and  flourishing. 
Villages  of  trim  and  tidy  houses 
slipped  by,  with  the  sloping  roof  of 
the  ever-present  Buddhist  temple 
dominating  the  town. 

After  lunch  our  host  had  us 
driven  to  some  of  the  places  of  in- 
terest. In  Kyoto  are  to  be  found 
the  best  specimens  of  Japanese  art, 
for  in  spite  of  the  removal  of  the 
capital  to  Tokyo,  it  still  remains  the 
center  of  art,  religion,  and  literature. 
The  Emperors  gardens  were  next 
seen.  Formerly  these  could  not  be 
entered  except  by  special  permit 
from  the  Imperial  household.  Now, 
however,  they  are  open  to  all. 
Nothing  in  America  can  surpass 
these  grounds  in  beauty ;  and  our 
only  regret  was  that  we  had  not 
the  privilege  of  seeing  them  in  the 


summer  tune,  wne 
acres  are  in  bloss 
bed  in   Fairyland. 


e  two  hundred 
like  a   flower- 


jYOTO,  as  we  mentioned,  is 
the  religious  city  of  Japan. 
"Cliion-in"  temple,  our  next 
visit,  is  built  on  a  charming  eminence 
near  Maruyama  park.  The  bonzes 
have  chosen  well  when  they  selected 
sites  for  their  temples,  the  character 


Grateful       acknowledgement 

is  hereby  made  for  the  follow- 

ing    donations     for     the 

Pas- 

sionist   Missions   in  China 

Anon.   Dunkirk,   N.   Y.   . 

$5.00 

Miss  C,  Newark,  N.J... 

1.00 

Rev.  C.  Scranton,  Pa..  .  . 

8.00 

M.    S.    J.    Pittsburgh 

1.00 

Miss    M.    R.   Boston 

10.00 

Anon,   Cambridge,   Mass. 

2.00 

P.    R.    Cincinnati 

3.00 

Miss    B.    C.    Baltimore.  . 

5.00 

Rev.     C.     Scranton 

3.00 

Miss  E.  C,  East  Orange, 

N.    J 

1.00 

Miss    W.    Scranton 

1.00 

C.   C.    Montclair,    N.   J..  . 

4.00 

Miss   W.,  New  York..    . 

5.00 

Anon,   Lakewood,   N.   Y.. 

6.00 

Anon,   Crown    Pt.,    N.   Y. 

30.00 

S.   Charlestown,    Mass..  . 

10.00 

Anonomous    

17.00 

Mite    Box,    Philadelphia. 

3.50 

Requests      have      come 

for 

"Mite    Boxes."      These 

>oxes 

are  now  ready  for  distribution, 

and  will  be  sent   on   request  to 

THE  SIGN. 

of  the  countryside  lending  itself 
beautifully  to  this  type  of  building. 
The  approach  is  always  up  a  giant 
stairway  of  stone  which  cannot  fail 
to  impress,  and  give  an  air  of  im- 
portance to  the  temple  itself.  This 
particular  shrine  is  the  head  temple 
of  The  Jodo  sect  of  Buddhism,  and 
was  built  by  Honen-Shonen  in  the 
12th  century.  Formerly  the  Lord 
Abbot  of  Chion-in  held  the  office 
of   Imperial    Prince. 

Our  disappointment  was  keen 
when  we  found  that  we  were  just 
five  minutes  late  to  attend  services. 
The  temple  closes  promptly  at  four, 
as  the  old  sandal-keeper  informed 
us.  At  times  hundreds  of  Bonzes 
take  part  in  the  imposing  ceremon- 
39 


ies,  dressed  in  gorgeous  vestments, 
and  intoning  the  service  in  a  mono- 
tonous chant.  Standing  on  an  enor- 
mous dome  on  the  hillside  is  the 
great  bronze  bell  from  which  sounds 
the  solemn  warning  that  the  time  ol 
prayer  is  come. 

IIYOMIDZU  Temple  to  which 
we  next  bent  our  stops  is 
situated  to  the  south  on  the 
same  range  of  hills.  Dedicated  to 
Kwannon,  the  goddess  of  mercy,  it 
is  under  the  control  of  the  Shingon 
sect.  Here  we  had  an  opportunity 
to  view  the  devotions  of  the  people 
at  close  range.  Men  and  women 
were  praying,  or  doing  what  looked 
like  praying.  This  consisted  mainly 
in  many  bows,  etc.,  but  nobody 
seemed  serious  with  the  exception 
of  one  or   two. 

We  were  privileged  to  see  a  real 
Japanese  funeral.  Up  the  street 
came  the  procession,  led  by  two  men 
carrying  what  looked  like  Christmas 
trees,  gaily  decorated  with  tinsel 
and  colored  ribbon.  Next  came  a 
rickshaw  bearing  what  looked  like 
the  chief  mourners:  a  mother  and 
her  child.  Then  appeared  the  casket 
carried  on  two  poles,  the  end  of 
each  pole  resting  on  the  shoulder  of 
four  sturdy  Japs.  The  rear  of  the 
procession  was  made  up  by  a  body 
of  young  men  in  uniform,  most 
likely  the  school  or  organization  to 
which  the  dead  man  belonged,  as 
our  host  informed  us. 

^ir^E  were  soon  on  our  way  back 
f  J  1  to  Kobe,  satisfied  that  we 
^*^    had    a    glimpse,    at    least,    of 

real  Japanese  life.  And  we  could 
not  help  feeling  the  greatest  respect 
and  admiration  for  this  Japanese 
gentleman  who  continues  to  lead 
such  an  ideal  Catholic  life  amid 
these  pagan  surroundings. 

The  next  morning  which  was 
Sunday,  Mr.  Suzuki  called  at  the 
boat  with  his  wife  and  family.  He 
kindly  consented  to  be  snapped  with 
the  Fathers,  and  we  felt  justly  proud 
to  have  our  picture  taken  with  these 
Japanese  Catholics,  who  give  such 
great  hope  for  the  future  of  the 
Catholic   Church   in  Japan. 

At  last  we  are  on  our  way  to 
China! 

FR.  CELESTINE,  C.  P. 


Index  to  Worthwhile  Reading 


The  Home  World.  By  Francis 
Doyle,  S.  J.  New  York;  Benziger 
Brothers.  Price,  Cloth  $1.25.  Paper 
25  cents. 

No  subject  can  be  of  more  vital 
interest  than  the  home.  It  is  the 
foundation  on  which  is  built  alike, 
church  and  state,  and  neither  can 
be  indifferent  to  its  influence.  Con- 
sciously or  not,  every  one  is  influ- 
enced by,  and  is  influencing  the 
home.  A  book  setting  forth  in 
bold  relief  the  ideal  of  the  Christian 
Home  is  ever  opportune :  but  in 
these  days  of  light  housekeeping — 
boarding — and  hotel  apartments,  it 
is  emphatically  so,  for  unto  the 
many,  home  as  it  once  was,  is  fast 
becoming  a  mere  memory. 

Unfortunately  the  influence  of 
those  who  no  longer  esteem  the  Old 
Fashioned  Home,  has  extended  to 
many  who  are  possessed  of  the 
makings  of  a  happy  home,  but  do 
not  seem  to  realize  the  extent  in 
which  it  is  a  factor  for  happiness  in 
life.  In  consequence  recreation  and 
pleasure  are  sought  outside  the 
hallowed  walls  of  home,  often  at 
the  frightful  cost  of  faith  and  more 
frequently  of  innocence  and  virtue. 
The  blame  for  this  condition  is  many 
sided ;  some  parents  are  to  blame ; 
some  children  are  to  blame,  and  at 
times  both  parents  and  children 
are  to  blame  because  of  the 
conditions  of  modern  social  life. 
However  it  must  not  be  forgotten 
that  we  may  and  at  times  must  rise 
superior  to  conditions,  when  duty 
beckons  us  to  follow  in  her  path. 
This  the  Author  of  Home  World 
clearly  points  out  as  possible,  if  the 
"Friendly  Counsels  of  Home  Keep- 
ing  Hearts"   are   followed. 

The  book  is  interesting,  we  might 
almost  say  fascinating,  and  no  book 
can  claim  a  place  on  the  living  room 
table  with  better  right,  where  all 
the  members  of  the  family  might 
read  with  profit.  Fr.  Doyle  has  pre- 
served for  the  present  generation, 
the  plans  and  specifications  which 
our  forefathers  followed  in  building 


those  wonderful  homes  from  which 
came  forth  both  genius  and  sanctity. 
It  was  a  happy  thought  to  publish 
this  multum  in  parvo  in  pamphlet 
form,  to  make  wide  distribution 
possible,  as  well  as  ready  sales  on 
Mission  Stands  and  Parkh  Book 
Racks. 

The  Ascent  to  Calvary..  By  Pere 
Louis  Perroy.  P.  J.  Kenedy  &  Sons. 
New  York.    $1.50. 

The  avowed  mission  of  "THE 
SIGN",  is  to  make  Christ  Crucified 
better  known  and  greater  loved. 

With  particular  joy,  therefore,  it 
welcomes  and  introduces  to  its  kind 
readers,  a  new  and  attractive  work 
on  the  Sacred  Passion — "The  Ascent 
to  Calvary,"  by  Pere  Louis  Perroy. 

In  the  pages  of  this  book,  the 
undying  story  of  divine  love  and 
bitter  suffering,  is  again  retold,  but 
with  a  beauty,  freshness  and  vivid- 
ness, that  makes  it  a  veritable  gem, 
in  the  treasury  of  Passion  Literature. 

The  book  is  divided  into  three 
parts.  The  first  part  is  entitled, 
"The  Instruments  of  Torture." 
Herein,  the  author  depicts,  in  short, 
striking  chapters,  the  pains  and 
sufferings  inflicted  upon  the  Inno- 
cent Victim,  by  the  cords  and  whips, 
the  thorns  and  nails.  Practical  re- 
flections close  each  chapter,  and 
afford  abundant  food  for  personal 
thought   and   meditation. 

"Tortures  of  the  Heart"  are  re- 
vealed in  the  second  part.  "Out- 
raged Dignity,"  "Imprisoned  Ten- 
derness," "Love  Disdained"  and 
"Jerusalem-Rejecting  and  Rejected" 
— such  are  a  few  of  the  torturers 
which  the  Heart  of  Love  endures, 
and  which  are  so  admirably  por- 
trayed in  these  chapters.  Only  a 
devout  lover  of  the  Master,  could 
penetrate  so  deeply  and  paint  so 
touchingly  the  tortures  of  His 
Sacred   Heart. 

In  the  last  part,  the  Divine  Victim 
ascends  Calvary  and  reaches  "The 
Summit  of  Torture."  Once  again 
are  heard  the  sweet  words  of  mercy 


and  forgiveness ;  of  tender  solicitude 
and  love;  mingled  with  the  derisive 
cries  of  hate  and  mockery.  At 
length  the  "Summit  of  Torture"  is 
reached  in  the  utter  desolation  and 
the  abandonment  even  by  God  Him- 
self, of  the  dying  Saviour.  Thus, 
tortured  in  body,  tortured  in  mind, 
and  tortured  in  soul,  the  Man  of 
Sorrows  dies. 

Both  the  devout  and  religious  will 
find  in  these  pages  inspiration  and 
the  awakening  of  a  greater  love  for 
Chrirst  and  Him  Crucified. 

The  book  is  well  typed,  and  makes 
Christ  and  Him  Crucified. 

Cobra  Island.  By  Neil  Boy  ton, 
S.  J.  New  York.  Benziger  Brothers. 
Price,  $1.25. 

There  is  no  end  of  stories,  but 
gripping  stories  for  the  young  can- 
not be  too  many,  so  a  welcome  is 
in  store  for  COBRA  ISLAND,  not 
only  from  the  young,  but  from  every 
wonders  how  the  author  has  found 
of  the  book,  chosen  at  random.  Th« 
action  is  rapid  and  one  thrill  suc- 
ceeds another  without  interruption 
from  start  to  finish.  One  often 
wonders  how  the  author  has  found 
it  possible  to  conjure  so  many  hair- 
breadth escapes,  with  pirates,  sea 
monsters,  alien  enemies,  carefully 
concealed  death  traps,  etc,  within 
the  compass  of  one  small  12mo. 
volume.  However  it  can  be  safely 
said,  that  everything  the  reader  has 
learned  from  dry-as-dust  text  books, 
about  long  sea  voyages,  sea  fights, 
ship  wrecks,  and  thrilling  adventures 
he  will  find  clothed  in  living  form 
in  COBRA  ISLAND.  It  is  such  a 
story,  that  will  make  any  juvenile 
reader  forget  the  more  serious  things 
of  life,  and  neglect  study,  and  even 
forget  food  and  rest,  till  the  book 
is    finished. 

Possibly  COBRA  ISLAND  is  too 
highly  spiced  for  the  ravenous  ap- 
petite of  the  young,  hungry  for  the 
marvellous   and   extravagant. 


4 


A  NATIONAL      <J>     CATHOLIC 
/MONTHLY        MACAZINEX 


MAY,    1922 


No.   10 


ffififfifrffiWiffl 


wflmmMMm 


Saint   Teresa   and   the   Crucified 


D.C.N. 


'AINT   Teresa,   the   great   Saint   of   Spain 
writes  in  the  seventh  chapter  of  the  'Inter- 
ior Castle,'  "Fix 
youreyesonJesus 

Crucified  and  nothing  will 

seem  hard   to   you."     As 

we   visualize   her   life   of 

heroic  work  and  suffering, 

we  know  that  Teresa  of 

Jesus,  in  this  as  in  all  else, 

first    practised    what    she 

taught  and  that  she  passed 

through     the     sixty-seven 

years  of  her  earthly  exile, 

with  enraptured  gaze  lift- 
ed up  to  Jesus  and  Him 

Crucified. 

This  year  of  our  Lord, 

1922,    marks     the     300th 

anniversary  of  her  Canoni- 
zation, and  to-day  as  three 

hundred  years  ago,  when 

the   Cortes   declared   her, 

conjointly  with  St.  James 

the  Apostle,  the  Patroness 

of  Spain,  she  is  still  the 

idol    of    her    enthusiastic 

countrymen,  la  Santa,  the 

incomparable    Doc  tor  a 


and  to  us  of  less  ardent  temperaments.     Would  that 
we  could  melt  our  icy  hearts  in  the  seraphic  flames 
of     her     love     for     Jesus 
Crucified! 

Teresa  Sanchez 
"epeda  Davila  y  Ahumada 
was  born  in  Avila  of  Old 
Castile,  on  March  28th, 
1515,  and  passed  her 
childhood  in  the  healthful 
atmosphere  of  a  truly 
Catholic  home.  After  her 
mother's  early  death,  her 
sainted  father  placed  her 
in  the  Convent  of  Augus- 
tinian  Nuns  to  complete 
her  education,  and  at  the 
age  of  twenty  she  entered 
the  Carmelite  Monastery 
outside  the  walls  of  her 
native  town. 

Here  at  theEncarnac- 
ion,  beloved  of  her  com- 
munity and  sought  in  the 
Convent  parlour  by  the 
elite  of  Avila, — for  her 
personal      charms      were 

OUR    LORD    AT   THE   PILLAR  "^^  TereSa  P3SSed  eigh" 

the  vision  which  converted  st.  teresa  teeri  years  in  cruel  bodily 


Mystica  of  Avila!  Her  influence  is  not  confined  to 
the  country  that  glories  in  her  birth :  hers  is  an 
universal  mission,  she  belongs  to  our  modern  times 


sufferings,  struggling  as  well  with  aridities  in  prayer 
and  desolation  of  spirit,  until  as  she  says  in  her 
Autobiography  her  soul  was  grown  weary.     It  was 


THE  1*  SIGN 


the  vision,  at  this  crucial  period,  of  our  Lord,  bound 
to  the  Pillar  of  the  Flagellation,  most  grievously 
wounded,  robed  in  the  royal  crimson  of  His  Precious 
Blood,  that  wrought  what  the  humble  Saint  ever 
after  termed  her  conversion. 

"So  keenly  did  I  feel  the  evil  return  I  had 
made  for  those  Wounds  that  I  thought  my  heart 
was  breaking.  I  threw  myself  on  the  ground,  my 
tears  flowing  plenteously,  and  implored  Him  to 
strengthen  me  once  for  all,  so  that  I  might  never 
more  offend  Him.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  said  to 
Him  that  I  would  not  rise  up  until  He  granted  my 
petition." 

Y?=xOW  fully  our  Lord  heard  her  may  be  judged 
IP  by  the  Saint's  life  from  that  day  forth.  Yield- 
ing herself  completely  to  the  exigencies  of 
Divine  Love,  she  gave  herself  unreservedly  to  that 
wonderful  life  of  prayer,  recorded  at  the  command 
of  her  Confessors,  in  her  "Autobiography" — one  of 
the  treasures  of  the  Church  of  God !  In  those  early 
days  her  meditation  was  daily  on  the  Passion,  even 
in  later  years  when  she  had  received  the  highest 
supernatural  graces,  St.  Francis  Borgia  and  Fra 
Juan  de  Padranos  advised  her  always  to  begin  her 
prayer  with  the  consideration  of  a  mystery  of  the 
Passion  "the  Source  of  all  good  that  ever  came  and 
that  ever  shall  come."     (Life,  ch.  XIII) 

"As  I  could  not  make  reflections  with  my 
understanding"  she  says,  "I  contrived  to  picture 
Christ  within  me.  ...  in  particular  I  used  to  find 
myself  most  at  home  in  the  Prayer  in  the  Garden 
whither  I  went  in  His  company.  I  thought  of  the 
bloody  sweat  He  endured  there;  I  wished  if  it  had 
been  possible  to  wipe  that  painful  sweat  from  His 
Face,  but  I  remember  I  never  dared  to  form  such  a 
resolution — my  sins  stood  before  me  so  grievously. 
I  used  to  remain  with  Him,  as  long  as  my  thoughts 
allowed  me — and  I  had  many  thoughts  to  torment 
me.  For  many  years,  nearly  every  night  before  I 
fell  asleep,  when  I  recommended  myself  to  God, 
that  I  might  sleep  in  peace,  I  used  always  to  think 
a  little  of  this  mystery  of  the  Prayer  in  the  Garden, 
even  before  I  became  a  nun.  I  believe  that  my  soul 
gained  very  much  in  this  way,  because  I  began  to 
practise  prayer  without  knowing  what  it  was." 
(Life,  ch  IX.) 

We  think  of  St.  Teresa  as  the  Mater  Spiritu- 
alium,  the  great  authoritative  Mistress  of  Prayer, 
and  some  of  us  may  be  tempted  to  feel  that  her 
sublime  teachings  are  not  for  us,  but  who  is  there 


that  cannot  find  help  and  encouragement  in  this 
most  easy  method,  wherein  there  are  no  points  nor 
preludes  to  alarm  us,  but  simply  a  loving  bearing 
our  Lord  company  in  the  abandonment  of  His 
Agony?  It  is  indeed  principally  to  beginners  in 
the  holy  ways  of  prayer  that  she  addresses  the 
whole  of  the  XI  Chapter  of  her  Life,  urging  them  to 
resolve  firmly,  once  and  for  all,  to  help  our  Lord 
carry  His  Cross.  "He  who  shall  discern  this  resolu- 
tion in  himself  has  nothing  to  fear"  and  has  already 
made  great  progress  on  the  road. 

©EARING  about  in  her  the  Lord  Jesus  Cruci- 
fied, the  Saint  naturally  makes  choice  of  a 
mystery  of  His  Passion,  in  giving  us  a  practi- 
cal example  of  how  to  make  a  meditation:  "We 
set  ourselves  to  meditate  upon  some  mystery  of 
the  Passion :  let  us  say  our  Lord  at  the  Pillar.  The 
understanding  goeth  about  seeking  for  the  sources 
out  of  which  came  the  great  dolours  and  the  bitter 
anguish  which  His  Majesty  endured  in  that  desola- 
tion. It  considers  that  mystery  in  many  lights.  .  .  . 
the  sufferings  He  there  endured,  for  whom  He  en- 
dured them,  Who  He  is  Who  endured  them,  and  the 
love  with  which  He  bore  them.  But  a  person  should 
not  always  fatigue  himself  making  these  reflections, 
but  rather  let  him  remain  there  with  Christ,  in  the 
silence  of  the  understanding.  Let  him  employ 
himself  in  looking  upon  Christ,  Who  is  looking  upon 
him;  let  him  humble  himself  and  delight  in  Christ, 
and  keep  in  mind  that  he  never  deserved  to  be  there. 
This  is  a  method  of  prayer  which  should  be  to 
every  one  the  beginning,  the  middle  and  the  end: 
a  most  excellent  and  safe  way."     (Life,  ch.  XIII.) 

It  would  almost  seem  that  this  mystery  of  our 
Lord  bound  to  the  Column — the  Vision  which  had 
changed  Teresa  de  Ahumada  into  Teresa  of  Jesus — 
was  ever  after  her  mystery  of  predilection.  When 
in  obedience  to  inspiration  from  on  High,  she  com- 
menced the  stupendous  work  for  which  God  destined 
her,  the  reform  of  the  ancient  Order  of  Carmel,  in 
the  first  Monastery  she  founded,  St.  Joseph's  at 
Avila,  that  little  "rinconcito  di  Dios"  as  she  loved 
to  call  it,  she  arranged  in  the  garden  a  lonely  and 
most  devotional  hermitage  dedicated  to  "Christ  at 
the  Column."  It  exists  there  today  with  the  same 
picture,  which  St.  Teresa  caused  to  be  painted  for  it. 

Mother  Isabelle  of  St.  Dominic,  in  her  2nd 
Deposition  for  the  Canonization,  relates  that  the 
Saint  prayed  much  over  this  painting,  and  explained 
to  the  minutest  detail,  to  a  good  artist,  how  it  was 


THE  1*  SIGN 


to  be  done — the  cords,  the  wounds,  the  hair,  the 
Face,  even  to  a  fragment  of  flesh  literally  scourged 
out  of  the  left  arm  near  the  elbow.  When  the  paint- 
ing was  finished,  the  holy  Mother  drew  near  to 
examine  it,  and  fell  into  ecstasy  in  the  presence  of 
the  painter,  who  had  succeeded,  according  to  his 
own  testimony,  miraculously.  The  Saint  acknow- 
ledged to  Mother  Isabelle  that  it  had  indeed  cost 
her  many  hours  of  prayer,  for  God  had  given  her 
such  a  lively  desire  to  succeed  in  representing  this 
subject,  "O  my  daughter"  she  added,  ".may  He  be 
blessed  for  having  reduced  Himself  to  such  a  state 
for  love  of  us!" 

XN  the  mystic  Espousals  of  St.  Teresa  with 
Jesus,  it 
was  this 
Sponsus  Sanguinis 
Who  came  to  wed 
this  royal-hearted 
lover  of  His 
Cross,  not  with  a 
ring  as  to  St. 
Catherine,  nor  by 
an  exchange  of 
hearts  as  with  St. 
Gertrude,  but  with 
the  blood-stained 
Nail  of  His  Cruci- 
fixion. Extending 
His  right  Hand, 
Our  Lord  said  to 
her:  "Behold  this 
Nail!  it  is  the 
pledge  of  thy  being  My  bride  from  this  day  forth." 
(Rel.  III.) 

He  dowered  His  bride  with  the  sorrows  of  His 
Passion.  "Thou  knowest  of  the  betrothal  between 
thee  and  Me ;  and  therefore  all  that  I  have  is  thine ; 
and  so  I  give  thee  all  the  labours  and  sorrows  I 
endured,  and  thou  canst  therefore  ask  of  My  Father 
as  if  they  were  thine;  and  the  Saint  goes  on  to  say 
that  though  she  knew  we  were  partakers  therein, 
according  to  the  words  of  St.  Peter,  "Communicantes 
Christi  passionibus  gaudete,"  this  was  in  a  way  so 
different  that  it  seemed  as  if  she  had  become  pos- 
sessed of  a  great  principality,  and  from  that  time 
forth  she  looked  on  Our  Lord's  Passion  as  on  some- 
thing that  belonged  to  her.     (Rel.  IX.) 

And  in  this  ineffable  marriage  what  was  the 
bride's  escutcheon  to  be?     The  Five  rosy  Wounds 


THE    BRIDGE 
LOWER   BRIDGE   USED   BY    ST.    TE 


of  her  Bridegroom!  "O  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  King 
over  all  things,  Son  of  the  Everlasting  Father,  what 
hast  Thou  left  in  the  world  for  us  Thy  children  to 
inherit?  What  were  Thy  possessions?  Only  toil 
and  sorrow  and  insult.  Thou  hadst  nothing  but  the 
hard  wood  to  rest  on  when  undergoing  the  bitter 
anguish  of  death.  It  is  not  fitting  that  we  should 
run  away  from  suffering  if  we  would  not  renounce 
the  inheritance.  Thine  armorial  bearings  are  five 
wounds:  this  must  also  be  our  device."  (Founda- 
tions, ch  X.) 

"Thinkest  thou,  My  daughter,  that  meriting 
lies  in  fruition?"  said  the  Divine  Lover  to  her  one 
day.  "No;  meriting  lies  only  in  doing,  in  suffering 
and  in  loving.  Thou  hast  never  heard  that  St.  Paul 
had  the  fruition  of 
heavenly  joys 
more  than  once, 
while  he  was  of- 
ten in  suffering. 
Thou  seest  how 
My  whole  life  was 
full  of  dolours, 
and  only  on 
Mount  Thabor 
hast  thou  heard 
of  Me  in  glory. 
Do  not  suppose 
when  thou  seest 
My  Mother  hold 
Me  in  her  arms, 
that  she  had  that 

AT    AVTT  A  i  •    1 

RESA   IN    FLIGHT   FROM    HOME  W   Unmixed   With 

heavy  sorrows. 
From  the  time  that  Simeon  spoke  to  her,  My  Father 
made  her  see  in  clear  light  all  I  had  to  suffer. 
Believe  Me,  My  daughter,  his  trials  are  heaviest 
whom  My  Father  loves  most;  trials  are  the  measure 
of  His  love.  How  can  I  show  My  love  for  thee 
better  than  by  desiring  for  thee,  what  I  desired  for 
Myself?  Consider  My  Wounds;  thy  pains  will 
never  reach  to  them.  This  is  the  way  of  truth :  thus 
shalt  thou  help  Me  weep  over  the  ruin  of  those  who 
are  in  the  world,  for  thou  knowest  how  all  their 
desires,  anxieties,  and  thoughts  tend  the  other  way." 
{Rel.  III.) 

^tt^ITH  her  feet  planted  in  this  way  of  truth  by 

\|/  Jesus  Himself,  St.  Teresa,  in  her  turn,  left 

her  daughters  under  no  illusion:    Carmel  was 

Calvary  rather  than  Thabor,  and  the  desire  to  suffer 


THE  1*  SIGN 


much  in  our  Lord's  service  was  the  one  she  strove 
to  kindle  in  the  hearts  of  her  children.  "She  who 
does  not  feel  this  desire  must  not  look  upon  herself 
as  a  true  Carmelite  nun,  because  the  aim  of  our 
desires  must  be  not  rest  but  suffering  that  we  may 
be  in  some  measure  like  unto  Him,  our  true  Bride- 
groom."    (Life,  ch.  XXVIII,  37). 

That  her  nuns  were  generous  enough  to  savour 
such  hard  lessons  is  evidenced  by  the  following 
extract,  taken  at  random  from  the  writings  of  Mary 
of  St.  Joseph,  one  of  the  first  Carmelites  of  the 
Reform,  and  St.  Teresa's  best  loved  daughter:  "If 
you  give  your  hand  to  Christ  as  His  bride,  a  nail 
will  fasten  it  to  His.  He  is  a  Spouse  of  blood : 
if  then  you  desire  the  King  to  be  taken  with  your 
beauty,  if  you  would  be  like  to  Him,  deck  yourself 
out  in  garments  of  blood.  Mockeries  were  His  joys  - 
insults,  His  honours;  scourges,  His  pleasures;  blas- 
phemies, His  music.  Gall  was  His  refreshment, 
and  thorns,  His  crown.  If  He  repose  on  the  bosom 
of  His  bride  He  cannot  but  wound  her.  If  you  have 
not  felt  the  piercing  of  His  thorns,  it  is  clear  that  the 
Well-Beloved  has  not  yet  embraced  you,  giving  you 
the  kiss  of  peace.  Had  you  received  it,  certainly 
you  would  have  tasted  the  bitterness  of  the  gall 
which  drenched  His  lips."  ("Ramillete  de  mirra," 
Prologue.) 

It  was  to  afford  her  suffering  Lord  a  place  of 
consolation  and  rest  with  such  souls  as  this,  that 
Teresa  built  seventeen  Convents  for  the  Nuns  of  her 
Reform,  and  fifteen  for  the  Friars,  but  all  at  the 
cost  of  incredible  labours  to  herself,  for  as  she  said : 
"If  His  Majesty  show  His  love  for  us  by  such 
torments,  how  can  we  desire  to  please  Him  by 
words  only?  We  must  be  the  slaves  of  God,  if  we 
would  be  truly  spiritual — signed  with  His  mark 
which  is  that  of  the  Cross." 

^^^HIS  sacred  sign  stamped  Heaven's  approval 
I  J  upon  every  work  undertaken  by  Teresa. 
Sufferings  overwhelmed  her,  increasing  with 
the  years.  God  gave  her  soul  "to  feed  upon  strong 
and  substantial  meat,  the  sufferings  of  the  Cross  of 
His  Son."  (S.  John  of  the  Cross,  "Ascent,"  ch.  XXI) 
Truly  she  could  say: 

"Pars   mea  praeclara 

Sit    crux    et    vulnera, 
Spinae    sint    corona, 

Clavi   monilia," 

for  her  love  waxed  in  suffering,  and  as  its  flame 
burned  purer  and  higher,  she  longed  with  all  a  saint's 


intensity  for  more  fuel  to  feed  it,  nor  was  this  ever 
wanting.  Bodily  pain  afflicted  her  continually — 
we  have  her  own  testimony  that  for  more  than  forty 
years,  she  was  never  for  one  day  free  from  it.  She 
was  cruelly  tried  by  the  malice  of  demons;  by  the 
opposition  of  good  but  timorous  or  prejudiced  men; 
as  well  as  by  the  imprudences  of  the  impulsive 
among  her  own  children. 

But  neither  man  nor  devil  could  hush  the  song 
of  Teresa's  soul :  "Misericordias  Domini  in 
aeternum  cantabo" — those  mercies  which  the  Blood 
of  the  Passion  had  purchased  for  her! 

One  day  after  Communion,  her  mouth  was 
filled  with  warm  Blood,  and  the  sweetness  she  felt 
was  exceedingly  great,  ravishing  her  out  of  herself. 
"Daughter,"  said  our  Lord  to  her,  "My  Will  is  that 
My  Blood  should  profit  thee.  I  shed  It  in  much 
suffering  and  as  thou  seest,  thou  hast  the  fruition  of 
It  in  great  joy."     {Rel.  V.) 

On  another  occasion,  when  her  extreme  weak- 
ness prevented  her  eating,  Christ  appeared  to  her, 
and  breaking  the  bread,  put  it  in  her  mouth  saying: 
"Eat,  My  daughter,  I  condole  with  thee  in  thy 
suffering;  but  it  is  good  for  thee  now."  The  Saint 
says  the  word  condole  made  her  strong  and  all  her 
pain  disappeared.  "Oh  how  soon  does  all  that  is 
endured  for  love  heal  up  again"  she  exclaims. 

OF  her  inner  crucifixion  what  can  be  said?  Of 
that  agonizingly  sweet  pain  inflicted  by  the 
Seraph's  dart,  which  transpierced  her  heart 
and  left  her  dying  because  she  could  not  die?  Of 
the  torture  of  the  enraptured  soul  "crucified  between 
Heaven  and  earth,  enduring  its  passion?"  For  all 
this  sharp  martyrdom  full  of  mystic  sweetness,  was 
her  portion  for  long  years,  as  she  traversed  Spain, 
from  North  to  South,  from  East  to  West,  braving 
the  snows  of  winter,  or  the  burning  heat  of  the 
Andalusian  sun,  as  she  founded  everywhere  her 
Monasteries  for  the  Friars  and  Nuns  of  the  Reformed 
Carmel.  Avila,  Medina  del  Campo,  Malagon, 
Vallodolid,  Toledo,  Pastrana,  Salamanca,  Alba  de 
Tormes,  Segovia,  Veas,  Palencia,  and  the  rest — what 
memories  their  names  evoke  for  every  student  of 
St.  Teresa's  life  and  times!  How  often  she  passed 
from  one  to  another  of  her  houses,  strengthening, 
encouraging,  teaching,  forming  her  nuns  to  her  own 
ideal :  "There  is  nothing  worth  living  for  but  suffer- 
ing."     (Life,   ch.   XL.) 

The  last  journey  of  her  life  was  a  true  via 
dolorosa  which  led  to  her  Calvary.     The  Saint  was 


THE  +  SIGN 


in  an  exhausted  and  dying  condition  when  she  left 
Burgos  for  Avila  in  the  summer  of  1582.  In  obedi- 
ence to  the  Father  Provincial  she  visited  the  various 
Carmels  on  her  route,  and  reached  that  of  Alba  de 
Tormes  nearly  dead,  on  September  20th.  The  last 
illness  was  short — September  29th  to  October  4th — 
or  rather  was  it  not  the  sudden  ending  of  a  long, 
long  illness,  the  malady  of  Divine  Love,  which  had 
slowly  consumed  her,  ever  since  the  Vision  of  her 
torn  and  bleeding  Spouse,  in  the  Oratory  of  the 
Encarnacion  ? 

As  the  falling  shadows  of  the  last  day  of  her 
exile  closed  about  her,  Teresa's  eyes  sought  her — 
Crucifix.  The  year  before,  while  making  the  founda- 
tion  at   Soria,   she   had   written   an   exquisite   little 


poem  "To  the  Crucifix."    Perhaps  it  gives  some  clue 
to  her  dying  thoughts.    We  quote  only  one  stanza : 

"I    do    not    fear    the    anguish    rife 

In   that   last   parting's   bitter   sting 
If   unto   Thee,   My   Christ,    I    cling, 
For   in   that   hour   of   final   strife 
I    hold   within    my   clasped    hands — Life." 

We  are  told  by  the  privileged  witnesses  of 
Saint  Teresa's  last  moments,  that  during  the  wonder- 
ful extasy  of  fourteen  hours,  which  preceeded  her 
precious  death,  she  lay  upon  her  left  side,  her  face 
transparently  beautiful  and  radiant,  gazing  upon 
her  Crucifix  "within  her  clasped  hands,"  nor  was 
It  removed  until  her  blessed  soul  had  fled  to  the 
everlasting  embrace  of  the  Crucified. 


A  Tribute  of  Love 


DOT  long  since  an  incident  occurred,  trivial  in 
itself,  but  deeply  significant  and  instructive 
to  those  who  saw  and  understood.  An  un- 
usual concourse  of  people  had  gathered  to  pay  the 
last  respects  to  the  memory  of  one,  locally  promi- 
nent. The  remains  had  been  lowered  to  their  last 
earthly  resting  place,  prayers  of  Mother  Church  were 
finished,  the  clods  of  earth  dropped  onto  the  rough 
box,  and  all  wended  their  way  from  the  grave,  and 
back  to  the  affairs  of  everyday  life. 

On  the  fringe  of  the  crowd  were  two  small 
urchins  of  the  neighborhood,  who  stood  silent 
throughout  the  service.  When  all  were  gone,  they 
whispered  to  one  another,  then  approached  one  of 
the  men  of  the  cemetery,  and  proferred  their  re- 
quest, for  a  lone  flower,  that  had  fallen  from  the 
mass  of  bloom,  that  lay  near  the  open  grave.  An 
affirmative  nod  from  the  man,  and  they  picked  up 
their  prize  and  off  they  went,  lest  it  might  be  re- 
called. They  go  further  into  the  cemetery,  and 
come  to  the  plot,  marked  by  a  number  of  small 
white  crosses,  beneath  which  rested  the  Sisters  of 
Mercy.  Reading  the  names  of  the  various  deceased, 
they  finally  come  to  the  grave  of  one,  "Sister  Mary 


Thomas."  They  laid  the  drooping  rose  upon  her 
grave,  and  removing  their  caps,  on  bended  knees 
send  up  a  prayer  to  heaven  for  her  soul's  repose. 

^he  before  whose  grave  the  boys  knelt  had 
spent  the  few  years  of  life  granted  her,  in  the  class 
room,  plodding  on  day  by  day  in  the  hope  of  in- 
stilling lessons  of  virtue  and  love  for  God  in  the 
hearts  of  the  little  ones  entrusted  to  her  care;  dis- 
heartened and  discouraged  that  her  efforts  were 
not  blessed  with  success  she  had  prayed  often  that 
God  would  deign  to  make  fruitful  the  seeds  she  had 
planted. 

The  boys,  were  her  former  pupils,  and  the  ones 
who  caused  not  a  little  of  the  discouragement  that 
came  to  sister,  were  the  most  mischievous  of  all. 
When  anything  went  wrong  in  the  class  room,  when 
some  new  prank  was  discovered,  suspicion  usually 
fell  with  good  reason  on  the  same  two.  And  now 
when  death  had  taken  her  from  her  daily  cares, 
they  came  unbidden  to  pay  the  tribute  of  gratitude, 
reverence,  and  loyalty,  which  unknown  to  all  but 
God,  had  taken  root  and  grown  in  the  hearts  of  two 
fun  loving  boys. 


The   Labor   Probl 


em 


Rev.  R.  A.  McGowan 


III. — Strikes  and  Industrial  Peace 


■^-p-^ORKING  people  strike  because  that  is  often 
W  I  ^  the  only  way  they  can  get  a  decent  living 
\l/  for  themselves  and  their  families,  and 
decent  conditions  on  the  job.  They  do  not 
strike  because  they  like  it. 

The  working  people  in  a  trade  or  an  industry 
or  a  business  concern  decide  that  they  want  better 
wages  and  working  conditions.  They  may  be  in  a 
union  or  they  may  have  decided  it  by  talking  among 
themselves.  They  send  their  spokesman  to  the 
employers.  If  the  employers  refuse  to  meet  them, 
or  refuse  the  terms  demanded  or  a  reasonable  com- 
promise, the  employees  decide  to  work  no  longer 
for  their  employers  until  some  agreement  is  reached. 
They  go  on  strike. 

They  use  economic  force  in  striking.  The 
employer  needs  men  to  work  for  him.  Otherwise, 
he  will  not  make  any  money  and  will  probably  lose 
some  that  he  has.  If  his  employees  will  not  work 
for  him  and  he  can  get  no  others  and  if  they  can 
hold  out  long  enough,  the  employer  is  finally  com- 
pelled to  grant  all  or  a  part  of  the  demands. 

The  strike  means  hardship  to  the  employees, 
but  they  are  willing  to  bear  it  in  the  hope  that  later 
on  they  and  their  wives  and  their  children  will  have 
better  food  to  eat,  a  better  house  to  live  in,  better 
clothes  to  wear,  better  recreation,  better  chances  for 
education,  and  a  more  respected  position  in  the 
community.  They  know  that  they  have  a  certain 
dignity  as  men  and  women,  and  they  are  willing 
to  suffer  the  hardships  and  the  abuse  heaped  upon 
them  in  time  of  strike  to  get  the  employer  and  the 
public  to  recognize  their  worth  as  human  beings. 

They  will  lose  the  strike  if  the  employer  can 
hire  others  equally  competent  or  nearly  so  to  do 
their  work.  They  try,  therefore,  to  keep  the  em- 
ployer from  hiring  other  workers,  and  if  he  hires 
them  to  persuade  them  to  quit  and  join  the  strike. 
They  have  found  that  a  good  way  to  accomplish 
this  is  to  march  up  and  down  near  the  plant  and  try 
to  convince  the  strike-breakers  to  quit  employment. 
They  call  this  picketing. 

At  times  violence  breaks  out  during  a  strike. 
The  employers  or  their  agents  are  sometimes  to 
blame  for  this,  and  at  other  times  the  strikers  are 


to  blame.  The  public  authorities  are  often  at  fault, 
also,  when  they  fail  to  have  a  neutral  and  adequate 
police  force  on  guard. 

gRE  working  people  acting  within  their  rights 
when  they  strike  ?  If  they  are  to  remain  free 
men  and  women,  they  have  the  right  to  refuse 
in  a  body  to  work  for  a  certain  employer  or  group 
of  employers  when  their  cause  is  just  and  they 
cannot  settle  the  matter  in  any  other  way.  Cardinal 
O'Connell  in  a  recent  pastoral  said  to  his  people : 
"A  strike  can  be  just  and  may  be  necessary.  It  is 
man's  natural  defense.  It  existed  prior  to  the  State 
itself,  and  is  a  right  which  no  society  can  annul." 

The  possibility  of  strikes  is  fundamental  to 
freedom  of  contract  in  an  industrial  country.  Since 
employees  will  not  always  be  satisfied  with  their 
terms,  it  is  even  probable  that  there  will  be  strikes 
as  long  as  the  present  division  between  one  small 
class  of  employers  and  a  large  class  of  employees 
continues.  But  strikes  should  not  lightly  be  called 
or  voted  for.  Like  war  they  are  the  last  step  to  be 
taken,  and  they  ought  to  have  a  just  and  propor- 
tionate reason. 

Strikes  are  symptoms  of  a  disease.  They  are 
signs  of  a  grave  conflict  of  interests  between  the 
owners  of  industry  and  the  propertyless.  One 
section  owns  industry  and  uses  it  for  its  primary 
advantage.  The  other  larger  section  has  to  work 
in  industry  to  live  and  live  decently,  and  it  is  often 
unable  to  get  work  and  when  it  gets  work,  a  large 
part  does  not  receive  enough  to  live  decently.  The 
strike  is  the  clash  between  them.  It  is  tragic  not 
merely  in  the  suffering  undergone  by  employees 
and  the  general  public.  Its  deeper  significance  is 
even  more  appalling.  It  and  its  causes  are  a  stand- 
ing denial  of  brotherhood. 

But  instead  of  forbidding  strikes,  the  govern- 
ment, the  employers,  the  employees  and  the  general 
public  should  see  to  it  that  the  causes  of  strikes 
are  done  away  with.  As  a  help  towards  this,  it 
seems  well  to  establish  national  and  district  boards 
of  investigation.  Such  boards  would  investigate 
questions  of  wages,  etc.,  and  make  recommendations 
for  public  opinion  to  enforce.    These  boards  would 


THE  f 

not  forbid  strikes.  They  would  learn  and  publish 
the  facts  and  make  recommendations,  and  then  leave 
it  to  the  general  public  to  enforce  the  decision. 

^^s^O  stop  strikes  the  causes  of  strikes  must  be 
^^^  reached.  What  is  needed  most  of  all  is  a 
change  in  the  relation  of  men  to  the  things 
with  which  they  work.  Now  they  are  hired  to  work 
only  when  they  are  needed,  and  many  are  given  a 
more  or  less  harsh  and  inadequate  livelihood  when 
they  are  hired.  The  whole  relation  of  those  who 
work  must  be  changed  to  fit  less  unsatisfactorily  the 
dignity  and  worth  of  human  beings.  It  must  be  done 
however    within    the    limits    of    the    institution    of 


SIGN 

private  ownership,  for  an  era  of  common  ownership 
would  mean  greater,  and  not  less,  harm  and  wrong. 
The  first  step  appears  to  be  assured  collective 
bargaining,  and  the  larger  union  of  both  employers 
and  employees  in  associations  that  will  emphasize 
matters  of  common  interest,  such  as  the  improvement 
of  the  quantity  and  quality  of  the  work.  Greater 
industrial  peace  can  be  secured  by  the  employers 
agreeing  to  collective  bargaining,  and  then  by  the 
employers  and  employees  joining  in  associations 
where  matters  of  common  interest  will  take  the 
edge  from  bad  feeling.  This  will  not  insure  indus- 
trial peace,  but  it  will  bring  a  measure  of  peace  into 
industry. 


At  tke  Cross   Roads  of  Life 

D.  S.  L. 


nERE  we  are  at  the  cross-roads.  There  stands 
a  radiant  angel,  who  directs  all  travellers.  He 
is  Conscience.  Stand  back,  for  here  rides  the 
warrior  on  his  mettlesome  steed.  Listen!  He  asks 
for  the  road  to  fame  and  the  angel  says:  "To  the 
left,  but  do  not  go  too  far."  Another  comes  in  great 
haste.  It  is  the  statesman!  What  does  he  want? 
Oh,  it  is  power  he  wants.  "To  the  left,"  the  angel 
says,  "but  don't  go  too  far."  Again  another.  Why 
it  is  the  financier!  The  road  to  fortune,  he  demands, 
and  again  the  angel  says,  "To  the  left,  but  don't  go 
too  far."  Now  comes  a  traveller  on  foot,  a  workman 
with  his  bag  of  tools  upon  his  back,  a  child  in  his 
arms  and  a  woman  by  his  side.  "What  road  do  you 
wish?"  asks  the  angel.  "The  road  to  happiness." 
"Then  take  the  road  to  the  right,"  says  the  angel 
with  a  smile.  "At  the  end  of  the  road  you  will  find 
heaven."  The  woman,  with  the  curiosity  of  Eve, 
turns  and  asks  the  angel  whither  the  other  road  leads 
and  the  angel  answers  her:  "Ruin." 

Fame!  What  is  it?  The  most  famous  deed  in 
history,  one  that  has  been  told  for  nearly  2,000  years 
in  every  village,  hamlet  and  city  in  the  world;  yes, 
even  among  the  savage  tribes,  and  it  will  be  told  as 
long  as  the  world  lasts.  This  story  is  the  deed  of 
the  good  Samaritan,  who  found  his  fellowman 
robbed  and  wounded  and  left  on  the  highway  to 


die.  The  Samaritan  dressed  his  wounds  and  took 
him  to  the  inn  and  paid  for  his  way  until  he  was 
able  to  be  about  his  business.  If  you  would  be 
famous,  imitate  this  great  deed. 

Power!  What  is  it?  Napoleon  in  his  last  days 
said  that  the  three  most  powerful  men  were  Alex- 
ander, Caesar  and  himself.  Alexander,  he  said, 
died  a  drunkard's  death,  Caesar  fell  by  the  knives 
of  his  enemies,  and  he,  Napoleon,  on  a  barren  rock 
in  the  Pacific,  was  ending  his  days.  But  he  said: 
"Our  power  was  the  sword,  but  Christ,  whose 
weapon  was  love,  has  triumphed  and  his  great 
dominion  grows  greater  and  greater  year  by  year." 
It  is  said  that  the  massive  gates  of  heaven  swing 
open  to  the  push  of  the  strong  arm  of  a  Trappist 
monk  and  to  the  gentle  touch  of  a  little  child.  If 
you  would  be  powerful,  imitate  these. 

Riches!  What  are  they?  There  are  no  riches 
but  spiritual  riches,  for  they  alone  bring  happiness. 
An  old  Dominican  told  me  in  boyhood  that,  years 
before,  in  France,  a  committee  of  Jews  and  Gentiles, 
Catholics  and  Protestants,  Agnostics  and  Atheists, 
went  through  France  and  reported  unanimously  that 
happiness  was  found  only  where  the  ten  command- 
ments were  observed.  The  Gospel  tells  you  where 
it  is  found:  "My  Father  will  take  up  his  abode 
with  those  who  keep  His  word."  If  you  want  riches, 
take  your  lesson  from  the  Gospel. 


A  Mystery   Ckapel  in  Rome 


Rev.  Gabriel  Demey,  C.  P. 


fif 


'OR  six  hundred  years  now  there  has  been 
a  mysterious  chapel  in  Rome.  Six  hundred 
years  would  make  that  a  very  old  place, 
and  it  is  very  old  as  well  as  being  very 

mysterious ;  for  six  hundred  years  ago  when  it  began 

to  be  strange,  it  was  already  over  a  thousand  years 

old  and  rich  and  celebrated. 

But   about   six   hundred   years   ago   something 

happened   and   ever   since,   that   oratory  has   been 

silent  and  unused.     Now,  besides,  everybody  said, 

there  were  wonderful  things  in  that  chapel — riches, 

great  riches,  that 

used  to  belong  to 

the   popes   in  the 

middle  ages  when 

the  church  and  the 

popes     were      so 

wonderful  —  and 

gold     and     silver 

and   gems   and   a 

lot  of  other  things', 

e  x  t  r  a  o  r  dinary 

things,  indeed  — 

everybody     knew 

that — but  nobody 

knew    just    what. 

Whether      they 

were    things    or 

persons    one   was 

not  just  sure,  but 

whatever      they 

were — those  other  things  that  lived  there  in  the  aged 

silence    and    isolation    of   that    chapel — they   were 

surely  not  bad;  everything  that  was  there  was  good 

but  may  be  a  little  ominous  and  so — 

It  was  always  bolted  and  barred  and  nobody 

is  allowed  to  get  inside.     There   is  a  real  "keep 

out"  command   coming   from   somewhere   about   it 

but  nobody  knows  where,  for  there  are  no   signs 

up  and  no  soldier  guards  watching  and  protecting 

the  place  and  so,  may  be  all  the  really  precious 

things    were   taken    away   long    ago    and    there    is 

nothing  there  now  to  protect. 

^^^HERE  are  two  apertures,  small  and  square, 

V/y  so  cut  through  the  walls  that  you  can  look 

into  the  chapel  and  when  you  look  in  you 


can  see  it  must  be  a  very  rich  and  very  important 
place,  for  although  by  day  or  by  night  you  will 
never  see  a  Mass  nor  prayers  nor  any  kind  of 
devotions  going  on,  and  all  the  people  will  tell  you 
that,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  there  are  always  priests 
some  way  connected  with  the  chapel,  that  stillness 
and  barrenness  and  emptiness  has  been  there  all 
through  the  place  and  all  through  those  particular 
six  hundred  years,  yet  it  is  not  abandoned;  it  is 
never  used  but  it  is  always  strangely  cared  for. 

That  chapel  is  certainly  attractive  and  every- 
thing seems  to  im- 
pel you  to  go  in 
there  but  you  can- 
not; even  those 
small  apertures 
are  barred  so  that 
it  is  altogether 
irritating.  You  can 
look  in;  yes,  you 
;an  see  the  beauti- 
ful artistic  finish 
of  the  past  and 
the  evidences  of 
present  day  care, 
but  you  can  look 
also  into  the 
silence  and  the 
stillness  and  the 
emptiness  of  a 
vault  in  the 
cemetery.  And  that  has  been  the  condition  for  six 
hundred  years!  It  is  all  very  strange,  and  as  it 
were  just  to  add  to  all  this  curious  condition  the 
Chapel  has  the  haunting  name  of  the  Sancta 
Sanctorum,  that  means  the  Holy  of  Holies.  Well, 
well,  stimulant,  mystery  added  to  mystery! 

V|^E  had  heard  and  read  about  the  Scala  Sancta, 
\gj  that  is  the  Holy  Stairs.  Our  steps  were  more 
than  usually  eager,  our  conversation  sporadic, 
subdued,  intense  on  our  way  to  make  the 
pilgrim's  visit  to  that  holy  shrine.  Just  then  we 
were  interested  in  nothing  besides.  The  motly 
Roman  mobs  that  poured  from  all  the  narrow  streets 
and  eddied  into  and  crisscrossed  the  Square  of  St. 
John  Lateran  did  not  attract  us;  not  even  the  blatant 


ASILICA    OF    ST.    JOHN    LATERAN 


THE  *f  SIGN 


cries  of  the  baker  as  he  hawked  through  the  tangled 
lines  of  people  Rome's  skimpy  breakfast  perilously 
poised  on  his  head  drew  from  us  a  comment  or  a 
glance.  We  saw  as  seeing  not  just  then.  It  is  only 
now  that  these  local  tints  and  phases  come  to  mind. 

It  was  6:30  on  a  July  morning;  we  were  pre- 
possessed not  only  with  the  pilgrim  spirit  that  was 
leading  us  to  make  the  devotion  of  the  Holy  Stairs 
but  we  were  also  on  our  way  to  that  shrine  to  cele- 
brate Holy  Mass.  Yet  early  though  it  was  there 
were  others  of  the  devout  there  before  us  making 
that  devotion  and  one  at  least  was  a  citizen  of  Rome. 

But  the  subject  of  this  article  is  the  Sancta 
Sanctorum — the  chapel  of  years  of  mystery;  then 
why  bring  forth  this  pilgrimage  and  practice  of  the 

Scala  Sancta  that  __ 

is  the  Holy  Stairs 
but  it  is  not  the 
Sancta  Sanctor- 
um? That  is  a 
very  natural  ques- 
tion and  so  is  the 
Holy  Stairs  a 
very  natural  way 
to  lead  up  to  the 
Chapel  of  the 
Sancta  Sanctorum. 
It  is'  the  only  way, 
for  the  Sancta 
Sanctorum  is  the 
mystery  chapel 
beside  the  Palace 
of     St.     John 

Lateran  and  the  entrance  or  steps  leading  up  to  that 
chapel  are  called  the  Scala  Sancta. 

We  ascended  these  28  marble  steps  in  the  only 
way  that  is  permitted,  that  is  crawling  prayerfully 
on  our  knees  from  step  to  step  and  after  finishing 
our  devotions  at  the  top  we  celebrated  Mass  in  the 
adjoining  monastery. 

y^^HE  Sancta  Sanctorum  Chapel  and  its  holy 
y_  J  entrance,  the  Scala  Sancta  are  in  charge  of 
the  Passionist  Fathers  who  occupy  the  Monas- 
tery which  was  built  for  their  accomodation  by 
Pius  IX  in  1858  and  is  immediately  connected  with 
the  celebrated  oratory  on  the  south  side.  It  was 
in  one  of  the  chapels  of  this  monastery  that  we 
celebrated  Mass.  After  Mass  we  visited  the  Chapel 
of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  or  Holy  of  Holies  and 
there  listened  to  the  fascinating  story  of  this  extra- 


ordinary spot — a  story  entrancing  indeed,  but 
entirely  unkown  to  millions  of  our  Catholic  people. 
To  listen  to  its  telling  there — to  listen  as  we  looked, 
was  to  wake  from  the  sweetest  dream  and  to  find 
it  all  a  genuine  reality  of  splendors  as  gorgeous  as 
the  beauties  outside  of  heaven  can  ever  be  made, 
and  set  in  a  background  of  antiquity  that  is  so 
ancient  as  to  make  it  delightfully  confusing,  em- 
barrassing to  our  young  America's  mind;  the  real 
was  romantic  or  romance  was  reality.  The  emotion 
was  unearthly,  aerial,  celestial. 

On  entering  this  chapel  of  the  Sancta  Sanctor- 
um you  are  immediately  surrounded  by  an  undoubt- 
able  presence  of  majesty  and  this  is  not  merely 
because  history  has  set  and  woven  and  festooned 
its  walls  and  pil- 
lars and  arches 
with  popes, 
pageants  and 
patriarchs  though 
'^S^a  *\'\  j  these  rose  up 
aplenty  in  the 
moving  lines 
which  history 
wrote  here ;  nor 
because  our  eyes 
were  struck  by  the 
glare  of  gold  or 
a  profusion  of 
sculptured  orna- 
mentation, for 
these  are  not  to 
be  seen.  No;  our 
souls  were  filled  with  a  sentiment  far  removed  from 
such  material  causes;  it  was  a  subtle  and  profound 
veneration  superior  to  all  that  is  earthly  and  which 
says  in  language  more  expressive  than  any  words — 
with  the  voice  of  the  soul,  "Vere  locus  iste  sanctus 
est!"  This  spot  is  surely  holy!  And  there  as  usual, 
the  impulse  of  the  soul  rings  true  as  the  story  of 
the  Sancta  Sanctorum,  unfolded  by  that  scholarly 
Passionist  demonstrated. 


X 


'N  Rome  years  take  away  your  American  breath 
unless  you  hold  tight  on  to  it.  We  had 
recently  arrived  in  the  city  that  is  well  called 
eternal  but  even  so  we  had  already  learned  that 
lesson;  however  we  were  not  prepared  to  hear 
that  this  Chapel  of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  was  the 
domestic  chapel  of  the  Popes  for  hundreds  of 
years,   back   as   far   as   the   fourth   century   to   the 


THE  1*  SIGN 


year  313.  Yet  such  is  its  actual  history  and  this 
its  enviable  purpose.  That  interesting  Passionist 
must  have  seen  the  astonishment  and  doubt  in  our 
expression  as  we  heard  this.  We  knew  that  Popes 
about  that  time  had  private  chapels  and  they  were 
very  private  but  they  were  down  in  the  bowels  of 
the  earth,  catacombs;  so  he  added: — 

"You  Fathers  are  forgetting  that  Constantine 
not  only  freed  the  Church  from  persecution  but 
promptly  endowed  her  with  the  richest  possessions. 
One  of  the  first  of  these  munificent  acts  was  to  give 
the  Lateran  Palace  as  the  residence  of  the  Bishop 
of  Rome.  This  was  the  Pontifical  Chapel  of  that 
former  Lateran 
Palace,  the  first  or 
original  Lateran 
Palace,  the  pre- 
decessor of  the 
Lateran  Palace 
which  you  see 
standing  now  on 
your  left  in  the 
Lateran  Square. 
The  Sancta 
Sanctorum  is  the 
only  part  of  the 
ancient  palace 
that  is  standing." 

He  then  pro- 
ceeded to  give  us 
the  history  of  the 
first  Lateran  pal- 
ace. It  goes  back 
very  far  and  was 
called    after    the 

"Laterani"  one  of  the  aristocratic  families  of  pagan 
Rome.  The  Laterani  built  and  occupied  it.  The 
last  member  of  that  family  to  reside  in  it  was 
Plausius,  in  the  days  of  the  Emperor  Nero.  Plausius 
was  detected  in  the  same  conspiracy  against  the 
Emperor  as  Seneca  and  was  dispatched  after  the 
manner  of  dispatching  with  Nero,  and  all  his  goods, 
including  the  ancestral  Palace,  were  confiscated. 

^^^HE  Lateran  must  have  been  one  of  the  richest 
I  J  and  most  extensive  of  the  old  Roman  palaces. 
Juvenal  spoke  of  it  in  his  tenth  satire  as  enor- 
mous. (Aegregias  Laternorum  obsedit  aedes.)  In 
305  it  was  assigned  to  the  use  of  Fausta  the  favorite 
daughter  of  the  reigning  emperor  and  so  it  is  some- 
times called  the  palace  of  Fausta.     But  when  Con- 


Ife 

r 

■  f*   **&}  & 

wk 

..-*;' 

■  i 

Ellf 

IN^tl 

f    2 

?'/£&  wS9H 

'Tr-rjsgaf'r 

1 

stantine  came  to  Rome  as  emperor  he  abandoned 
the  ancient  palace  of  the  Caesars  on  the  Palatine, 
ended  the  line  of  the  pagan  rulers  of  Rome  and 
made  his  home  in  the  Lateran  Palace.  Very  soon 
thereafter,  though  the  exact  year  is  not  quite  certain, 
the  Lateran  became  the  abode  of  the  Popes.  From 
that  time  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  dates  back  as  the 
private  chapel  of  His  Holiness  and  it  continued  as 
such  till  1589;  that  is  for  nearly  thirteen  hundred 
years  this  Sancta  Sanctorum  was  the  private  chapel 
of  the  succeeding  Popes.  There  the  Vicar  of  Jesus 
Christ  celebrated  quietly  his  private  Masses;  there 
that  long  line  of  saintly  men  performed  their 
devotions;  there  is 
the  altar  and  the 
tabernacle  where- 
unto  their  weighed 
down  shoulders 
carried  the  bur- 
dens and  their 
quick  steps  the 
triumphs  and  they 
told  the  stories  of 
the  joys  and  the 
sorrows  and  the 
fears  of  the  uni- 
versal church. 
There  is  solemni- 
ty, indeed.    Truly 


THE  SCALA  SANCTA  OR  HOLY  STAIRS 


this     is 
place. 

But 
thought 


a     holy 


another 
pushed 

itself  forward;  it  was  the  appreciation  as  never 
before  so  keen,  of  the  folly  of  all  human  effort 
against  the  Lord  and  against  His  Christ  and  against 
His  Church  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other  the 
gentle  but  constant  play  of  His  Almighty  and  Eternal 
Power,  which  (I  had  almost  said  "smilingly")  turns 
the  instrumentalities  of  the  opposition  and  their 
works  to  co-operate  in  His  Own  wise  time  to  His 
Own  wise  purposes — to  His  own  honor  and  glory. 
As  He  turned  the  Pantheon  and  this  extraordinary 
sanctuary  utterly  aside  from  the  intent  of  their 
builders  in  the  days  of  pagan  Rome,  and  as  we  and 
millions  who  are  gone  testify  to  this  and  similar 
things,  so  minds  shall  marvel  in  the  future  to  see 
the  vast  and  beautiful  piles  now  being  constructed  in 
different  parts  of  the  world  turned  to  purposes  far 


THE  1*  SIGN 


other  than  those  of  their  projectors — the  purposes 
of  the  God  Who  knows  no  years  and  in  Whose 
Almighty  Hands  man  and  his  doings  and  all  things 
else  are  plastic. 

^I^^HERE  is  sublime  influence  behind  thoughts 
V_J  like  these  and  we  knew  that  it  came  from 
the  subtle  majesty  of  this  place.  Subtle, 
indeed,  for  it  does  not  rise  from  the  vast  extent  of 
this  sanctuary.  The  Sancta  Sanctorum  is  not  vast; 
it  is  surprisingly  small,  smaller,  indeed,  than  we 
had  thought;  its  limited  space  was  one  of  the  most 
surprising  elements  which  contributed  to  make  this 
visit  one  of  delightful  surprises.  In  comparison  to 
the  Sancta  Sanctorum  the  domestic  chapels  in  the 
palaces  of  the  ancient  crowned  heads  of  Europe  are 
really  large.  The  regal  chapel  of  the  Hungarian 
palace  in  Buda-Peste  could  well  be  called  a  church, 
the  chapel  of  the  Austrain  Imperial  family  in 
Schoenbrunn  Palace  in  Vienna  will  accomodate  a 
good  sized  congregation  and  so  La  S  Chappelle  in 
Paris,  though  little,  it  is  four  times  as  large  as  the 
Papal  chapel  of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum.  With  the 
exception  of  an  alcove-like  space,  called  the  apse, 
and  which  is  occupied  by  the  altar,  the  Popes'  chapel 
here  is  a  square  of  less  than  25  feet. 

But  this  mysterious  chapel  is  very  beautiful. 
The  gravity,  the  simplicity,  the  harmony  of  its  pure 
lines  make  it  a  little  picture  or  a  gem  of  architecture 
of  the  gothic  family.  It  could  not  be  anything  else 
but  perfect  in  art  and  architecture  not  only  because 
it  was  the  chapel  of  the  Popes  who  are  the  world 
builders,  but  it  was  always  under  the  care  of  the 
greatest  living  masters  in  architecture  and  in  art. 

"Do  you  not  think  it  is  exquisite?"  asked  our 
priestly  guide.    We  answered,  "Yes,  but  it  is  small." 

"Oh,  yes,  it  is  small;  "the  Sancta  Sanctorum  is 
very  small,  indeed,"  he  assented,  but  he  hastened 
to  add,  "Still  it  is  very  great."  "This  sanctuary  is 
great  in  importance  and  in  dignity,  great  in  its  riches, 
but  in  its  holiness  it  is  pre-eminent."  He  put  forth 
this  apology  with  characteristic  style  and  with  the 
confidence  and  enthusiasm  of  the  man  who  knows 
and  is  sure  of  his  ground.  That  Passionist  knew 
his  ground  and  every  inch  of  it.  He  was  not  only 
a  scholar  of  unusual  ability  but  he  was  at  that  time 
making  a  special  study  of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum 
and  of  all  its  treasures  and  he  was  besides  the  official 
custodian  of  the  mysterious  and  interesting  little 
place. 


y?<E  reminded  us  that  it  was  venerable  not  merely 
I  P  because  for  so  many  centuries  it  had  been  the 
private  chapel  of  the  August  High  Priest  of 
the  Lord  but  also  because,  notwithstanding  its 
diminutive  proportions,  it  enjoyed  the  dignity  and 
position  of  a  basilica  and  was  therefore  on  an  equal 
footing  with  the  greatest  christian  temples  in  the 
world;  that  within  those  walls  some  of  the  most 
important  ecclesiastical  functions  of  history  had 
taken  place.  In  that  small  chapel  the  first  council 
ever  held  within  the  famous  Lateran  walls  had 
been  conducted  and  that  was  as  far  back  as  313 
under  Pope  Melchiades.  St.  Augustine  refers  to  a 
fact  which  transpired  in  that  very  council.  The  cause 
of  Cicilianus,  Bishop  of  Carthage,  was  brought  be- 
fore this  body,  and  resulted  in  the  condemnation  of 
Donatus.  It  is  on  this  finding  that  the  saint  makes 
the  remark  that  Donatus  and  not  the  poor  bishop, 
was  the  cause  of  all  the  trouble. 

The  very  important  position  held  by  the  Ponti- 
fical Basilica  in  the  estimation  of  the  Church  will 
appear  from  this  that  it  has  been  decorated  with  the 
honor  and  dignity  of  the  Golden  Rose.  This  is  an 
ecclesiastical  privilege  which  goes  back  as  far  as 
Pope  Leo  IX. 

^^^HE  Golden  Rose  is  blessed  with  great 
V_J  solemnity  on  the  fourth  Sunday  of  Lent  each 
year  and  is  valued  by  its  fortunate  recipient 
not  for  the  worth  of  its  metal  nor  for  the  delicate 
artistry  with  which  it  is  executed  but  because  it  is 
a  testimonial  of  the  highest  appreciation  that  the 
Church  is  accustomed  to  express.  It  is  conferred 
on  some  member  of  the  Catholic  Royalty-king, 
queen,  prince,  or  on  some  personage  of  extraordinary 
worth  as  a  reward  of  great  service  done  for  Christ 
and  the  Church;  perhaps  it  is  given  to  a  city  or 
republic  for  its  conspicuous  activity.  But  occasion- 
ally it  has  been  bestowed  on  some  church  or  sanctu- 
ary as  a  special  token  of  the  Holy  Father's  devotion. 
This,  however,  is  not  done  very  often.  In  Rome  St. 
Peter's  has  received  this  honor  four  or  five  times, 
St.  John  Lateran  twice,  the  Basilica  Liberiano  twice, 
but  this  mysterious  chapel  of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum 
has  been  the  recipient  of  this  exalted  testimonial 
of  devotion,  the  Golden  Rose,  on  four  different 
occasions :  in  1443  from  Eugene  IV,  in  1530  from 
Clement  VII,  in  1567  from  St.  Pius  V,  and  in  1610 
from  Paul  V. 

( To  be  continued) 


Saints   and  Sinners 

Luis   Coloma,  S.  J. 

Copyrighted  1922,  by  The  Sign 


SYNOPSIS  OF  PREVIOUS   INSTALLMENTS: 

Scene  in  a  Catholic  College  outside  Madrid  on  the  day  of  the  closing-exercises  of  tne  year.  Luis,  having 
read  the  valedictory  poem  and  gathered  up  his  prizes  looks  in  vain  for  his  mother's  face  among  the  crowds  of 
parents  and  friends  of  the  other  students.  Some  sympathetic  women  draw  away  in  horror  when  they  learn 
that  he  is  the  son  of  the  Countess  of  Albornoz.  A  groom  arrives  late  with  a  coach  to  take  the  young  student 
to  his  home. 

Another  scene  in  the  drawing  room  of  the  Duchess  of  Bara  showing  the  leaders  of  Madrid  society  in 
the  midst  of  their  intrigues  for  the  return  of  the  ex-Queen  Isabel  and  her  family  who  are  now  in  exile  in 
Paris,  and  the  expulsion  of  King  Amadeo,  the  Savoyard  prince  who  has  been  occupying  the  Spanish  throne 
in  the  interim.  They  have  discovered  that  one  of  the  old  Spanish  grandees  has  permitted  her  name  to  be  sug- 
gested to  the  Italian  Queen  as  first  lady-in-waiting.  This  is  the  result  of  the  intriguing  of  Curra  the  Countess 
of  Albornoz  who  fancies  that  the  ex-Queen  in  Paris  has  insulted  her  and  desires  revenge,  and  also  to  obtain  the 
position  of  secretary  to  the  present  monarch  for  her  young  friend  John  Velarde.  In  the  face  of  the  indignation 
aroused  Curra  attempts  to  deny  her  part  in  the  intrigue.  She  has  no  time  to  give  to  her  little  son  Luis  and 
passes  him  on  to  her  servants. 

The  Government  in  anger  at  the  Countess'  treachery  demands  that  she  fulfil  her  agreement  to  accept  the 
position  at  court.  She  tricks  the  Minister  of  the  Interior  and  destroys  the  letter  that  compromises  her,  where- 
upon the  police  are  sent  to  break  forcibly  into  her  house  and  carry  off  all  her  papers  under  the  charge  that  she 
has  been  conspiring  to  overthrow  the  Government.  Her  friends  and  partisans  hurry  to  her  house  and  the 
outrage  ends  in  a  sort  of  picnic  party. 

But  among  the  letters  carried  off  by  the  police  there  was  a  certain  package  from  an  old  lover  of  the  Countess, 
and  as  it  was  necessary  for  the  police  to  return  these  papers,  the  scheme  was  hit  upon  of  returning  these 
letters  to  her  husband  with  a  note  calling  his  attention  to  their  very  compromising  contents.  Curra  having 
forgotten  to  destroy  the  letters  when  the  evening  before  she  had  prepared  for  the  raid  upon  her  house  now  felt 
that  some  satisfaction  was  due  to  her  standing,  particularly  as  the  Amadist  newspapers  had  printed  articles 
reflecting  on  her  respectability  and  the  courage  of  her  husband.  She  chooses  her  friend  John  Velarde  to 
challenge  the  editor  of  an  insulting  reference,  assuring  him  that  it  will  be  a  mere  formality  of  shots  in  the  air, 
and  arranging  a  breakfast  for  him  immediately  after  the  meeting.  John  Velarde,  a  type  of  the  well-educated 
but  erring  young  Spaniard,  is  shot  dead  at  the  first  fire. 

The  Countess  pretends  that  she  had  tried  to  prevent  John  Velarde  from  fighting  the  duel ;  his  death  has 
utterly  prostrated  his  mother.  The  lottery  ticket  which  he  purchased  shortly  before  his  death  has  won  a  prize 
and  the  Countess'  servant,  Kate,  who  was  sent  to  gather  up  his  letters  so  as  to  keep  the  Countess'  correspondence 
fro/n  falling  again  into  the  hands  of  the  police,  brings  the  ticket  back  to  her  mistress.  She  collects  $15,000.  and 
sends  it  to  Velarde's  mother,  pretending  that  it  is  a  donation  from  the  Duke  and  herself.  The  mother  scenting 
the  nature  of  Curra,  promptly  returns  the  money  without  a  word. 

The  scene  then  shifts  to  the  Grand  Hotel  in  Paris  where  Jacob  Tellez  arrives  from  Constantinople,  where 
he  has  been  ambassador  for  the  Amadist  King.  He  meets  Diogenes  who  tells  him  of  the  flight  of  the  Italian  prince 
from  Spain,  and  also  attracts  the  favorable  attention  of  Curra.  Other  arrivals  are  the  typical  Spanish  dandy 
Uncle  Frasquito,  and  the  wife  of  the  rich  Lopez  Moreno  who  has  escaped  the  Spanish  mobs.  The  Duchess  of 
Bara  plays  a  political  game  in  offering  to  present  the  banker's  wife  to  Ex-Queen  Isabel,  so  that  she  may  give 
the  former  Majesty  the  news  from  her  lost  kingdom. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

v — f'ACOB  TELLEZ  was  of  the  opinion  that  he  causes  vertigo  in  the  brain,  and  hurls  a  man  into  a 

ff    L  had  been  born  at  the  wrong  time  and  in  the  thousand  infamies,  in  constant  search  of  new  pleas- 

^^^  wrong  place.     In  the  French  Revolution,  he  ures  to  arouse  his  deadened  sensuality, 

was  persuaded,  that,  he  would  have  been  either  a  There  are  few  things  so  dangerous  for  a  man 

Mirabeau,  because  of  his  talents,  or  else  a  Lafayette,  as  to  pass  through  the  illusions  of  a  lifetime  in  a 

because  of  his  bravery.    But  in  the  Spanish  Revolu-  short  period  of  his  life;  and  Jacob,  with  that  frantic 

tion  of  1868,  he  had  been,  in  the  opinion  of  those  desire  for  pleasure  and  excitement  which  pervades 

who  knew  him,  but  a  poor  politician  and  an  egregi-  society,  which  fears  to  put  off  till  the  morrow  the 

ous  fool  as  a  political  leader.  pleasures   which   it   can   enjoy   today,   had   passed 

This  revolutionary  gentleman  had  not  descended  rapidly  from  youth  to  complete  maturity  in  evil — 

from  the  aristocratic  circles  in  which  he  had  been  he  had  made  the  journey  in  less  than  thirty  years, 

born  to  the  plebeian  circles  in  which  he  had  after-  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  disembarrassed  of  tutors 

wards  moved,   by   any   sudden   fall   or  rapid,   dis-  and  teachers,  he  had  been  one  of  the  most  gallant 

integrating  process.     He  had  slipped  down  slowly,  youths  who  ever  aspired  to  a  barber's  razor,  and  to 

gliding  down  the  incline  which  leads  from  pleasure  lead  cotillons  at  the  Court.     At  twenty  he  was  a 

to  vice,  from  vice  to  aberration,  aberration  to  dis-  successful  Don  Juan  with  an  unsavory  reputation, 

gust,  and  that  terrible  emptiness  of  the  heart  which  who  paraded  his  objectionable   adventures   in   the 


THE  +  SIGN 


Veloz  Club.  At  twenty-five,  he  was  an  elegant  and 
aristocratic  profligate,  eager  for  a  duel,  a  bet  of 
twenty  thousand  dollars,  or  any  wild  adventure. 
He  flung  his  wife's  millions  away  to  right  and  left. 
At  thirty,  he  wept  like  Alexander  that  there  were 
no  more  worlds  of  vice  to  be  conquered,  his  heart 
hardened,  his  brain  dulled  by  the  premature  riot  of 
his  passions,  he  was  but  a  rotten  fruit  which  had 
never  really  ripened,  a  worthless  ruin  of  vice  and 
impiety,  who  had  wrecked  his  home  by  his  reckless 
prodigalities.  Through  a  fever  of  restlessness  and 
boredom,  he  had  become  a  politician.  Garibaldi 
had  initiated  him  into  the  Masonic  lodges  in  Italy, 
and  in  England  the  Spanish  revolutionaries  had 
inveigled  him  into  plots  against  the  Spanish  throne. 
The  Revolution  triumphed,  and  Jacob  succeeded 
to  the  illusions  and  intoxications  of  victory,  as  mobs 
carried  him  on  their  shoulders,  won  by  his  verbal 
felicities,  his  elegance  and  beauty,  and  vowed  to 
send  him  to  the  Parliament  to  defend  their  liberties 
— him,  the  dainty  aristocrat,  renegade  but  in  name, 
who  jeered  at  them  behind  their  backs,  calling  them 
idiots,  clowns,  and  asses,  and  who  washed  the 
stenches  of  the  canaille  from  his  hands  with  disgust 
as  soon  as  he  had  finished  shaking  hands  with  them. 
But  it  was  not  long  before  a  black  vista  opened  in 
his  life,  before  which  even  slander  fled  terrified, 
for  fear  of  falling  into  a  pool  of  blood. 


ONE  day  General  Prim,  the  leader  of  the  Revo- 
lution, was  shot  in  the  streets  of  the  capital. 
His  most  intimate  friend,  Jacob  Tellez,  Mar- 
quis of  Sabadell,  suddenly  disappeared  from  sight 
at  the  very  moment  when  the  rumor  spread  that 
Prim  was  not  mortally  wounded,  and  that  appalling 
revelations  had  escaped  from  him.  But  Prim  died, 
carrying  to  his  grave  the  key  of  the  mystery.  Three 
months  later  it  was  announced  that  the  Marquis  of 
Sabadell  had  been  appointed  Ambassador  of  Spain 
at  Constantinople  by  the  new  king. 

"I  feel,"  the  newly-appointed  ambassador  wrote 
to  his  government,  "that  Oriental  life  appeals  to  me 
particularly,  and  that  I  can  indulge  my  illusions  in 
Cairo,  Bagdad,  and  Constantinople." 

The  illusions  referred  to  soon  bore  strange  fruit. 
One  morning,  the  wife  of  the  Cadi  did  not  appear 
at  her  window  to  gaze  over  the  mountains  of  Asia, 
and  the  door  of  her  apartments  remained  closed. 
There  was  a  rumor  in  the  palace  that  a  groan  had 
been  heard  the  evening  before,  and  that  two 
shadows,  which  wandered  through  the  ghostly 
corridors,  had  carried  away  some  dark  object.  The 
sentinel  on  a  tower  by  the  Sea  of  Marmora  had 
heard  a  splash  in  the  dark  water. 

y^HE  following  day  the  body  of  a  strangled 
l^  )  eunuch  had  been  found  on  the  shore  of  the 
^"^  Bosphorus.  The  ambassador  had  not  seen 
this,  for  he  had  fled  from  Constantinople  that  night, 


with  but  a  bag  for  luggage;  and  with  this  bag  we 
have  already  seen  Jacob  arrive  at  the  Grand  Hotel, 
after  spending  two  dark  months  in  the  lodges  and 
gambling  hells  of  Italy.  Now  he  had  a  room  on  the 
fourth  floor  of  the  hotel,  which  cost  twelve  francs 
a  day,  luxurious  for  one  who  possessed  in  the  entire 
world  nothing  but  a  debt  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  dollars  at  fifteen  per  cent. 

Here  Jacob  feverishly  read  the  Spanish  journals 
with  their  reports  of  the  political  changes  in  Spain. 
He  cursed  frequently,  and  finally  tossed  the  papers 
aside  in  a  violent  rage.  For  a  long  time  he  sat  silent 
in  his  chair,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  fire  in  the  grate, 
whose  flames  cast  a  lurid  glow  on  his  countenance. 
He  looked  like  a  man  planning  some  crime,  and 
had  also  decided  on  one  when  he  suddenly  leapt  up, 
pounding  the  arm  of  his  chair  with  his  clenched 
hand.  The  mirror  above  the  mantel-piece  reflected 
his  twisted  countenance,  and  noticing  his  distorted 
face,  he  was  for  a  moment  overcome  with  one  of 
those  sudden,  violent  frights  which  pluck  the  wings 
of  daredevil  courage  with  a  single  stroke. 

He  looked  behind  him.  In  an  alcove  a  curtain 
stirred.  He  leapt  at  it  quickly,  tore  it  aside,  and 
then,  with  a  laugh  for  his  childish  fear,  wandered 
over  to  the  bureau  at  the  other  end  of  the  room.  His 
dispatch-case  lay  open  on  top  of  it,  and  in  a  drawer 
of  the  bureau  he  had  locked  his  papers.  He  opened 
the  drawer,  and  taking  out  the  large  official-looking 
letter,  laid  it  on  a  small  table  in  the  middle  of  the 
room. 


QSTEP  resounded  in  the  hall  outside,  and 
Jacob  ran  to  the  door  on  tiptoe,  listened  for 
a  moment,  and  then  quietly  locked  it.  He 
then  picked  up  a  small  knife,  with  a  fine  sharp 
blade,  and  heated  it  carefully  in  the  fire. 

But  he  still  hesitated,  listening  cautiously  to 
the  sounds  that  penetrated  from  the  Boulevard. 
Then  of  a  sudden  decided.  He  carefully  inserted 
the  blade  under  the  waxen  seal  and  with  great  skill 
loosened  it  completely,  leaving  it  intact  so  that  it 
could  be  stuck  on  again  without  possibility  of  detec- 
tion. He  placed  the  seal  with  caution  on  a  piece  of 
white  paper  on  a  corner  of  the  table. 

The  mysterious  letter  was  open,  and  Jacob 
began  to  read  it.  It  was  written  in  Italian,  in  the 
same  large  handwriting  as  the  address,  was  short, 
and  signed  by  Victor  Emmanuel.  Inside  the 
envelope  were  two  other  blank  envelopes,  sealed 
with  the  insignia  of  the  Freemasons  upon  green 
sealing  wax,  a  compass  and  square  in  the  form  of  a 
pentagraph. 

Jacob  inspected  these  carefully,  and  then  with 
equal  skill  loosened  these  seals  from  their  places. 
The  first  envelope  contained  a  very  closely  written 
letter  in  the  same  handwriting  as  the  previous  letter 
and  address.  Jacob  read  this  slowly,  without  mani- 
festing any  surprise,  as  though  he  already  was  well 
acquainted  with  its  contents.     Finally  he  turned  to 


THE  +  SIGN 


the  last  envelope,  which  was  heavy  and  more 
voluminous.  Two  blank  documents  fell  out  of  it, 
and  then  a  third,  upon  which  was  written  a  name 
which  made  Jacob  start  and  utter  one  of  those  gross 
oaths,  common  in  moments  of  surprise  even  to  the 
most  cultured.  He  was  terrified;  his  heart  beat, 
his  knees  shook  under  him,  and  he  read  the  papers 
again  and  again  with  all  the  frightened  eagerness 
of  a  child  who  suddenly  finds  himself  in  the  posses- 
sion of  the  fabulous  riches  of  a  giant.  Twice  he 
glanced  cautiously  at  the  door,  as  though  he  thought 
to  find  it  open  in  spite  of  the  key  which  locked  it 
from  the  inside. 

He  had  before  him  an  arsenal  of  compromising 
papers,  important  because  of  the  names  signed  to 
them.  It  was  a  treasure  of  infinite  value  which, 
carefully  managed,  could  ruin  all  the  revolutionary 
politicians  in  Spain  in  a  short  time.  They  were 
letters  of  exchange  payable  at  sight,  which  anyone 
could  collect  either  in  influence  or  in  money. 


^t^HEN  Jacob  had  finished  his  perusal  of  the 
vly  Papers,  he  was  pale,  and  the  cautious  glances 
^*S  which  he  threw  around  him  showed  the  fear 
which  every  criminal  feels,  that  prying  eyes  are 
watching  him.  He  rose  and  walked  up  and  down 
the  room.  The  light  of  the  candles  annoyed  him, 
and  he  blew  them  out.  Then  he  opened  a  window 
wide,  and  leaned  out.  It  was  bitterly  cold,  but  the 
Paris  crowds  defied  the  inclemency  of  the  weather, 
and  thronged  the  boulevards,  a  restless,  impatient 
mass  which  wandered  incessantly  like  a  reprobate 
soul  condemned  by  God  to  an  eternal  feast. 

His  eyes  blurred  by  the  eddies  of  the  crowd 
and  the  thousand  lights  which  played  over  the 
boulevards,  Jacob  turned  over  in  his  mind  various 
plans  through  which  he  might  profit  by  his  posses- 
sion of  these  compromising  documents.  Yet  how 
avoid  the  suspicion  of  this  theft?  How  cast  the 
blame  on  some  other  than  himself?  How  explain 
his  act  to  the  outraged  monarch's  angry  accusations  ? 
He  laughed  many  times  at  the  ridiculous  masquerad- 
ing of  the  lodges,  but  through  them  all  had  run  that 
mysterious  menace  which  he  had  heretofore  inter- 
preted lightly  but  which  now  filled  him  with  fear : — 

"Neckan!"    "Vengeance!" 

He  must  act  carefully.  Yet  he  must  decide 
immediately.  And  as  though  he  might  find  in  move- 
ment some  of  those  inspirations  which  come  to  one 
in  turning  the  corners  of  streets,  he  rushed  out  into 
the  air,  first  carefully  locking  the  papers  in  the 
bureau.  He  walked  up  the  Boulevard  des  Capucines, 
down  the  Boulevard  de  la  Madeleine,  and  after 
wandering  for  hours  through  the  streets,  at  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  he  returned  to  the  hotel 
weary  and  still  without  a  plan.  For  Jacob,  for  all 
his  audacity,  was  one  of  those  irresolute  people  in 
whom  prolonged  thought,  far  from  clarifying  his 
ideas,  seems  merely  to  confuse  the  more,  exasperat- 


ing and  bridling  the  will,  which  of  a  sudden  breaks 
loose  from  the  mind's  control  at  the  most  inop- 
portune and  dangerous  time. 

An  old  man  was  limping  up  the  stairway, 
enveloped  in  a  long  cloak.  Sabadell  took  this  to  be 
Uncle  Frasquito,  and  hurried  up  the  stairs  to  over- 
take him.  But  the  old  man  seeing  that  he  was 
followed,  drew  himself  into  the  collar  of  his  cloak, 
and  hiding  something  which  he  had  in  his  hand  in 
his  pocket,  hurried  on  and  rushed  into  the  room 
next  to  Jacob's.  The  latter,  startled  and  suspicious, 
and  doubting  if  this  were  Uncle  Frasquito,  entered 
his  own  room. 


gT  one  side  of  the  room  was  a  small  door  cut 
into  the  partition  which  divided  what  had 
once  been  a  single  room  into  two,  and  which 
was  secured  by  a  bolt  on  each  side.  Jacob  ap- 
proached the  door  on  tiptoe,  and  listened  cautiously. 
He  heard  his  neighbor  strike  a  match  and  lock  the 
hall  door.  Then  he  heard  soft  steps  approaching 
the  little  door,  and  the  bolt  on  the  other  side  slid 
back  slowly.  Jacob  jumped  back,  startled,  and 
threw  a  hasty  glance  at  the  bureau  which  held  the 
papers.  He  drew  a  revolver  out  of  his  pocket. 
His  neighbor  was  spying  on  him,  and  his  heated 
imagination  visioned  the  traitor  Mason,  with  the 
daggers  of  all  the  lodges  of  Italy  pointed  at  him, 
determined  to  regain  their  precious  papers.  The 
bolt  creaked  again.  His  neighbor  was  either  draw- 
ing it  or  securing  it,  and  as  he  naturally  thought  it 
drawn,  he  suspected  that  his  neighbor  wanted  to 
try  the  door.  The  door,  painted  with  care,  did  not 
have  a  hole  or  a  crack  through  which  one  could  see. 
The  soft  steps  were  heard  again,  this  time 
retreating,  and  Jacob  drew  near,  attentive,  with  his 
revolver  aimed.  Presently  there  was  a  suspicious 
cough.  It  was  not  the  soft  and  dainty  cough  of 
Uncle  Frasquito,  but  the  asthmatic  cough  of  an  old 
man.  His  uneasiness  was  increased  by  another 
strange  sound.  He  heard  a  sharp  metallic  noise, 
like  a  dagger's  blade  scraping  along  a  marble  sur- 
face. Perhaps  the  old  man  was  sharpening  the 
point;  or  poisoning  it! 

^^^HEN  there  was  silence.  Then  again  soft  steps 
l^J  moved  about  in  different  directions,  toward 
^""^  the  door  and  away  from  it.  Then,  as  the  hotel 
clock  struck  three,  a  thud  was  heard  as  when  a 
heavy  body  falls  on  a  mattress;  then  a  prolonged 
sigh  and  a  yawn,  which  set  Jacob's  uneasiness  at 
rest.  A  criminal  about  to  commit  murder  does  not 
begin  by  yawning. 

Tranquillized,  he  placed  the  revolver  on  the 
table,  and  gave  himself  up  again  to  a  delighted 
perusal  of  the  papers.  Suddenly  he  leapt  from  his 
seat,  and  seized  his  revolver.  In  the  next  room, 
he  had  heard  the  sound  of  a  violent  leap,  hurried 
footsteps,  wild  knockings  at  the  door,  and  a  terrified 


1 1 


THE  f  SIGN 


voice  which  shrieked  in  Spanish:  "Help!  Help!' 
Then  he  heard  a  groan,  and  the  voice  shrieked  ii 
French : — 

"Au  seceurs!    An  secours!" 


CHAPTER   XIV 

aNCLE  Frasquito  was  in  bad  temper  when  he 
returned  to  his  hotel  that  night.  He  had 
spent  a  dull  and  sombre  evening  among  the 
exclusive  gentry  of  the  Union  Club,  and  had  been 
bored  to  tears.  He  had  often  complained  of  tooth- 
ache before,  and  on  this  occasion  he  showed  with 
a  sad  gesture  a  fine  set  of  teeth,  even  as  the  keys 
of  a  piano,  for  which  he  had  paid  ten  thousand 
francs  to  Ernest,  the  famous  dentist  of  Napoleon 
III.  He  complained  that 
he  suffered  acutely  even 
with  such  fine  teeth,  tak- 
ing pains  not  to  add  that 
his  real  trouble  lodged 
in  an  overlooked  molar, 
his  only  real  tooth,  which 
existed  in  solitary  state 
like  a  milestone  in  the 
desert  of  his  gums. 

When  he  left  the 
Club,  the  cold  air  pained 
his  fossil  tooth,  and  he 
hurried  back  to  the  hotel 
to  gargle  with  a  potion 
which  alone  would  pre- 
vent his  having  a  sleep- 
less night.  Half  way  up 
the  stairs,  he  gazed  cauti- 
ously around,  and  seeing 
no  one  who  might  dis- 
cover his  secret,  he 
hastily  took  out  his  set 
of  false  teeth  and  hid 
them  in  his  handkerchief. 
This  relieved  the  pain, 
but  gave  his  face  the  ap- 
pearance    of     a     mere 

caricature  of  its  former  self.  Uncle  Frasquito's 
room  was  on  the  fourth  floor,  and  when  he  had 
reached  the  second,  he  noticed  that  some  one 
was  following  him  upstairs.  He  hurried  on,  noticing 
that  it  was  the  Marquis  Sabadell,  who  was  mounting 
the  stairs  two  steps  at  a  time  with  the  manifest 
intention  of  catching  up  with  him.  What  a  hurry 
the  man  was  in!  Frasquito  drew  his  face  into  the 
fur  collar  of  his  cloak,  hid  the  set  of  teeth  in  his 
pocket,  and  ran  up  the  stairs  until  he  reached  his 
door,  completely  out  of  breath. 

Sabadell  had  followed  him,  and  had  stopped 
at  the  door  of  his  room,  looking  him  over  from  head 
to  foot,  surprised,  suspicious,  but  without  approach- 
ing him. 

"He  is  on  to  me!"     thought  Uncle  Frasquito. 


"Everybody  in  Paris  will  know  by  to-morrow  that 
I  haven't  any  teeth!" 

He  entered  his  room  hastily,  struck  a  light,  and 
hurried  to  bolt  the  little  communicating  door,  lest 
his  neighbor  should  continue  to  spy  on  him.  This 
seemed  to  be  his  intention,  for  Uncle  Frasquito 
overheard  distinct  noises  in  the  next  room,  which 
startled  and  upset  him.  But  there  was  not  a  crack 
in  the  door  through  which  anyone  could  see,  and  this 
partially  relieved  him.  He  gargled  his  mouth,  and 
his  toothache  disappeared  completely.  He  then 
cleaned  his  set  of  teeth  with  a  silver-handled  brush, 
which  hitting  against  the  marble  of  the  wash-stand, 
gave  out  a  metallic  sound.  Uncle  Frasquito  com- 
menced to  take  off  his  various  impedimenta  before 
retiring,  after  having  made  a  third  voyage  of  dis- 
covery to  the  little  door. 
His  neighbor  was  quiet. 


Heaven 

Nicholas  Ward,  C.  P. 


Tho'  sometimes  the  vJa$  has  been  dreary 
And  toilsome  the  path  I  [\a\>e  trod, 

Full  soon  1  shall  be  where  tke  weary 

Find  rest  in  tke  arms  of  tkeir  God. 

How  blissful  will  tken  be  tke  meeting 

Of  all  tke  dear  friends  of  tke  Lord! 

Compared  vJitk  its  raptures  kov?  fleeting 
Tke  pleasures  tke  w"orld  can  afford. 

Ok!  sweet  is  tke  tkougkt  tkat  I  ne\>er 
Skall  lea\>e  tke  brigkt  city  above; 

I  skall  dvJell  vCitk  my  Saviour  forever, 
Eternally  blest  in  His  love. 


EJ 


E  took  off  his  per- 
fumed   wig,    and 
placed   a   pyrami- 
dal   nightcap    upon    his 
head,  ending   in  a  little 
tassle.  Enveloped  finally, 
after  a  half  hour  of  un- 
dressing, in  a  nightgown 
and   this   night   cap,   he 
jumped  into  bed,  and  by 
the    light    of    a    candle, 
began  to  read  a  romantic 
tale  of  Vizconde  d'Arlic- 
court.      A     sleepy    nod 
made  him  bang  his  nose 
on  the  night  table  next 
his  bed;  the  novel  fell  to 
the  floor.     He  bent  over 
to  pick  the  book  up,  as 
he  wished  to  finish  the 
chapter  he  was  reading. 
A     little     later     he 
smelt   a   strong  odor   of 
burning    linen.      He    sat 
up    hastily,    and    looked 
around.     He  could  see  nothing  on  fire.     He  looked 
around   the   room,   under   the   pillow,   between   the 
blankets — absolutely  nothing  on  fire! 

Perhaps    something   had    fallen    into   the   fire- 
place, a  handkerchief  or  a  sock.    He  jumped  out  of 
bed  and  looked  at  the  fireplace.    Again  nothing! 
"How  peculiar!" 

He  thought  that  the  fire  might  be  in  the  next 
room  or  in  the  corridor.  He  ran  to  the  outside  door, 
to  the  communicating  door  between  the  rooms,  with- 
out finding  any  signs  of  a  fire;  but  he  noticed  as  he 
passed  from  one  side  of  the  room  to  the  other,  that 
the  alarming  odor  was  yet  more  distinct. 

"What  can  be  burning,  in  heaven's  name? 
It's  like  some  magical  trick!"  said  Uncle  Frasquito, 
standing  in  the   center  of   the   room,   and   sniffing 


THE  +  SIGN 


suspiciously.  Then  he  thought  he  felt  that  the  top 
of  his  head  was  growing  hot.  He  looked  up  at  the 
ceiling.  Nothing  there!  He  turned  round,  and  a 
cry  of  horror  escaped  him  as  he  caught  his  reflection 
in  a  mirror.  Crowning  the  nightcap  on  his  head 
was  a  small  red  flame.    The  fire  was  there! 

The  fear  which  seized  upon  Uncle  Frasquito 
drove  all  reason  from  him.  He  did  not  understand 
that  when  he  had  bent  over  to  pick  up  his  book, 
he  had  ignited  his  nightcap  by  the  candle  on  the 
table.  He  completely  lost  his  head,  rang  the  electric 
bell,  shrieked  for  help,  and  pounding  on  Jacob's 
door,  cried:  "Ausecours!     Au  secours!" 

The  little  door  was  burst  open  violently,  and 
here  stood  Jacob,  a  revolver  in  his  hand.  He  did 
not  recognize  Uncle  Frasquito  in  this  apparition, 
and  would  not  have  done  so,  had  not  the  latter  held 
out  two  helpless  hands  in  anguish:  "Jacob!    Jacob!" 

Jacob,  still  understanding  nothing,  hit  him  a 
blow  on  his  head,  and  the  burning  cap  fell  to  the 
floor,  exposing  a  bald  skull,  as  white  as  a  winter 
melon.  This  farcical  episode  took  but  a  moment, 
yet  that  moment  sealed  Jacob's  fate  forever. 

^^^HE  servant  on  the  floor,  knocked  loudly  on 
l)  the  door.  Uncle  Frasquito  suddenly  realized 
^*^  the  foolishness  of  the  situation,  slapped  his 
wig  on  his  head,  pulled  on  a  fur  coat,  put  in  his 
teeth,  and  hastily  ran  for  cover  in  Jacob's  room, 
crying  in  a  supplicating  voice :  "You  answer,  Jacob. 
Don't  let  him  see  me!" 

Sudden  as  this  affair  had  been,  and  paralyzing, 
as  it  had  for  the  moment,  Jacob's  natural  quickness 
of  mind,  he  yet  saw  that  this  foolish  episode  had 
placed  the  rich  and  influential  Uncle  Frasquito  in 
his  power,  considering  the  effeminate  weaknesses  of 
the  old  man.  A  plan  began  to  form  in  his  mind, 
vague  and  incomplete  as  yet,  but  still  luminous  and 
satisfactory. 

He  dismissed  the  servant,  saying  that  Uncle 
Frasquito  had  given  a  false  alarm.  He  returned  to 
his  room,  where  Uncle  Frasquito  was  already 
examining  with  the  eyes  of  an  expert,  the  three 
wax  seals  loosened  from  the  letters  by  the  traitor 
Mason,  which  he  had  left  on  the  table  in  the  excite- 
ment. The  papers  were  locked  in  the  bureau  at 
the  end  of  the  room. 

"What  a  foolish  fright!"  said  Uncle  Frasquito, 
and  then  passing  hastily  over  the  painful  subject, 
he  asked:  "What  seals  are  these?  I  don't  know 
them." 

Uncle  Frasquito  collected  diplomatic  seals, 
as  we  have  already  said,  and  kept  them  in  an  album, 
seals  which  he  had  purchased  at  fabulous  prices. 

"Royal  crown  on  a  Savoyan  cross,"  continued 
Uncle  Frasquito.  "That's  like  the  one  I  have  of 
Victor  Emmanuel.    But  I  don't  know  these." 

Jacob  was  embarrassed  at  seeing  the  proofs  of 
his  theft  in  Uncle  Frasquito's  hands,  and  could  not 
reply;  and  the  old  man  asked  again:  "Whom  do 
they  belong  to?     Do  you  want  them?" 


Jacob,  still  more  embarrassed,  and  in  order  to 
make  some  reply,  answered:  "Can't  you  guess?" 

"Ah!  Of  course  I  can!"  suddenly  cried  Uncle 
Frasquito.  "Compass  and  square!  How  stupid! 
These  come  from  the  lodges!" 

Jacob  forced  himself  to  laugh,  and  Uncle  Fras- 
quito, overcome  with  the  enthusiasm  of  an  amateur 
who  makes  an  important  discovery,  cried  enthusi- 
astically: "Give  them  to  me,  Jacob!  You  can't  have 
any  use  for  them,  and  I  have  none  like  them.  At 
least  let  me  have  one]" 

EOR  four  hours  Jacob  had  been  struggling  with 
himself,  without  being  able  to  decide  what 
he  would  do  with  the  seals,  and  then,  sud- 
denly, in  a  moment  and  in  six  words,  he  burnt  his 
ships  behind  him.  "Take  all  three,  if  you  want!" 
he  said,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

Alea  jacta  est!  He  could  not  return  the  seals 
now,  once  having  rid  himself  of  them;  and  he  must 
now  run  all  the  risks  attendant  on  his  crime,  as  it 
was  already  too  late  to  retreat  from  it.  Uncle 
Frasquito  had  not  waited  for  him  to  repeat  the 
offer.  He  wrapped  the  seals  up  in  a  piece  of  paper 
and  hid  them  in  his  pocket  hastily,  as  though  he 
feared  that  Jacob  might  retract  the  offer.  The  latter 
watched  him,  smiling  strangely,  and  as  the  seals 
disappeared  into  the  old  man's  pocket,  he  murmured 
in  Turkish:  "Olsum!"     "Amen!" 

Suddenly  jumping  from  the  chair  in  which  he 
had  been  seated,  he  suggested  that  Uncle  Frasquito 
join  him  in  a  bowl  of  hot  punch.  The  latter  excused 
himself,  pleading  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  but  Jaeob 
insisted.  Would  he  deny  him  these  few  moments 
of  relaxation?  He  was  so  lonely,  and  down  in  his 
luck. 

Uncle  Frasquito  gazed  at  Jacob  with  curiosity 
and  stayed  in  his  chair.  Perhaps,  if  he  remained, 
he  might  learn  something  of  the  mysterious  scandal 
about  a  certain  Turkish  lady  with  whom  Jacob's 
name  had  been  entwined  on  his  arrival  in  Paris. 
He  accepted  the  offer  of  the  punch  with  enthusiasm, 
and  awaited  any  revelations  regarding  the  mystery 
which  might  be  forthcoming. 

He  was  not  disappointed.  Jacob  in  the  voice 
of  a  man  oppressed  with  trouble,  confided  to  him 
that  he  was  crushed  under  the  weight  of  a  horrible 
catastrophe,  which  had  forced  him  to  flee  from 
Constantinople,  with  a  broken  heart  and  his  fingers 
stained  with  blood.  Uncle  Frasquito  gave  a  start, 
while  Jacob  unfolded  the  tale,  and  at  the  end,  cried: 
"This  is  serious,  man!"  "He  had  shrunk  further 
and  further  into  his  chair,  as  Jacob  narrated  the 
appalling  details  of  the  tragic  end  of  the  Cadi's 
wife.  He  was  overwhelmed,  and  yet  fascinated 
with  the  idea  that  he  would  be  the  person  who 
would  scatter  the  unpleasant  scandal  to  the  four 
winds.  Jacob  watched  him  with  a  smile.  His  first 
purpose  was  accomplished.  The  history  ot  his 
intrigue  with  the  Cadi's  wife  would  be  the  talk  of 
all  Paris  within  a  day  or  so,  and  would  place  him 


TH 


E  +  SIGN 


on  the  pedestal  of  scandal  and  of  novelty  upon  which 
a  degenerate  society  worships  the  decadent  idols 
of  the  day. 

Uncle  Frasquito  at  last  bade  Jacob  good-night, 
saturated  with  horror  at  the  gruesome  scandal  which 
had  been  unfolded  so  graphically  before  his  eyes, 
shuddering  at  its  ghastly  suggestion  of  crime,  yet 
overjoyed  at  his  own  importance  as  the  winged 
messenger  who  would  carry  the  foul  news  over  Paris. 
Before  he  left,  he  said:  "Jacob!  I  think  that  it 
would  be  wise  to  say  nothing  about  what  happened 
this  evening — the  fire,  and  the  nightcap!" 

"Ah!    yes.     I  had  forgotten  all  about  it." 

"Naturally,  naturally!  A  very  foolish  affair! 
But  people  are  so  tiresome :  they  laugh  at  one  and 
make  one  appear  ridiculous!" 

"Rest  easily,  man.     I  will  say  nothing." 

"Good-night,  then,  Jacob.  If  anything  should 
happen,  just  knock  on  the  door.  I  sleep  like  a  bird. 
In  this  I  am  like  an  old  man." 

Uncle  Frasquito  finally  went  to  bed,  well  satis- 
fied. But  when  he  had  blown  out  the  light,  this 
time  with  every  precaution,  he  shuddered  in  a  cold 
sweat.  He  thought  that  the  shadows  in  the  room 
were  floating  rapidly  round,  and  on  them  the  body 
of  a  strangled  eunuch,  a  rope  round  his  neck,  his 
eyes  starting  out  of  their  sockets,  his  arm  stretched 
out  stiffly,  which,  gradually  approaching  him,  sud- 
denly pulled  his  nose. 

Uncle  Frasquito  disappeared  under  the  sheets, 
closed  his  eyes  tightly,  and  hastily  crossed  himself 
three  times. 


CHAPTER  XV. 
V?=^EARING  of  some  handsome  women  who  had 
I  I  won  prizes  for  beauty  in  Spa,  and  later  in 
^~ ^  Budapest,  Curra  decided  that  her  next  move 
would  be  to  spread  the  reputation  of  her  beauty 
throughout  Europe.  Nothing  but  a  European  fame 
would  satisfy  her.  Unable  to  travel  everywhere  in 
person,  she  decided  to  have  her  portrait  painted  by 
Bonnat,  and  then  to  send  it  to  exhibition  after 
exhibition,  so  that  not  a  corner  of  Europe  would  be 
ignorant  of  her  charms.  The  fulfillment  of  this  plan 
kept  her  in  Paris  until  November,  and  thrice  a  week 
she  posed  for  the  great  artist  in  his  studio  for  the 
benefit  of  humanity.  This  delightful  idea  cost  her 
about  forty  thousand  francs.  To  be  sure  this  was 
an  expensive  luxury,  but  for  what  had  God  given 
her  money. 

One  morning  Curra  sent  a  messanger  to  Bonnat 
to  say  not  to  expect  her,  as  she  was  accompanying 
Her  Majesty  the  Queen  to  the  Chapel  of  Expiation 
on  the  Boulevard  Haussmann.  The  clock  of  the 
Grand  Hotel  had  already  struck  eleven,  and  the 
Duchess  of  Bara  had  sent  a  maid  to  tell  Curra 
that  she  was  waiting  downstairs.  Curra  was  im- 
patient and  irritated,  and  asked  Kate  if  the  Marquis 
had  not  returned  as  yet. 

"No,  madam,"  answered  the  girl. 


"But  when  did  he  go  out?  Why  did  he  get  up 
so  early?" 

"He  did  not  go  out." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"He  did  not  return  last  night." 

"Ah!"     said  Curra. 

The  Duchess,  who  had  waxed  impatient  at  the 
delay,  now  came  in  search  of  the  missing  lady. 
"What  is  the  matter,  Curra?  You  will  keep  the 
Queen  waiting,  if  you  don't  hurry." 

"My  dear  Beatrice!  You  don't  know  the  lady. 
It  will  be  twelve  before  she  ever  leaves  her 
royal  room."  And  she  continued  to  arrange  her 
mantilla 

Kate  entered  to  announce  that  the  Marquis  had 
returned. 

"Excuse  me  a  second,  my  dear,"  said  Curra 
quickly.     "I  must  say  au  revoir  to  Ferdinand." 

The  Duchess  made  a  gesture  to  express  admira- 
tion at  the  conjugal  affection  of  her  friend.  "What 
a  pair  of  turtle  doves!"  she  said.  "You  really 
make  me  envious." 

HERDINAND  had  just  come  in,  and  if  the  truth 
must  be  told,  it  has  to  be  admitted  that  he 
did  not  look  as  though  he  had  been  at  his 
prayers.  The  collar  of  his  overcoat  was  open,  his 
shirt  was  rumpled,  his  hat  showed  a  conspicuous 
dent,  his  eyes  were  red  and  weepy,  and  his  breath 
smelt  of  stale  wine.  He  was  startled  and  upset  at 
seeing  Curra,  and  with  a  forced  smile,  said  weakly: 
"I  have  just  returned  from  seeing  the  animals  at 
thejardin  des  Plantes." 

He  carefully  buttoned  up  his  overcoat, 
as  though  to  hide  from  Curra  that  out  of  affection 
and  consideration  for  the  animals  he  was  dressed  in 
evening  clothes  at  ten  o'clock  of  the  morning.  She 
in  her  simplicity,  did  not,  of  course,  notice  this; 
but  asked  ingenuously:  "And  did  you  do  what 
I  told  you?" 

"Told  me?" 

"Of  course.  Didn't  I  ask  you  to  call  on  Jacob 
Tellez?" 

"Jacob  Tellez?     Who  is  Jacob  Tellez?" 

"Jacob  Sabadell,  of  course.  My  cousin  Elvira's 
husband." 

"My  dear,  if  you  asked  me,  I  must  have  for- 
gotten.   What  had  I  better  do?" 

"Do  it  at  once!  Do  you  understand?  Invite 
him  to  breakfast.  Be  sure  that  I  find  him  here 
when  I  return." 

"Of  course,  my  dear,  don't  worry  about  it. 
What's  the  man's  name  again?" 

"Jacob  Tellez,  and  he  is  a  distinguished  gentle- 
man whom  I  want  you  to  treat  decently,  as  he  is 
my  cousin." 

And  Curra  delivered  a  little  lecture  upon  family 
love,  leaving  Ferdinand  quite  convinced  of  her 
disinterested  affection  for  her  relative. 

As  the  ladies  were  entering  their  carriage,  the 
exquisite   and    elegantly   dressed    Uncle    Frasquito 


THE  *t  SIGN 


appeared  and  leapt  into  the  carriage  with  them. 
He  accompanied  them  a  short  distance,  telling  them 
a  long  tale,  which  caused  intense  interest  and  amaze- 
ment to  show  on  the  countenances  of  the  two  women. 
Meanwhile  Jacob,  secluded  in  his  room,  was 
turning  his  plans  over  in  his  mind.  Upon  awaken- 
ing that  morning,  after  his  conversation  with  Uncle 
Frasquito,  free  from  the  wracking  happenings  of 
the  evening  before,  he  had  surveyed  the  situation 
clearly.  He  worked  out  his  plans  carefully  and 
exactly.  He  saw  now,  that  while  his  alliance  with 
Uncle  Frasquito  might  result,  indeed  would  result, 
in  his  winning  his  way  to  the  pinnacle  of  scandalous 
success,  at  the  same  time  this  very  success  might 
interfere  with  his  general  plan  of  campaign.  He 
might  have  been  wrong  in  making  Uncle  Frasquito 
the  bearer  of  scandalous  tidings;  he  felt  more  and 
more,  as  he  turned  the  matter  over  in  his  mind,  that 
he  had  made  a  misplay.  Yet  who  could  now  stem 
the  current  of  rumor  and  scandal?  He  wished  to 
find  someone  in  the  world  of  virtue  and  honor, 
outside  of  his  own  vicious  circle,  who  could  aid  him 
in  the  plan  which  was  maturing  rapidly  in  his  mind. 
He  must  find  someone;  and  chance  threw  Diogenes 
in  his  path. 

OIOGENES  had  hastened  to  visit  him  that 
morning,  enticed  by  the  money  which  he 
thought  the  ambassador  had  brought  back 
from  Turkey.  He  had  decided  to  breakfast  with 
Jacob,  for  he  had  no  hesitancy  in  inviting 
himself  unasked  to  a  meal;  then  he  would  take 
him  to  the  Petit  Club  to  try  his  luck,  with  the 
intention  of  securing  something  for  himself  on  the 
way.  He  was  greatly  surprised  when  Jacob,  with 
the  austerity  of  a  St.  Anthony  in  the  desert,  refused 
to  go  out,  and  stated  emphatically  that  he  would 
no  longer  walk  the  impure  streets  of  Paris,  that  he 
had  sworn  off  card  playing,  and  that  he  had  decided 
to  go  to  Biarritz  the  following  morning,  to  make  an 
attempt  at  reconcilation  with — Polaina! — his  wife !- ! 
Diogenes  loked  at  Jacob  in  silence,  and,  when  the 
latter  had  finished  talking,  he  said  to  him  seriously: 
"What  nonsense!  I  know  what  you  are  up  to.  Your 
wife  has  gained  her  lawsuit  with  the  Monterrubios, 
and  now  has  a  large  income.  You  are  as  hungry 
as  the  prodigal  son,  and  you  want  to  eat  the  fatted 
calf." 

Jacob  was  angry  at  having  his  thoughts  read 
so  correctly,  and  with  an  offended  air,  exclaimed: 
"I  assure  you " 

"Jacob,  my  boy!  I  can  tell  a  cripple  from  the 
way  he  walks!" 

"You  can  say  what  you  like,  but  I " 

"Look  here,  child!  Don't  try  to  deceive  your 
elders.  Neither  you  nor  I  have  any  self-respect; 
but  to  be  a  rogue,  one  must  have  cleverness,  and 
while  you  are  merely  on  the  way,  I  have  passed 
on  and  returned.     Do  you  understand?" 

Jacob's  offended  dignity  seemed  mollified;  and 
he  said,  after  a  moment's  pause :  "You  think  my 


plan  absurd?" 

"Absurd?  For  you  it  is  excellent  business: 
for  her  it  is  just  highway  robbery." 

"So  you  think  that  Elvira " 

"Would  be  willing  to  be  robbed?  Of  course! 
Raise  your  little  finger:  that  is  enough  for  her.  She 
loves  you  as  much  to-day  as  she  did  the  day  you 
first  deceived  her.     It's  incredible  but  true!" 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"What  of  it?  You  now  have  to  go  to  head- 
quarters." 

"And  what  are  headquarters?" 

"My  dear  boy:  at  Father  Cifuentes'." 

"Ah!     I  have  been  told  that  already." 

"Well,  you  are  not  mistaken." 

**■  tf'ACOB  was  lost  in  thought  for  a  moment;  then, 
tf  L  scratching  his  head,  he  said  with  a  jeering 
^"^  laugh :  "I  suppose  that  I  shall  have  to  confess 
to  Father  Cifuentes?" 

Diogenes  suddenly  became  serious. 

"Look  here,  Jacob,"  he  answered.  "I  may  be 
a  fool,  a  drunkard,  and  a  lost  soul :  I  may  have 
done  everything  except  commit  murder.  But  I  have 
profound  respect  for  anything  that  has  reference  to 
God.  I  have  inherited  that  respect.  I  am  not  good, 
because  it  would  take  too  much  trouble  to  be  so; 
but  I  have  veneration  for  the  man  who  is  good, 
and  who  does  take  the  trouble  to  be  so.  Just  be- 
cause I  wallow  in  the  mud,  is  no  reason  for  my  not 
seeing  that  there  are  stars  in  the  heavens." 

Jacob  was  immoderately  surprised  at  this 
strange  speech  of  Diogenes.  "Why  all  this 
harangue?"     he  asked  finally. 

"Why?  So  that  you  will  leave  your  wife  in 
peace,  for  by  the  very  act  of  thinking  of  her,  you 
do  her  an  injury." 

"You  are  very  complimentary!  A  valiant  de- 
fender of  my  Elvira!  When  did  you  happen  to 
meet  her?  I  don't  suppose  that  it  was  in  the  con- 
fessional of  Father  Cifuentes." 

"Certainly  not.  I  have  seen  her  and  learned 
how  to  appreciate  her  at  the  home  of  her  intimate 
friend,  Maria  Villasis." 

"Then  she  is  an  intimate  friend  of  your  intimate 
friend  Maria  Villasis?  I  understand.  And  how  is 
that  perfect  widow  getting  along?  You  must  admire 
pure  ugliness,  my  boy!  And  I  suppose  that  you  are 
the  confidant  of  my  wife?" 

"Stop,  canaille,  or  I'll  break  your  head!"  cried 
Diogenes,  thrusting  his  heavy  fist  under  Jacob's 
nose.  "What  do  you  want?  Money?  Go  to  the 
Countess  of  Albornoz,  a  miserable  thing  like  your- 
self! She'll  hand  you  out  all  you  want.  But  leave 
decent  people  alone!" 

Jacob  was  annoyed,  but  fearing  a  verbal  duel 
with  Diogenes,  he  answered:  "My  dear  Diogenes, 
you  are  not  yet  recovered  from  yesterday's  party. 
What  makes  you  think  that  I  am  going  to  sell  myself 
to  my  wife  for  a  few  dollars?" 

"My  friend,  remember  the  gypsy  in  the  fable! 


THE  +  SIGN 


When  he  confessed  that  he  had  stolen  three  pennies, 
the  priest  said  to  him:  'You  ought  to  be  ashamed 
of  yourself,  condemning  yourself  for  three  miserable 
pennies.'  To  which  the  gypsy  replied:  'What  else 
could  I  do,  when  there  were  no  more  to  be  had?'  " 

BT  this  point  the  argument  was  interrupted  by 
the  arrival  of  the  Marquis  of  Villamelon, 
who  entered,  perfectly  restored  after  the 
debauch  of  the  night  before.  Diogenes,  seeing  him, 
disappeared  behind  a  newspaper  at  the  other  end 
of  the  room.  The  Marquis  went  up  to  Jacob,  and 
seizing  his  hands,  said  to  him  in  a  most  affectionate 
tone  of  voice:  "My  dear  Benito,  how  are  you?  I 
must  ask  pardon  for  not  having  come  to  see  you 
before.  But  I  did  not  have  time.  Curra  expects 
you  to  breakfast,  at  two  o'clock;  a  trifle  late,  but 
to-day  she  is  out  with  the  Queen.  You  understand?" 
Jacob  was  about  to  decline  the  invitation,  when 


Villamelon  stopped  him:  "Not  a  word!  Under- 
stand? I  will  not  accept  excuses,  Benito.  Curra 
would  be  frightfully  upset.  She  loves  your  family, 
and  is  always  talking  about  you — Benito  this,  Benito 
that." 

Diogenes  shouted  from  his  chair:  "Villamelon! 
Idiot!     His  name  is  not  Benito!" 

"Not  Benito?     What  is  it,  then?" 

"Jacob." 

"Oh,  yes!  Jacob.  You  must  excuse  me,  Ben 
Jacob!  I  have  such  a  poor  memory.  And  each  day 
I  think  that  it  is  growing  worse." 

Ferdinand  complained  with  reason  of  his  fre- 
quent lapses  of  memory,  a  sure  sign  of  softening 
of  the  brain.  He  obtained  Jacob's  consent  to  break- 
fast with  Curra  and  himself,  and  departed  hastily 
from  the  room. 

(To  be  continued) 


Home  Made  Picture   Framing 


^^^HE  SIGN  aims  to  avoid  the  commonplace  in 
^/^  its  illustrations.  Some  of  these  our  readers 
wish  to  preserve  and  keep  in  view — such  as 
the  unparalleled  photograph  of  St.  Gabriel  and  his 
brother  in  the  February  number.  There  are 
exquisite  specimens  of  rotogravure  art  and  our  own 
camera  work  whch  we  might  wish  to  save  from 
oblivion.  Unprotected,  they  soon  gather  dust,  curl 
up,  fade  and  just  litter  the  room. 

There  is  the  touch  of  charm  and  refinement  and, 
in  the  case  of  sacred  subjects,  of  edification,  in 
neatly  mounted  photographs  on  the  walls  of  the 
home. 

Anyone  can  indulge  in  this  pleasing  and  useful 
hobby  without  special  skill  and  at  small  expense. 
The  only  outlay  required  will  be  for  glass  and  paste. 
Use  photographers'  paste  or  make  it  from  starch : 
these  will  not  discolor  the  paper.  For  glass,  old 
negatives  from  which  the  film  has  been  removed 
may  be  used. 

For  the  simplest  method  of  framing  you  require 
only  a  piece  of  glass,  a  sheet  of  cardboard  of  the 
same  size,  and  some  strips  of  brown  paper.  Brown 
usually   contrasts   more   pleasingly   with   the    high 


lights  in  the  photograph.  White  mounts  more  often 
make  the  small  pictures  look  dull.  This  simple  but 
artistic  method  is  suitable  for  sizes  up  to  about 
18  x  12  inches. 

The  photograph  or  clipped  picture  should  first 
be  mounted  on  card.  Brush  the  paste  into  the  back 
of  the  picture  until  the  paper  has  become  quite  limp. 
Then  press  the  picture  on  the  cardboard  and  leave 
it  to  dry. 

All  that  is  necessary  is  to  lay  the  glass  over 
the  mounted  picture,  trim  off  the  projecting  edges, 
and  bind  glass  and  card  together  with  strips  of 
dark-colored  paper.  Brown  wrapping  paper  will 
serve  the  purpose.  You  get  clear,  straight  edges 
by  cutting  the  strips  over  glass  with  a  sharp  pen- 
knife guided  by  a  ruler.  Each  strp  should  be  about 
%  inch  wide. 

The  strips  well  moistened  with  paste  should  be 
placed  very  accurately  over  the  edges  of  glass  and 
mount  and  pressed  down  neatly.  A  light  coat  of 
thin  varnish  over  the  binding  and  back  of  cardboard 
will  give  permanent  protection  against  dampness. 
For  hanging  purposes  loops  of  tape  glued  to  the 
back  will  serve  quite  as  well  as  metal  rings. 


Current  Fact  and  Comment 


PASSIONIST 

HATHER  Victor,  C.  P.,  until  recently  Rector  of 
St.  Paul's  Monastery,  Pittsburgh,  and  Father 
Valentine,  C.  P.  for  over  twenty-seven  years 
continuously  engaged  on  missions  throughout  the 
States,  sailed  for  Rome  in  April.  Their  ultimate 
destination  is  Germany  where  they  will  remain  and 
establish  a  foundation.  It  is  planned  to  make  it  the 
nucleus  of  a  Passionist  Province.  Germany  as  a 
result  of   the  partition  of  her  territory  loses  five 

ANGLICAN 

BNGLICANS  are  asking  whither  the  shortage 
of  their  clergy  in  England  is  leading.  That 
shortage  now  amounts  to  4000  and  to  meet  the 
wastage  only  158  deacons  were  ordained  last  year. 
In  1914  they  had  24000  clergy;  to-day  there  are  only 
18500.  A  novel  plan  of  relief  has  been  projected: 
the  ordination  of  men  still  engaged  in  professions 
or  trades.  One  writer  urges:  "Certainly  we  should 
press  at  once  for  permanent  diaconate  for  such  men 
in  large  numbers,  unpaid  of  course,  and  thus  dis- 


FOUNDATIONS 

million  Catholics  out  of  the  seven  million  of  popu- 
lation detached  from  her.  Excluding  the  Saar  dis- 
trict, the  Catholic  proportion  of  Germany's  popula- 
tion is  now  33.5  per  cent. 

Four  Passionists  from  Argentine  Province  have 
established  a  mission  at  Montevideo,  Brazil.  They 
will  have  charge  of  the  English-speaking  Catholic 
residents  of  that  city  and  will  give  missions  through- 
out the  republic. 

DIFFICULTIES 

tinguished  from  the  professional  class  of  clergy. 
Such  men  would  be  in  closer  contact  with  their 
fellows  and  help  to  bridge  the  gulf  which  seems 
often  to  exist  between  layman  and  cleric  to-day. 
They  would  lighten  the  duties  of  the  existing  clergy 
both  at  home  and  abroad  and  enable  the  sacraments 
to  be  administered  in  many  cases  where  the  rapid 
diminution  of  the  present  ministry  will  soon  make 
this  impossible. 


^^=^HE  rank  and  file  of  the  Russian  Orthodox 
^  J  Church  are  a  remarkably  devout  people. 
Recent  travellers  in  Russia  invariably  refer 
to  their  indomitable  faith  although  beset  by  terrible 
hardships  and  the  severe  restrictions  of  a  Com- 
munistic government.  As  there  are  signs  of  dis- 
integration in  that  vast  ecclesiastical  establishment, 
and  as  flattering  overtures  towards  union  are  being 
made  by  heretical  bodies,  we  should  pray  that  the 
Orthodox  leaders  may  realize  that  only  in  union 
with  the  Holy  See  can  they  find  consistency  and 
stability.     Thousands  in  the  Ukrainian  section  are 


PIUS  XI.  AND  THE  ORTHODOX 

about  to  detach  themselves  from  the  Patriarchate 
of  Moscow.  At  the  same  time  the  critical  decision 
presents  itself:  whether  they  should  yield  to  the 
overtures  of  the  Anglicans  or  submit  to  Rome.  Very 
opportunely  at  this  juncture  the  Chair  of  Peter  is 
occupied  by  one  who  as  Nuncio  to  Poland  and 
Apostolic  Visitor  to  Russia,  Latvia  and  Lithuania 
became  intimately  acquainted  with  their  political 
and  religious  conditions,  and  whose  sympathetic 
understanding  should  be  particularly  effective  in 
directing  their  decisions. 


^w^lTNESS  the  productivity  of  the  Baptist  organi- 
f  I  1  zation  when  planted  in  Italian  soil.  Someone 
having  stated  in  the  "New  York  Times"  that 
the  Methodists  were  the  only  Protestants  carrying 
on  mission  work  in  Rome,  that  newspaper  receives 
and  prints  a  correction  to  the  effect  that  Baptist 
mission  work  has  been  carried  on  in  Rome  for  fifty- 
two  years,  that  in  Italy  they  have  thirty-seven 
churches,  twelve   schools,   (including  a   theological 


BAPTIST  ACTIVITIES   IN   ITALY 

seminary),  two  kindergartens,  total   students,  690, 


and  that  during  the  war  they  distributed  more  than 
half  a  million  copies  of  the  New  Testament  and 
portions  of  Scripture.  Here  we  have  a  rather  im- 
pressive organization  and  over  half  a  century  of 
effort  described  and  then  the  total  membership 
frankly  set  down  at  1546.  The  writer  failed  to  state 
how  many  of  that  number  were  Italians! 


THE  1*  SIGN 


IDLE   CONDEMNATION   OR 

KITHERTO  the  degradation  of  the  stage  and  of 
amusements  such  as  the  cabaret  in  particular 
has  stirred  only  helpless  indignation  among 
the  decent  public.  It  is  gratifying  to  learn  that  at 
last  good  and  determined  men  have  organized  in 
opposition.  Success  should  be  assured  for  the 
reason  that  they  will  procede  not  by  attacking 
managers  and  producers  but  by  co-operating  with 
these.  In  place  of  criminal  prosecution  or  official 
censorship,  judgment  will  be  left  to  juries  selected 


ACTIVE   COOPERATION? 

from   a   panel   chosen   by   city   officials,   theatrical 
interests  and  representative  lay  citizens. 


Unless  parents  are  quite  certain  that  the  London 
County  Council  are  blindly  prejudiced,  they  should 
ponder  with  fclarm  upon  that  civic  body's  recent 
regulation  barring  from  the  movies  all  children 
under  seventeen  not  accompanied  by  parent  or 
guardian. 


SIGNOR   PAPINI 


/ef\UCH  attention  has  been  aroused  by  the  con- 
vfJ  version  of  Giovanni  Papini,  the  noted  Italian 
critic.  His  //  Storia  di  Cristo,  undertaken 
immediately  upon  his  rather  sudden  conversion,  is 
an  enthusiastic  proclamation  of  what  he  himself 
styles  the  "glad  message."  The  prayer  with  which 
Signor  Papini  concludes  the  book  and  which 
expresses  the  source  of  his  convictions,  proves  the 
still  wondrous  potency  of  the  prophecy  of  the 
Saviour : 
"And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  things  to  Myself": 

WHICH 

^^HE  Catholic  parent,  seeking  the  best  in  educa- 
V  J  tion  for  son  or  daughter,  should  not  be 
influenced  in  the  choice  of  a  college  by  the 
glamor  of  the  numerical  patronage  of  that  college. 
Examination  of  the  recent  claims  as  to  the  largest 
enrollment  revealed  that  some  colleges  now  have 
close  to  ten  thousand  students  in  attendance.  But 
thoughtful  educators  see  in  this  overwhelming 
growth  only  a  menace  to  efficiency.  Dr.  Chas.  F. 
Thwing,  President  Emeritus  of  Western  Reserve 
University,  frankly  describes  the  results  of  over- 
enrollment.  There  is  an  excess  of  students  in  pro- 
portion to  the  number  of  professors  or  to  the 
efficiency  of  the  material  facilities  for  giving  an 
education  to  a  vast  multitude.  Lecture  courses  take 
the  place  of  recitation  or  quiz  courses  in  subjects  in 


"Mankind,  removing  itself  from  the  gospel,  has  found 
desolation  and  death.  More  than  one  promise  and  one 
menace  have  found  their  accomplishment.  Now  we  have, 
we  despairng  men,  only  the  hope  of  Thy  return  .... 
We  await  Thee,  we  shall  await  Thee,  despite  our  im- 
worthiness  and  every  impossibility.  And  all  the  love 
that  can  be  won  from  our  devastated  hearts  will  be  for 
Thee,  the  Crucified,  Who  wert  tormented  for  love  of 
us,  and  Who  now  dost  torment  us  with  all  the  power  of 
Thy  unappeased  love." 

According  to  a  non-Catholic  reviewer,  this  book 
is  a  cry  from  the  Christian  soul  of  Italy,  and  supplies 
a  note  in  the  gamut  of  Christ-literature  which  we 
cannot  afford  to  miss. 

COLLEGE? 

which  the  personal  contact  of  teacher  and  student 
is  highly  desirable.  Having  heard  of  lecture  courses 
in  several  universities  given  to  audiences  of  students 
of  a  thousand  or  more,  Dr.  Thwing  is  reminded  of 
Aristotle's  remark  that  "eloquence  never  teaches." 
He  also  hears  of  freshmen  classes  divided  into  some 
sixty-four  sections  in  which  the  teachers  are  them- 
selves members  of  the  senior  class.  The  laboratories 
are  overcrowded.  Carelessness  in  experimentation 
is  the  inevitable  result.  It  should  also  be  said  that 
the  students  are  far  too  many  for  each  other,  as 
well  as  for  their  teachers  and  for  the  equipment. 
Students  educate  each  other  by  many  and  unconsci- 
ous conditions.  But  this  mutual  education  diminishes 
in  the  inverse  ratio  of  the  number  of  the  educating 
and  educated. 


THE   PROPS   OF   EVOLUTION 


^^HE  recent  country-wide  discussion  of  Darwin- 
V/ J  ism  and  evolution  was  of  immense  advantage 
in  setting  those  theories  back  within  their 
very  limited  and  hypothetical  confines.  As  such 
discussions  arise  periodically  it  is  discovered  that 
the  radical  evolutionists  while  left  unmolested  have 
been  enlarging  their  theories  and  promulgating  them 


with  characteristic  presumption  and  arrogance. 
With  the  zeal  and  ingenuity,  if  not  the  malignity, 
peculiar  to  all  radicals  they  have  so  thoroughly  come 
into  possession  of  the  field  of  education — literature, 
the  lecture  platform,  the  public  museums — as  to  have 
many  under  the  impression  that  they  have  definitely 
established  their  claims.     As  a  result  of  the  afore- 


THE  +  SIGN 


said  discussion  many  have  had  revealed  to  them 
on  what  a  slender  foundation  evolution  rests  especi- 
ally as  applied  to  the  origin  of  man. 

A  bill  barring  the  teaching  of  evolution  failed 
to  pass  in  the  Kentucky  legislature  by  a  single  vote. 
Undoubtedly  it  would  have  had  a  different  fate  had 
it  provided  exclusively  for  a  fair  and  honest  pre- 
sentation of  the  theory.  The  college  professor  in 
presenting  his  conclusions  to  his  students  should  be 
obliged  to  distinguish  between  discovered  fact  and 
the  surmises  of  a  lively  and  spacious  imagination. 


This  would  apply,  for  example,  to  that  most  notori- 
ous of  all  the  missing  links  with  the  impressive  name 
of  pithecanthropus  erectus  artfully  restored  from 
the  fragment  of  a  skull,  a  shin  bone  and  two  molar 
teeth.  It  should  also  be  frankly  pointed  out  how 
barren  of  proof  are  the  wide-open  pages  of  geology 
regarding  the  requisite  intermediary  forms  of  the 
transitional  theory.  No  science  has  generated  more 
credulity  than  evolution  or  given  more  occasion  for 
imposture.  Impartial  exposition  will  suffice  to  strip 
it  of  its  sneer  and  pretence. 


THE  CROSS  OF  CHRIST  THE   SUPREME  MOTIVE 


V|^E  pluck  these  gems  of  truth  from  a  wierd 
\I/  setting — these  evidences  of  zeal  and  experi- 
enced piety  from  among  certain  observations 
of  the  Rev.  C.  E.  Raven,  who  is  ranked  as  "easily 
the  most  influential  among  the  younger  leaders 
standing  for  a  new  interpretation  of  the  Christian 
faith  in  terms  of  progressive  thought  and  of  undying 
human  need."  His  theme  is  the  now  very  trite  one ; 
the  call  to  world  service. 

"We  can  no  longer  stop  short  at  the  Galilean 
ministry,  we  must  go  on  to  the  Cross.  Sooner  or 
later  the  disciples  must  come  to  terms  with  the 
Cross;  must  learn — often  through  anguish  of  soul — 
what  it  means  to  be  crucified  with  Christ.  .  .  My 
quarrel  with  the  student  Christian  movement  has 
been  that  it  has  tended  to  bring  youth  in  contact 
with  the  Galilean  Jesus,  and  then  virtually  said, 
'Oh,  let  us  be  joyful!'  ...  It  was  by  giving  up 


His  life  for  the  world  that  Jesus  served  it;  and  we 
cannot  go  very  far,  if  our  discipleship  is  genuine, 
before  we  realize  that  only  a  crucified  life  can  serve 
— that  the  man  who  scorns  merely  to  save  his  own 
soul  but  wants  to  devote  himself  to  the  kingdom  can 
be  effective  only  if  like  St.  Paul,  he  is  crucified  with 
Christ.  And  that  is  a  grim,  often  a  long  business. 
With  St.  Paul  it  meant  a  daily  warfare  against  the 
flesh  ...  In  the  end  there  is  no  other  principle  that 
can  bear  the  strain  but  the  principle  of  the  Incar- 
nation, no  other  power  than  the  constraining  love  of 
Him  Who  emptied  Himself  of  His  glory.  And, 
again,  how  can  we  meet  the  sins  and  sorrows,  the 
wrongs  and  disabilities  of  those  we  want  to  help 
except  in  the  light  of  the  Cross  of  Christ,  in  the 
vision  of  a  Christ  Who  suffers  for  our  sins  and  is 
pierced  by  our  sorrows?" 


WHAT  THE   CENSUS   SHOWS 


QCCORDING  to  the  latest  official  report  there 
are  more  than  eighteen  million  Catholics  in 
the  United  States  and  over  ten  millions  more 
in  the  possessions.  In  the  States  proper  the  increase 
for  1921  was  219,158.  A  huge  number— but  are  we 
justified  in  heralding  it  with  enthusiasm  and  as  a 
great  gain?  Is  a  scant  two  per  cent  increase  some- 
thing to  boast  of  when  we  consider  what  should 
be  due  to  natural  growth  alone?  Moreover,  immi- 
gration, although,  restricted,  contributed  substanti- 
ally to  that  increase.  But  there  is  another  source  of 
increase — conversions — which,  had  it  claimed  that 
whole  increase  for  itself  should  have  given  no  cause 
for  astonishment.  Catholic  zeal  and  good  example 
are  not  functioning  as  they  should  in  the  direction 
of  conversions.  In  our  faith  we  have  the  most 
reasonable  and  appealing  message  for  the  multitudes 
craving  certitude  and  seeking  a  spiritual  anchorage. 
The  ease  with  which  new  sects  find  adherents  and 
impose  upon  them  the  most  incredible  views  of  God 


and  morality  should  make  us  wonder  where  the 
blame  lies  for  our  not  forestalling  them.  Of  the 
millions  not  affiliated  at  all  how  many  are  as  well 
disposed  as  those  who  have  made  their  submission, 
how  many  need  only  a  hint,  a  helpful  word,  a  guid- 
ing hand!  Recently  on  the  occasion  of  his  Silver 
Jubilee  a  priest  modestly  recalled  that  he  had 
brought  250  converts  into  the  Church — an  average 
of  ten  a  year  for  his  priestly  career.  It  has  been 
shown  that  there  are  not  enough  priests  for  ordinary 
parochial  demands,  otherwise  work  for  converts 
might  show  larger  results.  But  what  about  the  laity 
and  the  contribution  from  their  efforts  to  the  sum 
of  converts?  Consider  the  splendid  gains  were 
every  Catholic  able  to  claim — not  one  convert  a 
year,  or  in  every  ten  years — but  even  one  in  his  or 
her  lifetime!  Contemplate  seriously  the  feasibility 
of  thus  influencing  even  one  of  the  many  with  whom 
you  come  in  contact  socially  or  under  other  intimate 
circumstances. 


The  S 


onnam 


John  Ayscouch 


bulista 


DO,  Carluccia,"  declared  Sholto   Maxwell, 
"I  would  far  rather  you  didn't  see  me 

"But  I  wish  to!  It  was  a  settled  arrange- 
ment with  me.  I  should  have  thought  you  would 
like  to  see  the  very  last  of  me — to  see  me  up  to  the 
last  moment  possible." 

Carluccia's  tone  was  petulant,  obstinate,  and 
hurt.  He  certainly  did  not  wish  to  hurt  her.  Pro- 
bably nine  people  out  of  ten  would  have  said  that 
Sholto  Maxwell  was  singularly  fortunate  in  his 
engagement,  that  he  had  much  the  best  of  the 
bargain.  Carluccia  was  a  beauty,  acknowledged  as 
such  everywhere  (everywhere,  that  is  to  say,  in 
society,  and  she  herself  knew  no  other  opinion)  : 
she  had  considerable  "distinction" :  she  was  well 
born:  she  sang  well,  and  painted  much  better.  Sholto 
Maxwell  was  also  well  born:  but  he  was  only  a 
subaltern  of  the  new  Army;  he  was  not  handsome, 
though  of  a  stalwart,  fine  figure;  he  was  not  quite 
of  the  same  social  ring  as  Miss  de  Bolesme — was 
not,  indeed,  of  any  social  importance;  and  no  one 
considered  him  brilliant.  He  was  merely  reKable 
and  solid :  with  good  brains,  and  excellent  common 
sense.    Of  fortune  he  had  a  sufficiency,  but  no  more. 

Their  engagement  was  a  very  sudden  business. 
He  had  only  known  her  three  weeks  when  he  asked 
her  to  say  she  would  be  his  wife.  She  said  Yes  at 
once;  and  she  was,  indeed,  altogether  in  love  with 
him. 

Sir  Eustace  de  Bolesme  had  held  a  diplomatic 
appointment  in  Italy,  and  had  married  a  Roman 
lady  of  high  rank.  Lady  de  Bolesme  was  now  a 
widow,  and  spent  half  her  time  in  England,  half  in 
Rome :  but  since  the  war  began  had  not  left  London. 
Her  daughter's  name  was  Carola,  but  Carluccia  was 
her  mother's  pet-name  for  her,  and  now  everybody, 
who  knew  her  well,  called  her  by  it. 

Carluccia's  beauty  was  very  southern :  she  was 
extraordinarily  dark,  and  perhaps  too  pale,  but  her 
features  were  faultless  and  her  eyes  were  large, 
brilliant,  and  expressive. 

Her  father  had  always  spoiled  her,  and  she  was 
her  mother's  mistress :  Lady  de  Bolesme  was  an  ex- 
beauty,  with  very  few  ideas,  but  those  few  eminently 
correct. 

Carluccia  was   all   ideas — she   was   a   prey   to 


them,  and  they  were  always  changing.  She  entirely 
forgave  Sholto  for  having,  as  she  thought,  none  at 
all.  Her  father  had  been  like  that,  and  she  had 
sincerely  loved  him. 

[HOLTO  MAXWELL  might  be  proud  of  the 

beauty   and   distinction   of   his   future   wife, 

and  of  her  intense  devotion  to  him :  but  she 

would  be  pretty  sure  to  give  him  trouble.     She  was 

petulant,  unreasonable,  as  obstinate  as  a  mule,  and 

fiercely  jealous. 

"  I  intend  to  go  down  to  Dover  to  see  you  off," 
she  announced  obstinately.     "Your  sister  is  going." 

"Elspeth  is  going  to  nurse  in  a  base-hospital. 
She  cannot  bring  you  back." 

"That  doesn't  matter.     Mamma  can  come  too." 

"She  told  me  she  was  quite  unfit  for  it." 

"All  right.  Let  her  stay  at  home.  /  shall  go. 
I  have  a  special  reason." 

He  smiled,  and  said  the  most  special  reason 
was  to  see  the  last  of  him :  but  she  had  another 
which  she  did  not  tell  him. 

Finally  she  got  her  point,  as  she  always 
intended. 

"There's  another  thing,"  she  said  presently. 
"I  want  you  to  come  with  me — this  afternoon — to 
Elsa  Nerida.  I  telegraphed  for  an  appointment,  and 
she  has  given  me  one.    I  will  go  and  get  ready  now." 

"Who  is  Elsa  Nerida?" 

"Don't  you  know?  She  is  the  greatest  living 
sonnambulista,  clairvoyante  as  they  call  it  here." 

"Carluccia,  I  wish  you  would  not  go  near  those 
people.    I  beg  you  not  to  go  to  her." 

"1  am  certainly  going.  If  you  choose,  on  your 
last  afternoon,  to  leave  me,  you  can :  only  I  shall  go 
alone." 

Sholto  loathed  the  whole  idea  of  clairvoyantes, 
and  hated  going  near  such  a  woman:  it  was  quite 
against  his  conscience  to  take  Carluccia  to  her. 

"Will  you  go  if  I  earnestly  beg  you  to  give  it 


up 


he  asked  gently. 


"I  will  not  give  it  up.  With  you  or  without 
you  I  shall  go.  It  was  Elsa  Nerida  who  told  me 
I  should  meet  you.  She  described  you,  and  said 
you  were  coming  into  my  life.  The  moment  we  met 
I  recognized  you  'il  maestro  della  mia  vita,'  the 
Master  of  my  life.    You  ought  to  be  grateful  to  her." 


THE  +  SIGN 


"The  master  of  your  life,"  said  Sholto  with 
a  little  smile  of  protest,  "and  you  will  not  do  any- 
thing I  ask!" 

"Everything  you  ask.  But  this  you  must  not 
ask:  come — or  let  me  go  by  myself." 

XT  was  Elsa  Nerida  who  had  described  to  her 
the  sailing  of  a  ship  full  of  soldiers,  from 
a  haven  under  white  cliffs  with  a  castle  on 
their  summit,  had  described  herself,  Carluccia  (very 
accurately),  watching  the  ship  go. 

Elsa  Nerida  received  her  client  in  a  flat  not 
far  from  Piccadilly.  The  door  was  opened  by  a 
elderly  woman  with  a  blank  face,  who  did  not  admit 
them  till  Carluccia  had  handed  her  the  telegram 
from  her  mistress  giving  an  appointment.  She  then 
led  them  into  a  tiny  waiting-room,  a  little  like  that 
of  a  fifth-rate  dentist.  After  two  or  three  minutes 
a  door  opened  and  a  young  man's  face  appeared  in 
the  doorway :  the  face  of  someone  quite  well  known 
to  Carluccia. 

"No,"  said  a  voice  beyond  him,  "not  that  door 
now." 

The  young  man  immediately  closed  the  door, 
another  was  heard  to  open,  leading  evidently  to  the 
narrow  hall  or  passage :  then  the  entrance-door  was 
opened  and  no  doubt  the  blank-faced  woman  let 
him  out. 

"That,"  whispered  Carluccia,  "was  Steenie 
Lackland.     I  can't  abide  him." 

So  far  as  could  be  seen  in  the  moment  he  had 
stood  at  the  door,  he  was  a  man  of  about  Sholto's 
age,  and  the  same  build  and  height,  with  fair  hair 
like  his,  and  blue-grey  eyes  like  his:  but  with  no 
other  resemblance  whatever. 

Adesso,  Signorina,"  said  the  blank-faced 
woman,  coming  in.     "Tutti  due?" 

"Tutti  due." 

"Allora."  And  the  woman  crossed  to  the  window, 
pulled  down  a  black  blind  and  drew  thick  black 
curtains  completely  across. 

"That,"  said  Carluccia,  in  a  low  voice,  "is  lest 
Elsa  Nerida  should  see  you  even  during  the  moment 
the  door  is  open.    Take  my  hand.    I  will  lead  you." 

"I  hate  it." 

"Hate  taking  my  hand!" 

"The  whole  thing.  I  wish  you  would  come 
away." 

"I  certainly  shall  not.  Come,  or  I  shall  leave 
you." 


She  took  him  by  the  arm  and  piloted  him  to 
the  door  in  which  the  other  young  man  had 
shown  for  a  moment.  Their  footsteps  were  quite 
noiseless  on  the  thick  felt  floor-covering.  The  door- 
way was  broad  and  low. 

"Stoop,"  said  Carluccia.  And  they  passed 
through  together.    Then  the  door  closed  behind  them. 

They  were  in  pitch  darkness.  The  place  had 
a  queer  eastern  smell,  and  was  almost  airless. 

"There  are  two  of  you  said  a  very  tired  voice. 
"I  gave  Lave  only  for  one." 

It  was  true  that  in  her  telegram  Carluccia  had 
made  no  mention  of  Sholto,  but  she  had  previously 
promised  to  bring  him. 

"One  of  us,"  said  he,  "is  here  very  unwillingly." 

"Then  why  do  you  come?" 

"To  please  someone  else.  In  this  I  am  wrong 
to  please  her." 

"You  had  better  go."  And  the  voice  was  full 
of  anger. 

"If  you  do  I  shall  not  forgive  you,"  whispered 
Carluccia  in  his  ear. 

V?=^E  was  quite  resolved  not  to  leave  her  in  that 

I I  horrible  place  alone.    He  felt  it  to  be  simply 

horrible — the  darkness  was  full  of  a  hateful 
Presence,  weird,  ghastly,  abominable. 

"If  he  is  afraid,  let  him  go,"  said  the  voice: 
it  was  intensely  displeased  and  scornful. 

"Of  course  I  am  not  afraid." 

"I  never  asked  you  here,"  said  the  voice,  "but 
I  know  you  though  I  never  saw  you." 

She  then  described  him — not  flatteringly:  the 
description,  however,  answered.  Perhaps  it  might 
have  served  nearly  as  well  for  the  other  young  man 
who  had  just  gone  out. 

"Now,"  said  the  voice  when  the  description  was 
finished,  "I  wish  you  to  see  there  is  nothing  here. 
I  wished  to  describe  you  before  I  had  seen  you." 

Immediately  a  light — an  ordinary  electric  light 
bulb — pendant  from  the  ceiling  was  turned  on,  and 
the  room  and  its  occupants  became  visible.  Every- 
thing was  black:  ceiling,  walls,  floor,  furniture.  The 
walls  were  not  covered  with  curtains  but  painted 
or  papered  black :  so  was  the  ceiling.  The  furniture 
consisted  of  two  settees,  covered  with  black  cloth, 
having  wooden  legs,  and  a  black  tripod  of  iron 
holding  a  black  metal  bowl  containing  a  few  lumps 
of  charcoal.  Apparently  there  was  no  window:  the 
doors  into  the  hall  and  into  the  waiting-room  were 
black,  with  dulled  black  handles.     The  covering  of 


24 


THE  + 

the  floor  appeared  to  be  of  what  is  called  "cork 
lino"  but  black.  Elsa  Nerida  was  very  tall  and  her 
face  was  quite  colourless.  Her  black  robe  reached 
up  almost  to  her  chin,  but  it  was  not  long:  her 
stockings  must  have  black,  for  against  the  black 
floor  they  did  not  appear  at  all,  and  her  feet  could 
not  be  seen,  either,  in  their  black  felt  slippers.  Even 
with  the  electric  light  turned  fully  on,  only  the 
woman's  face  and  hands  showed,  on  account  of  the 
blackness  of  her  clothing,  the  floor  and  walls. 

"Sit  down  there," 
she  said,  pointing  a  long 
finger  to  one  of  the 
settees.  On  the  finger 
was  a  queer  ring  of 
black  iron,  like  a  tiny 
cage,  in  which  was  a 
bit  of  cord — part  of  the 
strand  of  a  halter  with 
which  a  famous  mur- 
derer had  been  hanged : 
but  of  that  Sholto  knew 
nothing. 

The  moment  he 
and  Carluccia  had  sat 
down  the  electric  light 
went  out.  An  instant 
later  the  charcoal  in  the 
bowl  of  the  tripod 
glowed  a  dull  red,  and 
a  very  slight  blue  flame 
wavered  up  from  it. 
There  was  a  queer 
smell,  not  nasty  but 
faint  and  sickly. 

Elsa  Nerida  was 
quite  invisible.  Sholto 
concluded  she  had 
merely  turned  her  back. 

"Of  course  she  is  there,"  he  thought. 

"Certainly  I  am,"  she  said  scornfully. 

But  almost  instantly  the  electric  light  shone 
out  again,  and  there  appeared  no  sign  of  her.  Still 
it  seemed  to  him  that  against  all  that  black  back- 
ground were  she  but  to  cower  in  a  corner,  with  her 
face  averted  and  hands  hidden,  she  would  not  be 
visible. 

"Go  and  search  for  her,"  Carluccia  whispered. 

He  did  so,  walking  quite  round  the  walls:  but 
he  did  not  find  her.     She  was  not  there. 

As  soon  as  he  returned  to  his  place  beside 
Carluccia  the  electric  light  went  out.    He  sat  down 


Ma>)    Hymn 

Don  Theodore  Bailey,  O.  S.  B. 

O  Lady,  Mother  mine, 

Most  high  ana  fair  thou  art, 
And  fairer  than  all  the  fair, 
And  virginal  of  heart. 

O  Lad>),  Mother  mine, 

TKe  moon  beneath  thy*  feet, 
And  seven  stars  thy  crown  vJithal 
TKe  sea's  clear  star  and  sv?eet. 

O  Lady,  Mother  mine, 

Rose  mistical,  most  pure, 
Whose  perfume  gladdens  Heaven 
Be  thou  our  refuge  sure. 

O  Lady,  Mother  mine, 

Queen  among  Seraphim, 
Throne  of  thy"  lovely  Son, 
For  us  beseech  thou  Him. 


SIGN 

and   Carluccia   took   his   hand    in   hers,   laying   her 

other  hand  upon  it. 

"Do  believe,"  she  whispered  eagerly. 
At  that  moment  something  touched  him  on 
the  cheek;  it  felt  like  the  skin  of  a  mouse,  and  it 
somehow  disgusted  him.  He  jumped  up  angrily, 
and  Elsa  Nerida's  voice  said  quietly  from  the  other 
side  of  the  room : 
"I  am  here." 

He  turned  sharply  and  saw  her  face  low  down 
near  the  floor.  It  dis- 
appeared and  a  moment 
later  he  saw  it  again, 
quite  high  up  in  the  air, 
four  or  five  feet  from 
where  it  had  been.  It 
disappeared  and  re- 
appeared—  it  seemed 
to  be  everywhere.  But 
there  were  no  eyes  in 
the  face,  nor  any  eye- 
brows. It  was  all  a 
white  blank. 

This  lasted  per- 
haps for  two  minutes. 

Then  Elsa's  face 
showed  above  the  tri- 
pod, and  her  great, 
sombre  black  eyes  were 
bent  on  the  wavering 
blue  flame. 

"Ask  what  you 
want  to  know,"  she 
commanded. 

"I  want  to  know 
nothing." 

"It  is  a  pity  you 
are  inimical.  Your 
spirit  is  not.  It  is  only 
your  temper.  If  I  were  a  common  medium  I  should 
say  that  your  opposition  of  will  balked  the  vision. 
Nothing  can  balk  it.  I  will  tell  you  what  will  be." 
"You  shall  tell  me  nothing,"  said  Sholto,  not 
only  with  decision  but  with  a  certain  anger  that  was 
distinctly  perceptible  in  his  voice.  "I  will  listen 
to  nothing  that  you  may  choose  to  say.  Carluccia, 
I  shall  not  stay  here,  nor  do  I  intend  to  leave  you 
here." 


B 


E  had  risen  and  was  standing  with  his  back  to 
the  Sonnambulista,  turned  to  Carluccia,  whose 
face  was  only  barely   visible,   for   the   little 


THE  + 

flame  in  the  tripod  now  gave  a  very  faint  glimmer. 

Her  eyes  glittered,  and  she  was  trembling. 

"Come,  dear  Carluccia,"  he  asked  her  earnestly, 
but  quite  gently.  In  speaking  to  her  there  was  no 
angry  inflection  in  his  voice. 

Nevertheless  she  knew  he  was  angry,  though 
not  yet  at  all  events,  with  her:  she  was  afraid — 
afraid  of  losing  him:  she  loved  him  with  a  strong 
though  recent  passion,  and  the  dread  of  losing  him 
frightened  her.  If  she  had  been  quite  sure  of  keeping 
him,  in  spite  of  disobedience,  she  would  have  dis- 
obeyed. 

While  he  bent  towards  her,  pleadingly,  some- 
thing crept  against  his  cheek:  it  felt  like  another 
cheek,  very  hot  and  dry.  But  though  he  started  up 
at  once,  and  threw  up  his  hand,  there  was  nothing : 
as  soon  as  he  had  turned  round  he  saw  Elsa  Nerida's 
face  wavering  in  the  air,  rocking,  as  it  were,  to  and 
fro,  but  several  feet  away. 

"Go  with  him,"  said  her  voice;  "I  am  tired 
of  him.  Obey  him  this  time.  Another  time  you 
will  disobey  him,  and  it  will  cost  the  fair  man  dear." 

Carluccia  stood  up. 

"I  am  coming,"  she  said  in  a  tired  voice. 

Almost  instantly  the  electric  light  was  turned 
on,  and  they  found  that  they  were  alone  in  the  room. 

Outside  in  the  street  they  got  into  a  taxi. 
Carluccia  was  still  afraid  because  his  face  was  so 
grave  and  his  mouth  looked  so  hard  and  determined. 

"I  have  lost  caste  with  him,"  she  thought,  and 
again  she  trembled. 

"Sholto,"  she  asked  gently,  "are  you  angry?" 

"Yes." 

"With  me?" 

It  was  a  pity  she  asked  that  second  question: 
because  his  answer  reassured  her. 

"No,  of  course  not  with  you.  With  myself. 
I  had  no  business  to  take  you  there.  I  knew  I 
was  wrong  and  ought  not  to  have  yielded." 

"Then  I  should  have  gone  alone.  But  I  wanted 
her  to  say  what  would  happen  to  you." 

"Carluccia,"  he  said,  turning  to  her  and  taking 
her  hand,  "you  must  promise  me  that  you  will  never 
go  near  that  horrible  place  again." 

"I  can't  promise,"  she  said,  truthfully  enough, 
because  her  will  was  enfeebled  by  the  hold  she  had 
allowed  the  Sonnambulista  to  gain  over  her. 

"Then—" 

And  she  thought  he  was  going  to  declare  that 
their  engagement  must  end. 

"Then,"  she  said  hurriedly,  "I  promise." 

26 


SIGN 

It  was  the  first  real  lie  she  had  ever  told  in  her 
life.  She  was  petulant,  obstinate,  and  wayward, 
but  her  nature  was  frank  and  courageous,  not  the 
liar's  nature:  but  the  wretched  influence  to  which 
she  had  wilfully  subjected  herself  had  corrupted 
her  nature. 

Her  cheek  reddened,  for  she  knew  she  was 
lying:  but  he  was  not  looking  at  her,  and  he 
thoroughly  believed  in  her  truth. 


fi 


II. 
OR  some  time  after  his  departure  to  France 
Carluccia  did  not  go  to  see  Elsa  Nerida — 
because  she  did  not  yet  want  to  go. 

She  had  carried  out  her  plan  of  seeing 
him  off  at  Dover,  and  her  last  memory  of  him  was 
as  he  had  looked  leaning  over  the  ship's  side. 
Oddly  enough  the  man  next  to  him  had  been  Steenie 
Lackland.  When,  at  last,  the  ship  moving,  she  had 
waved  to  Sholto,  saying  "Au  revoir,"  she  had  seen 
Steenie  smile  and  seen  on  his  lips  her  own  words 
"Au  revoir."  This  had  made  her  angry,  for  she 
thoroughly  disliked  him,  and  knew  that  he  wanted 
to  marry  her.  And  intensely  as  she  loathed  the  man 
he  had  a  hateful  sort  of  "influence"  over  her — so 
she  called  it  to  herself,  meaning  really  no  more 
than  that,  whereas  she  would  wish  to  be  simply 
oblivious  of  his  existence,  she  often  found  herself 
thinking  of  him  with  a  sort  of  repulsion  that  re- 
sembled dread. 

In  one  of  his  letters,  and  only  one,  Sholto 
alluded  to  Elsa  Nerida.  "Thank  God,"  he  wrote, 
"that  you  gave  me  your  promise  not  to  go  near  that 
abominable  place.  I  can  see  where  there  was 
imposture :  vulgar  imposture.  But  there  was  worse 
than  imposture,  something  foul  and  evil :  something 
not  explicable.  There  was  in  the  room  a  Presence 
worse  than  hers  :  a  Power  greater  than  mere  roguery, 
but  easily  linked  to  every  form  of  untruth." 

So  far  besotted  was  she  that  the  accusation  of 
trickery  angered  her,  whereas  the  other  insinuation 
oddly  pleased  her. 

For  longer,  much  longer,  than  usual  Carluccia 
had  not  had  a  letter  from  him.  And  she  was  "on 
strings":  frightened.  There  had  been,  everyone 
said,  a  new  "push"  out  there.  Irresponsible  rumour 
said  a  disastrous  one:  and  rumour  lied,  for  it  had 
achieved  its  object,  and  there  was  to  follow  a  lull, 
and  officers  were  being  granted  leave. 


THE  +  SIGN 


GARLUCCIA  now  cared  only  for  one  thing  in 
life — Sholto.  Her  love  was  no  longer  merely 
a  passion,  it  was  an  obsession.  Yet  it  hurried 
her  to  disobedience  and  ruin — of  his  life  and  her 
own. 

"I  must  know,"  she  said  to  herself.  "I  must 
know." 

And  she  telegraphed  to  Elsa  Nerida  asking  for 
an  appointment. 

"May  we  come  again?"  was  her  message. 

"That  will  prove  her,"  she  told  herself,  really 
believing  entirely  in  the  woman. 

"Yes,  come.  At  five  this  afternoon.  Both  of 
you,"  was  the  answer. 

The  reply  did  not  shake  her  confidence,  because 
it  could  not  be  shaken:  it  was  gone  beyond  the 
control  of  evidence  or  reason.  But  it  shook  her. 
She  went  to  her  appointment  trembling. 

The  blank-faced  woman  noted  that  she  came 
alone,  and  no  doubt  reported  it,  but  she  showed  no 
surprise. 

"I  knew,"  said  Elsa  Nerida  when  Carluccia 
was  in  the  black  room,  "that  he  would  come  again." 

"He  is  not  here,"  whispered  Carluccia,  shiver- 
ing. 

The  room  was  entirely  dark.  The  tripod  was 
unlighted. 

"He  is  here,"  the  Sonnambulista  insisted,  "at 
your   side." 

"No,"  the  girl  stammered.  "He  is  over  there — 
in  France.  I  came  for  news.  I  have  not  heard  of 
him.    I  was  frightened,  and  I  came  for  news." 

"You  said  'we' :  and  you  spoke  truth.  He  came 
with  you.  He  is  here.  Beside  you.  His  hand  will 
touch  yours.  .  .  ." 

And  a  very  cold  hand,  that  shook  perceptibly, 
touched  Carluccia's.  The  girl  herself  was  trembling 
from  head  to  foot. 

"Turn  to  him,  if  you  dare,"  whispered  Elsa 
Nerida.  "If  you  turn  to  him  he  will  know  that  you 
love  him — always." 

Carluccia  could  hardly  move :  she  had  heard 
that  Elsa's  own  voice,  usually  so  impassive,  was 
tense  with  excitement. 

"Ah!"    said  Elsa,  "she  dare  not." 

Then  Carluccia  turned  and  other  lips  met  hers, 
and  withdrew  instantly.  She  stretched  out  her  arms 
but  they  met  nothing. 

"I  bade  him  come,"  whispered  the  Sonnambu- 
lista. "His  spirit  is  of  us.  Only  the  tempter,  a 
bodily    carnal    thing,   was    averse,    obstinate.      His 


spirit  is  free  now — and  obedient.  He  came  with 
you.  .  .  ." 

For  a  long  time  there  was  no  other  sound 
except  the  awful  beating  of  Carluccia's  own  heart. 

"His  spirit?"  she  stammered  at  last,  a  horri- 
ble chill  creeping  all  over  her. 

"Yes.  It  is  free  now.  It  comes  to  you.  Released 
from  the  churl-body  it  is  free.  .  .  ." 

"He  is  killed  then,"  thought  Carluccia,  in  a  dull 
amaze  of  despair. 

"Yes,"  said  Elsa  Nerida.  "Otherwise  he  would 
not  have  come." 


III. 

GARLUCCIA  sat  alone  in  a  narrow,  but  long, 
plot  of  garden:  tall  houses  behind  her, 
then  the  garden,  then  the  road,  the  embank- 
ment, then  the  river,  at  high  tide. 

Steenie  Lackland  had  found  her  there :  how, 
she  did  not  guess.  He  had  sat  beside  her  and  had 
assured  her  that  she  would  be  his  wife. 

"It  is  willed,"  he  had  said. 

"I  loathe  you." 

"That  is  nothing.  Your  fancies  are  nothing  to 
Fate.  It  has  spoken.  One  fair  man,  grey-eyed, 
hard-mouthed,  of  masterful  temper  was  to  woo 
you.  But  not  to  win.  For  him  death.  Another,  of 
the  same  description,  spared  by  Fate,  shall  possess 
your  whole  heart.  He  is  near  you.  .  .  .  Ask  Elsa 
Nerida." 

The  horror  of  the  threat  of  Fate  overpowered 
her  with  loathing.  The  man  saw  it,  and  for  the 
moment  chose  to  leave  her.  His  lips  had  once 
touched  hers,  though  she  had  no  suspicion  of  it. 
For  the  moment  it  sufficed  him,  and  he  rose  and  left 
her. 

For  a  long  time  after  he  had  gone  she  sat  there, 
quite  alone,  with  ineffable  sorrow  and  inexpressible 
loathing. 

With  two  tags  of  poetry  she  ended  it. 

"  'No  man  can  be  more  wise  than  Destiny,' 
and 

"  'Man  is  man  and  master  of  his  fate.' 

Till  it  was  dark.  Then  she  too  rose:  went  out 
of  the  garden :  climbed  the  river  wall — and  ended  it. 

At  that  moment  Sholto  Maxwell  was  asking 
her  maid: 

"Do  you  know  where  she  went?" 

"I  don't  know,  Sir:  but  I  guess.  To  Madame 
Elsa  Nerida's." 


fi 


Tke   Oldest   Man 

Mark  Moeslein,'C.  P. 


'ATHER  Hill,  the  pastor  of  a  large  city 
parish,  was  busy  planning  his  first  pro- 
longed vacation  in  many  years.  Far-reach- 
ing travels  did  not  appeal  to  him.  What 
he  wished  for  was  the  leisure  and  quiet  of  a  mountain 
hotel,  far  away  from  the  rush  of  city  life  and  of 
popular  or  fashionable  pleasure  resorts.  The  hope 
of  association  with  people  of  scholarly  attainments 
lurked  in  his  vacaton  plans.  Manitou,  at  the  base 
of  Pike's  Peak,  was  the  place  chosen. 

An  important  item  in  his  planning  was  restful 
occupation  for  the  summer  months  amongst  the 
anticipated  delights  in  the  mountains  of  Colorado. 
He  was  not  minded  to  spend  all  of  his  time  in 
climbing  mountains  and  exploring  canyons.  Much 
of  the  time  would  be  given  to  resting  his  body  while 
refreshing  his  mind  with  reading.  Fictional  reading, 
stories  for  children  excepted,  had  no  attractions  for 
him.  He  would  employ  the  weeks  of  leisure  in 
getting  into  better  touch  with  the  progress  of 
biological  studies.  In  his  younger  years  that  study 
fascinated  him.  Later,  what  little  time  he  could  spare 
from  his  pastoral  duties,  was  given  to  reading  of 
the  works  of  both  conservative  and  revolutonary 
theorists  of  whom  Henri  Fabre  is  an  excellent 
representative  of  the  former,  and  Chas.  Darwin  of 
the  latter.  He  admired  the  vast  range  of  information 
and  experiment  of  both  classes  of  theorists;  but  the 
use  which  the  radicals  made  of  the  mountains  of 
evidence  amused  him  much  and  pained  him  more. 
The  amusement  was  in  the  fantastic  inferences  from 
most  interesting  evidence.  The  pain  was  caused  by 
the  realization  of  the  immense  moral  and  spiritual 
harm  to  mankind  from  such  an  abuse  of  reasoning 
indulged  in  by  men  who  were  in  the  lime-light  of  the 
world.  Among  the  books  which  the  Father  packed 
into  his  trunk  for  vacation  reading,  was:  "Men  of 
the  Stone  Age,"  by  Henry  F.  Osborn  an  octavo 
volume  of  500  pages,  learnedly  written  and  bristling 
with  the  hardest  kind  of  foreign  words  .  The  Hon. 
Theo.  Roosevelt's  laudatory  notice  of  the  work  in  the 
National  Geographical  Review  for  February  of  1916, 
prompted  the  selection.  Personal  regard  for  the 
reviewer  influenced  the  choice.  Rather  heavy  read- 
ing for  a  vacation;  but  then  the  good  Father's 
literary  tastes  ran  to  extremes  like  children's  stories 
and  Mr.  Osborn's  book. 


XN  the  early  days  of  July,  1918,  Father  Hill 
was  comfortably  settled  at  the  cheery  Hotel 
Ramona.  The  first  two  weeks  were  devoted 
to  getting  acquainted  with  the  delightful  neighbor- 
hood of  Pike's  Peak,  the  Garden  of  the  Gods  and 
several  interesting  canyons.  Much  of  his  time  at 
the  Ramona  was  spent  on  the  spacious  verandas, 
reading  and  re-reading  Mr.  Osborn's  book.  One 
afternoon,  Mr.  Levi  Strauss,  professor  of  biology 
at  the  University  of  Chicago,  expressed  surprise 
to  see  him,  a  Catholic  priest,  devote  so  much  time 
to  the  deliberate  reading  of  so  radical  a  book. 
Father  Hill  asked  him :  "What  is  it  that  surprises 
you  ?  Is  it  the  fact  that  I  am  whiling  away  the  hours 
of  vacation  in  the  reading  of  so  heavy  a  production?" 

Mr.  Strauss  replied:  "Not  that  nearly  so  much 
as  that  you  dare  read  such  a  book  at  all.  It  is 
bound  to  undermine  your  faith  in  so  many  beliefs 
which  you  are  in  duty  bound  to  preach  to  your 
people." 

"Will  you  please  mention  some  of  the  beliefs 
to  which  you  refer,"  said  Father  Hill. 

"As  an  instance,  answered  Mr.  Strauss,"  take 
the  Catholic  belief  about  the  first  man;  Adam. 
Catholics  are  obliged  to  believe  that  he  was  specially 
created  by  God;  that  he  lived  not  earlier  than 
twelve  thousand  years  ago,  most  likely  later, 
certainly  not  earlier.  Now  science  has  proved  that 
he  was  not  the  first  man;  that  he  was  not  specially 
created  by  God,  but  was  evolved  from  lower  forms; 
that  men  of  the  'homo  sapiens'  type  dwelt  in 
France  as  far  back  as  25,000  years  ago;  that  the 
Neanderthal  man  not  quite  so  human  as  the  former, 
lived  from  25,000  to  40,000  years  ago;  that  the 
Piltdown  man  of  Sussex,  England,  still  less  human, 
was  in  evidence  from  100,000  to  300,000  years  back; 
that  the  ape-men  of  Java  hunted,  it  is  estimated, 
as  long  as  500,000  years  ago.  The  name  of  the  last 
shows  that  man  came  from  apes,  and  not  from  God, 
that  man  is  product  of  evolution  and  not  of  a  special 
creative  act  of  God.  You  cannot  possibly  reconcile 
these  scientific  findings  with  Catholic  belief.  For 
this  reason  I  am  surprised  to  see  you  read  Mr. 
Osborn's  book  so  intently;  for  you  will  have  either 
to  give  up  your  faith  and  professional  calling, 
reject  science,  or  lead  the  double  life  of  preaching 
what  you  do  not  believe. 

"What  you  have  so  tersely  stated,  has  the  ap- 


28 


THE  "t  SIGN 


pearance  of  a  knock-out  against  Catholic  belief 
and  of  an  admonition  of  danger  to  me,"  replied 
Father  Hill.  "But  you  will  readily  admit  that  ap- 
pearances are  often  deceptive." 

"You  are  undoubtedly  right  about  appearances 
being  often  deceptive,"  answered  Mr.  Strauss;  "but 
surely,  you  do  not  mean  to  insinuate  that  Mr. 
Osborn's  contentions  about  the  origin  and  age  of 
man,  are  deceptive!" 

"To  say  that  I  insinuate  it,  is  putting  it  very 
mildly.  The  evidence  adduced  by  Mr.  Osborn  and 
the  use  made  of  it,  are  more  than  deceptive,"  de- 
clared Father  Hill."  However,  I  would  much  prefer 
to  have  you  state  the  evidence,  because  you  are,  at 
least  sympathetic  towards  the  radical  theories  so 
learnedly  presented  by  Mr.  Osborn.  Will  you  kindly 
explain  how  the  author  came  by  the  pictures  of  the 
men  of  so  long  ago.  Are  they  portraits  made  from 
living  subjects?  They  cannot  be  photos  unless 
some  prehistoric  beings  were  smarter  than  men  of 
centuries  very  close  to  ours.  It  is  not  likely  that 
pre-historic  men  mislaid  films  to  be  picked  up  by  the 
curious  of  later  centuries." 

"Father,"  spoke  Mr.  Strauss,  "it  is  incredible 
that  any  one,  even  the  most  illiterate,  could  so  much 
as  imagine  that  these  pictures  are  given  as  copies 
of  portraits  made  from  life.  The  author  states 
plainly  that  they  are  nothing  more  than  pictures  of 
restorations.  Of  course  they  are  not  photos  from  the 
original  subject." 

EATHER  Hill  answered  smilingly,  "Do  not  take 
it  quite  so  seriously,  Mr.  Strauss."  "I  knew 
that  these  pictures  are  neither  protraits  nor 
photos  from  life;  but  some  times  it  is  helpful  to 
call  attention  to  the  obvious.  These  pictures  are 
nothing  more  than  well-printed  copies  of  restorations. 
Whilst  I  believe  that  I  understand  what  is  meant 
by  restorations,  I  shall  appreciate  very  much  your 
explaining  what  they  are.  The  theories  presented  by 
Mr.  Osborn  do  not  appeal  to  me.  They  impress  me 
as  very  unscientific.  He  is  not  the  originator  of 
these  theories.  He  is  at  best  a  chronicler  of  the 
findings  of  other  scientists.  The  Hon.  Theo.  Roose- 
velt assures  readers  that  the  book  is  the  latest 
authoritative  word  on  the  ape  origin  of  man.  Not 
seeing  my  way  to  agree  with  this  distinguished 
gentleman's  view,  prejudice  may  distort  my  under- 
standing of  what  the  word  restoration  is  meant  to 
convey.  Yet  it  is  an  important  word  in  books  of  the 
type  of  Mr.  Osborn's." 


"It  will  be  a  pleasure  to  do  so,"  said  Mr. 
Strauss.  "Of  course,  the  word  has  different  mean- 
ings, according  to  the  profession  of  the  people  who 
use  it.  In  books  like  Mr.  Osborn's  it  has  two 
meanings.  The  Century  Dictionary  gives  these 
meanings  as  follows:  'The  putting  together  in  their 
proper  places  of  bones  and  other  remains  of  an 
extinct  animal;  also  the  more  or  less  ideal  repre- 
sentation of  the  external  form  and  aspect  of  such 
an  animal,  as  inferred  from  its  known  remains.' 
The  pictures  we  are  talking  about,  belong  to  the 
second  class  of  restorations.  They  are  inferred  ideal 
representations  of  prehuman  and  of  prehistoric 
men." 

"Good!"  exclaimed  Father  Hill.  "A  restora- 
tion is  the  product  of  a  scholarly  artist's  trained 
imagination.  The  basis  for  the  imagined  picture  or 
statue,  is  the  remains  of  extinct  animals,  near-men 
and  men  too.  The  more  complete  the  remains  are, 
the  less  play  will  there  be  for  imagination;  and  the 
more  scanty  these  remains  are,  the  more  will  the 
artist  in  color  or  clay  have  to  draw  on  his  imagination 
to  supply  what  is  wanting.  It  is  understood  that  the 
one  time  fleshy  and  ornamental  parts  will  depend 
entirely  on  the  inspiration  of  the  artist's  fancy.  He 
will  be  forced  to  imagine  them." 

"Quite  so,"  remarked  Mr.  Strauss.  "However, 
I  am  not  in  sympathy  with  your  use  of  the  word, 
imagination.  The  words,  ideal,  idealized,  inferred, 
would  be  more  elegant  and  more  suitable ;  but  I  will 
not  make  an  issue  of  it  now,  lest  we  get  away  from  the 
subject.  Permit  me  to  call  attention  to  a  very 
important  item,  whether  imagination  or  inference 
be  used.  The  restorer  must  be  both  an  artist  and 
either  a  scientist  himself  in  what  pertains  to  the 
structure  of  living  and  extinct  animals  and  men, 
or  he  must  be  guided  by  a  scientist  in  working  up 
the  ideal  representation.  Were  it  otherwise,  the 
restoration  would  be  the  work  of  an  unqualified 
artist." 

EATHER  Hill  admitted  the  added  explanation 
to  be  most  reasonable  and  continued:  "Pro- 
fessor, will  you  kindly  enlighten  me  on  the 
subject  of  laws  which  govern  both  artists  and 
scientists  in  working  up  these  idealized  representa- 
tions of  the  long  ago.  If  there  are  no  laws  of  rather 
uniform  application  to  fossil  remains,  too  much 
would  be  left  to  individual  imagination.  When 
dealing  with  fiction,  the  imagination  is  supreme; 
yet  there  are  laws  which  may  not  be  overstepped, 
unless  the  artist's  aim  is  caricature  or  other  grotesque 


29 


THE  t*  SIGN 


fanciful  production.  I  am  confident  that  evolution- 
ists would  not  care  to  have  their  restorations 
relegated  to  the  land  of  fiction  or  caricature." 

"I  see,  Father,  whither  you  are  leading  me," 
replied  Mr.  Strauss;  "but  for  the  purposes  of  a 
friendly  scientific  chat,  I  am  willing  to  be  led.  Your 
lead  is  towards  a  statement  that  restorations  are 
very  largely  the  products  of  imagination  and  that 
laws  of  uniform  application  to  fossil  remains  are  no 
more  available 
than  like  laws  of 
uniform  applica- 
tion for  animals 
and  men  of  to 
day.  Consider- 
ing that  animal 
forms  in  those 
far  back  ages 
were  in  a  greater 
condition  of 
flux,  gradually 
moving  from 
lower  forms  to 
higher,  the  laws 
of  structure  were 
of  less  uniform 
application  than 
now.  Then  as 
now,  there  were, 
no  doubt,  tall 
and  short  speci- 
mens, lean  ones 
and  stout  ones, 
angular  and 
rotund,  well- 
formed  and  de- 
formed,  even 
ai  o  n  s  t  r  osifies. 
There  were  ideal 
heads  and  facial  expression  and  there  were  freakish 
heads  and  repulsive  faces.  In  primordial  times  some 
animals  were  partly  normal  and  partly  abnormal. 
Some  members  of  the  Trinil  race  to  which  the  ape- 
man  of  Java  belonged,  may  have  had  spinal  curva- 
ture, hip  disease,  mal-formed  thigh  bones,  etc., 
whilst  the  rest  of  the  body  was  quite  normal,  con- 
sidering the  degree  of  evolution  which  they  had 
reached." 

"Thank  you,  Professor,"  said  Father  Hill. 
"Your  answer  and  explanation  are  very  satisfactory. 
There   are   laws   governing   these   restorations,   but 


The   Miracle  of  the   Roses 

To  Thomas  Walsh 
Francis  Kean  MacMurrough 

King  Diniz  IrOed  a  thousand  years  ago, 

And  saintly  then  as  now  was  Portugal 

A  land  of  hills  and  dales  and  flocks  and  herds, 
And  people  truly  mild  and  pastoral. 

Many  a  monastery  and  fair  shrine 

Of  Gothic,  Doric  or  of  Arabesque 
Raised  its  proportions  in  the  flowered  scene, 

And  marked  for  Christian  what  was  once  Moresque 

Don  Diniz'  Queen  was  Santa  Isabel, 

Daughter  of  Pedro  Third  of  Aragon, 
Who  one  day  had  her  apron  filled  with  bread, 

When  that  the  King  with  questrOe  e^e  looked  on. 

"What  have  you  there  my  Queen?"  he,  laughing,  asked, 
"Roses,  my  Lord,"  she  smilingly  replied. 

"Let  me  behold  them;"  which  and  when  he  saw, 
Roses  vJere  indeed    ^Cith  ribbons  tied. 


X 


they  are  so  elastic  that  necessarily  much  must  be 
left  to  the  fancy  of  the  individual  artist-scientist." 
"But  it  does  seem  reasonable  that  eminent  evo- 
lutionists should  be  agreed  at  least  on  one  of  two 
extremes.  The  extremes  are:  more  and  more  man- 
like; or,  more  and  more  ape-like.  To  be  sure, 
there  is  also  a  middle  course  between  these  extremes. 
Information  on  this  phase  of  the  matter  will  be  very 
welcome." 

REGRET 
to  be  com- 
pelled to 
admit  that  there 
is  no  agreement 
whatever  among 
eminent  evolu- 
tionists on  these 
points,"  Mr. 
Strauss  replied. 
"There  is  great 
divergence 
among  them  as 
to  the  rule  which 
should  be  fol- 
lowed.  Mr. 
Osborn  disap- 
proves  of 
German  and 
French  restora- 
tions, because 
they  are  too  ape- 
like. He  tells 
us  how  insistent 
he  is  with  his 
artists,  requiring 
them  to  produce 
the  most  man- 
like restorations, 
considering  the 
requirements  of  the  available  remains.  Hence, 
it  is  not  so  very  improbable  that  a  strong  believer 
in  radical  evolution  would  make  his  restorations 
look  more  and  more  ape-like  in  proportion  as 
the  available  remains  are  scantier  and  older.  A 
believer  in  the  Bible's  narration  of  the  origin  of 
man  could  use  the  very  same  remains  as  the  basis 
for  the  ideal  representation  of  a  presentable  speci- 
men of  present  day  manhood." 

"These  admissions,  Professor,"  said  Father  Hill, 
"are  more  than  I  expected  even  from  a  person  as 
gentlemanly  as  you  are.    The  value  of  these  restora- 


THE  1*  SIGN 


tions  as  evidence  in  favor  of  evolution  is  practically 
worse  than  nothing,  if  there  can  be  anything  lower 
than  nothing.  I  have  read  and  re-read  Mr.  Osborn's 
story  of  the  ape-man  of  Java.  I  have  examined  his 
pictures  of  the  same  creature  so  much,  that  the 
wonder  is  that  I  do  not  dream  about  them.  I  do  not 
envy  the  poor  specimen  his  looks;  but  I  do  not 
believe  it  necessary  to  go  back  quite  500,000  years 
to  find  men  of  somewhat  similar  appearance.  A 
few  years  ago,  I  accompanied  a  friend  to  an  exposi- 
tion of  an  electric  score  board  giving  the  progress 
of  a  game  between  the  pennant  competitors  of  the 
major  leagues  of  American  base  ball.  In  the  seats 
immediately  ahead  of  us,  sat  a  gentleman  accom- 
panied by  ladies  to  whom  he  was  explaining  the 
progression  of  the  score.  I  whispered  to  my  friend : 
'Catch  a  profile  view  of  the  man  sitting  ahead  of  us; 
for  he  looks  for  the  world  like  one  of  the  immediate 
descendants  of  the  ape-man  of  Java.'  I  had  been 
comparing  him  with  my  recollections  of  restorations 
of  the  Java  specimen  reproduced  by  Mr.  Osborn. 
Yet  the  gentleman  explaining  the  score-board  could 
hardly  have  been  more  than  fifty  years  old.  He 
was  every  bit  as  human  as  the  other  patrons  of  the 
theatre. — May  I  ask  you  how  much  of  the  remains 
of  the  Trinil  race  of  Java  had  been  found  up  to  the 
date  of  the  publication  of  Mr.  Osborn's  books?" 

"I  see,  Father,  that  you  persist  in  harping  on 
the  vagaries  of  the  scientist-artists'  imagination," 
replied  Mr.  Strauss.  "Your  aim  is  to  show  by 
leading  questions  that  the  claimed  great  antiquity 
and  ape-origin  of  man,  rest  on  no  better  foundation 
than  the  learned  fiction  and  personal  bias  of  other- 
wise scholarly  men  who  would  rather  trace  their 
origin  to  some  unchangeable  principle  of  upward 
progress  stored  away  in  monkey  nature  than 
acknowledge  themselves  to  be  descendants  of  a 
human  couple  specially  made  by  the  personal  God. 
You  imply  throughout  that  the  theories  reproduced 
by  Mr.  Osborn  do  not  rest  on  anything  like  scienti- 
fic grounds." 

"I  do  not  put  it  quite  as  pointedly  as  that," 
Father  Hill  answered.  "I  am  content  to  weigh  the 
evidence  adduced.  The  way  you  put  it  expresses 
my  convictions;  but  let  us  pass  this  over  and  discuss 
the  evidence.  It  is  not  my  good  fortune  often  to 
meet  one  whose  professional  studies  qualify  him  to 
give  information  on  the  supposed  evolution  of  the 
human  race,  who  is  sympathetic  towards  Darwinism, 
and  who  is  so  gentlemanly  in  giving  the  desired 
information.     But  lest  we  get  too  far  afield,  permit 


me  to  repeat  my  question  :  'How  much  of  the  remains 
of  the  Trinil  race  of  Java  have  been  found?" 

"Thank  you,  Father,  for  the  compliments,"  said 
Mr.  Strauss,  bowing.  "You  have  come  to  the 
weakest  point  in  the  story  of  the  ape-man  of  Java. 
The  remains  found  so  far  are  scanty  indeed.  They 
are:  A  SINGLE  UPPER  MOLAR  TOOTH;  THE 
TOP  OF  A  SKULL;  A  LEFT  THIGH  BONE; 
and  A  SECOND  MOLAR  TOOTH. 

^^^HE  priest  inquired:  "Is  this  all  that  has  come 
\^_J  down  to  us  of  the  remains  of  the  ape-men 
of  Java? 

"Father,"  spoke  up  Mr.  Strauss,  "you  surprise 
me.  Do  you  not  consider  it  marvellous  that  even 
so  much  should  have  come  to  us  from  a  period  so 
remote  as  500,000  years  ago!" 

"It  is  more  than  marvellous,"  mused  Father 
Hill.  "To  believe  that  any  animal  remains  buried 
in  the  earth,  unless  petrified,  could  have  withstood 
the  wear  and  tear  of  500,000  years,  taxes  credulity 
to  the  limit.  But  let  this  be  as  it  may,  let  us  take 
the  word  of  scientists  for  it  that  the  discovered 
remains  of  the  ape-man  of  Java  are  as  old  as 
estimated.  As  the  dinner  hour  is  drawing  near,  I 
would  very  much  like  to  bring  this  most  interesting 
conversation  back  to  what  started  it.  Are  eminent 
scientists  who  advocate  the  ape-origin  for  our  race 
agreed  that  these  four  fossil  remains  of  the  ape-man 
of  Java  belonged  to  the  same  individual? 

Mr.  Strauss:  "I  am  sorry  to  admit  there  is  no 
such  agreement." 

Father  Hill :  "Do  they  at  least  agree  that  these 
remains  belong  to  individuals  of  the  same  race?" 

Mr.  Strauss:  "I  must  again  admit  that  they  do 
not  even  agree  as  to  the  race  identity  of  these 
several  specimens.  Some  say  they  are  specimens 
of  the  same  race;  others  say  that  they  belong  to 
different  races." 

Father  Hill:  "Surely  they  agree  among  them- 
selves that  the  top  of  the  skull  is  a  transition  form 
between  ape  and  man.     Do  they  so  agree?" 

Mr.  Strauss:  "They  disagree  no  less  on  this 
important  point.  Here  is  the  way  Mr.  Osborn  sums 
up  the  situation:  'This  great  discovery  of  Dubois 
aroused  wide-spread  and  heated  discussion,  in  which 
the  foremost  anatomists  and  paleaeontolgists  of  the 
world  took  apart.  Some  regarded  the  skull  as  that 
of  a  giant  gibbon,  others  prehuman,  and  others  as 
a  transition  form.  We  may  form  our  own  opinion, 
however,  from  a  fuller  understanding  of  the  speci- 


al 


THE  +  SIGN 


mens  themselves,  always  keeping  in  mind  that  it 
is  a  question  whether  the  femur  and  the  skull  belong 
to  the  same  individual  or  even  the  same  race." 
Page  77. 

Father  Hill:  "Has  it  not  the  appearance  of 
trifling  with  the  intelligence  of  the  non-professional 
public,  to  discuss  on  evidence  so  scanty  and  uncertain 
the  Trinil  race  of  Java  as  a  something  which  really 
existed?" 

BFTER  a  considerable  pause,  Mr.  Strauss 
answered:  "Though  unwillingly,  I  must  con- 
cede that  evidence  so  inconclusive  would  be 
entirely  discarded  by  our  courts  of  justice.  It  is 
true  that  Mr.  Osborn's  treatment  of  the  existence 
of  the  Trinil  or  ape-man  race  is  apt  to  mislead 
uncritical  readers  of  whom  there  are  so  many.  How- 
ever he  safeguards  himself  by  restrictive  expres- 
sions, such  as:  "probably"  and  "possibly"  or  their 
equivalents  as  in  the  above  citation." 

Father  Hill:  "What  you  say,  is  true  not  only 
of  Mr.  Osborn's  book,  but  also  of  all  the  books 
published  by  radical  evolutionists,  which  have 
fallen  into  my  hands.  They  are  great  collectors  of 
facts  about  the  animal  world  and  this  world  cf 
ours  and  about  the  heavens;  but  when  it  comes  to 
using  these  facts  as  evidence  to  bolster  up  their 
degrading  theory  of  the  ape-origin  of  man,  they  shy 
at  the  science  and  art  of  inference  as  children  do. 
They  do  not  hesitate  to  infer  a  general  statement 
from  one  or  other  particular  fact,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  Trinil  race." 

Mr.  Strauss:  "I  see,  Father,  that  you  have  a 
very  poor  opinion  of  the  inductive  methods  of 
radical  evolutionists !' 

"To  me,"  replied  Father  Hill,"  their  reasoning 
is  often  like  the  burlesque  of  Mark  Twain's  "Huckle- 
berry Finn"  and  "Tom  Sawyer."  Their  processes  of 


inference  compare  favorably  with  Don  Quixote's 
attempts  at  chivalry.  In  a  maze  of  facts  more  or 
less  uniform  and  labeled  with  the  hardest  kind  of 
foreign  names,  they  infer  the  descent  of  higher 
forms  from  lower  ones  on  no  better  evidence  than 
lesser  or  greater  likeness.  Descent  is  in  no  wise 
implied  in  the  fact  of  similarity.  Their  style  of 
argument  is  very  much  akin  to  the  reputed  one  of 
ancient  sophists:  "Roosters  walk  on  two  legs,  so 
does  man;  therefore,  roosters  are  men  or,  if  you 
prefer,  men  are  roosters." 

"Oh,  Father,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Strauss,  "You  do 
not  mean  that  our  scientific  reasoning  impresses  you 
as  anything  so  incoherent  as  you  have  just  stated!" 

^^^HEY  concluded  their  discussion  in  the  best  of 
y,  J  humor  and  agreed  to  continue  the  same  at 
later  dates.  In  parting,  Father  Hill  addressed 
Mr.  Strauss :  "Do  you  still  think  that  reading  Mr. 
Osborn's  book  is  apt  to  undermine  Catholic  faith  in 
man's  coming  from  God  as  a  special  creation?"  Mr. 
Strauss  replied :  "If  the  evidence  adduced  in  support 
of  evolution  does  not  appeal  any  more  to  Catholics 
than  the  evidence  in  favor  of  the  ape-men  of  Java 
appeals  to  you,  I  can  readily  see  how  the  reading 
of  such  books  will  not  undermine  faith  in  Catholic 
doctrine  anent  the  origin  of  mankind.  I  am  not, 
however,  quite  so  sure  that  such  reading  will  not 
be  harmful  to  the  young  and  unlettered." 

Father  Hill  for  a  moment  assumed  the  role  of 
a  mild  monitor,  saying:  "It  is  in  this  that  radical 
evolutionists  prove  themselves  the  enemies  of 
mankind.  They  mislead  the  young,  the  unlettered 
and  those  people  of  somewhat  scholarly  habits  who 
have  been  badly  trained  in  their  letters.  There  is 
nothing  elevating  in  proclaiming  the  ape-origin  of 
man.  Belief  in  it  is  bound  to  degrade  the  individual 
and  the  race.    It  is  doing  so  now." 


^tt^E  recall  how  the  now  stilled  voice  of  the 
\\j  Shepherd  of  Christendom  was  raised  in  pro- 
test and  warning  against  the  new  peril  in 
the  Holy  Places.  The  outlook  grows  no  brighter 
with  Sir  Herbert  Samuel  disregarding  his  pledge 
that  Jewish  immigration  would  be  restricted.  Cardi- 
nal Bourne  claims  that  the  British  authorities  should 
say  whether  they  promised  a  National  Home  for 
the  Jews  or  the  National   Home.     And  he   added 


that  unless  this  distinction  is  made  clear  firmly  and 
beyond  all  doubt,  it  may  be  settled  in  blood.  Know- 
ing the  Arab  nature,  all  must  share  his  outlook. 


I  believe  that  the  only  way  you  can  make  sure 
that  submarines  will  not  be  abused  in  future  wars 
is  that  there  should  be  no  submarines. 

— Viscount  Grey. 


What   Do  You   Know   About: 


Vocations? 


ONE'S  vocation  is  among  the  most  serious 
of  all  questions  presenting  themselves 
during  one's  life-time.  And  observe  that 
it  must  present  itself  at  a  time  when  we 
are  least  capable  of  giving  it  a  satisfactory  answer — 
when  as  yet  we  have  not  settled  on  our  own  lot  in 
life,  nor  have  had  the  experience  of  others  to  guide 
us.  In  order,  therefore,  to  put  at  your  service  what- 
ever study  and  experience  and  personal  dealing 
with  many  others  have  taught  regarding  vocations, 
and  to  clarify  what  is  often  spoken  about  but  little 
understood  the  following  notes  are  submitted  on  this 
important  subject. 

Ordinarily,  what  is  understood  by  vocation  is 
realized  when  a  young  man  expresses  a  desire  to 
enter  the  religious  life,  or  feels  that  he  wants  to 
become  a  priest;  or  when  a  young  woman  grows 
conscious  of  a  longing  for  a  retired  life  in  a  convent, 
or  of  a  desire  to  devote  herself  as  a  religious  to  some 
great  work  of  charity.  We  say  in  these  cases  that 
such  a  young  man  or  such  a  young  woman  has  a 
vocation. 

Now  there  are  two  very  important  remarks  to 
make  about  this  idea  of  vocation.  In  the  first  place 
there  may  be  something  in  it.  It  may  be  the 
beginning  of  what  will  lead  up  to  or  bud  and  flower 
into  a  vocation  if  it  is  followed  up.  However  it 
may  be  something  entirely  different,  merely  a  pass- 
ing fancy,  a  whim  of  some  sort,  or  even  an  hallucina- 
tion. If  such  a  state  of  soul  persists,  however, 
notice  should  be  taken  of  it. 

The  second  observation  amounts  to  this;  it  is 
strange  that  we  hear  so  much  about  vocations  to 
the  priesthood  and  to  the  religious  life,  but  no  one 
ever  talks  about  a  vocation  to  the  state  of  marriage. 
There  exists  a  perfect  horror  of  being  unfaithful  to 
an  imaginary  religious  vocation,  and  there  is  even 
a  still  greater  fear  of  entering,  unbidden  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  speaking  interiorly,  into  the  sanctuary 
of  the  priesthood.  But  it  seems  to  be  the  common 
belief  that  outside  of  these  two  states  of  life  any- 
body at  all,  no  matter  what  their  condition,  of  body 
or  soul,  is  free  before  God,  to  enter  the  holy  state 
of  matrimony. 

What  is  the  reason  of  so  evident  an  error?  Is 
it   because   marriage   is   of   no   consequence   before 


God  and  men?  Is  marriage  after  all  less  important 
than  the  religious  life  or  even  the  priesthood?  Or 
is  marriage  less  holy  than  either  of  these  and  there- 
fore, has  God  no  special  interest  in  it?  As  a  matter 
of  fact  can  anybody  at  all  make  a  success  of  the 
very  fundamental  institution  of  life?  Or  are  there 
no  requirements  for  a  married  couple,  no  fitness  of 
mind  and  heart,  of  body  and  soul,  no  moral  qualifi- 
cations demanded?  Has  marriage  no  responsibili- 
ties, no  serious  duties  before  God? 

Common  sense  condemns  such  notions  as  false! 
For  marriage,  both  for  the  individual  and  for  society, 
is  just  as  important  as  the  religious  life,  and  can 
easily  be  compared  to  the  priesthood.  Marriage  is 
not  only  a  sacred  life-long  contract,  but  a  great 
sacrament.  "I  speak  in  Christ  and  in  the  Church." 
And  not  every  one  is  free  to  enter  it,  but  only  they 
who  are  called  by  God.  Only  they  dare  marry  who 
have  the  fitness  of  body,  and  only  they  who  can 
fulfill  its  weighty  responsibilities.  Otherwise  they 
enter  it  not  only  at  their  own  peril,  but  at  the  peril 
of  all  concerned.  To  hold  the  contrary  of  this  is 
an  error  about  vocation.  There  is  another,  which  we 
will  examine  and  treat  along  with  this  in  our  next 
installment. 

Concerning  this  most  important  subject,  St. 
Alphonsus  Liguori,  makes  the  following  remarks : — 
"It  is  evident  that  our  eternal  salvation  depends 
principally  upon  the  choice  of  our  state  of  life.  If 
in  the  choice  of  a  state  of  life  we  wish  to  secure  our 
eternal  salvation,  we  must  embrace  that  to  which 
God  calls  us,  in  which  alone  God  prepares  for  us 
the  means  necessary  to  our  salvation.  In  the  world 
this  doctrine  of  vocation  is  not  much  studied  by 
some  persons.  They  think  it  to  be  all  the  same, 
whether  they  live  in  the  state  to  which  God  calls 
them,  or  in  that  which  they  choose  of  their  own 
inclination,  and  therefore  so. many  live  a  bad  life. 
Whereas  it  is  certain  that  our  state  in  life  is  the 
principal  point  with  regard  to  the  acquisition  of 
eternal  life.  He  who  disturbs  this  order  and  breaks 
this  chain  of  salvation  endangers  his  salvation.  With 
all  his  labors  and  with  all  the  good  he  may  do,  St. 
Augustine  will  tell  him  'thou  runnest  well,  but  out 
of  the  way',  that  is  out  of  way  in  which  God  has 
called  you  to  walk  for  attaining  to  salvation." 


ArcKconfraternit})  of 


the   Sacred    Passion 


Tke  Compassion  of  Mar>) 


OURING  the  month  of  May,  all  devout  Catho- 
lics turn  their  attention  to  the  Immaculate 
Mother  of  God,  for  this  is  the  season  de- 
voted to  a  greater  veneration  of  her.    This 
is  the  time  the  Queen  of  Heaven  favors  her  children 
on  earth  with  very  many  gifts  and  blessings. 

Naturally  the  members  of  the  Archconfratern- 
ity  of  the  Passion  entertain  sincere  love  for  the 
Mother  of  Jesus.  As  they  spend  much  time  beneath 
the  Cross,  they  are  in  her  company.  With  the 
Apostle  St.  John,  they  behold  her,  "who  stood  at 
the  Cross,"  and  often  think  of  the  sorrows  she 
endured  during  the  Passion. 

The  Church  has  given  to  the  blessed  Virgin 
Mary  the  glorious  title  of  Queen  of  Martyrs.  The 
feast  commemorating  her  part  in  the  sufferings  of 
her  Son  has  often  been  called  the  Compassion  of 
Mary.  At  the  presentation  of  the  Child  Jesus  in  the 
temple,  Simeon  foretold  her  sorrows.  "Behold," 
said  he,  "this  Child  is  set  for  the  fall  and  for  the 
resurrection  of  many  in  Israel ;  and  for  a  sign  which 
shall  be  contradicted ;  and  thy  own  soul  a  sword  shall 
pierce."  The  ignominy,  the  insults,  the  wounds 
inflicted  on  Him  pierced  her  heart  like  a  sword. 
This  was  especially  true  when  the  soldier  opened 
the  sacred  side  of  Jesus  with  a  spear,  for  although 
He  was  dead,  Mary  then  suffered  the  most. 

"The  martyrdom  of  Mary,"  observes  Father 
Petitalot,  "began  with  the  first  knowledge  which 
the  prophecies  gave  her  of  the  sufferings  which  the 
Redeemer  would  have  to  endure.  It  increased  when 
she  was  chosen  to  be  the  Mother  of  that  Redeemer, 
destined  to  die  a  cruel  death  for  the  sins  of  the 
world." 

'  It  became  more  intense,"  he  continues,  "when 
she  heard  the  words  of  holy  Simeon,  and  saw  flowing 
the  first  drops  of  blood  of  Our  Savior.  It  con- 
tinued during  the  thirty  three  years  of  Our  Lord's 
life.  It  attained  its  greatest  intensity  during  the 
hours  of  His  Passion." 

"Even  after  the  Resurrection  and  Ascension  it 
did  not  entirely  cease.  Mary  suffered  as  long  as 
she  lived,  for  she  could  not  forget  any  of  her 
sorrows.  It  is  believed  she  recalled  the  painful 
remembrance  every  day  by  visiting  the  places  where 


she  beheld  the  sufferings  of  her  Adorable  Son." 

"As  salt  is  found  in  all  the  waters  of  the  ocean, 
so  this  suffering  spread  itself  throughout  the  entire 
life  of  Mary.  This  is  why  the  name  of  Mary  is 
equivalent  to  the  Latin  words:  Mare  amarum,  the 
sea  of  sorrows." 


o 


LEVOTION  to  Mary  the  Mother  of  Sorrows 
has  always  been  a  special  characteristic  of 
men  and  women,  who  devoted  much  time  to 
the  study  of  Our  Lord's  Sacred  Passion.  It  would 
seem  as  if  they  went  to  her  as  to  their  teacher  and 
guide  in  this  holy  mystery.  It  was  her  courage  and 
her  patient  perseverance  that  kept  them  in  the  way 
of  virtue  and  holiness,  in  the  practice  of  penance 
and  self  denial,  but  particularly  in  the  humility 
and  obedience  of  the  Cross. 

Some  saints  venerated  the  Mother  of  Sorrows 
by  keeping  a  picture  of  her  constantly  with  them. 
This  was  the  practice  of  the  great  founder  of  the 
Jesuit  Order,  St.  Ignatius  of  Loyola.  It  was  a  small 
picture  representing  the  Blessed  Virgin  standing 
at  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  showed  a  sword  trans- 
piercing her  heart.  To  her  this  saint  addressed  his 
frequent  prayers.  In  giving  this  picture  to  his 
nephew,  St.  Ignatius  said:  "Since  the  day  of  my 
conversion,  when  I  exchanged  my  secular  dress  for 
the  garb  of  a  penitent,  this  picture  has  never  left 
me.  I  have  always  had  it  on  my  heart  with  my 
crucifix,  and  I  have  received  from  it  wonderful 
help." 

Much  the  same  is  told  of  St.  Gabriel  of  the 
Sorrowful  Virgin.  All  during  his  religious  life, 
where  he  succeeded  in  reaching  the  highest  sanctity, 
he  ever  kept  near  him  a  small  picture  of  the  Mother 
of  Sorrows.  When  dying,  it  was  this  picture  he 
pressed  closely  to  his  heart. 

We  learn  from  the  example  of  other  saints  to 
repeat  some  prayer  every  day  in  memory  of  the 
sorrows  of  Our  Lady.  St.  Gabriel's  favorite  prayer 
was  seven  Hail  Marys  with  the  invocation:  "0 
Afflicted  Mother,  0  Virginal  Heart,  all  buried  in 
the  Wounds  of  Thy  Son,  make  my  poor  prayers  of 
value  by  thy  intercession."  He  would  also  repeat 
the  verse :  "Holy  Mother,  pierce  me  through,  in  my 
heart  each  Wound  renew,  of  my  Jesus  Crucified." 


THE  +  SIGN 


XN  the  thirteenth  century,  seven  noblemen  of 
Florence,  in  Italy,  were  inspired  by  the 
Blessed  Virgin  to  found  an  order  of  religious 
men,  who  would  spread  devotion  to  her  sorrows 
throughout  the  world.  They  became  known  as  the 
Servants  of  Mary,  of  the  Servites  of  Mary.  Through- 
out Europe  they  preached  the  Passion  of  Our  Lord 
and  devotion  to  the  Sorrows  of  Mary.  To  them 
we  owe  the  beads  of  the  Seven  Dolors,  which  have 
been  endowed  by  many  Popes  with  the  richest 
indulgences  of  the  Church.  An  indulgence  of  two 
hundred  years  is  granted  to  all  the  faithful  who 
recite  the  beads  of  the  Seven  Dolors  after  going 
to  Confession.  An  indulgence  of  ten  years  is  granted 
to  those,  who  carry  this  chaplet  around  with  them, 
and  say  it  from  time  to  time. 

Many  people  also  honor  the  Queen  of  Martyrs 
by  saying  the  hymn:  "Stabat  Mater  Dolorosa." 
This  hymn  is  found  in  all  prayer  books,  and  is 
usually  said  with  the  Stations  of  the  Cross.  It  is 
said  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  the  famous  novelist,  that  he 
admired  the  Stabat  Mater  so  much,  that  he  would 
have  given  all  his  works  to  have  been  the  composer 
of  it.  His  last  prayer  when  dying  was  his  favorite 
hymn  the  "Stabat  Mater." 

y^^HERE  are  many  other  devotions  in  honor  of 
V  J  the  Mother  of  Sorrows.  A  visit  to  the  Shrine 
of  the  Sorrowful  Mother,  or  the  reading  of 
some  book  which  makes  known  her  Sorrows  are 
ways  of  honoring  the  Blessed  Virgin  and  obtaining 
her  favors. 

"Whoever  desires  to  know  the  Mother  of  God, 
Mary  Most  Holy,"  says  Father  Faber,  "must  enter 
into  her  broken  heart  to  do  so.  It  is  the  Sorrowful 
Mother,  who  illumines  the  Immaculate  Conception 
and  the  wonderous  glory  of  the  Assumption."  In 
his  book  "At  the  Foot  of  the  Cross,"  Father  Faber 


also  tells  us  there  are  four  favors  that  are  granted 
to  those  who  practice  some  devotion  in  memory  of 
the  Sorrows  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  "A  perfect 
contrition  of  all  sins  before  the  moment  of  death; 

2.  A  particular  protection  at  the  hour  of  death; 

3.  The  mysteries  of  the  Passion  of  Our  Lord 
deeply  imprinted  on  the  mind;  4.  A  special  power 
of  intercession  in  all  the  prayers  offered  through 
the  Sorrowful  Mother." 

HATHER  Faber  in  the  same  work  quotes  an  old 
writer  as  saying:  "A  man  may  put  before 
himself  as  a  most  assured  sign  of  salvation 
the  fact  that  he  has  had  compassion  for  our  Most 
Afflicted  Mother.  For  the  ancients  tell  us  that  it 
was  conceded  to  the  Blessed  Virgin  by  Christ  Our 
Lord  that  whoever  should  remember  her  sorrows 
may  be  sure  of  obtaining  any  favor  which  concerned 
the  salvation  of  his  soul,  and  especially  the  grace 
of  true  penance  for  his  sins  before  death." 

"The  Compassion  of  Mary,"  continues  the  same 
pious  author,  "is  a  continual  source  of  holiness.  It 
actually  leads  a  multitude  of  souls  to  Jesus  Cruci- 
fied. It  breaks  the  bonds  of  sin  and  evil  habits. 
It  melts  cold  hearts  and  stimulates  the  torpid  and 
worldly  minded.  It  pours  light  and  tenderness,  a 
spirit  of  prayer  and  a  thirst  for  penance  into  count- 
less souls." 

The  more  devoted  the  members  of  the  Arch- 
confraternity  are  to  the  Mother  of  Sorrows  the  better 
they  will  know  and  love  the  Passion  of  Our  Lord. 
This  is  the  sphere  in  which  the  most  wonderful 
divine  operations  mingle  with  the  woes  and  suffer- 
ings of  this  world.  With  Mary  the  Mother  of 
Sorrows  and  with  Jesus  Crucified,  we  can  overcome 
sin  and  the  world  and  the  devil  and  secure  for 
ourselves  and  for  others  innumerable  blesings. 


That  rare,  sweet  singer  of  the  South,  Sidney 
Lanier,  bringing  the  vision  of  a  poet  to  bear  upon 
his  Master  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  depicts 
the  Victim  much  as  He  represents  Himself  to  us  in 
our  meditations — forsaken,  helpless  against  the 
wiles  of  His  enemies,  yet,  somehow,  with  a  note  of 
impending  triumph  softly  ringing  through  the 
poignant  lines : 

"Into  the  woods  my  Master  went, 
Clean  forespent,  forespent, 
Into  the  woods  my  Master  came, 
Forespent  with  love  and  shame. 


But  the  olives  they  were  not  blind  to  Him, 
The  little  grey  leaves  were  kind  to  Him; 
The  thorn-tree  had  a  mind  to  Him 
When  into  the  woods  He  came. 

Out  of  the  woods  my  Master  went, 

And  He  was  well  content. 

Out  of  the  woods  my  Master  came, 

Content  with  death  and  shame. 

When  death  and  shame  would  woo  Him  last, 

From  under  the  trees  they  drew  Him  last; 

'Twas  on  a  tree  they  slew  Him  last — 

When  out  of  the  woods  He  came." 


From   Shanghai  to   Hankow 


With  the  Passionist  Missionaries 


ON  awakening  on  the  morning 
of  January  10th,  we  learnt  that 
the  uncertain  outlines  in  the 
distance,  which  we  were  approaching 
was  the  great  sea-port  of  Shanghai, 
China.  We  gave  utterance  to  our 
heartfelt  gratitude  to  God,  and  beg- 
ged His  Blessings  on  our  work  in 
this  land  which  was  to  be  for  us, 
HOME. 

As  the  boat  lazily  drifted  to  dock, 
there  was  the  same  swarm  of  beg- 
gars rowing  towards  the  boat,  crying 
lustily  for  alms.  Those  on  board 
threw  fruits  and  sweetmeats,  in  fact 
anything  at  hand,  and  everything 
was  eagerly  caught  in  the  nets  which 
were  stretched  towards  us  by  the 
hundreds.  One  wag  threwr  a  box 
of  soap  powder  from  the  boat.  The 
lucky  finder,  held  it  up,  examined 
it  carefully,  shook  it,  smelt  it,  and 
finally  tucked  it  away  carefully 
among  the  other  treasures  he  had 
garnered. 

Arriving  we  had  the  usual  experi- 
ence with  the  customs  officers, 
questioning,  and  examination  of  lug- 
gage. As  soon  however,  as  he  saw 
the  sacred  vessels  used  for  the 
celebration  of  Holy  Mass,  he  asked 
if  we  were  missionaries,  and  when 
we  satisfied  him,  we  were  he 
smilingly  allowed  us  to  go  without 
further  examination. 

It  is  a  strange  feeling  that  came 
over  us  as  we  stepped  from  the  boat, 
utter  strangers  and  unknown.  This 
feeling  however  was  shortlived  for 
after  a  very  few  moments  we  were 
accosted  by  Mr.  J.  E.  Doyle  of 
Danvers,  Mass.,  who  is  familiarly 
known  in  Shanghai  as  "Dinny."  He 
bade  us  welcome  and  escorted  us  to 
the  rooms  of  St.  Joseph's  Catholic 
Association,  where  another  welcome 
was  extended  to  us  by  those  present. 
This  Association  is  a  welfare  and 
social  centre  for  the  English  speak- 
ing Catholics  of  the  city,  and  is  the 
means  of  directing  the  energies  of 
the  laymen  to  co-operate  with  the 
work  of  the  clergy  on  behalf  of  the 
poor  benighted  pagans.  One  can- 
not but  feel  that  back  in  America 
there  arc  so  many  excellent  Catholic 


men  and  women  who  do  not  realize 
the  possibilities  for  good  they  are 
missing,  by  holding  aloof  from  any 
kind  of  activity  on  behalf  of  the 
Church.  These  men  and  women 
under  the  administration  of  Mr. 
Harold  Norman  and  his  gifted  wife, 
give  generously  both  of  time  and 
money,  and  the  work  they  have 
accomplished  to  win  the  admiration 
of  the  natives,  and  many  converts, 
as  a  result,  might  well  be  envied  by 
the  Catholics  of  the  good  old 
United  States.  Mr.  Norman  is  him- 
self a  convert  to  the  Church. 


R 

m 

ji 

« 

Efe 

£ 

£ 

m 

£C 

We  were  escorted  now  to  St. 
Joseph's  Convent,  Sisters  of  The 
Holy  Souls.  The  Mother  Superior 
is  a  native  of  Baltimore,  Md.,  and 
it  is  impossible  to  describe  her  joy 
at  meeting  us,  just  come  from 
America.  We  were  shown  the  noble 
and  self  sacrificing  work  in  which 
these  heroic  souls  are  engaged,  and 
we  realized  here  as  in  the  other 
places  we  had  visited,  our  Lord's 
words: — "The  harvest  is  ripe  but 
the  laborers  are  few." 


W 


^HILE  passing  along  the  streets 

of    Shanghai,    we    could    not 

restrain    our    admiration    for 

the   cheerful   spirit   of   the   Chinese. 

The    rickshaw    men    as    they    draw 

36 


their  carriages  or  rickshaws,  the 
coolies  as  they  carry  heavy  burdens 
on  their  backs,  or  pull  heavily 
loaded  wagons  by  means  of  ropes 
thrown  over  their  shoulders,  the 
children  in  schools,  all  without 
exception  are  continuously  singing, 
a  plaintive  and  monotonous  dirge 
or  song.  A  smiling  or  laughing  coun- 
tenance is  seen  at  all  times,  even 
when  poverty  and  dire  want,  are 
evidenced  by  the  scanty  clothing  or 
emaciated  body. 

Our  next  visit  was  to  the  General 
Hospital,  under  the  direction  of  the 
Franciscan  Missionary  Sisters  of 
Mary,  a  community  well  known  in 
the  United  States,  for  the  unselfish 
charity  of  its  work  for  the  poor  of 
Christ.  Here  too,  where  the  dread 
small-pox  is  raging,  is  to  be  seen, 
the  charity  of  Jesus  Christ,  that 
knows  no  fear  of  personal  safety, 
but  only  a  zeal  to  open  the  doors 
of  God's  Kingdom  to  these  poor 
pagans.  Baptisms  and  conversions 
to  the  Faith  are  most  numerous. 

Shanghai,  impresses  one  as  a  city, 
comparing  favorably  with  our 
American  cities,  and  signs  of  pros- 
perity and  business  inititive  are  not 
wanting.  The  Hongkong-Shanghai 
Banking  Company,  are  at  present 
erecting  a  building  that  is  to  cover 
an  entire  city  block,  and  our 
chaperon  told  us,  would  cost  no  less 
than  five  million  American  dollars. 
The  shops  are  not  unlike  those  in 
our  own  cities.  Automobiles,  of 
American  and  British  make,  are  not 
so  many  as  in  America,  yet  they 
are  not  new  or  strange.  There  are 
about  four  thousand  in  Shanghai  we 
were  told.  Motor  trucks  are  also  to 
be  seen,  though  most  of  the  heavy 
hauling  is  done  on  low  wagons,  with 
wooden  wheels,  and  are  drawn  by 
shaggy  haired,  fierce  looking  men. 

The  street  cars  are  quite  different 
from  what  we  had  ever  seen  before. 
They  are  joined  in  pairs,  much  like 
a  trailer  to  the  power  car.  But  here 
it  marks  the  different  quality  of  the 
riders.  The  front  car  carries  first 
and  second  class  passengers,  and  the 
trailer   or    rear    car,   the   passengers 


THE  1*  SIGN 


WITH   THE   AUGUS 


of  the  third  class.  Usually  the  rear 
car  resembles  the  American  cars  at 
rush  hours,  packed  to  suffocation. 
At  the  stops  along  the  way,  pas- 
sengers are  scarcely  allowed  time  to 
alight,  and  not  un  frequently  they 
fall  to  the  street  :  but  the  cheerful 
smiling  countenance  is  never  want- 
ing, even  when  by  effort  they 
manage  to  keep  their  feet. 

ONh"  of  the  most  interesting 
visits  we  made  was  to  the 
Catholic  Mission  of  Kiang- 
Nan,  under  the  direction  of  the 
Fathers  of  the  Society  of  Jesus. 
Of  this  mission  Siccawei  is  perhaps 
the  most  flourishing  among  all  tin- 
missions  of  China.  Ample  buildings 
are  occupied  as  college,  schools,  and 
dormitories.  The  girls-section  is 
under  the  care  and  direction  of  the 
Sisters  of  the  Holy  Souls,  and  the 
Boys  under  the  care  of  the  Fathers 
of  the  Society.  The  boys  are  in- 
structed not  only  in  the  ordinary 
branches  of  primary  and  secondary 
schools,  but  manual  training  and  the 
higher  branches  of  science  are  im- 
parted by  men  celebrated  through- 
out   the    Orient. 

The  departments  under  the  care 
of  the  good  sisters  were  not  less  in- 
teresting; besides  the  instruction 
imparted  in  the  schools,  the  girls 
are  taught  lace  making,  embroidery, 
and  the  making  of  vestments  for  the 
missions.  There  are  also  special 
classes  for  ladies  preparing  to  be- 
come catechists ;  they  are  called 
Presentandines.  We  could  not  but 
admire  all  we  saw,  and  thanked  God 


fervently  for  the  zeal  which  had 
prompted  such  enterprise  to  win 
souls  to  God  and  for  heaven. 

We  found  it  difficult  to  tear  our- 
selves away  from  the  orphan  asylum, 
where  are  housed,  hundreds  of 
abandoned  little  ones.  They  all 
knelt  for  the  blessing  of  the  priests, 
and  as  we  left  each  room,  there  was 
a  hearty  goodbye,  in  the  sweet 
voiced  za  !  za  !  But  our  very  souls 
were  touched  with  pity  as  we 
entered  what  the  good  sister  called 
the  "Vestibule  of  Heaven."  Here 
were  long  rows  of  small  beds  each 
holding  a  frail  emaciated  little  body. 
On  the  coverlet  was  a  small  card 
giving  the  baptismal  name  of  the 
occupant.  Abandoned  by  heartless 
parents,  they  were  rescued  by  the 
sisters,    baptized,    and    hourly    were 


winning  their  flight  to  heaven,  and 
we  hope  interceeding  for  mercy  and 
grace  for  their  poor  benighted 
countrymen.  As  in  the  early  days 
of  the  Church  it  was  said,  "the  blood 
of  martyrs  is  the  seed  of  Christians," 
so  nov  may  we  fondly  hope  the 
prayers  of  these  innocents  incessant- 
ly rising  before  God's  throne  will  in 
time  win  for  China  as  a  race  the 
gra<  e  i  A  the  Faith.  It  maj  no1  be 
without  interest  to  our  readers  t" 
know  it  is  for  smh  lofty  purposes, 
that  the  contributions  given  to  the 
Holy  Childhood  Association,  and 
other  Foreign  Mission  Societies  are 
used.  1 1  you  could  sec  as  v, c  have 
seen,  the  wan  and  pinched  features 
of  these  dying  infants,  outcasts  from 
their  parents,  the  sacrifices  made  for 
the  work  of  the  foreign  missions 
would  be  far  greater.  This  sight 
has  been  an  inspiration  to  us,  and 
if  we  needed  further  motive  to  urge 
us  on,  surely  the  human  soul,  in 
need  of  the  salvation  wrought  by 
our  Saviour  by  the  shedding  of  His 
precious  Blood,  and  His  Death  on 
the  Cross,  would  be  most  powerful 
to  make  us  willing  to  endure  any 
hardships  in  this  grand  work  to 
which    we    have    been    called. 

QT  last  it  was  possible  for  us 
to  obtain  shipping  to  bring 
us  another  lap  of  our  journey 
nearer  to  the  seat  of  our  future 
activities.  On  Friday  January  15th. 
we  set  out  on  an  English  boat,  call- 
ed "Tuckwo,"  the  same  boat  that 
carried  the  Fathers  of  the  Maynooth 


THE  +  SIGN 


Irish  Mission  to  their  destination. 
Our  objective  was  Hunan,  and  the 
journey  while  quite  long,  lasting  till 
the  following  Tuesday,  was  not  with- 
out profit,  as  we  were  accompanied 
by  Fathers  Castrillo  and  Pastor, 
both  Spanish  Augustinians.  They 
have  been  laboring  in  this  district 
for  some  years  and  their  experience 
will  be  most  helpful  to  us  in  our 
future  labors.  The  trip  up  the 
Yangtze-Kiang  river  was  most 
delightful.  The  passengers  aboard 
were  not  many,  a  former  sea  captain, 
and  the  little  daughter  of  the  captain 
of  our  craft,  were  the  only 
foreigners,  besides  the  Fathers  that 
made  up  our  party. 

The  scenery  along  the  river  was 
most  beautiful.  The  old  sea  captain 
declared  it  the  most  scenic  route  in 
the  world,  and  proudly  insisted  that 
he  knew.  The  water  was  quite  low, 
and  the  soil  is  most  rich.  Immedi- 
ately on  the  recession  of  the  water, 
there  appears  on  the  terraced 
slopes  or  banks,  a  rich  green 
verdure,  that  reaches  to  the  water's 
edge.  We  were  told  that  a  mere 
scratching  of  the  surface  of  the 
soil  along  the  river  banks  is  suffici- 
ent for  tillage,  and  the  same  soil 
yields  four  or  five  crops  yearly. 

\%'HE  steamer  stopped  only  at 
€  J  treaty  ports.  If  passengers 
^^^  wished  to  get  aboard  at 
stations,  a  method  of  procedure  quite 
uncommon  was  followed.  Our  first 
sight  of  such  a  station  afforded  much 
amusement.  At  Nantingchow  a 
barge  or  flat  boat  was  seen  putting 
out  from  the  landing  towards  the 
steamer,  and  every  one  aboard  the 
float  seemed  to  be  yelling  as  lustily 
as  possible.  This  became  louder  and 
louder  as  they  approached,  (nothing 
seems  to  be  accomplished  here  with- 
out shouting  and  yelling).  The 
engines  on  the  steamer  stopped,  the 
boat  floated  along  slowly.  Hooks 
were  thrown  up  from  the  barge  and 
it  was  made  fast  to  the  steamer,  and 
then,  the  fun  began.  It  was  the  fall 
of  Jerusalem  on  a  small  scale.  Bags, 
boxes,  bales,  and  even  Chinese  men 
and  women,  were  tumbled  from  the 
steamer  in  riotous  profusion.  Then 
those  who  sought  entrance  to  the 
Tuckwo,  clammered,  stumbled  fell 
or  were  pushed  up  the  ladder.    One 


would  think,  looking  at  this  excite- 
ment, that  there  would  not  be  an- 
other boat  leaving  for  Hankow  for 
ten  years,  and  that  it  was  the  first 
boat  that  they  had  ever  seen. 

Each  port  of  the  Yangtze  is  but 
a  repitition  of  the  former  one.  Long 
lines  of  coolies  unloading  the  cargo, 
venders  of  sweetmeats,  and  more 
solid  foods,  selling  these  to  the 
Chinese  passengers,  a  fight  now  and 
then,  which  was  generally  settled 
by  one  of  the  deck  hands  throwing 
a  pail  of  cold  water  on  the  com- 
batants. 

ON  Tuesday  we  arrived  at  Han- 
kow, and  were  met  at  the 
steamer  by  Rev.  Fr.  Pons, 
Procurator  of  the  Augustinians,  Rev. 
Fr.  McPolin,  of  the  Maynooth  Irish 
Mission.  Later  we  met  Rev.  Fr. 
Galvin  the  superior,  and  had  we 
been  members  of  his  mission  band 
could  not  have  been  shown  greater 
kindness,  which  indeed  is  true  of  all 
the  Fathers  we  have  been  privileged 
to  meet  in  the  Far  East.  While 
visiting  both  the  Augustinians,  and 
the  Irish  Mission  Fathers,  they  were 
most  gracious,  explaining  to  us  the 
conditions  that  confront  us,  the  best 
method  of  procedure,  for  winning 
the  good  will  of  the  natives,  and 
have  made  us  feel,  that  we  are  come 
among  brothers  who  will  ever  be 
willing  to  lend  any  aid  in  their  power 
to  help  us  in  the  great  work  we  are 
come  to  do.  The  Fathers  of  the 
Irish  Mission,  have  accomplished 
much,  in  the  short  time  they  have 
been  in  the  field.  They  have  been 
instrumental  in  bringing  a  com- 
munity of  Irish  Christian  Brothers 
to  China,  a  pioneer  band  of  Irish 
Sisters  are  expected  shortly,  and 
they  have  projected  the  erection  of 
a  hospital  for  the  care  of  the  native 
sick.  Too  much  cannot  be  said  in 
praise  of  their  zeal  for  God  and  for 
the  conversion  of  the  souls  of  these 
poor  benighted  pagans. 

The  following  day  we  visited  in 
turn  the  Orphanage,  School,  and 
Hospital  in  charge  of  the  Cannosian 
Sisters.  The  work  they  are  accom- 
plishing is  simply  marvelous.  We 
could  not  but  feel  at  every  turn  if 
the  people  of  America  could  only 
realize  the  amount  of  good  that  is 
being  done  for  God  in  these  far  off 
38 


regions,  sufferings  relieved,  care 
extended  to  the  homeless,  the  blind, 
sick,  and  what  results  from  all  this 
concern  and  care  for  the  natives, 
that  they  embrace  the  faith  of  Christ 
and  become  devoted  Christians, 
there  would  be  no  lack  of  funds  to 
carry  on  the  work  of  God  among 
those  in  the  darkness  of  error  and 
ignorance.  If  those  among  us,  would 
retrench  from  pleasures,  and  super- 
fluities, chapels  and  mission  stations 
could  be  established,  and  fitted  up; 
but  alas  everywhere  the  work  is 
limited  by  the  means.  The  priests, 
brothers  and  sisters  are  content  with 
bare  neccessities,  so  that  they  may 
reach  out  for  a  few  more  souls. 
What  the  children  of  America  might 
do  by  their  too  easily  squandered 
pennies,  is  beyond  me  to  describe; 
but  I  feel  sure  if  they  could  be  made 
to  realize  this  by  those  who  know, 
every  class  room  in  the  Catholic 
schools  of  the  United  States,  would 
develop  into  a  mission  circle,  and  the 
little  ones  would  gladly  bring  their 
mites  to  help  the  grand  work  to  save 
souls. 

^tt^E  also  visited  the  College  of 
r  I  1  the  Franciscan  Fathers  across 
v*>^  the  river,  and  while  there  met 
Fr.  Sylvester  from  Cincinnati,  Fr. 
Lawrence  from  Paterson,  and  Bro. 
Benedict  from  Dayton.  There  was 
a  grand  old  patriarch  present,  Fr. 
Leri,  a  Franciscan  who  has  been 
here  on  the  missions  for  fifty  five 
years.  When  he  first  came  the  dis- 
trict was  closed  to  the  foreigners 
under  pain  of  death.  He  went  about 
disguised  as  a  beggar,  and  saw  many 
of  his  companions  cut  down  in  the 
midst  of  their  labors  by  hardships 
and  not  unfrequently  by  the  hands 
of  assassins.  Thank  God  this  condi- 
tion is  no  longer  general. 

Here  in  Hankow  we  also  had  the 
privilege  of  assisting  at  services  in 
Church  while  the  native  Catholics 
were  present.  They  were  having 
Stations  of  the  Cross  and  Benedic- 
tion of  the  Blessed  Sacrament.  This 
service  is  quite  general  we  are  told, 
the  year  round  among  the  Catholic 
Chinese.  The  prayers  for  the  dif- 
ferent stations  were  recited  by 
the  people  in  a  loud  tone,  that 
resembled  singing  rather  than  pray- 
ing,   while    the    priest    moved    from 


THE  +  SIGN 


station  to  station.  The  people  gave 
the  impression  of  being  very  earnest 
and  very  devout,  and  all  were  eager 
to  be  up  close  to  the  altar.  At 
Benediction  of  the  Blessed  Sacra- 
ment, celebrant,  censer  bearer,  and 
altar  boys  entered  the  sanctuary 
wearing  the  ecclesiastical  hat  called 
chi-chin.  It  is  about  nine  inches 
high,  square  in  shape,  richly  embroi- 
dered, with  two  embroidered  rib- 
bons hanging  down  the  back.  The 
singing  of  the  service  was  creditably 
rendered,  and  one  could  not  but  be 
impressed  by  the  devout  attitude  of 
the  worshippers. 

We  were  anxious  to  get  away  from 
Hankow  and  on  to  our  own  portion 
of  the  Lord's  vineyard,  but  Father 
Pons  who  has  been  here  since  1880 
persuaded  us  to  remain  longer,  as  the 
Chinese  are  celebrating  one  of  the 
New  Year's  Festivals.  They  cele- 
brate three  New  Year  festivals,  on 
the  first,  fifth  and  eighth  months. 
This  one  is  by  far  the  greatest, 
lasting  in  the  cities  three  or  four 
days,  but  in  the  interior  for  as  long 
as  ten  or  twelve  days.  During  this 
time  they  will  do  no  work,  either 
on  land  or  on  the  water  craft,  hence 
had  we  been  on  our  way  it  is  more 
than  likely  we  should  have  been 
marooned   on   the   small   boat. 

Profiting  by  the  prolonged  stay 
we  visited  another  hospital  in  charge 
of  the  Franciscan  Missionary  Sisters, 
already  mentioned  in  this  letter. 
This  hospital  is  called  the  Inter- 
national. Their  missions  in  China 
are  many.  Five  sisters  arrived  to- 
day, destined  for  a  mission  in  remote 
Sechewan.  The  Mother  Superior 
is  off  making  the  visitation  of  the 
various  missions  in  charge  of  the 
Sisters  under  her  jurisdiction.  It 
will  take  her  two  years  to  accom- 
plish this  task.  She  will  be  obliged 
to  travel  on  foot,  on  horse  back, 
by  chair,  and  by  Chinese  boats. 
They  entertain  no  fear  for  her 
safety,  for  the  pagans  have  the 
highest  respect  for  these  noble 
women.  They  are  the  guardian 
angels  of  the  Chinese  missions,  and 
without  them  it  is  dificult  to  see 
how  the  work  could  progress  as  it 
does.  Hardly  ever  does  it  happen 
that  a  soul  wings  its  flight  hence, 
till  these  sisters  have  persuaded 
them     to     receive     the     sacraments. 


Even  the  Protestant  ministers  when 
ill,  prefer  to  come  to  the  Sisters' 
hospital  rather  than  go  to  the  public, 
or  even  their  own  sectarian  ones. 

Vw-^IIILE  we  visited  one  of  the 
ill  orphanages  in  Hankow,  we 
^*^  wire  quite  surprised  to  see  a 
medium  sized  statue  of  our  little 
St.  Gabriel,  and  we  saw  the  bright 
faces  of  the  little  ones  light  up  with 
joy,  when  they  saw  the  resemblance 
between  the  habit  on  the  statue 
and  the  ones  we  wore.     This  devo- 


Grateful       acknowledgement 

is  hereby  made  for  the  f 

ollow- 

ing  donations  received  f 

or  the 

Passionist    Missions    in   China: 

Federation,    G.    A. 

West  Hoboken,  N.  J.. 

$25.00 

Mission    Society,    Parkers- 

burg,    W.    Va 

126.00 

S.   F.   Cincinnati,   O 

10.00 

D.   S.  L.   Newton,   Mass. 

5.00 

H.   R.   Randolph,   Mass. 

15.00 

J.  A.   Port   of   Spain, 

Trindad    

7.40 

R.  B.  Mt.  Vernon,  N.  Y 

3.25 

Anon.   Belleville,   N.  J... 

2.00 

K.  R.  S.,  New  York  City 

1.00 

Mr.  S.  Dunkirk,   N.   Y. 

.50.00 

S.  S.  Cambridge,  Mass.. 

10.00 

Anon.,  Newark,  N.  J..  .  . 

6.00 

Students'  Crusade, 

Cincinnati,     O 

25.00 

F.  C.  Dunkirk,  N.  Y... 

10.00 

Mr.  C.  Brooklyn,   N.   Y. 

115.00 

Anon.,  West  Hoboken, 

N.  J 

50.00 

Mite  Box,  West  Hoboken, 

N.  J 

2.60 

Mite   Box,   Jersey   City, 

N.   J 

2.14 

tion  owes  its  beginning  to  Mr.  E. 
Cozzi  who  had  a  sister  among  the 
Passionist  Nuns  in  Spain.  He  fre- 
quently visited  Hankow,  and  always 
called  on  the  Canossian  Sisters.  The 
sisters  have  read  the  life  of  the  saint 
to  the  children,  and  plied  us  with 
many  questions  concerning  him. 
One  of  the  miracles  recorded  in  the 
Italian  life  of  St.  Gabriel  was 
wrought  on  behalf  of  his  sister, 
Sister  Gabriclla.  She  was  a  pupil 
at  the  Benedictine  Convent  of 
Teramo,  Italy.  Stricken  with 
some  peculiar  malady  she  became 
39 


speechless.  One  of  the  nuns  en- 
couraged her  to  recommend  herself 
to  the  young  Passionist  Saint.  Slit- 
did  so,  and  while  on  a  pilgrin 
his  tomb  at  [sola,  felt  a  drowsiness 
come  over  her,  which  caused  her  to 
fall  into  a  deep  sleep.  On  awakening 
favored  with  a  \ ision  of  the 
Saint  She  prayed  fervently,  and  as 
a  reward  of  her  faith,  received  her 
speech;  in  gratitude  for  the 
favor  received  sought  to  spread 
devotion  to  him.  She  sent  medals, 
pictures,  and  finally  the  statue  that 
we  saw.  The  day  the  statue  arrived 
was  a  gala  day  at  the  orphanage. 
There  was  a  procession  throughout 
the  town,  and  every  one  took  part 
and  since  then  St.  Gabriel  has  been 
regarded  as  patron  and  special  pro- 
tector. We  gave  the  children  little 
pictures,  and  they  were  overjoyed  to 
receive  them,  and  held  on  to  them  as 
veritable  treasures. 

Before  closing  it  will  be  of  in- 
terest to  know  that  we  met  an  old 
Chinese  Priest  at  the  Cathedral  of 
Hankow,  who  kindly  consented  to 
decorate  us  with  our  Chinese  names. 
We  set  the  names  down  in  order: — 
Father  Celestine  is  Renn-Tin- 
Ngnan 

Father  Agatho  is   Pu-Er-Till 
Father  Flavian  is  Yang-Mong-Lin 
Father  Raphael  is  Fei-Wen  Tche 
Father  Timothy  is  Ye-Mon-Ti 
Brother    Lambert    is    Lung-Tse-- 
Min 

\^JHE  priests  all  have  the  name 
£  )  of  Renn-San-Fu,  in  common, 
^^  which  means  Spiritual  Father. 
We  are  sending  you  Fr.  Celestine's 
name  in  Chinese  characters  or  signs, 
as  a  sample,  showing  how  it  will 
appear  to  the  natives. 

We  are  busy  gathering  our  pots 
and  pans,  and  rations  preparatory 
to  setting  out  for  Changteh.  which 
we  hope  to  describe  in  our  next 
letter  for  the  readers  of  THE  SIGN. 

Good-bye  for  a  while,  and  be  not 
unmindful  of  us  and  our  needs  while 
kneeling  before  the  tabernacle. 
Thank  God,  thus  far,  all  are  well 
and  in  good  spirits,  and  impatient  to 
reach  our  destination,  and  begin 
active  work  for  the  conversion  and 
salvation  of  these  poor  souls. 
The  Fathers, 
per  Fr.  Celestine,  C.  P. 


Index  to  Worthwhile   Reading 


Maria  Chapdelaine.  .By  Louis 
Heman.  New  York  :  Macmillan  Co. 
$2.00. 

This  book  has  been  crowned  by 
the  French  Academy,  and  the  sale 
has  passed  the  quarter-of-a-million 
mark.  The  reception  the  translation 
has  been  accorded  is  enthusiastic 
indeed,  being  reprinted  for  the 
seventh  time. 

The  success  of  the  book  is  merited. 
For  once,  popular  acclaim  signified 
by  bein;j  the  "best  seller"  proves 
itself  to  be  just  and  enlightened. 
When  one  remembers  the  class  of 
work  that  makes  up  the  list  of  "best 
sellers"  one  is  surprised  that  this 
simple  tale  would  receive  such  a 
welcome  both  from  the  critics  and 
the  reading  public.  The  book  por- 
trays French  Canadian  life  as  it  is 
lived  out  in  the  remotest  boundaries 
of  Quebec.  The  father  of  the 
family  yielded  to  a  strange  penchant 
of  pressing  on  beyond  the  small 
hamlets  as  though  the  voices  of  the 
wild  were  ever  beckoning  him  far- 
ther into  the  sombre  forest  of  the 
Northland.  Indeed  it  is  the  very 
absence  of  anything  like  incident 
that  calls  forth  the  simple  heroism 
that  Maria  Chapdelaine  exhibits 
day  after  day  in  that  lonely  world. 

The  setting  is  a  land  where  life  is 
so  hard,  yet  where  the  clear  pure 
elemental  forces  of  nature  find 
crystal  souls  through  which  they 
may  shine.  The  conclusion  solves 
so  simple  a  mystery  as  this  :  whether 
Maria  will  yield  to  the  temptation 
to  pass  out  of  the  desolate  life  of 
the  country  of  Lake  St.  John,  and 
in  exchange  take  up  the  exciting  life 
described  to  her  by  a  returning 
suitor  from  the  States.  A  world 
tired  of  artifice  and  insincerity  may 
well  find  refreshment  in  gazing  on 
this  picture  of  simple  lives  whose 
motto  was  "semper  fidelis."  "We 
bore  over  seas  our  prayers  and  our 
songs :  they  are  ever  the  same.  We 
carried  in  our  bosoms  the  hearts  of 
the  men  of  our  fatherland,  brave 
and  merry,  easily  moved  to  pity  as 
to  laughter,  of  all  human  hearts  the 
most  human  ;  nor  have  they  changed 

...  in  the  land  of  Quebec  nothing 
has  changed.  Nor  shall  anything 
change,  for  we  are  the  pledge  of  it : 


we  are  a  testimony."  Maria  Chap- 
delaine has  the  supreme  simplicity 
of  a  master-piece. 

God  or  Gorilla.  By  Alfred  W. 
McCann.  New  York :  Devon-Adair 
Co.    $3.00. 

At  this  particular  time  the  public, 
such  is  its  temper  of  mind,  may  be 
induced  to  give  ear  to  this  angry 
expose  of  Darwinian  evolution. 
For  one  cause  or  another,  the  con- 
fidence of  unrestrained  credulity 
which  the  "educated"  placed  in  Dar- 
winian philosophy  has  been  rudely 
shaken.  Lately  the  daily  papers 
have  been  informing  the  public  as 
to  what  took  place  on  different 
occasions  when  the  world's  eminent 
scientists  were  gathered  to  exchange 
views.  Such  an  authority  as  Bateson 
gave  utterance  to  such  words  as 
these  :  "  'The  survival  of  the  fittest' 
was  a  plausible  account  of  evolution 
in  broad  outline  but  failed  in  appli- 
cation to  specific  difference.  The 
claims  of  'natural  selection'  as  the 
chief  factor  in  the  determination  of 
species  have  consequently  been  dis- 
credited. We  have  gone  on  talking 
about  evolution  (how  true),  today 
A'e  feel  silence  to  be  the  safer  course." 
Again  at  the  Eugenic  Congress 
recently  held  in  New  York,  Dr. 
Cuenot,  a  foremost  French  biologist 
told  the  members,  among  whom  was 
Charles  Darwin's  son,  that  the 
theory  could  not  stand.  "Something 
is  missing  in  the  explanation  of 
evolution — we  miss  the  effective 
cause.  Whether  you  are  a  biologist 
of  the  Spiritualist  School  or  erf  the 
Materialist,  or  the  Agnostic;  it 
it  makes  no  difference.  A  directing 
factor,  inside  or  outside  the  organ- 
ism, able  to  lead  to  mutations  must 
he  admitted.''  Whereupon,  Henry 
Fairfield  Osborn  said  that  the 
French  biologists  were  tending  in- 
dependently in  the  same  direction 
as  some  of  our  leading  biologists  in 
America.  This  and  more  to  the 
same  effect  have  been  finding  its 
way  to  the  attention  of  the  "educat- 
ed." When  openmiudedness  will 
succeed  to  the  public  mind  after  the 
shock  it  lias  received,  then  it  will 
be  prepared  to  acquiesce  in  the 
judgment  passed  by  Mr.  McCann, 
40 


namely,  that  in  the  name  of  Science 
a  huge  fraud  has  been  daringly 
perpetrated  upon  the  credence  of  the 
public.  Mr.  McCann  uses  facts  but 
each  fact  is  a  mortifying  vengeful 
blow  shattering  the  solemn  certitudes 
and  stripping  the  ostentatious  dis- 
play of  scholarship  to  the  bone. 

A  hoax  is  to  be  dealt  with  in  only 
one  way.  Mr.  McCann  having 
demonstrated  that  hoax  properly 
describes  the  evolutionary  theory 
identified  with  the  name  of  Darwin 
and  proceeds  to  administer  the  casti- 
gation  it  deserves. 

The  History  and  Nature  of  Inter- 
national Relations.  .  Edited  by  Ed- 
mund A.  Walsh,  S.  J.,  Ph.  D.  Mac- 
millan Company,  New  York.     $2.25. 

The  volume  herewith  presented  to 
the  reader,  offers  in  condensed  form, 
the  subject  matter  of  a  series  of 
lectures  delivered  in  the  Auditorium 
of  the  Smithsonian  Institution, 
Washington,  D.  C,  during  the  winter 
and  spring  of  1920-1921.  The  lect- 
ures were  given  primarily  for  the 
benefit  of  the  students  of  the  School 
of  Foreign  Service  of  Georgetown 
University,  though  the  general  public 
was  invited,  and  in  large  numbers 
attended.  It  was  this  general  in- 
terest in  the  subjects  under  dis- 
cussion, that  suggested  to  those  who 
were  responsible  for  the  Lectures, 
to  edit  and  present  to  the  reading 
public  in  permanent  form,  such  of 
the  lectures  as  would  supply  a  brief, 
though  complete,  outline  of  the 
diplomatic  relations  that  have 
existed  between  sovereign  states, 
and  from  this  history  to  show  forth 
the  principles  that  have  obtained. 
Not  unfrequently  these  principles 
have  been  based  on  expediency 
rather  than  on  truth  and  justice. 
Apart  from  the  intrinsic  value  of 
the  arguments,  the  contributors  are 
men  whose  position  has  enabled 
them  to  have  access  to  sources  of 
information,  that  gives  the  weight 
of  authority  to  their  utterances. 
The  work  is  professedly  a  scientific 
manual,  though  the  Editor  has 
happily  presented  the  matter  in 
such  language  that  the  lay  reader 
may  hope  to  read  with  profit. 


imjjwjmjmm  m.mmmjmmmx 


a^wMiwi'MaM 


A  N ATIO  N A  L      <J>     CAT  tfo  LI  C 
/MONTHLY       MACAZINrX 


VOL.  I. 


JUNE,    1922 


No.   I  I      I 


A  Mystery   Chapel   In   Rome 

Rev.  Gabriel  Demey,  C.  P. 


PART 
^^^^0  all  the  succeeding  popes  this  wonderful 
m     C\  chapel  became  very  dear.    It  was  quite  an 
^^^V  exclusive  little  favorite;  its  altar,  like  that 
in  St.  Peter's  and  St.  John  Lateran's,   is 
exclusively   papal.     No   one   has   the   privilege   of 
celebrating  mass  thereon  but  the  Holy  Father  him- 
self.    The  last  of  the  popes  who  celebrated  Mass 
there      was      the 
saintly    Pius    IX. 
In    1853   he   pre- 
sented     to      the 
chapel  a  pallium, 
made  of  gold  and 
lamb's    wool,    as 
a  mark  of  predi- 
lection,    and     in 
connection      with 
the    ceremony    of 
presentation,  cele- 
brated       Mass 
there     and     wore 
the  decoration  for 

the  first  time.  And  so  it  has  been  to  all  the  popes — 
very  dear.  It  is  little  but  it  is  much  loved,  and  so 
it  was  highly  favored  not  only  in  the  ways  men- 
tioned, but  exquisite  art  touched  it  at  every  point, 
and  the  best  of  the  best  and  the  richest  of  the 
rich  was  gathered  within  its  sacred  walls. 

In  the  realm  of  Catholic  art,  there  are  two 
pictures,  one  of  our  Blessed  Lord  and  the  other 
of  our  Blessed  Lady,  which   stand  out  as  valued 


acheropita-not  made  by  human  hands 


beyond  value  and  formerly  both  of  these  adorned 
the  favorite  chapel.     The  one   is  the  well  known 
painting  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  which  is  attributed 
to  St.  Luke.'    During  a  violent  plague  in  1227  this 
venerated  picture  was  carried  in  devout  procession 
through  the  city  of  Rome  and  the  Holy  Father,  then 
Pope  Gregory  IX.  wished  to  make  some  more  than 
usual   sacrifice   to 
win      the      great 
mercy      of      God 
upon  the  afflicted 
city,  and  therefore 
he    ordered    that 
the  great  treasure 
be  never  returned 
to     him     but     be 
given     to     the 
church    of    Santa 
Maria  del  Popolo, 
where   it  remains 
the  object  of  great- 
est veneration. 


The  other  is  the  most  celebrated  picture  of 
Christ  in  all  the  world,  the  incomparable  Acheropita. 
This  picture  is  regarded  as  an  object  of  the  greatest 
veneration,  yes,  but  it  is  admired  and  esteemed 
for  a  refinement  of  art  that  is  admittedly  preter- 
natural in  the  richness  of  coloring,  and  in  the 
majesty  and  perfection  of  its  expression.  This 
picture  won  eulogies  from  scholars  and  critics — 
veritable   panegyrics   which    are    startling   in   their 


THE  +  SIGN 


lavishness  of  praise.  One  of  the  calmest  of  modern 
writers,  a  man  who  weighs  well  the  meaning  of 
every  word  he  uses,  after  a  thorough  study  of  the 
Sancta  Sanctorum  and  all  its  great  treasures — and 
that  sanctuary  is  the  richest  treasure  house  in  all 
Christendom — says  "the  principal  one  of  its  posses- 
sions is  the  Acheropita  of  Christ.  So  they  who 
understand  extol  this  picture  now;  all  the  ages  have 
praised  this  treasure.  Its  name,  which  is  of  Greek 
origin,  would  indicate  how  it  was  regarded  in  the 
days  gone  by.  The 
meaning  of  that  unusual 
word  Acheropita  is  "not 
made  by  human  hands." 
The  artistic  excellence  of 
the  work  is  beyond  art  in 
its  richness,  perfection 
and  divine  splendors.  It 
is  therefore  considered 
preternatural  and  so  it 
is  very  frankly  called 
"Imago  Acheropita," — a 
picture  of  (the  Lord 
Jesus)  not  done  by  hu- 
man hands. 

VOLUMES  learned 
and  critical  have 
been  written  about 
this  picture  with  the 
strange  name.  The  de- 
tailed story  of  its  origin 
and  history  was  officially 
written  down  by  one  of 
the  canons  of  the  Basilica 
of  St.  John  Lateran  and 
is  preserved  in  the  ar- 
chives of  that  library.  It  tells  us  that  when,  after 
the  Ascension  of  Our  Lord  into  heaven,  our  Blessed 
Lady  and  the  apostles  had  returned  from  the  great 
vision  of  Mount  Olivet,  they  were  filled  with  vivid 
and  rapturous  memories  of  the  sight  and  they  and 
the  rest  of  the  orphaned  disciples  wished  still  to 
behold  the  splendor  of  the  human  features  of  Jesus, 
illumined  as  they  were  by  divine  radiance  as  He 
rose  up  higher  and  higher  and  finally  faded  from 
their  astonished  sight.  So  that  the  beauties  might 
never  fade  from  their  minds  they  besought  St.  Luke 
to  paint  truly  that  brilliant  vision — that  human 
countenance  divine.  But  the  saint  who  knew  that 
the  glories  of  it  were  all  beyond  the  powers  of  his 


BRONZE  PORTAL  OF  THE  SANCTA  SANCTORUM 


art,  was  extremely  embarrassed  and  begged  to  be 
excused.  But  the  pleadings  still  continued  and  as 
they  grew  more  and  more  earnest  the  holy  painter 
besought  the  assistance  of  our  dear  Lady  and  the 
holy  apostles  asking  to  be  relieved  from  attempting 
this  impossible  thing;  but  the  urgings  became  even 
stronger  and  so  by  long  fasts  and  fervent  prayers 
he  turned  his  pleadings  to  our  Blessed  Lord  and 
finally  set  himself  to  work.  He  set  up  a  walnut  board 
which  he  had  carefully  prepared  and  began  his  work. 
He  traced  the  first  lines 
of  his  sketch,  turned  his 
attention  momentarily  to 
his  colors  nearby  and,  lo! 
turning  back  his  eyes  he 
saw  the  picture  finished 
to  the  last  detail,  finished 
by  divine  agency.  The 
holy  man  was  overcome 
at  the  sight  of  this  mira- 
culous piece  of  art  and 
fell  prostrate  before  it — 
the  first  to  do  homage 
to  the  heavenly  wonder, 
the  Acheropita,  not  done 
by  human  hands.  From 
that  time  on  the  miracul- 
ous picture  has  been  the 
object  of  the  greatest 
devotion.  It  was  care- 
fully treasured  by  the 
apostles  and  after  they 
scattered  over  the  world 
it  remained  in  Jerusalem 
in  the  possession  of  our 
dear  Lady  herself  and 
there  it  was  a  comfort 
and  a  magnet  of  love.  It  has  been  such  ever  since. 
It  was  carefully  guarded  and  was  very  early  brought 
to  Rome  and  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  successors 
of  St.  Peter  as  the  richest  of  all  the  legacies  that 
have  been  bequeathed  to  the  church  from  apostolic 
times. 

Pope  Innocent  III.  covered  it  with  plates  of  silver, 
studded  with  jewels,  leaving  only  the  sacred  face 
exposed.  Thus  we  can  readily  understand  why  that 
painting  has  ever  attracted  the  study  and  attention 
of  artists  and  scholars,  and  won  from  the  faithful 
of  all  times  and  places,  such  profound  devotion  as 
becomes  the  miraculous  and  the  supernatural.  All 
the  succeeding  popes  have  exercised  in  its  behalf 


THE  +  SIGN 


the  greatest  jealousy  and  solicitude.  To  describe 
the  sentiments  of  the  clergy  and  people  of  Rome, 
the  great  demonstrations  of  fervor  for  this  loved 
of  all  loved  pictures  would  not  be  possible. 

Among  the  greatest  public  demonstrations  that 
took  place  in  the  Eternal  City  was  the  annual  pro- 
cession in  honor  of  the  Acheropita,  the  picture  of 
Christ  not  made  by  human  hands.  This  was  called 
"the  glory  of  Rome"  and  on  the  Feast  of  the 
Assumption  each  year  it  was  carried  in  procession 
and  the  cardinals, 
bishops,  priests  and  peo- 
ple by  the  thousands  as 
well  as  all  the  civil  au- 
thorities participated,  but 
(and  it  is  a  singular 
case)  the  inestimable 
privilege  of  carrying  that 
heaven-made  face  of 
Christ  was  reserved  to 
the  Holy  Father  and  to 
him  alone. 

^f^OME'S  veneration 
I^T  for  the  wonder 
picture  has  not 
ceased  with  time.  During 
the  troubled  years  of  the 
world  war  the  holy  trea- 
sure was  not  displayed. 
The  latest  public  mani- 
festation offered  to  it 
was  during  the  Constan- 
tine  Jubilee  in  1913.  By 
order  of  Pius  X.  the 
holy  picture  was  carried 
from  the  Sancta  Sanctor- 
um and  solemnly  enthroned  on  the  Altar  of  the  Con- 
fession in  St.  Peter's  and  there  it  remained  constantly 
exposed  in  glory  to  the  veneration  of  the  faithful 
by  day  and  night  throughout  an  entire  month,  from 
the  5th  of  April  to  the  same  day  in  May,  and,  aj 
is  the  custom  with  us  during  the  solemn  exposition 
of  the  Blessed  Sacrament,  a  guard  of  honor  knelt 
in  devout  exercises  before  it,  but  in  this  case  the 
guard  was  made  up  alternately  of  the  clergy  and  the 
laity  of  Rome.  During  that  month  thousands  of 
pilgrims  from  all  parts  of  the  world  visited  the 
holy  picture  and  sermons  by  the  greatest  preachers 
of  the  country  were  delivered  in  its  honor,  the  morn- 
ing orators  were  chosen  only  from  the   heirarchy 


cardinals,  patriarchs,  archbishops  and  bishops,  and 
the  afternoon  sermons  were  delivered  by  famous 
members  of  the  religious  orders. 

The  Acheropita,  however,  is  but  one  sample  of 
the  riches  of  the  mystery  chapel  and  of  the  interest 
which  is  twined  about  that  little  spot.  It  is  the 
spirit  of  holy  reverence;  it  is  fascinating;  it  is  every- 
where; it  descended  upon  us  in  the  beginning  and 
steadily  sank  as  one  wonder  more  wonderful  than 
any  that  had  gone  before  was  unfolded  by  that 
Passionist  priest.  He  was 
the  embodiment  of  that 
sweet  and  holy  spirit; 
filled  with  it.  Yes,  but  he 
was  its  master.  Undoubt- 
edly he  was  our  master 
too  and  we  were  not  s'ow 
to  feel  it.  The  exquisite 
charm  which  was  play- 
ing conjointly  from  that 
man's  personality  and 
nis  subject  made  tutelage 
a  stimulant  to  which  we 
happily    surrendered. 


n 


iRILLED    OPENINGS   ( 


TA    SANCTORUM 


[E  was  mildly  proud 
and  happy  in  his 
'  narrative  because 
he  had  the  treasures  and 
all  the  incidental  evi- 
dences to  show  as  he 
went  along  bringing  up 
newer  and  better  things 
from  the  treasure  in  this 
marvellous  little  oratory, 
the  Sancta  Sanctorum. 
The  priceless  treas- 
ures of  the  mystery  chapel,  are  the  holy  relics  of 
Christ,  of  our  Lady,  of  the  saints  and  martyrs  of 
holy  church.  These  relics  are  incased  in  receptacles 
of  massive  gold,  highly  adorned  and  ornamented 
with  precious  gems  and  jewels.  Both  relics  and 
reliquaries,  have  been  extrolled  in  many  learned 
works. 

To  appreciate  better  all  this  it  is  well  to  remem- 
ber that  this  ancient  chapel  has  been  the  storehouse 
where  for  hundreds  of  years  the  Roman  Pontiffs  have 
assembled  them  and  from  which  tiny  particles  were 
carefully,  even  jealously  permitted  to  go  forth  to 
different  parts  of  the  world,  so  that  while  you  and 
I  of  the  distant  faithful  may  see  or  possibly  be 


THE  I4  SIGN 


fortunate  enough  to  possess  one  such  sacred  relic 
they  are  in  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  by  thousands  and 
as  we  are  filled  with  gratitude  and  devotion  if  we 
possess  just  a  strand  of  the  raiment  which  belonged 
to  a  saint  or  a  grain  of  the  dust  from  his  grave,  in 
the  Sancta  Sanctorum  are  such  relics  as  the  entire 
head  of  St.  Agnes  and  of  St.  Praxides,  the  heads 
of  the  apostles  SS.  Peter  and  Paul,  one  of  the  san- 
dals worn  by  our  Blessed  Lord,  the  table  of  the 
Last  Supper,  one  of  the  thorns  from  the  cruel  crown, 
instruments  of  the  Passion  and  traces  of  the  Precious 
Blood  of  Jesus. 

Relics  of  this  class — every  one  of  them,  of 
course — simply  mean  the  incomparable,  yet  here 
they  are  in  abundance  and  variety  which  to  us  is 
stupifying.  Besides  these  there  are  in  that  chapel 
a  multitude  of  other  sacred  relics  any  one  of  which 
would  make  the  church  which  might  be  fortunate 
enough  to  possess  it  famous  and  envied  all  over 
these  United  States. 

And   now,   after   that   interesting   scholar   had 


proceeded  on  with  this  outspread  of  treasure  on 
treasure  and  the  glow  of  his  own  happiness  had 
reached  the  point  of  evident  satisfaction  we  began 
to  understand  the  reason  for  that  spirit  of  majesty 
which  fills  this  little  temple  of  God  as  an  atmosphere 
and  is  inhaled  with  every  breath  drawn  within  those 
hallowed  walls.  It  is  that  stupendous  collection  of 
sanctified  things  belonging  to  the  great  saints  and 
the  martyrs  of  the  church,  the  holy  apostles,  our 
Blessed  Mother  and  the  Lord  Jesus  Himself.  All 
those  envied  trophies  of  the  faith  are  tested  and 
tabulated  and  authenticated  and  stand  as  genuine 
after  the  keen  scrutiny  of  the  Holy  Catholic  Church. 
The  age-old  holiness  of  all  this  ever  radiating  rich- 
ness permeats  the  atmosphere  of  that  chapel.  It  is 
the  aroma  of  sanctity  perceptible  to  the  sensitive 
instinct  of  the  faith!  The  place  is  holy;  it  is  laden 
with  holiness;  it  is,  indeed,  the  Holy  of  Holies  well 
named  and  that  is  the  exact  meaning  of  the  Sancta 
Sanctorum." 

To  be  Continued 


The  Eucharistic  Congress 

DESCRIPTIONS  by  special  correspondents  and  to  make  Catholics  everywhere  more  appreciative  of 
press  cable  of  the  Eucharistic  Congress  in  this  reality  and  more  grateful  for  the  blessings 
the  Eternal  City  indicate  that  it  was  an  event      attendant  upon  it. 


of  unparalleled  splendor  and  impressiveness.  That 
it  should  be  so  is  quite  credible  when  we  contem- 
plate the  circumstances — the  Holy  Father  sur- 
rounded by  thousands  of  the  faithful  in  the  ample 
precincts  of  the  world's  most  magnificent  temple 
with  attendant  rich  and  harmonious  detail  of  rite 
.and  liturgy.  Those  who  were  privileged  to  behold 
it  all  must  have  felt  that  they  could  not  come  nearer 
-to  Heaven  itself  without  having  a  direct  vision  of 
that  blessed  abode. 

The  Eucharistic  Congress  opened  immediately 
rafter  the  delegates  of  the  nations  had  departed  from 
a  neighboring  city  where  their  efforts  toward  the 
-rehabilitation  of  a  prostrate  world  had  again  proved 
futile.  Were  not  many  serious  minds  affected  by 
the  coincidence  and  forced  to  note  the  contrast  of 
plane  and  motive,  and  were  they  not  convinced  that 
only  He  Whom  we  honor  and  adore  in  the  Eucharist 
has  the  healing  of  the  nations  in  His  hands? 

As  for  ourselves,  we  need  not  envy  those  whose 
happy  lot  it  was  to  participate  in  that  splendid 
scene.  In  the  humblest  chapel  in  Christendom 
dwells  the  same  God-Man  and  all  the  solemn 
splendor  of  that  assemblage  was  mainly  designed 


Co'nsider  this  passage  in  Through  Timbuctu  and 
the  Great  Sahara  by  A.  H.  W.  Haywood:  "As 
the  sun  was  seting  in  a  flood  of  red  and  gold  behind 
the  hills,  those  who  were  devout  worshippers  of 
the  Prophet  sank  to  their  knees  and  could  be  heard 
uttering  in  low,  musical  tones  the  cry:  'Allahu 
Akbar!'  To  my  mind  it  is  an  impressive  sight  to 
watch  the  pious  Mahomedan,  at  this  hour,  forsake 
the  occupation  on  which  he  is  engaged,  prostrating 
himself,  with  his  face  turned  eastward  toward  the 
holy  city  of  Mecca,  forgetful  for  the  time  of  all 
worldly  matters,  but  devoting  his  thoughts  to  God." 
What  would  not  be  the  devotion,  the  gratitude  of  a 
Mahomedan  were  the  object  of  his  faith  changed 
from  a  God  who  he  fancied  showing  favor  to  him 
through  a  distant  holy  shrine  to  a  God  dwelling  in 
his  very  midst  and  ever  ready  and  eager  to  be  the 
very  food  of  his  soul! 

The  Eucharistic  Congress  is  a  memory,  but  the 
patient  Lover  of  our  souls  remains,  alert  to  our 
prayers  for  our  own  needs  and  those  of  an  afflicted 
world,  and  fulfilling  His  pledge,  the  pledge  of  His 
Real  Presence  and  the  purpose  of  it:  "Unless  you 
eat  My  Flesh  and  drink  My  Blood  you  shall  not 
have  life  in  you." 


Trie   Betrayer 

Frank  Charleson 


QIGHT,  deep,  still  night;  and  a  sky  thick- 
studded  with  stars.  A  figure — a  man — 
creeps  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  queer 
old  oaks,  so  bent  and  twisted,  that  print 
crazy  outlines  on  the  grass — steals  fearfully  to  the 
edge  of  the  moonlight  streaming  through  the  rifted 
veil  of  cloud, — tip-toes  timidly  through  the  gateless 
opening,  then  into  the  roadway,  slowly.  He  looks 
cityward.  Yes,  there  they  are  the  red  torches  and 
gleaming  lanterns  of  the  crowd — a  thousand  yards 
away.  The  friend  he  loves  best  is  marching  there 
among  his  captors,  head  hanging  on  breast,  hands 
bound  fast  behind  him.  The  low  hum  of  voices 
sweeps  down  to  the  listener.  Will  he  follow?  Will 
he  share  the  bitter  chalice  as  he  promised? 

Cautiously,  very  cautiously,  he  is  moving  for- 
ward. He  slinks  as  well  within  the  shadows  as  he 
can;  he  fingers  his  sword-belt  at  every  rustling  of 
a  cedar  bough;  but  he  holds  his  way.  Soon  comes 
a  stir  in  the  far-off  crowd,  and  shouts  are  heard. 
Lanterns  cross  and  recross  and  wave  excitedly. 
Torches  dance  up  and  down  and  a  few  come  back 
towards  him.  Suddenly,  a  naked  figure  flashes  into 
sight  running  at  full  speed.  What  can  it  mean? 
As  the  timid  one  draws  his  sword  and  nervously 
clutches  his  curly  beard,  the  runner,  seeing  him, 
utters  a  faint  cry  and,  with  a  bound  over  the  low 
wall,  disappears  into  the  darkness. 

The  lights,  in  order  again,  move  steadily  towards 
the  city,  and,  wondering,  the  lone  follower  goes  on. 
He  seems  an  unwilling  pursuer,  for  now  and  then, 
when  long-armed  bushes  offer  to  snatch  at  his  gar- 
ments, he  trends  a  little  from  the  beaten  track  at  the 
cost  of  a  second  or  two, — as  the  lazy  rolling  brook 
alongside  the  footpath  waits  to  splash  or  ripple  at 
every  stone  and  root.  But  loiter  as  he  will,  over 
in  the  western  sky,  beyond  the  valley  and  the 
shadow  and  the  hill,  huge  towers  and  walls  begin 
to  outline  clearer  and  clearer  against  the  stars.  Alas! 
The  feasting  and  revelry  of  the  city  are  not  for  him. 
The  lamps  and  fires  that  light  up  the  streets  this 
gala  night  seem  like  funeral  pyres. 


n 


E  nears  a  crossroad  now,  and  halts  as  three 
persons  turn  into  his  path.  The  youth  who 
leads,  a  bright-eyed,  soft-cheeked  boy,  lifts 


an  arm,  points  towards  the  moving  lights,  and  then 
looks  inquiringly  to  the  two  women  beside  him.  His 
gesture  asked  them  would  they  follow,  and  one  of 
them,  a  mere  girl,  a  dark-haired  girl  with  smooth 
oval  face  that  needed  little  moonlight  to  show  its 
beauty,  answered  his  query  in  her  own  way — she 
turned  towards  the  older  woman  with  a  sob  and, 
clasping  arms  around  her,  wept  dismally  upon  her 
shoulder.  And  the  latter  stroked  the  girl's  hair 
with  strong  comforting  touch.  What  a  sweet,  firm 
mouth  this  elder  had.  A  painter  might  have  found 
in  her  his  model  for  a  mourning  peri — there  were 
strands  of  silver  hair  braided  in  the  brown,  and  in 
her  eyes  unshed  tears.  She  was  comforting  the 
weak  one  just  then,  though  it  may  be  her  own  heart 
that  instant  felt  sharper  grief  than  any  other  ever 
has  felt  since  the  world  began.  Woman's  way,  to 
be  sure! — is  she  ever  too  unhappy  to  comfort  the 
broken-hearted  ? 

As  the  dark-bearded  stranger  drew  near  they 
hailed  his  approach.  Surely,  he  had  good  tidings? 
No!  he  shook  his  head  in  sorrow.  The  older  woman 
questioned  him,  not  with  the  curtness  of  excitement, 
as  the  boy  beside  her  had  begun  to  do,  but  quietly, — 
as  a  Sister  of  Charity  who  soothes  the  mad.  Her 
tones  were  low  and  sad,  with  never  a  ring  of  hope, 
nor  yet  any  tinge  of  bitterness  in  them.  It  seemed 
as  if  she  knew  her  lot  was  sorrow,  and  was  bending  in 
resignation.  There  must  have  been  a  hidden  spring 
of  strength  within  her  heart,  some  unseen  flood  of 
light  across  her  way:  for  you  would  have  said  no 
mortal  spirit  ever  could  bear  such  hopeless  grief 
as  her  voice  betokened.  The  others  saw  wisdom 
in  her  words,  and,  her  counsel  given,  she  and  the 
other  woman  went  back,  while  the  men  followed 
their  captive  friend,  now  out  of  sight  and  hearing. 

^^^HE  two  men  walked  very  rapidly,  but  they 
^  J  soon  began  to  realize  that  the  brief  stop  had 
permitted  the  crowd  to  outdistance  them.  So 
the  younger  broke  into  a  run  and  disappeared, 
leaving  his  comrade  to  follow  as  best  he  might. 
Down  toward  the  south,  then  along  in  a  line  with  the 
walls,  up  a  steep  ascent,  and  finally  in  through  the 
southern  gate  and  across  town  to  the  opposite 
quarter,  the  second  man  hurried.    He  had  a  glimpse 


THE  1*  SIGN 


or  two  of  his  speeding  companion  at  first,  then,  as 
the  way  grew  plainer,  and  he  felt  certain  of  his 
destination,  he  plodded  on  with  his  eyes  never 
lifted  from  the  ground. 

Many  a  group,  seated  around  blazing  fires  or 
standing  before  family  thresholds,  called  upon  him 
to  stop  and  join  in  their  meal.  A  short  shake  of  the 
head  was  his  answer  sometimes,  sometimes  he 
wholly  ignored  the 
friendly  invitation  and 
hastened  along  with 
downcast  head,  deaf 
to  the  laughter  that 
greeted  some  wag  who 
was  mocking  the  crazy 
stranger.  He  knew  his 
way  well, — and  at  last 
he  stopped  before  a 
great  court  where  the 
excited  jostling  of  the 
crowd  outside,  and  the 
confused  echo  of  voices 
from  within,  assured 
him  his  journey  was 
ended.  Just      then 

his  young  companion 
appeared  in  the  gate- 
way and  beckoned.  A 
word  of  explanation  to 
the  porter,  and  the 
stranger  entered  the 
gate,  while  a  sudden 
murmur  went  up  from 
the  crowd  surging 
against  the  iron  pickets. 

It  melts  away,  lit- 
tle by  little,  this  crowd. 
Then,  at  a  shout  from  a 
boy  in  a  tree  above, 
that     tells     them     the 

prisoner  is  being  taken  across  to  another  court, 
those  who  remain  rush  pell-mell  up  the  street  madly 
shouldering  one  another,  the  heavy  ones  tumbling 
their  lighter  fellows  into  the  dust.  They  are  just 
like  any  city  crowd  you  ever  saw — although  dressed 
a  little  differently. 

B  DOZEN  noisy  chanticleers  were  loudly  chal- 
lenging the  light  when  the  two  men  came 
forth  again.     Something  strange  must  have 
happened  in  the  meantime,  for  the  younger  turned 


Saint   Gabriel  Possenti 

Fra.  Cornelius,  O.  F.  M. 

Hero  of  God  w'hose  span  was  brief, 
Thou  little  Saint  of  our  ov?n  days, 
I  think  of  thee  with  glad  relief 
Instruct  me  in  thy  happy"  ways. 

Laved  at  my  Father's  natal  fount, 
WKo  would  not  hope  thy-  saintship,  too? 
Assisi  claims  thee,  tho  the  Mount 
Of  Mary's  Dolors  birthed  thee  new. 

Our  youtk  has  seen  thy  meteor-trail 
But  stand  aghast; — the  price  is  high. 
And  starred  in  worldly  aims,  the  veil 
Of  Heaven  falls; — they  dare  not  try. 

Gabriel,  chosen  guide  of  ^outh 
To  dolored  Mary  join  in  prayer. 
Implore  Dispensers  of  the  Truth, 
For  truth  lies  prostrate  everywhere. 

Teeming  the  fields,  the  harvests  great; 
Of  earnest  workers  there  is  need 
To  check  the  World's  much  threatened  fate 
By"  apostolic  word  and  deed. 


away  from  his  companion  with  a  gesture  of  contempt 
and  walked  off  alone.  They  were  comrades  no 
longer.  A  moment  ago  the  cheek  had  blanched 
under  that  curly  black  beard  and  the  man's  lips  had 
disowned  the  dear  one  whom  men  were  torturing 
inside  the  court.  No  wonder  the  boy  turned  in 
anger  from  the  coward.  And  he  ?  He  went  wander- 
ing down  the  street,  heartsick,  blinded  with  tears, 
careless  whither  his 
feet  carried  him.  A 
swaggering  official  pas- 
sed and  cursed  this  in- 
solent creature  who 
never  even  raised  an 
eye.  Through  the  city 
gate  he  went,  back  out 
into  the  dusty  road, 
and  there  fell  under  a 
tree,  his  forehead  upon 
the  ground,  weeping 
tears  of  anguish.  He 
had  thought  to  aid  his 
loved  one,  and  he  had 
cut  him  to  the  soul! 

The  patient  face, 
full  of  a  night's  long 
pain,  with  its  sad  glance 
of  unlooked-for  tender- 
ness still  stabbed  him. 
Coward  and  traitor  as 
the  weeper  was,  he  re- 
gretted not  so  much  that 
his  own  life  was  ruined, 
— that  he  was  to  be  a 
scorn  and  a  hissing  to 
all  his  race,  foes  and 
old  friends  alike — that 
his  high  place  of  trust 
and  honor  was  now  but 
the  memory  of  a  silly 
dream.  He  thought  of  all  these  things;  but  they 
were  trifles.  Oh!  to  take  back  the  words  that  had 
bruised  the  friendless  one. 

What  was  huddled  against  the  wall  there  ?  Was 
it  a  human  being  crouching  near  him?  Yes,  surely. 
He  knew  well  that  sharp  nose,  the  stubborn  beard 
and  those  pale  watery  eyes.  The  rest  of  the  face 
evaded  recognition ;  it  was  like  a  madman's  features 
when  some  horrible  vision  is  haunting  his  memory, 
and  paralysing  his  power  of  thought.  Bent  shoulders 
indicated  the  momentary  expectation  of  some  crush- 


THE  +  SIGN 


ing  blow.  The  thick  red  hair  was  matted  above 
his  ears,  and  the  perspiration  oozing  from  his  fore- 
head told  of  a  fever-stricken  soul.  Hollow  eyes, 
glaring  from  under  tangled,  bushy  brows,  bore  a 
look  of  utter  despair;  and  the  other  man,  forgetting 
his  own  grief  for  an  instant,  stretched  out  an  in- 
stinctive, human,  helping  hand  to  raise  the  poor 
wretch  thus  sunk  helplessly  at  his  feet. 

XLL  did  it  behoove  him,  criminal  as  he  was, 
to  spurn  the  vilest  of  God's  creatures,  and, 
as  the  crouching  fellow  drew  back  amazed, 
a  friendly  arm  stole  round  his  neck,  and  one  who 
had  so  lately  felt  sin's  sting  and  the  agony  of 
remorse,  gently  spoke  of  God  and  mercy  and  repent- 
ance. He  went  on  and  the  wild  look  faded  from  the 
drawn  face — there  was  hope  even  for  him,  then. 
The  hard  features  relaxed  into  a  pitiful,  beseeching 
glance  that  attested  a  readiness  to  tread  earth's 
length  and  breadth  to  win  relief  of  woe. 

So  absorbed  the  two  were  that  neither  saw  a  third 
approach.  She  seemed  equally  unaware  of  them. 
A  cloth  was  wound  about  her  head  and  hung  back 
trailing  over  the  shoulders.  Long  abundant  hair  of 
shining  black  was  straggling  carelessly  about,  and 
stains  of  dust  were  on  tresses  and  on  forehead.  She 
sang  to  herself  in  plaintive  fashion,  a  queer  quaint 
song,  a  lament  full  of  strange  intervals  in  a  wailing 
minor  key.  Involuntarily  the  two  men  turned  and 
listened: 

"Through  the  long  night  of  pain  she  weeps, 
Down  her  cheek  rolls  the  anguished  tear. 
There  is  not  one  to  comfort  her 
Among  all  who  had  been  most  dear." 

Not  a  child  in  all  the  countryside  but  had  the 
song  by  heart — not  a  single  soul  perhaps  in  the  great 
city  yonder,  but  had  sounded  new  depths  of  sadness 
every  time  its  melody  drifted  above  the  bowed  necks 
of  the  worshiping  congregation.  As  the  notes  rose 
and  died,  the  startled  look  came  back  into  the  eyes 
of  the  red-bearded  man,  and  when  the  woman's  sad 
face  turned  towards  him,  he  leaped  to  his  feet,  cry- 
ing out  in  terror : 

"Oh!    may  his  house  be  desolate 

And  may  his  days  be  few. 

May  he  on  earth  all  suffering  know 

And  Hell  his  pains  renew." 


HE  finished,  and  he  who  had  been  preaching 
repentance  seemed  to  draw  slowly  away  from 


the  sinner.  The  latter  knelt  on  the  ground,  his 
face  livid  and  again  distorted  with  fright,  his 
eyes  dilated  and  starting  from  his  head,  for  it 
seemed  to  him  as  if,  but  a  few  yards  distant  on  the 
road,  a  great  cross  rose,  bearing  the  Crucified.  Big 
drops  of  blood  from  the  nail-pierced  feet  ran  trick- 
ling down  the  wooden  post,  or  fell  with  a  sudden 
beat  from  the  thorn-crowned  head.  The  wasted 
body  was  cut  and  bruised  and  quivering  in  every 
part.  The  face!  There  was  on  that  face  a  look 
such  as  never  was  and  never  can  be  elsewhere. 
Great  dark  clots  of  blood  tangled  the  golden  beard, 
long  lines  of  crimson  sweat  crossed  the  wrinkled 
forehead  and  creased  the  cheek.  The  eyes  turned 
upward  with  a  look  of  hopeless  agony,  the  lips  half 
parted  as  in  a  cry  for  death,  a  convulsive  shudder 
ran  over  the  mangled  form.    The  vision  was  gone. 

The  two  others  went  together  towards  the  city, 
leaving  him  where  he  lay — poor,  lifeless  one.  His 
hands  were  clasping  his  head  as  though  to  clamp 
the  brain.  Then  he  rose,  and  ran,  tearing  at  the 
loose  garment  that  choked  his  fevered  throat. 

Whither  away?  Anywhere.  To  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  sea,  to  hell  itself — anywhere  away  from 
that  awful  vision  that  burns  like  a  living  coal  within 
the  mind  and  chills  the  heart's  blood  like  a  lump 
of  ice.  Where  away?  Down  the  road,  out  of  sight 
of  roof  and  hedge  and  of  every  living  thing.  On 
beyond  the  meeting  waters,  where  brooks  join  in  a 
double  stream  to  seek  the  sea.  On  past  forests  and 
groves  of  olive  trees,  and  roadside  fountain,  out  of 
hearing  of  the  great  stir  of  life  awaking  over  there 
in  the  homes  of  men.  Further  still?  Yes,  up  to  the 
sepulcher's  whitened  gate  and  past  its  inviting  door- 
way— only  a  corpse  can  rest  in  that.  On  and  on 
and  on,  in  the  dim  light  of  the  gray  dawn.  God! 
drive  away  that  hell-sent  vision!  Rivers  of  fire  and 
caverns  of  hell!  welcome!  Ye  hills!  fall  upon 
and  smother  your  willing  victim!  Lions  and  tigers, 
writhing  serpents,  demons!  crush  that  hideous 
memory  in  the  clasp  of  death! 

Earth  has  no  mercy.  Then  rain  down,  ye  clouds! 
and  sweep  the  last  shivering  wretch  of  human  kind 
into  the  dark  abyss  before  the  crime  is  consum- 
mated! Flash  forth  lightnings  and  consume  yon 
town  as  of  old  the  two  cities  were  consumed!  Oh, 
see!  rush  in  upon  it;  swallow  it  up;  entomb  it  in 
your  depths!  Anything!  Anything!  Anything! 
Adonai!  blot  out  time  ere  the  murder  be  accom- 
plished! 

(Continued  on  Page   9) 


The   Labor   Problem 

Rev.  R.  A.  McGowan 
IV. — Socialism 


'OCIALISM  would  be  a  failure  because 
common  ownership  does  not  provide  suf- 
ficient incentives  to  men  for  them  to  work 
well.  If  it  succeeded  from  the  economic 
standpoint,  it  would  be  tyrannous  because  the  men  in 
charge  of  the  Government  would  have  all  the  powers 
of  the  Government  and  all  the  powers  of  the  sole 
employer.  It  probably  would'nt  work  at  all  and 
if  it  did  the  common  man  would  have  little  chance 
of  controlling  his  own  life,  protecting  his  own  rights, 
and  developing  his  own  nature.  The  men  in  control 
of  the  Government  and  the  means  of  work  might  be 
so  wise  that  what  they  ordered  would  be  for  the 
welfare  of  all.  But  to  be  that  wise  they  would  have 
to  be  angels. 

The  dangers  in  an  attempt  at  Socialism  come, 
first,  from  the  desolation  and  physical  misery  into 
which  it  would  hurl  us,  and  second  from  the  tyranny 
of  those  in  control  of  the  Government  and  the  in- 
dustries. It  would  not  last,  but  there  would  come 
upon  us  a  period  of  great  suffering  and  wrong. 

Could  the  Socialists  be  trusted  to  administer 
industry  efficiently?  They  are  agitators,  and  keen, 
but  not  thorough,  analysts  of  what  is  wrong  with 
industrial  society.  Brains  of  a  kind  they  have  in 
abundance.  But  could  they  be  trusted  to  run  even 
political  Government  successfully?  Are  there 
technicians  enough  among  them  and  executives 
enough  to  furnish  the  directing  and  managerial 
brains  to  conduct  industry?  Could  they  get  enough 
technical  and  executive  experts,  who  are  not  Social- 
ists, to  work  with  them?  Would  the  rank  and  file 
join  in  any  such  grandiose  effort?  As  we  know  the 
Socialists  and  human  nature,  Socialism  would  fail, 
just  as  it  failed  in  Russia. 

OR  could  we  trust  our  lives  and  our  fortunes  to 
the  Socialists  and  the  technical  and  executive 
experts  whose  efforts  they  could  call  on? 
These  Socialists  and  scientists  and  executives  are 
human  beings.  They  are  subject  to  the  errors  and 
faults  of  human  beings.  Give  them  control  of  the 
police,  the  jails,  the  courts,  the  army  and  the  firing 
squad,  give  them  control  of  the  means  of  work  of 
all  the  people,  the  power  of  directing  so  and  so  to 
do  this  work,  of  allowing  this  man  to  work  and 


refusing  to  let  that  man  work,  and  the  result  would 
be  tyranny.  Such  combined  power  is  too  great  to  be 
entrusted  to  any  man  or  group  of  men. 

Socialists  have  strange  and  horrible  ideas  about 
the  family  and  religion.  Some  Socialists  reject  these 
ideas,  but  a  great  many  still  hold  them.  They  hold 
that  the  family  is  a  product  of  private  property  and 
will  disappear  when  private  ownership  of  the  means 
of  work  disappears.  They  hold  that  religion  is  an 
opiate  administered  to  deaden  the  minds  and  wills 
of  the  poor  to  the  sufferings  they  undergo,  and  that 
under  common  ownership  it  will  disappear. 

Give  these  men  political  power  and  the  control 
over  jobs  and  human  livelihood  and  they  will  pro- 
bably try  to  hasten  what  they  would  call  the  process 
of  dissolution  of  the  family  and  religion  under 
common  ownership.  They  would  not  hold  family 
ties  or  religion  sacred.  The  laws  and  practices  they 
would  ordain  would  oppose  family  and  religion. 
Catholics  would  be  at  bay,  and  there  would  be  little 
protection  for  us. 

XT  is,  of  course,  true  that  the  elected  officials 
would  be  chosen  by  the  vote  and  that  the 
appointed  officials  could  be  reached  indirectly. 
But  are  the  changing  fortunes  of  political  election 
a  firm  support  for  human  rights  and  a  shield  against 
wrongs  ?  When  the  agents  of  the  Government  hold 
only  political  power,  it  is  unsatisfactory  enough. 
Give  the  agents  of  the  Government  the  control  of 
the  means  of  work  of  everyone,  and  the  matter 
reaches  dangerous  proportions. 

But  there  is  little  danger  of  an  attempt  at  com- 
plete Socialism  in  the  United  States.  The  farmers 
will  hardly  come  to  the  conclusion  that  they  would 
be  better  off  not  to  own  their  farms.  This  much 
of  Socialism  would  necessarily  be  discarded  and  has 
indeed  been  already  discarded  by  the  Socialist  Party. 

What  does  seem  probable  is  that  large  numbers 
of  the  workers  will  ask  for,  work  for,  and  vote  for 
government  ownership  of  a  few  industries.  Govern- 
ment ownership  of  a  few  industries,  however,  is 
not  Socialism.  The  railroad  men  and  the  miners 
have  each  a  program  of  government  ownership. 
Neither  group  nor  the  two  together  are  Socialists, 


THE  +  SIGN 


nor  are  they  asking  for  Socialism.     They  merely 
want  government  ownership  of  the  two  industries. 

j^HE  difference  between  government  ownership 
%/v  of  a  few  industries  and  common  ownership 
of  all  industries  is  the  difference  between  a 
shower  and  a  cloud-burst.  If  in  addition  the  control 
of  the  few  industries  placed  under  government 
ownership  is  a  divided  control  and  a  large  part  of 
the  control  is  placed  in  the  hands  of  those  who  work 
in  these  industries,  then  the  tyranny  of  the  bureau- 
crats will  be  modified  and  the  abilities  of  the  men 
who  know  how  to  do  the  work  will  have  a  real 
chance  for  outlet.  If  there  is  also  some  form  of 
profit  sharing  practiced  in  the  few  government 
owned  industries,  those  working  in  the  industries 
will  be  more  encouraged  to  work  well.  Such  a 
system  of  control  and  division  of  returns  under 
government  ownership  gives  to  those  working  in  the 
industries  two  elements  of  personal  ownership: 
sharing  in  the  control  and  sharing  in  the  returns. 


Instead  of  common  ownership  or  a  very  great 
amount  of  government  ownership  what  is  needed 
is  that  most  of  those  working  in  industry  should 
own,  in  part  at  least,  the  things  with  which  they 
are  working  to  make  a  livelihood  for  themselves 
and  their  families.  Not  common  ownership  but 
sound,  healthy,  private  ownership!  The  reason  why 
common  ownership  is  making  converts  is  because 
now  private  ownership  is  diseased.  It  is  held  by 
too  small  a  number  of  persons  in  city  industry.  It 
is  used  to  the  harm  and  wrong  of  others  who  own 
property  and  the  great  masses  who  own  no  property 
in  the  means  of  work.  Because  of  this,  many  think 
that  the  only  way  to  cure  the  evil  effects  of  a 
distorted  and  diseased  system  of  private  ownership 
is  to  abolish  private  ownership  in  the  means  of 
work. 

This  is  the  chief  reason  why  Socialism  under 
its  various  forms  is  making  so  many  gains  abroad 
and  here.  The  best  argument  against  Socialism 
is  the  cure  of  private  ownership. 


THE    BETRAYER— Continued  from   Page 


XN  vain.  The  trumpet  call  is  sounding  from  the 
dark  tower  of  the  north.  The  tramp  of 
legionaries  and  the  clash  of  arms  sound 
through  thy  streets,  O  my  city.  The  Just  One  is 
being  driven  to  his  doom. 

With  a  shiver  the  madman,  as  he  runs,  turns 
into  a  narrow  gorge,  where  rough  beetling  crags  on 
either  side,  and  dashing  water,  and  scattered  clumps 
of  olive  trees,  mingle  confusedly  in  his  tortured  sight. 
Up  and  up,  and  over  the  frowning  hill,  while  breath 
is  coming  short  and  quick,  and  feet  are  staggering, 
and  eyes  are  going  blind.  Up,  and  out  on  a  narrow 
plain  that  looks  down  over  the  city! 

Slow  wreaths  of  smoke  mount  solemnly  in  the 
morning  air.  Bright  roofs  and  lofty  towers,  green, 
gardens  and  whitewashed  walls,  shape  themselves 
out  of  the  lifting  vapor.  Far  away  on  the  right,  a 
dusty  valley-road  shows  where  the  traitor  had 
walked  last  night  with  his  crowd  of  brutal  mercen- 
aries. The  dim  eyes  of  the  haggard-visaged  wretch 
now  see  nothing  of  it  all.  One  only  picture  brands 
itself  in  through  half  closed  eyelids — the  vision  of 
the  Crucified. 

Over  yonder  the  blessed  mount,  the  beloved  of 


kings  and  prophets,  veers  its  stone-crowned  head 
heavenward.  Here  at  his  feet  is  the  valley  once 
filled  with  the  blood  of  innocents  and  fiery  holocausts 
and  strange  sacrifices — a  place  accursed  of  God. 
Fitting  spot  for  him!  It  is  almost  a  cry  of  relief 
that  comes  from  his  parched  lips  as  he  sees  the 
leather  halter  on  the  clay  in  the  wagon  track.  A 
solitary  tree  stretches  inviting  arms  to  him.  He 
hurries  towards  it  and  clambers  up  the  trunk.  A 
knot  around  his  throat,  a  turn  over  a  branch,  and 
he  swings  heavily  from  the  tree.  Crash!  Will  Hell 
not  hold  him? 

He  goes  painfully  up  again,  a  look  of  final 
despair  blotting  all  other  expression  from  his  face. 
Another  knot,  this  time  around  a  stouter  bough,  and 
he  throws  himself  down,  half  hopelessly.  His  body 
catches  on  a  broken,  sharp-pointed  branch,  opens 
with  a  ghastly  wound,  and  then  hangs  dangling  from 
the  tree,  the  trembling  knees  beating  against  each 
other.  The  sun  rises  higher  and  higher.  The  gay 
beams  that  dance  through  the  mists  of  morning  play 
over  the  twitching  limbs  of  the  corpse. 

"The  Son  of  man  indeed  goeth ;  but  woe  to  that 
man  by  whom  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed." 


A   Saint  in  the  Alcove 


Helen  Moriarty 


"M^^HERE  was  no  doubt  of  it,  Mrs.  Brehmer 
M  6j  was  surprised  when  on  the  second  anni- 
^^^^  versary  of  their  marriage  her  husband 
presented  her  with  an  eighteen-inch,  white 
marble  statue  of  St.  Joseph. 

"It's  beautiful,  Joe,"  she  told  him  sincerely, 
trying  to  infuse  some  warmth  into  her  tone.  Was 
this  all  he  was  going  to  give  her? 

"Yes,  isn't  it?"  he  glowed.  "Of  course,  it 
should  have  been  your  own  patron  saint,  but  they 
don't  have  St.  Agathas,  and  besides  I  thought  you'd 
like  St.  Joseph — everybody  does." 

Agatha  forced  a  smile.  "Oh,  yes,  I  do.  And 
this  is  really  a  work  of  art." 

"If  you  knew  what  it  cost  you'd  think  so," 
grinned  her  husband.  "But  we've  hardly  anything 
religious  in  the  house,  have  we,  dear?  You  see  I 
grew  up  with  statues  and  what  Mother  called  'holy 
pictures'  and  I  kind  of  miss  them.  Not  those  ghastly 
colored  ones,"  as  his  wife  gave  him  rather  an  odd 
look.  "We're  going  to  acquire  something  worth 
while  from  time  to  time." 

"Every  anniversary,"  thought  Agatha  bitterly, 
"and  maybe  birthdays  and  Christmas  as  well. 
Heavens !" 

Joe  went  on  blithely,  "I  thought  I'd  fix  a  bracket 
for  a  corner  of  the  alcove  in  our  room,  and  with  a 
couple  of  plants  on  the  little  table  beneath,  it  will 
look  quite  like  an  oratory,  won't  it?"  He  turned 
an  eager  look  on  his  wife,  wondering  vaguely  if  there 
was  something  just  the  least  bit  unresponsive  in  her 
attitude.  But  her  answer  was  ready  and  positive 
enough. 

"It  certainly  will.  That  statue — "  and  she 
smiled  cryptically — "would  make  even  a  coal  cellar 
look  like  an  oratory." 

Joe  beamed  his  delight.  "I  knew  you'd  like  it, 
Agatha.  Let's  take  him  up  right  away  and  see  how 
he  looks  in  that  corner,"  picking  up  the  statue  care- 
fully. It  was  plain  that  he  was  quite  enamored  of 
his  purchase  and  his  plan. 

"You  do  it,"  his  wife  suggested.  "I  must  get 
the  dishes  washed  before  some  one  comes.  I'll 
come  up  soon  as  I  finish,"  she  promised,  in  order 
to  hurry  him.  She  wanted  to  get  that  statue  out 
of  sight  before  any  of  her  friends  came  in  anyhow. 


She'd  sink  with  mortification  to  have  them  find  out 
what  her  husband  gave  her  for  an  anniversary  gift. 
A  statue  .  .  of  St.  Joseph!  Well  of  all  things! 
She  could  just  hear  them,  and  see  their  amused 
glances.  And  she  wanted  to  get  out  of  Joe's  sight 
before  her  disappointment  became  manifest.  She 
felt  she  could  not  hold  in  much  longer  .... 

>    T  FEW  tears  of  rage  and  disappointment  rolled 

J I    down   her   cheeks   into   the   dishwater,   but 

Agatha  wiped  them  away  resolutely.  She 
didn't  want  him  to  find  her  crying,  and  then  there 
was  all  day  tomorrow.  She  could  cry  all  she  wanted 
to.  Viciously  she  splashed  the  dishwater,  rinsed 
the  dishes  with  a  furious  flourish  of  the  teakettle, 
and  started  to  wipe  them,  ignoring  the  patent  dryer 
which  had  been  installed  by  Joe  as  a  clever  part  of 
her  kitchen  menage.  She  was  in  no  hurry.  The 
longer  it  took  her  the  more  time  she  would  have 
to  compose  her  features.  Bleakly  she  sighed  as 
she  hung  up  the  broiler.  How  long  she  had  been 
looking  forward  to  this  anniversary,  pleasantly 
anticipative  of  what  Joe  was  going  to  give  her.  She 
had  taken  care  to  hint  gently  about  a  number  of 
things  she  would  like  to  have. 

She  had  preferences,  of  course,  but  any  of  them 
would  be  welcome.  Tea  napkins,  salad  forks, 
sherbet  glasses,  silk  stockings,  a  rug  for  the  hall, 
new  purse — she  needed  them  all;  and  as  Joe  never 
stopped  with  one  present  she  had  somehow  settled 
on  the  three  she  was  to  receive.  A  couple  of  pair 
of  silk  stockings  from  Miss  Phalen's — she  always 
told  him  to  go  there — the  rug,  and  the  tea  napkins. 
If  she  had  mentioned  the  tea  napkins  once  she  had 
mentioned  them  a  thousand  times,  she  reflected  in 
great  soreness  of  heart,  and  to  think  that  she  might 
as  well  have  been  talking  about  red  Indians  for  all 
the  impression  it  made  on  him!  Joe  was  dense, 
that's  all  there  was  about  it,  and  so  silly  about 
religion ! 

Now  it  has  doubtless  been  gathered  by  this 
time  that  Agatha  was  not  in  any  sense  silly  about 
religion.  Far  from  it.  She  belonged  to  that  large 
and  comfortable  class  which  makes  Mass  on  Sundays 
and  Holy  Days  and  Communion  once  a  month  or  so 
the  goal  of  its  highest  spiritual  ambition.     Not  for 


THE  1*  SIGN 


them  attendance  at  Vespers  or  the  Holy  Hour  or 
at  an  occasional  weekday  Mass.  They  smiled  cheer- 
fully over  the  people  who  did  such  things,  wondered 
how  on  earth  they  found  the  time,  agreeing  amicably 
that  they  were  not  a  bit  better  than  any  one  else 
for  all  their  piety. 

(0  thought  Agatha  Hinton  too  until  she  had 
met  Joe  Brehmer,  whose  ardent  devotion  to 
his  religion  was  a  revelation  to  her  in  many 
ways.  She  loved  him  for  it,  as  well  as  for  his 
manliness  and  the  sturdy  integrity  of  a  forthright 
nature,  but  so  far  she  had  not  been  led  to  emulate 
his  piety,  about  which  she  had  often  allowed  her- 
self to  tease  him  just  a  little.  A  very  little  though; 
for  she  soon  perceived  that  in  some  vague  way  it 
hurt  or  displeased  him,  and  not  for  worlds  would 
she  hurt  her  dear  old  Joe. 

"Agatha!"  Joe  called  down  the  back  stairs. 
"Aren't  you  through  yet?" 

"In  a  minute!"  She  ran  her  hands  over  her 
stiff  features,  trying  to  smooth  away  the  tell-tale 
signs  of  disappointment  and  peevishness,  and 
managed  to  exclaim  quite  naturally  over  Joe's 
arrangement  of  the  statue.  He  had  brought  up  the 
two  old  brass  candlesticks  from  the  hall  table — 
they  were  her  dearest  possession — and  the  cyclamen 
she  had  bought  to  decorate  the  table  for  the  anni- 
versary dinner.  Table  decorations  meant  nothing 
to  Joe!  Well,  it  would  be  a  long  time  before  she'd 
buy  flowers  again! 

"Now,"  triumphantly,  "doesn't  it  look  oratory — 
kal?    If  you  know  what  I  mean,"  laughing  jocosely. 

It  looked  beautiful  and  Agatha  told  him  so. 
"But  if  your  going  to  keep  those  candlesticks  up 
here,"  she  could  not  help  adding,  "you'll  have  to 
find  me  another  pair  for  the  hall  table." 

"I  will,"  casually.    "Where  did  you  get  those?" 

"Those?  Don't  you  remember?  But  of  course 
you  wouldn't,"  dryly.  "They  belonged  to  my  great 
grandmother.  She  brought  them  with  her  from 
Ireland.  I  was  quite  delighted  when  Mother  gave 
them  to  me — " 

"By  jinks,  I  had  forgotten,"  Joe  broke  in,  staring 
at  the  candlesticks  as  though  he  had  never  seen 
them  before.  "Wouldn't  great  grandmother  be 
pleased,  though,  if  she  could  see  where  they  landed, 
right  in  front  of  a  statue  of  St.  Joseph?  You  know, 
the  Irish  have  a  great  devotion  to  St.  Joseph — " 

Agatha  thought  she'd  scream  if  he  kept  it  up. 
She  interrupted  him  rather  rudely.     "So  you   see 


it  wouldn't  be  easy  to  find  another  pair  like  those," 
with  a  superior  smile.  "And  I  simply  love  them 
on  my  hall  table.  Don't  you  think  glass  ones  would 
look  better  here?" 

>p=^ER  husband's  face  fell.  In  an  instant  the 
IP  antiquity  of  the  brass  candle-sticks  and  their 
origin,  never  before  given  a  thought,  had 
struck  on  his  ardent  Catholic  imagination  as  being 
peculiarly  fitted  for  their  present  place,  linking  (he 
was  pleased  to  think)  the  rock-ribbed  faith  of  old 
Ireland  to  the  same  impregnable  faith  in  this  new 
land.  How  many  murmured  prayers  they  had 
heard,  how  many  orisons  had  gone  up  before  them, 
how  many  broken  plaints,  how  many  heart-sick, 
weary  sighs,  how  many,  many  earnest  petitions 
from  lips  that  were  long  since  dust!  They  were 
holy  things  (so  he  thought  reverently),  well  suited 
to  stand  in  shining  dignity  before  this  chaste  and 
beautiful  statue  of  the  good  St.  Joseph. 

But,  of  course,  if  Agatha  wanted  them  down- 
stairs .  .  He  had  in  two  years  of  happy  married 
life  acquired  a  wholesome  respect  for  what  his  wife 
wanted.  But  if  he  told  her  what  he  was  thinking  .  . 
He  glanced  at  her  doubtfully.  Agatha  wasn't  what 
you  might  call  devout.  Well  .  .  not  at  all,  with  a 
painful  twinge.  Of  course  you  had  to  make  this 
allowance — she  had  never  had  any  religious  train- 
ing and  her  home  environment  had  not  been  con- 
ducive to  the  proper  knowledge  of  her  faith.  She 
was  the  dearest  girl  in  the  world,  and  some  day, 
(soon,  he  hoped,)  she  would  come  to  know  and 
appreciate  the  supernal  joy  to  be  found  in  a  closer 
union  with  and  knowledge  of  Our  Lord  in  the  Holy 
Eucharist.  That  was  one  reason  he  had  bought  the 
statue,  to  lead  her  by  degrees  into  a  love  for  the 
old  devotions  of  the  Church.  .  .  . 

"Just  as  you  say,  of  course,"  he  stammered  at 
last.  "Wouldn't  you — but  of  course  you  wouldn't — 
rather  have  glass  candle-sticks  down  stairs?" 

Agatha  frowned.  "In  the  hall,  Joe?  Absurd! 
Anyhow,  I  don't  want  to  hide  my  candle-sticks  away 
up  stairs  when  everybody's  so  wild  about  antiques." 
Toward  the  end  her  tone  waxed  decidedly  fretful 
.  .  offended  .  . 

Joe  yielded  up  his  dream.  "All  right,  dear," 
he  said,  amiably.  "We'll  get  glass  candle  sticks 
for  St.  Joseph.  Do  you  know,"  he  added  shyly, 
slipping  an  arm  around  his  wife,  "I  think  the  dear 
old  saint  is  going  to  bless  our  home  and  bring  us 
every  happiness." 


THE  +  SIGN 


QRIVATELY  Agatha  thought  that  the  dear  old 
saint  had  not  made  a  very  good  beginning, 
but  the  hardness  around  her  heart  melted  a 
little  at  her  husband's  tenderness,  and  she  smiled 
back  at  him  with  a  queer  twinge  of  remorse.  Dear 
old  Joe!  How  good  he  was!  And  how  little  he 
dreamed  of  how  bitterly  he  had  disappointed  her! 
Perhaps  she  was  mean  and  small,  but  she  couldn't 
help  it.  You'd  have  to  be  an  angel  out  of  heaven 
to  rejoice  over  a  statue  of  St.  Joseph,  and  a  marble 
one  that  had  cost  a  mint  of  money  at  that — when 
you  needed  just  loads  of  things  for  the  house  to 
say  nothing  at  all  of  yourself. 

But  by  an  effort  very  much  to  her  credit  Agatha 
conquered  her  feeling  of  grievance  and  the  anni- 
versary ended  happily  enough.  In  time  St.  Joseph 
acquired  a  white  enameled,  three  cornered  bracket 
from  which  he  looked  benignantly  down,  seemingly 
perfectly  satisfied  with  the  glass  candle-sticks  and 
the  growing  flowers  on  his  little  stand.  Agatha 
brought  her  bird  upstairs  too  and  it  amused  her  to 
see  how  he  cocked  a  knowing  eye  at  the  statue  and 
trilled  out  his  wonderful  song  as  though  he  were 
trying  to  tell  St.  Joseph  all  about  the  joy  of  life. 

"That's  his  Credo,"  declared  Joe  when  she  told 
him.  "Listen!"  holding  up  his  finger,  "this  is  the 
Our  Father,  isn't  it  Dicky?  Now  for  the  Hail  Mary 
— what  did  I  tell  you?"  to  the  final  burst  of  melody, 
"They're  all  different." 

Agatha  laughed  outright.  "Joe,  you're  too 
funny!"  she  exclaimed. 

"I  don't  see  anything  funny  about  that.  What 
do  you  mean?" 

"Oh,"  Agatha  shrugged,  impatient  of  the  expla- 
nation, "the  way  you  drag  religion  into  everything." 

"Well,"  Joe  made  answer  gravely  and  very 
gently,  "religion  ought  to  be  a  vital  part  of  our  life. 
Don't  you  think  so,  dear?" 

Agatha  made  a  very  disconcerting  reply. 
"Religion  doesn't  mean  as  much  to  me  as  it  does  to 
you,  Joe." 

"Hah!"  Joe  cried  quickly,  veering  away  from 
a  possible  shoal — he  knew  better  than  to  allow 
invidious  comparisons — "Hah,  who  takes  care  of 
the  shrine  and  keeps  fresh  flowers  there  and  chases 
every  bit  of  dust  away  from  St.  Joseph?  Tell  me 
that!" 

Agatha  looked  embarrassed.  "But  I  don't  think 
I  do  it  from  any  religious  feeling,"  she  said  honestly. 
"I'm  fond  of  the  shrine,  though,  and  I  do  love  the 
statue.     Who  could  help  it?     It's  such  an  exquisite 


thing,"  and  her  eyes  softened  as  she  looked  up  at 
the  rugged,  perfectly  chiseled  features. 

Joe  felt  vaguely  disquieted  but  he  answered 
lightly,  "Of  course  you  love  him.  And  he'll  reward 
your  care  of  him  some  day  too — mark  my  words!" 
You  have  to  give  her  time,  he  meditated  rather  sadly, 
scoring  himself  that  he  had  not  proved  a  better 
teacher.  "But  jinks,"  he  muttered  in  all  humility, 
"I  couldn't  preach  to  a  girl  like  Agatha.  She's  as 
good  as  gold.  All  she  needs  .  .  .  ."  He  sighed 
for  lack  of  words. 

gLL  she  needed  was  to  wake  up  and  that  she 
did  one  memorable  afternoon.  She  had  been 
down  town  to  buy  the  sherbet  glasses — every- 
thing comes  to  him  who  waits — and  let  herself  in 
happily,  humming  as  she  ran  lightly  upstairs.  "I 
must  treat  St.  Joseph,"  she  said  to  herself  with  a 
merry  grimace.  "I'll  light  his  candles  right  away, 
and — "  She  stopped  short..  A  burly  ruffian  was 
in  the  alcove  with  the  statue  in  his  arms.  He 
glared  at  her  and  she  thought  she  was  going  to 
faint. 

"Caught  me,  didn't  you?"  he  snarled.  "You 
get  out  o'  my  way  and  I  won't  hurt  yeh,  but  you  try 
to  holler  and  I'll  brain  you  with  this!"  menacing 
her  with  the  statue. 

Agatha  found  her  voice.  "  Don't!"  she  gasped. 
"Don't  take  the  statue!  You  don't  want  that,  do 
you?  .  .  Please,  don't  take  my  St.  Joseph,"  the 
tears  running  down  her  cheeks.  She  clung  to  the 
bed  and  watched  him  in  growing  horror  as  he 
approached  the  door.  "Don't  take  it!"  she  begged 
sobbingly.  "Take  anything  else  .  .  there's  silver 
downstairs  .  .  You  can  have  anything  in  the  house, 
but  leave  me  my  St.  Joseph — " 

"Yah,  you  an'  your  St.  Joseph!"  scoffed  the 
burglar  as  he  sprang  through  the  door.  "Don't  you 
make  a  move  or  it  won't  be  good  for  yeh!"  She 
heard  him  fling  himself  down  the  stairs,  heard  a 
door  close.  Was  he  gone?  She  could  not  be  sure 
and  for  a  long  time  she  crouched  by  the  bed, 
literally  paralyzed  with  fear.  At  last  she  stole 
trembling  to  the  extension  phone  in  the  hall  and 
called  Joe.  She  listened  again — the  silence  was 
profound.    He  must  be  gone.  .  Yes,  he  must  be.  .  . 

©ACK  in  the  room   she   turned  to  the  bereft 
alcove  with  streaming  eyes.     "If  I  had  only 
gotten  to  light  his  candles  for  the  last  time," 
she  sobbed  inconsequently;  and  quite  suddenly  it 


THE  +  SIGN 


came  over  Agatha  Brehmer  that  it  was  not  the  work 
of  art,  the  exquisite  marble  statue  she  was  missing, 
it  was  the  dear,  benignant,  kind  face  of  St.  Joseph. 
For,  all  unconsciously  these  many  weeks  while  she 
had  been  caring  for  the  little  shrine  he  had  been 
drawing  her  gently  but  surely  toward  a  clearer 
knowledge  and  understanding  of  those  simple  de- 
votions of  the  Church,  which  are  to  religion  what 
the  many-colored  bulbs  are  to  a  Christmas  tree, 
not  only  decorative  but  also  an  element  of  light  and 
beauty.  She  sank  on  her  knees  by  the  bed  and  sent 
up  such  a  flaming  petition  as  put  to  shame  even  the 
ardent  faith  of  her  husband.  . 

Joe's  arrival  found  her  calm  and  collected. 
Their  small  store  of  silver  was  gone,  even  the  prized 
candle-sticks,  and  the  house  was  all  topsy-turvy, 
but  they  were  cheerful  about  it,  though  Agatha  did 
weep  again  at  sight  of  the  bereft  shrine.  She  told 
Joe  forlornly,  "The  room  will  never  seem  the  same — 
unless  we  get  it  back — " 

"Dont  count  on  that,  dear.  But  I'll  get  you 
another  one,"  Joe  added,  thinking  rather  ruefully 
that  with  all  these  losses  it  would  be  some  time 
before  he  could  afford  another  marble  statue. 

Agatha  gave  him  a  strange  look.  Didn't  he 
know  that  no  other  statue  could  ever  take  the  place 
of  this  one,  which  had  seemed  to  become  in  a 
special  manner  her  own  dear  St.  Joseph? 

Joe  was  shuddering  over  his  wife's  escape. 
Curious  the  fellow  hadn't  tried  to  hold  her  up  for 
money  or  jewelry.  He  couldn't  have  been  a  regular 
burglar  or  he  never  would  have  overlooked  that. 


w 


HETHER  the  man  was  a  regular  burglar  or 
not  the  Brehmers  were  never  destined  to 
learn,  but  Agatha  declared  that  he  was  not; 


or  that  if  he  was  St.  Joseph  had  stricken  him  with 
remorse  of  conscience;  for  at  ten  o'clock  when  Joe 
went  down  to  fix  the  furnace  for  the  night  he 
stumbled  over  a  queer  bundel  and,  switching  on 
the  light  in  the  coal  cellar  saw  the  statue  of  St. 
Joseph  standing  serenely  on  top  of  the  fuel.  Not 
until  he  had  opened  the  bundle  and  beheld  all 
their  stolen  possessions,  and  had  stared  for  a  full 
minute  at  the  image  of  his  patron  saint,  did  he 
venture  to  call  Agatha. 

"Look!"  he  cried  excitedly  as  she  came  running 
down  the  steps,  "here's  everything — your  candle- 
sticks— the  silver — " 

But  Agatha  had  glimpsed  the  statue.  "Oh 
Joe,  and  my  dear  St.  Joseph!  I  knew  I'd  get  him 
back!  Joe,"  she  went  on  solemnly,  as  one  lifted  up 
the  beloved  statue  reverently,  "somehow  I  felc  that 
my  prayer  would  be  answered — not  that  I  deserved 
it — "  She  raised  lovely,  shining,  tear-wot  eyes  to 
her  husband.  "You  see,  I've  been  learning  things," 
humbly.  "I  have,  really — and  I  understand  now — 
I'm  trying  .  .  to  be  more  like  you " 

Joe  gave  an  incoherent  exclamation  as  he 
gathered  wife  and  statue  close  in  his  arms.  "Why, 
honey,"  he  protested,  "you're  worth  two  of  me!" 

"It  was  St.  Joseph,"  whispered  Agatha,  un- 
heeding.   "It  was  St.  Joseph!" 

And — would  any  cold  materialist  believe  it?  — 
they  walked  upstairs  leaving  the  silver  and  heir- 
looms scattered  about  the  cellar  floor.  Oh  yes,  they 
retrieved  them  in  the  morning.  For  by  that  time 
St.  Joseph  was  returned  to  his  bracket,  his  candles 
were  lighted  and  twinkling  up  at  Dicky  bird,  and 
Agatha  was  affirming  over  and  over  that  she  was 
the  happiest  girl  in  the  world.  Joe,  it  may  be 
stated,  was  perfectly  happy  too. 


Holland,  once  ranked  as  a  stronghald  of  Pro- 
testantism, is  now  nearly  two-fifths  Catholic.  That 
country  since  the  seventeenth  century  has  harbored 
a  group  of  Jansenistic  schismatics.  Inasmuch  as 
they  carried  over  an  episcopate  their  orders  are 
valid.  Many  scandals  arose  with  the  Archbishops 
of  Utrecht  at  various  times  accommodating  the 
German  "Old  Catholics,"  English  High  Church 
clergymen  and  Oriental  adventures  with  episcopal 
consecration.  However  this  schism  also  has  lost 
ground,  its  membership  now  being  about  ten 
thousand. 


The  Knights  of  Columbus  have  their  emulators 
in  the  British  Isles  in  the  Knights  of  St.  Columba 
and  the  Knights  of  St.  Columbanus.  The  Knights 
of  St.  Columba  were  organized  in  Glasgow  about 
two  years  ago  and  have  grown  rapidly  throughout 
Great  Britain  and  will  soon  have  branches  on  the 
Continent.  The  CATHOLIC  TIMES  of  London 
urges:  "What  is  to  prevent  a  "linking-up"  between 
the  K.  O.  S.  C.  and  the  Knights  of  St.  Andrew,  and 
then,  finally,  union  with  the  great  American 
Order?" 


The  Lawmen's  Week-end  Retreat  League  of  Philadelphia 


John  J.  Sullivan 


7  HE  men's  lay-retreat  movement  goes  steadily   forward.     The  East  now  has  specially  adapted 
houses  for  men's  retreats  at  New  York  (Manresa),  Boston  (Brighton),  Pittsburgh,  and  Phila- 
delphia (Malvern) ;  besides  accommodations  for  Summer  in  colleges  at  Beatty,  Pa.,  Dunkirk, 
N.  Y.,  and  elsewhere.    The  motive,  purpose,  feasibility  and  enthusiasm  engendered  are  again  set 
forth  in  this  story  of  the  Philadelphia  foundation. — Editors. 


H 


OR  a  number  of  years  two  retreats  for 
laymen  have  been  conducted  annually  at 
the   well 


known 
Seminary  of  St. 
Charles  Borromeo 
which  is  situated 
in  Overbrook,  on 
the  outskirts  of 
P  h  i  1  a  d  e  1  p  hia. 
Each  year  some 
hundreds  of  men 
have  spent  a  few 
days  at  the  Sem- 
inary where  the 
retreats  were 
given  by  Rever- 
end T.  J.  Shealy, 
S.  J. 

As  the  Semi- 
nary buildings  are 
available  for  re- 
treats during  only 
a  portion  of  the 
summer  vacation, 
and  as  the  retreats 
for  the  numerous 
diocesan  clergy 
take  up  most  of 
this  time,  the  lay- 
men have  been 
planning  for  years 
to  acquire  a  house 
of  their  own. 
Many  who  wanted 
to  make  retreats 
at  the  Overbrook 
Seminary  found  themselves  unable  to  attend  during 
the    brief   period   when   the    Seminary    authorities 


HIS  EMINENCE  CARDINAL  DOU 
RETREAT 


were  able  to  extend  their  gracious  hospitality  to  the 
laymen. 

The  ambition 
of  the  late  John 
J.  Ferreck,  who 
founded  the  work 
in  Philadelphia, 
was  to  establish 
a  permanent  home 
for  retreatants  in 
the  beautiful  su- 
burbs of  that  city. 
He  died  before 
realizing  this  am- 
bition but  the 
ever  -growing 
number  of  the 
retreatants 
forced  upon  them 
the  necessity  of 
carrying  out  the 
work  projected  by 
Mr.   Ferreck. 

Accordingly, 
a  handsome  estate 
has  been  bought 
recently  in  the 
wooded  hills  of 
Malvern,  about 
fifteen  miles  to 
the. west  of  Phila- 
delphia. Although 
this  property  is 
quite  near  the 
P  enn  s  y  1  vania 
Railroad  Station 
at  Malvern  and  is 
within  easy  ac- 
cess of  the  shops  of  that  borough,  it  is  screened 
from  adjoining  properties  by  a  thick  belt  of  fine 


GHERTY  PROTECTOR  OF  LAYMEN'S 
LEAGUE 


THE  +SIGN 


built  about  twenty-five  years  ago.  The 
ceilings  are  high  and  all  the  other 
proportions  of  the  house  are  ample. 
On  the  ground  floor,  two  large  drawing 
rooms  have  been  thrown  together  in 
order  to  provide  space  for  a  chapel. 
On  top  of  the  house  is  an  observation 
platform  that  commands  a  view  of 
the  surrounding  country  for  many 
miles. 

Not  far  from  the  main  building 
is  a  commodious  structure  where  the 
kitchen  and  the  dining  room  are 
located,  as  well  as  quarters  for  those 
who  will  provide  meals  for  the 
retreatants  and  keep  the  building  clean. 

PLANS  FOR  THE  COMING  YEAR 


GATE  AND  KEEPER'S  LODGE 

trees.  These  trees  also  serve  to  protect  it  from 
the  northern  winds.  To  the  south  the  beholder 
overlooks  a  beautiful  sloping  country  dotted  here 
and  there  with  farmhouses  and  bounded  along  the 
distant  horizon  by  green  woods. 

Thus,  in  their  property  of  fifty-five  acres,  the 
retreatants  can  enjoy  the  benefits  of  complete  seclu- 
sion from  the  outside  world  amid  surroundings  of 
natural  beauty.  A  week-end  spent  in  this  beautiful 
place,  breathing  the  bracing  air  of  the  Chester 
County  hills,  must  renew  the  body,  just  as  the 
spiritual  exercises  renew  the  soul. 

THE    BUILDINGS 

^^^HE  property  is  approached  along  Warren 
V_J  Avenue  which  leads  directly  from  the  rail- 
road station.  At  the  main  entrance  is  a 
handsome  lodge  capable  of  accommodating  care- 
takers, and  of  providing  also  for  a  few  retreatants 
in  case  of  an  overflow  from  the  main  building. 
From  this  lodge  one  follows  a  winding  lane  lined 
with  beautiful  rhododendrons,  which  runs  for  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  through  the  private  grounds  of  the 
Retreat  House  grounds.  At  the  end  of  this  lane 
one  suddenly  comes  into  view  of  the  main  building 
and  also  of  the  fertile  countryside  which  stretches 
for  miles  to  the  south. 

The  main  building  consists  of  a  large  mansion 


© 


HE  purposes  of  the  Laymen's 
Week-End  Retreat  League  of 
Philadelphia  are  well  indicated 
by  the  name  of  this  corporation.  All  its  members 
are  laymen.  Of  course,  it  was  chartered  and  acquired 
its  property  only  after  receiving  the  full  approval 
cf  Cardinal  Dougherty.  His  Eminence  has  shown 
deep  interest  in  the  League's  work,  dedicated  the 
Retreat  House  on  Sunday,  May  21,  1922.  He  has 
appointed  Reverend  Joseph  M.  Corrigan,  D.  D.,  at 
present  a  professor  at  the  Overbrook  Seminary, 
to  be  the  Retreat  Master. 

EFFECTS  OF  RETREATS 

^^^HE  evils  of  the  present  time  are  due  in  no 
%/J  small  measure  to  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  our 
daily  life.  We  are  living  at  a  faster  pace 
than  our  fathers  and  our  grandfathers  would  have 
thought  possible.  We  must  attend  to  more  matters 
in  the  course  of  the  twenty-four  hours  than  the 
ordinary  business  man  of  a  generation  ago  could 
attend  to  in  a  week.  The  result  is  that  the  limita- 
tions upon  our  time  and  energy  forbid  us  to  consider 
the  things  of  the  soul,  unless  we  deliberately  set 
apart  a  definite  time  for  this  purpose  and  withdraw 
from  our  customary  environment. 

Thus,  a  retreat  house  is  the  special  antidote  for 
the  chief  ills  of  the  present  day.  It  enables  men  to 
find  and  to  face  themselves.  Many  of  those  who 
make  a  retreat  for  the  first  time  appear  never  to 
have  contemplated  seriously  what  they  are,  why 


THE  +  SIGN 


they  are  here  in  this  world,  and  how  they  must  act 
in  order  to  live  up  to  the  purpose  of  their  creation. 
While  they  are  regulated  in  their  intercourse  with 
their  fellow  beings  by  certain  arbitrary  legal  or 
social  rules  of  conduct,  they  have  no  conception  of 
the  fundamentals  upon  which  human  society  rests 
and  by  which  his  relation  to  every  other  man  must  be 
3'udged. 

To  most  persons  who  have  never  made  a  retreat 
the  sudden  realization  of  their  having  lost  a  just 
sense  of  proportion  comes  as  a  revelation.  They 
begin  to  see  things  in  proper  perspective,  and  those 
who  return  year  after  year  find  the  week-end  retreat 
a  time  to  take  a  spiritual  inventory,  to  balance  their 
accounts,  and  to  see  how  far  they  have  advanced  or 
fallen  back  during  the  previous  year. 

It  has  been  the  experience  of  priests  observing 
the  laymen  who  have  attended  the  retreats  at  the 

Overbrook  Seminary  that  these  laymen  become 
filled  with  a  desire  to  do  something  for  the  Church. 
They  go  back  to  their  respective  parishes  determined 
to  take  a  more  active  interest  in  parochial  works 

and  in  the  advancement  of  the  faith  generally.  Of 
course,  this  is  only  natural,  for  the  essential  lesson 

of  the  retreat  is  the  importance  of  things  eternal 

when  weighed  in  the  balance  with  the  things  of  this 

world. 

As    an    appropriate    illustration   of   the    above 

might  be  given  the  conviction  that  came  to  a  phy- 
sician after  his  first  retreat.    When  he 
4vas    invited    to    make    a    retreat,    he 

pleaded  as  excuse  for  not  going  that 

he   was   a   very   busy   man,   and   the 

demands   made   upon   his   time   were 

such,  that  it  was  not  possible  to  spare 

the  time  required.    That  he  was  a  very 

busy  man,  with  his  hospital  and  office 

work,  no   one   could   or   would   deny. 

But  his  friend  urged  "that  is  the  very 

reason  why  I  invited  you  to  come." 

After  considerable  time  spent  in  pre- 
senting the  matter  from  many  angles 

he  finally  yielded  and  made  the  retreat. 

From  that  moment  he  was  an  apostle 

of  laymens  retreats.     At  his  first  visit 

to  the  hospital  for  professional  duties, 

he  said  to  one  of  the  nuns,  "why  have 

priests  and  sisters  kept  this  good  thing 

to  themselves  for  so  long.     The  few 

days    that    I    spent    in    retreat    were 

among  the  happiest  days  of  my  life. 


The  memory  of  those  few  days,  all  too  short, 
will  be  most  powerful  in  helping  me  till  the  time 
for  next  years  retreat  comes   round." 

The  more  a  man  is  occupied,  and  the  weightier 
are  the  responsibilities  that  rest  on  his  shoulders, 
the  more  advantage  is  to  be  expected  from  such  a 
man  making  a  retreat.  In  the  ages  of  Faith,  em- 
ployers gave  the  time  and  defrayed  the  expenses  for 
their  employees  to  make  a  retreat;  in  some  instances 
they  erected  the  retreat  houses.  Even  in  our  own 
days,  when  the  retreat  house  was  building  in  the 
City  of  Pittsburgh,  one  of  the  largest  Steel  Com- 
panies of  that  city,  gave  the  munificent  sum  of 
$1,000,  which  was  one  thousand  dollars  worth  of 
conviction,  that  retreats  are  well  worth  while,  that 
they  establish  in  a  man  solid  convictions  that  are 
helpful,  both  for  time  and  for  eternity. 

It  is  hoped  that  everything  will  be  ready  for 
starting  the  retreats  early  in  June,  1922.  The 
present  accommodations  will  enable  fifty  retreatants 
to  be  housed  and  supplied  with  meals  over  each 
week-end.  In  case  of  there  being  more  than  fifty, 
a  few  additional  men  could  be  provided  for,  but 
the  aim  is  to  avoid  over-crowding  which  interferes 
with  the  privacy  and  the  detachment  so  helpful  in 
the  making  of  a  retreat. 

In  1922,  probably  the  week-end  retreats  will 
be  continued  until  some  time  in  November.  It  is 
hoped  that  they  will  be  resumed  early  in  April,  1923. 


[OUSE    AT    MALVERN 


THE  1*  SIGN 


THE  STATIONS 
OF  THE  CROSS 

J^HE      estate 
^SJ  c  o  n  t  a  ins 

nearly 
thirty  acres  of 
woodland.  Paths 
have  been  cut 
through  the 
woods.  Little 
clearings  have 
been  made  at 
regular  intervals 
where  the  Stations 
of  the  Cross  will 
be  set  up,  so  that 
in  clear  weather 
this  devotion  may 
be  practiced  out- 
doors   instead    of 

FIRST     GLIMPSE 

in  the  chapel. 

Large  tablets  depicting  in  relief  the  scenes  of 
the  Fourteen  Stations  of  the  Cross  will  be  attached 
to  trees.  Ultimately,  it  is  expected  that  more  solid 
and  permanent  Stations  of  the  Cross  will  be  set 
up  on  mounds  at  various  points  along  the  woodland 
paths. 

OPEN    TO    ALL 

While  doubtless  the  Malvern  Retreat  House  will 
be  occupied  mainly  by  men  from  the  diocese  of 
Philadelphia,  all  others  are  welcome.  The  customary 
offering  of  those  who  spend  a  week-end  at  Malvern 


will  be  $10.  This 
will  cover  sleep- 
ing accommoda- 
tions' for  three 
nights,  as  well  as 
eight  meals  be- 
ginning with  sup- 
per on  Friday 
evening  and  end- 
ing with  breakfast 
on  the  following 
Monday  morning. 
Applications 
for  reservations 
should  be  sent  to 
Reverend  Joseph 
M.  Corrigan,  D.D. 
St.  Joseph's  -  in  - 
the-Hills,  Mal- 
vern, Pa. 

ON    ENTERING  The    entrance 

to  the  retreat 
house  is  on  Warren  Avenue,  only  a  short  distance 
from  the  famous  Lincoln  Highway,  so  that  those 
coming  by  automobile  will  find  it  easy  to  reach 
the  place.  Most  of  the  retreatants  will  come  by 
the  Pennsylvania  Railroad  and  alight  at  Malvern 
Station.  This  station  is  on  the  main  line  running 
from  Philadelphia  to  Pittsburgh.  There  are  many 
local  trains  to  and  from  Philadelphia.  Moreover, 
passengers  on  most  through  trains  which  do  not 
stop  at  Malvern  may  get  off  at  Paoli,  which  is 
only  one  mile  from  Malvern,  and  secure  automobile 
transportation  from  the  Paoli  Station  to  the  retreat 
house. 


Impress  upon  the  young  that  God  Himself  has 
not  the  power  to  make  base  and  sinful  souls  happy; 
that  favors  bestowed  upon  them  would  be  like  gifts 
to  the  dead. 

Bp.  Spalding. 
*     *     *     * 

An  extensive  agenda,  dealing  with  the  revival 
of  the  Irish  language,  arts  and  crafts,  and  the 
economic  reconstruction  in  Ireland  is  being  discussed. 


Mrs.  Marie  Fusz  died  recently  in  St.  Louis. 
According  to  her  authenticated  birth  certificate  she 
was  born  in  Kattstatt,  Alsace,  on  Christmas  Day, 


1815.     She  had  never  missed  attending  5:30  o'clock 
Mass  daily  in  nearly  100  years. 

There  is  a  very  prosperous  active  order  of 
Passionist  Sisters  with  their  Mother  House  at 
Bolton,  England.  On  the  Feast  of  the  Epiphany 
eleven  Sisters  received  the  habit  and  six  were 
professed. 

:iw        *  *  * 

Carlisle,  England,  placed  under  State  super- 
vision after  being  chosen  for  an  experiment  in  so- 
called  temperance  methods,  has  the  distinction  of 
being  the  one  city  in  the  realm  showing  an  increase 
in  drunkenness. 


If  This  Were   Fiction 


Friar  Lawrence 


EIC^ON  spins  strange  tales.  Aided  by 
its  ally,  the  imagination,  it  evolves  a  plot 
and  weaves  a  story,  captivating  and  thrill- 
ing. It  creates  situations  and  portrays  hap- 
penings which  are  truly  marvellous.  In  its  line  it 
has  but  one  rival,  truth.  Real  life  far  surpasses  in 
oddity  the  imaginary  world  of  fiction.  If  the  few 
incidents  which  I  am  going  to  relate,  appeared  in 
story  form,  the  reader,  no  doubt,  would  deem  them 
"the  imaginings  of  a  pious  soul."  Yet  they  are 
facts,  narrated  to  me  by  one  of  New  York's  promi- 
nent business  men.  His  name  is  familiar  to  the 
buying  public  for  we  find  his  goods  advertised  in 
nearly  every  city  of  the  Union.  This  gentleman  is 
and  has  always  been  a  non-catholic.  A  short  time 
ago  I  had  occasion  to  transact  some  business  with 
him,  and  when  I  was  about  to  leave  he  asked  me  if 
I  could  spare  a  few  minutes  for  a  chat.  It  was  one 
of  those  excessively  warm  days  in  mid-summer 
and  I  was  only  too  willing  to  lengthen  my  stay  and 
enjoy  the  artificial  breezes  of  the  electric  fans. 
He  was  in  a  meditative  mood  and  our  talk  drifted 
into  the  history  of  his  business.  After  a  short  time 
he  said  to  me : 

"Father,  I  would  like  to  tell  you  some  of  the 
strange  things  that  have  happened  to  me  during 
my  long  business  life.  They  seem  strange  to  me 
now  as  I  look  back  but  at  the  time  they  appeared 
otherwise,  in  fact  I  did  not  even  think  of  them  at 
all." 

I  shall  endeavor  to  tell  these  occurances  to  you 
as  they  were  told  to  me.  We  might  label  them, 
"If  this  were  fiction." 


XN  the  early  days  of  my  business,  my  re- 
sources were  very  slim.  I  occupied  a  small 
building,  using  the  first  floor  as  a  show  room 
and  the  second  as  my  living  quarters.  I  had  as  an 
assistant,  a  Catholic  young  man  who  interested  me 
very  much.  He  had  those  attractive  qualities  which 
go  to  make  a  universal  favorite.  Our  work  brought 
us  together  a  great  deal.  In  the  course  of  a  year  we 
had  become  fast  friends.  One  afternoon  I  unfolded 
to  him  my  ambition  of  building  up  my  business 
until  it  should  become  a  factor  in  the  commercial 


world.  After  saving  a  little  more  money,  I  would 
enlarge  my  store  and  continue  to  do  so  until  my 
dream  should  be  realized.  'And  I,'  he  said  to  me, 
'have  also  an  ambition.  You  want  to  rule  in  the 
commercial  world,  but  I  am  looking  higher,  for  I 
have  set  my  heart  on  ruling  in  the  spiritual  world. 
From  the  time  that  I  can  remember,  I  have  always 
wanted  to  be  a  priest.  I  have  studied  at  school,  I 
have  studied  at  night,  I  have  worked  for  you,  I 
have  saved  my  earnings,  all  to  this  one  end,  that 
some  day  I  should  be  a  priest.'  I  looked  at  him  in 
surprise  and  for  a  moment  I  could  not  speak.  That 
this  young  man,  talented  and  efficient,  had  but  one 
desire  and  that  to  forsake  the  prospects  that  the ' 
future  held  out  to  him  in  order  to  consecrate  his  life 
to  God,  was  something  new  in  my  experience.  I  was 
astounded.  True,  I  had  read  of  such  men,  but  this 
was  the  first  time  I  had  ever  met  one.  To  me  this 
man  was  deserving  of  help  and  I  told  him  so.  I 
determined  to  be  his  friend  not  only  in  word  but  in 
deed. 

Today,  'my  boy,'  for  such  I  always  call  him, 
is  a  good  priest  and  it  is  one  of  the  joys  of  my  life 
to  know  that  I  helped  to  put  him  where  he  is.  My 
life's  ambition  of  becoming  an  influential  business 
man  has  been  fulfilled  and  so  has  his.  I  am  a  power 
in  the  commercial  world  but  his  power  is  far  greater 
than  mine,  for  it  reaches  even  to  the  throne  of  God.'' 


6IGHTEEN  years  ago,  a  man  walked  into  my 
establishment  and  asked  me  for  a  position. 
His  face  and  appearance  bore  all  the  marks 
of  an  habitual  drunkard.  I  questioned  him  and 
found  out  that  he  was  homeless  and  had  been  drink- 
ing but  wanted  to  reform.  I  next  learned  that  he 
was  a  Catholic.  I  told  him  that  if  he  would  go  to 
the  priest,  take  the  pledge,  and  bring  me  back  the 
card,  I  would  employ  him.  He  did  so  and  I  installed 
him  as  janitor.  For  one  month  he  gave  entire  satis- 
faction, then  disappeared.  At  the  end  of  a  week 
he  returned.  I  don't  know  why  I  did  it  but  I  gave 
him  another  chance  but  on  one  condition  only,  that 
this  time  he  would  go  to  confession  and  then  take 
the  pledge  over  again.  He  did  as  I  told  him. 
Today,  Father,  if  you  go  into  my  shipping  depart- 


THE  +  SIGN 


ment,  you  will  find  him  superintendent,  my  most 
reliable  employee  and  an  excellent  Catholic." 

*  *     *     * 

"^^HANKSGIVING-DAY,  quite  a  few  years 
V/y  ago,  was  exceptionally  cold  and  raw.  On 
arriving  home,  I  found  everything  nice  and 
cozy  and  the  savory  odors  from  the  kitchen  told  me 
that  a  feast  was  in  preparation.  The  thought  of  the 
need  and  hunger  of  the  many  poor  about  us,  came 
to  me;  I  could  not  help  but  contrast  my  present 
abundance  with  their  dismal  want.  I  told  my  wife 
that  we  must  share  our  dinner  with  some  poor 
unfortunate.  So  out  I  went  again  and  after  some 
time  I  came  upon  just  the  one  I  wanted.  I  said  to 
him:  'You  look  hungry.'  'I  sure  am,'  he  replied. 
I  brought  him  home  with  me.  A  bath  and  some 
clean  clothes  worked  wonders.  We  sat  down  to- 
gether and  enjoyed  a  great  big  turkey  and  all  that 
goes  along  with  it.  Our  guest  stayed  with  us  over 
night  and  we  had  a  long  talk,  in  the  course  of  which 
he  told  me  that  he  had  been  in  business  in  Boston 
and  had  failed.  He  had  come  to  New  York  and 
meeting  with  no  success  tried  to  forget  the  past  in 
dissipation.  The  following  day  I  shared  some  of  my 
clothes  with  him;  I  could  not  give  him  an  overcoat 
for  I  had  only  one.  Those  were  the  days  when  even 
my  pennies  had  to  be  counted.  That  evening  I  took 
him  to  the  Fall  River  Boat,  bought  him  his  ticket 
and  gave  him  a  dollar  for  I  could  not  spare  more. 
I  thought  I  had  seen  the  last  of  him,  and  he  quite 
passed  out  of  mind. 

A  year  later,  just  as  we  were  sitting  down  to 
dinner,  the  door  bell  rang.  A  gentleman  wished 
to  see  me  for  a  moment.  I  went  into  the  parlor 
and  found  a  well  dressed  and  to  all  appearances  a 
successful  business  man.  'Do  you  not  know  me?' 
he  asked,  'why,  I  took  dinner  with  you  last  Thanks- 
giving Day.'  It  was  the  man  I  had  found  in  the 
by-ways;  our  honored  guest  of  the  year  before." 

*  *     *     * 

fOMETIMES  my  wife  and  I  go  to  St.  John's 
to  attend  Mass.  Don't  be  astonished, 
Father.  I  go  because  I  always  feel  at 
peace  in  your  church  during  Mass.  One  Sunday, 
we  met  a  friend  of  ours,  a  Catholic,  who  like  us 
was  on  his  way  to  church.  He  was  surprised  to 
learn  where  we  were  going  and  bluntly  asked  me 
why  I  went  to  a  Catholic  Church.  I  answered  him  in 
the  words  of  Scripture :  'When  thou  art  in  the  holy 
place  my  shadow  is  upon  thee.'  A  few  days  later, 
I  met  him  and  he  told  me  that  he  had  got  up  that 


morning  at  five  o'clock  and  had  walked  two  miles 
to  Mass  for  the  words  I  had  quoted  to  him  kept 
ringing  in  his  ears  and  made  him  appreciate  the 
value  of  the  Mass.  'When  thou  art  in  the  holy 
place  my  shadow  is  upon  thee.' 
*     *     *     * 

BT  this  point  I  interrupted  him  and  told  him 
that  I  was  convinced  that  he  ought  to  be  a 
Catholic  and  that  I  thought  the  greatest  gift 
that  God  could  give  him  was  the  gift  of  the  Catholic 
faith. 

"Perhaps,  I  am  more  of  a  Catholic,  Father, 
than  you  think.  If  I  had  my  street  coat  on,  I  would 
show  you  something,  a  pair  of  beads  and  a  crucifix. 
I  will  tell  you  how  I  came  to  get  them. 

Some  years  ago  a  little  nun  used  to  come  here. 
She  came  almost  every  week  for  six  months  or  more. 
I  made  it  a  point  to  attend  to  her  myself  and  I  saw 
to  it  that  she  was  given  the  best  service.  She  was 
very  grateful  for  my  kindness  but  I  could  see  that 
she  feared  the  day  when  our  account  would  be 
closed.  As  you  know,  Father,  my  prices  are  rather 
high.  The  last  day  she  came,  she  timidly  asked 
me  for  the  bill.  I  looked  at  her  and  I  felt  that  she 
was  thinking  of  her  little  orphans,  of  what  they 
should  eat  and  wherewith  they  should  be  clothed. 
I  knew  that  every  dollar  I  charged  her  would  be  so 
much  less  for  them.  I  said  to  her:  'Dear  Sister, 
you  owe  me  nothing,  it  has  been  a  pleasure  to  serve 
you.'  Her  innocent  eyes  mirrored  her  grateful 
heart  for  she  could  not  speak.  She  reached  for  her 
little  black  bag  and  took  out  a  rosary  and  a  crucifix 
and  gave  them  to  me.  Father,  since  I  have  been 
in  business,  I  have  received  thousands  of  dollars 
in  payment  for  my  services,  but  I  value  that  rosary 
and  that  crucifix  far  more  than  all  the  rest.  No 
amount  of  money  could  buy  them  from  me. 

It  is  now  over  fourteen  years  since  she  gave 
them  to  me.  All  these  years  they  have  been  my 
constant  companions.  And,  Father,  every  morning 
before  I  begin  business,  I  take  those  beads  and  that 
crucifix  in  my  hand,  and  I  ask  the  good  God  to 
keep  me  and  all  those  who  serve  me,  pleasing  in 
His  sight  during  the  day." 


It  is  hard  to  realize  that  the  foregoing  are  real 
occurences  in  the  life  of  a  prominent  New  York 
business  man,  yet  such  they  are.  We  might  take 
them  and  weave  a  long  story  about  them — "If  this 
were  fiction." 


Current  Fact  and  Comment 


WHAT  YOUR 

QMONG  the  radio  broadcasting  stations  we 
notice  a  Bible  Institute,  a  Presbyterian  church 
and  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  These  institutions  have 
been  prompt  to  utilize  the  most  marvellous  instru- 
ment hitherto  devised  by  physical  science  for  the 
general  entertainment  of  the  public.  In  its  uncanny 
simplicity,  availability  and  in  the  intimacy  which 
it  provides,  the  radio  becomes  a  means  of  propo- 


RADIO   BRINGS 

ganda  perhaps  more  effective  than  the  press.  The 
same  "liberty"  may  be  claimed  by  the  employers 
of  both.  It  is  too  early  to  judge  whether  the  same 
recklessness  that  characterizes  the  opponents  of 
faith  and  of  the  social  order  in  their  use  of  the  press 
will  appear  in  their  use  of  the  radio.  In  any  case 
the  evil  should  be  forestalled. 


INTO  THE  BYWAYS 


^^^HE  autovan  of  the  Boston  lay  apostolate  is 
LJ  in  the  field  for  its  fifth  season.  This  specially 
designed  travelling  rostrum  has  admirably 
realized  its  purpose  described  by  Cardinal  O'Connell 
when  he  blessed  it  in  1917 :  This  auto-car  will  bring 
glory  to  God  and  truth  to  men.  We  gladly  bless  this 
holy  project  initiated  by  devout  Catholics  for  the 
purpose  of  making  the  truth  and  the  Church  known 
wherever  the  car  may  go."  In  the  meantime  it  has 
made   a   transcontinental   tour   in   charge   of   those 


fervent  expounders  of  Catholic  truth,  Mrs.  Margaret 
Moore  Avery  and  David  Goldstein.  Thousands  of 
copies  of  Catholic  books  and  pamphlets  have  been 
distributed.  In  view  of  the  comment  that  the 
methods  of  the  Apostles  and  other  zealous  mission- 
aries in  carrying  the  truth  into  the  highways  and 
byways  had  gone  into  desuetude,  the  Boston  auto- 
van has  demonstrated  the  feasibility  and  efficacy  of 
such  procedure.  It  has  pointed  the  way :  let  us  have 
a  fleet  of  them. 


MOTHER  GOVERNMENT 


^^HE  New  York  legislature  has  passed  its  own 
LJ  maternity  measure.  Thus  a  few  more  un- 
employed are  added  to  the  state  pay-roll. 
While  it  may  be  preferable  to  have  this  new  bureau 
under  state  rather  than  federal  control,  and  although 
the  need  of  it  may  not  have  been  designedly 
exaggerated,  one  must  feel  concern  regarding  the 
sense  of  responsibility,  the  theories  and  capability 
of  the  prospective  agents.  We  have  this  widely 
quoted  item  from  a  western  country  paper:  "A 
special  car  of  the  State  Health  Board,  in  charge  of 

CLEMENCEAU'S   POINT  OF  VIEW 


a  richly  gowned  and  bejeweled  young  woman,  came 
to  town  not  long  ago,  and  mothers  were  commanded 
to  hurry  to  the  depot  and  take  instructions  as  to 
how  to  raise  their  babies.  Then  came  a  Govern- 
ment nurse,  another  unmarried  woman,  weighing 
the  babies  and  instructing  the  mothers  as  to  the 
sort  of  infants  they  must  give  birth  to  hereafter, 
etc.,  etc.  .  .  Men,  women  and  children  are  restrained, 
assessed,  directed,  prohibited,  admonished,  examined 
and  constantly  reminded  what  a  rare  privilege  it 
is  to  be  a  citizen  of  this  free  country." 


GOLONEL  Repington  in  his  diary  records  a 
meeting  with  Clemenceau  and  incidentally 
finding  him  in  the  best  of  company,  a  spiritual 
daughter  of  St.  Vincent.  Shortly  before  he  had  been 
shot  and  the  conversation  turned  upon  that.  "His 
wound?  It  did  not  trouble  him  at  all.  The  bullet 
was  still  there,  and  he  pointed  to  the  spot  a  little 
to  the  right  of  his  breastbone,  below  the  throat, 
where  it  lay  transversely.  It  was  quite  happy  there, 
and  had  found  a  resting-place.  His  Sister  of  Charity 
had  described  it  as  a  miracle  of  Heaven  that  this 
was  so.  Clemenceau  had  replied  that  if  Heaven 
had  intended  to  perform  a  miracle  it  would  have 
been  better  to  have  prevented  his  aggressor  from 
shooting  him  at  all." 


Probably  the  old  Frenchman  meant  this  only 
for  a  bit  of  cynical  humor.  He  knew  better — 
knew  that  the  purpose  of  a  miracle  is  to  arouse 
attention,  wonder,  gratitude.  As  to  mere  prevention, 
the  diverting  of  harm  from  us,  Providence  must 
needs  be  busy  in  our  favor  hourly.  Not  being  con- 
scious of  the  benign  process,  we  grow  heedless  of 
the  source  of  our  security.  It  is  when  Providence 
suspends  its  ordinary  protective  laws,  allows  evil  to 
encompass  us  and  still  not  harm  us  that  we  have 
the  purpose  of  a  miracle  realized.  Lazarus  had  to 
die  before  the  Divine  power  could  be  made  manifest 
in  raising  him  up.  Christ  had  to  suffer  "these 
things"  preparatory  to  the  triumphant  testimony  of 
his  resurrection. 


20 


THE  1*  SIGN 


GETTING   IT  TO 

^i^^HERE  is  an  old  story  of  a  man  who  put  a 
y_  J  dollar  and  a  penny  in  the  envelope  which  he 
dropped  into  the  missionary  collection-plate. 
He  explained  that  the  cent  was  for  the  heathen  and 
the  dollar  to  get  it  to  them.  The  point  in  the  story 
scarcely  applies  to  the  functioning  of  Catholic 
charities.      An    analysis    of    the    various    diocesan 


THE   HEATHEN 

charity  reports  reveals  gratifying  economy  in  apply- 
ing very  generous  contributions  to  the  relief  of  the 
distressed  and  unfortunate.  Regarding  your  con- 
tributions to  the  foreign  missions,  so  directly  do 
they  reach  their  object  and  so  carefully  are  they 
administered  by  self-sacrificing  missionaries  that 
the  point  in  the  story  might  fairly  be  reversed. 


ONE   BORN   EVERT  MINUTE 


^^ECENTLY  on  complaint  of  hundreds  of  de- 
l3£  luded  investors  the  directors  of  a  "mining 
company"  were  jailed  in  the  metropolis.  It 
was  estimated  that  through  the  primitive  scheme  of 
"salting"  a  few  acres  of  land  they  secured  close  to 
a  million  dollars  in  exchange  for  beautifully  en- 
graved stock  certificates.  One  marvels  that  so 
crude  a  scheme  portraying  rich,  parallel  veins  of 
silver,  gold  and  platinum  lying  at  the  city's  border 
should  find  so  many  easy  victims.  The  promotors 
opportunely  reckoned  that  a  sufficient  number  of  the 
unwary  were  on  hand — having  been  accumulated 
according  to  the  familiar  ratio  of  one  a  minute.  It 
is  this  more  or  less  extravagant  axiom  that  lends 
encouragement  to  the  wilful  calumniators  of  the 
Church  and  of  Catholic  organizations.  Bigotry 
"though  crushed  to  earth  will  rise  again."  We  grow 
weary  of  rebuttal.  Scarcely  have  we  clearly  con- 
vinced our  fellow-citizens  that  Catholics  have   no 

WHAT  WILL 

^^^HE  movement  to  interest  parents  in  college 
^  J  training  for  our  youth  is  very  commendable. 
If  the  college  is  the  gateway  to  both  affluence 
and  influence  we  should  not  be  at  ease  knowing 
that  our  youth  were  peculiarly  indifferent  to  the  fact. 
Upon  the  Catholic  college  particularly  do  we  base 
our  hopes  that  the  interests  of  religion  and  of  the 
Cathoiic  family  will  be  in  efficient  hands  in  the 
coming  generation. 

But,  in  any  case,  parents  should  beware  of 
letting  their  children  start  wrong  as  wage-earners. 
In  this  matter  justice  demands  that  parents  un- 
selfishly direct  and  advise.  There  are  too  many 
jobs  with  a  fair  wage  but  requiring  only  a  certain 
automatic  service  which  boys  and  girls  are  often 
too  eager  to  take  in  exchange  for  the  grind  of  their 
school  days.  Thus  is  ambition  often  quenched  and 
many  a  career  shunted  into  a  dull  rut. 

Large  contractors  will  inform  you  that  there 
is  no  prospect  of   building  costs  coming  down   so 


malignant  designs  upon  the  public  schools  or  the 
constitution,  that  Rome  has  laid  no  far-reaching 
plans  to  control  the  government  at  Washington, 
than  these  and  equally  silly  charges  are  reiterated, 
clothed  with  new  alarms  and  portents.  Let  the 
census  show  a  notable  increase  in  the  Catholic 
populations,  let  a  Catholic  run  for  public  office,  let 
the  Knights  of  Columbus  undertake  any  large,  dis- 
interested project,  and  forthwith  the  bigots  go  off 
with  a  hiss.  Gall  spurts  from  them  at  a  touch. 
And,  withal,  the  peculiarity  of  their  charges  is  their 
utter  lack  of  novelty.  Very  reasonably  do  they 
expect  results  from  the  persistent  circulation  of 
refuted  calumnies  on  the  simple  ground  that  the 
supply  of  the  unwary  is  perennial.  On  the  same 
ground  must  the  Catholic  press  ceaselessly  cope 
with  error  and  keep  at  its  task  of  refutation  and 
enlightenment. 

JOHNNY  BE? 

far  as  wages  are  concerned.  This  because  of  the 
ever  growing  scarcity  of  skilled  labor.  Even  in 
this  period  of  unemployment  some  builders  find  it 
necessary  to  offer  premiums  on  the  present  high 
wage.  Expressing  his  concern  for  the  future  in  the 
structural  crafts,  one  well-known  builder  lamented 
the  days  when  the  boys  in  our  families,  with  no 
thought  of  white-collar  jobs,  were  proud  to  be 
apprenticed  to  carpenters,  bricklayers  and  the  like. 
It  is  remarkable  that  the  tendency  to  take  up  these 
occupations  has  decreased  in  proportion  to  their 
becoming  notably  more  lucrative  and  less  irksome. 
As  the  choice  of  occupation  must  be  made  at 
a  comparatively  early  age,  parents  should  advise 
and  direct,  weighing  sharply  the  chances  for  success 
either  in  the  more  influential  professions  for  which 
a  college  preparation  is  required  or  in  those  very 
lucrative  occupations  attainable  through  apprentice- 
ship or  a  course  of  manual  training. 


THE  +  SIGN 
SOME  READING  TO  AVOID 


[PEAKING  of  the  wisdom  of  holy  Mother 
Church,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  Ruskin 
approved  the  formal  restraints  she  placed 
upon  promiscuous  reading  since  he  thus  treats  the 
most  popular  group  of  French  writers :  "I  believe 
it  (The  Hunchback  of  Notre  Dame)  to  be  the  most 
disgusting  book  ever  written  by  man,  and  on  the 
whole  to  have  caused  more  brutality  and  evil  than 

LATIN  TO 

DIVERSITY   of   language   is   a   serious   incon- 
venience in  international  trade.     Little  pro- 
gress   has    been    made    with    two    artificial 
languages   devised  to   overcome   the  obstacle.     A 
really  more  practical   proposition   is  that  recently 
urged:    the  general  study  and  use  of  Latin. 

The  wisdom  of  the  Church  is  again  manifest 
in  her  having  retained  this  venerable  tongue  for 
both  official  and  liturgical  purposes.  It  may  be 
interesting  to  repeat  here  succinctly  the  reasons  why 
the  Church  uses  Latin. 

1.  A  mark  of  the  true  Church  is  her  univers- 
ality. A  universal  community  requires  a  universal 
language. 


any  other  French  writing  with  which  I  am  acquaint- 
ed. Balzac  is  sensusal,  but  he  is  an  artist  of  the 
highest  touch  and  a  philosopher  even  in  his  sensu- 
ality. Eugene  Sue  paints  virtue  as  well  as  vice. 
Dumas  is  absurd  and  useless,  but  interesting; 
Beranger  blasphemous,  but  witty;  George  Sand 
immoral,  but  elegant.  But  for  pure,  dull,  virtueless, 
stupid,  deadly  poison  read  Victor  Hugo. 

THE   RESCUE 

2.  Being  a  "dead"  language,  Latin  is  change- 
less. Living  languages  undergo  notable  changes. 
As  an  example,  if  the  Church  had  used  French  in 
the  formula  of  baptism,  this  would  have  had  to  be 
changed  more  than  sixty  times. 

3.  No  language  excells  the  Latin  in  dignity, 
beauty  or  clearness. 

4.  From  the  standpoint  of  the  people  it  fosters 
a  universal  brotherhood  making  a  Catholic  feel  at 
home  in  a  Roman  Catholic  church  anywhere  through- 
out the  world.  The  meaning  of  the  Latin  is  quite 
clearly  conveyed  through  the  ceremonies  or  the 
translation  in  the  prayerbook.. 


ARTHUR  CONAN   DOYLE'S   SPIRITUALITY 


^^HE  term  by  which  one  critic  described  the 
V^  J  figure  of  Conan  Doyle  lecturing  on  spiritism 
was  "Pathetic".  Few  there  were  inclined  to 
judge  him  insincere,  yet  few  also  who  could  com- 
prehend how  the  master  analyst  of  human  motives 
could  entertain  his  notions  of  the  other  world. 
Christians  in  his  audience  had  to  be  conciliated. 
Hence  a  certain  reverence  for  Christ  was  proclaimed 
and  the  purpose  of  the  lecturer  emphasised  as  an 
effort  to  raise  society  from  gross  materialism  to  a 
spiritual  plane.  Conan  Doyle's  conception  of  the 
spiritual  order  is  as  incongruous  as  that  of  the 
lowliest  deluded  medium.  Undaunted  by  the  as- 
surance of  the  Savior  that  "it  hath  not  entered  into 
the  heart  of  man  to  conceive  what  God  hath  pre- 
pared for  those  who  love  Him,"  the  lecturer  describes 
the  after  life  in  minute  detail.  Most  men  would 
prefer  the  joys  and  conflicts  of  this  tough  old  world 
to  his  weird  heaven.  Admittedly  most  of  his  in- 
formation is  gathered  from  the  common  spooky 
source  of  the  seance.  At  these  assemblages  the 
text  of  St.  Matthew  is  seriously  invoked:  "Where 
two  or  three  are  gathered  in  My  Name,  there  am  I 
in  the  midst  of  them."     Thereupon  the  lights  are 


extinguished,  the  sitters  form  a  circle  of  a  precise 
diameter,  they  experiment  with  relative  positions, 
are  directed  to  keep  both  feet  on  the  floor  and  not 
to  bend  over,  to  help  their  mood  by  singing  either 
sacred  or  secular  songs  and  are  assured  that  with 
these  and  various  other  puerile  formalities  the  all 
holy  God  co-operates.  And  upon  the  purported 
revelations  thus  received  they  would  build  up  a  code 
of  morality  to  cure  the  world 'of  materialism! 

There  is  hope  for  Sir  Arthur,  pretended  Christian 
and  lover  of  his  fellows,  did  he  only  give  proper 
direction  to  his  craving  for  the  supernatural,  and 
presuming  that  his  marvellous  reason  has  not  be- 
come as  "sweet  bells  jingled,  out  of  tune  and  harsh." 
What  a  wholesome  alterative  for  such  a  mind  as 
his  in  the  noble  and  splendid  visions  of  the 
Apocalypse !  And  what  joyous  astonishment  would 
seize  upon  him  were  he  to  arise  from  the  dark, 
grovelling  plane  of  spiritism  to  an  appreciation  of 
the  mysteries  of  the  Incarnation  and  Redemption 
and  were  he  seriously  to  inquire  whether  it  was  for 
a  testimony  of  the  trivial  and  grewsome  revelations 
of  mediums  that  the  Son  of  God  hung  in  woeful 
anguish  and  gave  His  life  upon  the  Cross. 


The   Catholic   Grandson   of  Renan 

Ronald  Betson 

Redacted    from    translation    of    a    sketch    in  V  Ami  du   Clerge   appearing   in 
American   Church  Monthly. 


aS  Italy  had  her  Giosue  Borsi,  so  France  had 
her  Ernest  Psichari,  convert,  soldier  and 
ardent  lover  of  Christ.  He  was  born  at 
Paris,  September  27,  1883.  His  father 
had  him  baptized  in  his  own,  the  Greek  Orthodox 
Church.  His  mother  was  Noemi  Renan,  daughter 
of  the  author  of  the  blasphemous  "Life  of  Jesus." 
She  was  bitterly  hostile  to  Christianity.  Psichari 
was  brought  up  without  religion.  He  finished  his 
studies  at  the  Sorbonne,  taking  the  licentiate  in 
philosophy  in  1903.  At  that  time  he  was  summoned 
to  his  term  of  military  service  and  at  the  expiration 
of  this  he  startled  his  friends  by  re-enlisting. 
Enamored  of  the  open  air  and  wide  horizons  he 
entered  the  colonial  artillery  under  the  assurance 
that  thus  he  would  be  withdrawn  from  the  narrow- 
ness and  futilities  of  modern  life.  In  the  Congo  in 
1908  he  wrote  "Terres  de  Soleil  et  de  Sommeil,"  in 
praise  of  primitive  desert  life.  In  its  liquid  and 
harmonious  prose  and  in  its  theme  the  superficial 
reviewers  pretended  to  hear  nothing  more  than  an 
echo  of  his  famous  grand-sire.  Made  sub-lieuten- 
ant he  served  from  1909  to  1912  in  Mauretania.  His 
"L'Appel  des  Armes"  (1912)  describes  rather  the 
lure  of  the  desert,  for  it  was  there  the  grace  of  God 
awaited  him.  He  loved  the  desert  not  only  for  the 
range  it  offered  to  the  eager  gallop  of  the  cavalier, 
but  also  as  the  Thebaid  where  the  solitary  achieves 
high  contemplation.  He  had  not  relapsed  into  a 
languid  mysticism — the  negation  of  intellectual 
activity.  An  intellectual  by  education  he  protested 
that  he.  would  ever  rank  intelligence  above  all  else. 
In  his  case  there  are  the  familiar  progress  and 
conflict  of  the  soul  before  submission  but  set  down 
with  a  new  and  absorbing  interest.  His  masters  had 
failed  to  provide  either  hope  or  grounds  for  action: 
he  will  find  them  only  in  the  Church.  Only  in  the 
Church  is  humanity  made  and  remade,  only  in  the 
Church  have  truth  and  purity  a  chance  to  be  other 
than  mere  words.  In  order  that  some  day  he  may 
merit  membership,  he  accepts,  he  offers  all  his 
hardships. 

He  writes:  "Undoubtedly,  I  said  to  myself, 
there  are  great  souls  among  those  who  do  not  be- 
lieve.    But  they  are  rare.     One  finds  unselfishness, 


courage  and  kindness  among  those  who  dwell 
farthest  from  the  Church — no  one  can  deny  it. 
But  from  the  way  of  purgation  through  which  the 
Savior  was  now  leading  me,  how  common,  how  rude, 
on  analysis,  these  virtues  appeared!  ....  But,  so 
it  seemed  to  me,  all  these  rank  small  in  the  eyes 
of  Him  Who  has  imposed  on  those  souls  who  are 
truly  chosen  such  demands  as  the  scales  of  human 
morality  cannot  measure." 

nE  is  struck  by  the  gospel  texts  of  renunciation : 
If  any  man  come  to  Me  and  hate  not  his 
father  ....  Whosoever  shall  give  his  life 
shall  lose  it  ...  .  Blessed  are  you  when  men  hate 
you.  "These  terrible  precepts  rose  up  in  memory, 
and  I  said  to  myself  that  it  is  Jesus,  and  He  alone, 
who  has  given  commandments  like  these:  Die  to 
yourselves,  be  meek,  lose  yourself  in  My  love  .... 
In  the  face  of  this  spiritual  abundance,  this  sovereign 
power,  this  plenitude  which  breathes  from  the 
smallest  words  of  Jesus,  what  are  the  poor  com- 
mandments which  man  makes  ?  And  then  I  thought 
on  those  who  have  faithfully  executed  these  orders; 
I  turned  my  thoughts  towards  the  saints  and  the 
blessed,  and  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  deny  that 
they  are  the  loftiest  examples  of  virtue  which  the 
world  has  seen.  Then,  after  this  gaze  of  love 
toward  heaven,  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  believe 
that  the  longing  for  those  most  fragrant  virtues 
was  to  be  forever  denied  me.  Is  the  religion  false 
which  proclaims  a  code  like  this?"  No,  it  could 
not  be  false. 

And  on  June  15,  1912,  he  wrote  to  Jacques 
Maritain,  himself  a  convert  from  Protestantism,  con- 
fidant of  many  souls,  now  professor  of  scholastic 
philosophy  at  the  Catholic  Institute  of  Paris,  grand- 
son of  Jules  Favre:  "Every  attempt  to  escape  Catho- 
licism is  an  absurdity  and  a  sin  of  ingratitude,  for 
there  is  nothing  great,  nothing  beautiful  in  our  hearts 

which  does  not  come  from  Catholicism And 

just  as  science  was  founded  by  believers,  so  also  all 
that  is  noble  and  sublime  in  our  morality  comes  from 
that  same  grand  and  unique  source  of  Christianity, 
from  whose  abandonment  flow  false  morality  and 
false  science."    But  immediately  he  adds:  "Despite 


THE  *t  SIGN 


all  that  I  have  not  the  faith.  I  am,  if  I  dare  say  so 
absurd  a  thing,  a  Catholic  without  the  faith.  ...  I 
wonder  how  harshly  you  will  hold  me  to  account. 
It  seems  to  me  that  I  detest  just  those  whom  you 
detest,  and  love  those  whom  you  love ;  that  I  scarcely 
differ  from  you  except  in  that  grace  has  not  touched 
me.  Grace!  there  is  the  mystery  of  mysteries.  .  .  . 
Beyond  the  farthest  glow  of  the  horizon  I  can  feel 
the  presence  of  all  the  souls  of  the  apostles,  the 
virgins  and  the  martyrs,  with  the  unnumbered  army 
of  witnesses  and  confessors.  They  take  me  by 
storm;  by  main  force  they  carry  me  away  toward 
high  heaven,  and  with  my  whole  heart  I  long  for 
their  purity,  their  humility,  I  long  for  the  chastity 
which  girds  them  and  the  humility  that  crowns 
them,  I  long  for  their  grace  and  strength.  I  cannot 
hold  back.  Oh  my  God,  deign  to  look  upon  this 
misery  and  this  trust.  Have  pity  on  one  who  has 
been  sick  for  thirty  years." 

^^^HIS  was  written  early  in  August,  1912.  About 
^  J  two  months  later  a  great  illumination  came 
to  him.  "When  I  was  quitting  the  encamp- 
ment of  Agotin,  I  experienced  great  anguish  of  heart. 
An  entire  period  of  my  life  fell  away  abruptly  into 
the  past.  Behind  me  a  great  and  gloomy  crevasse 
opened.  A  dull  twilight  settled  down  upon  my  years 
of  misery." 

"But  at  the  same  time  the  light  of  dawn  was 
breaking,  a  dawn  of  youth  and  of  purity — and  in 
front  of  me  a  celestial  radiance  overspread  the 
horizon.  This  time  I  knew  whither  I  went.  I  was 
going  toward  Holy  Church,  catholic,  apostolic  and 
Roman,  I  was  going  towards  the  abode  of  peace  and 
of  blessing,  toward  joy,  health;  I  was  going,  alas! 
toward  my  healing.  And  then,  thinking  of  that  true 
Mother  who  for  years  had  awaited  me,  there,  across 
two  continents,  and  who  from  afar  stretched  forth 
her  arms  which  pardon  all.  I  wept  from  very  joy, 
from  love  and  gratitude.  .  .  .  Before  me  there  arose 
an  immense  and  majestic  temple,  founded  upon 
solid  rock,  a  temple  of  reason  and  of  divine  wisdom ; 
and  all  the  lines  of  this  temple  were  so  straight, 
so  pure  and  unified,  that,  before  it,  one  could  have 
no  other  wish  than  to  dwell  forever  within  its 
shadow,  far  away  from  the  illusions  and  shadows  of 
the  world  ..." 

At  the  end  of  1912  he  is  in  Paris  and  writes  to 
Maritain:  "I  know  now  that  nothing  is  so  good  as 
prayer,  for  invariably  I  begin  it  with  distaste  and 
yet  I  never  fail  to  conclude  it  with  joy  and  peace  of 


heart.  What  can  be  the  far-reaching  power  which 
these  words  have,  thus  to  work  upon  a  heart  so 
inaccessible  and  hard?" 

We  come  to  February  3,  1913  in  the  diary  of 
Mme.  Maritain,  herself  a  convert  from  Judaism. 
"Jacques  arrived  with  Ernest  about  eleven.  Pere 
Clerissac  toward  noon.  We  saw  that  they  took 
to  each  other  and  are  congenial.  Ernest  is  so  direct 
and  frank  with  the  Father.  Luncheon  full  of 
emotion.  After  luncheon  the  Father  led  Ernest  off 
to  the  park.  They  were  gone  for  two  hours  during 
which  time  we  did  not  cease  from  prayer.  Every- 
thing was  about  to  be  decided.  At  last  they  returned 
and  the  Father  put  before  us  the  program  arranged 
and  which  filled  us  with  joy:  Tomorrow  confession, 
then  confirmation  at  the  first  moment  possible,  and 
on  Sunday  first  Communion;  then,  in  thanksgiving,  a 
pilgrimage  to  Chartres.  Ernest  has  understood  the 
Father  completely  and  the  latter  could  find  no 
resistance  in  him,  'a  straightforward  soul  and  en- 
tirely filled  with  faith.'  " 

"Tuesday,  February  4th.  Toward  four  o'clock 
the  Father  and  Ernest  arrive.  Our  little  chapel  is 
all  decked;  the  candles  are  lighted,  two  fine  new 
candles,  blessed  on  Sunday." 

"Kneeling  before  the  statue  of  our  Lady  of 
Salette,  with  a  voice  strong  and  yet  greatly  moved, 
Ernest  Psichari  read  the  profession  of  faith  of  Pius 
IV  and  that  of  Pius  X.  The  Father  stands  erect, 
like  a  witness  before  God.  Jacques  and  I  listen  on 
our  knees,  trembling  with  emotion.  When  this 
reading  is  over  we  leave  and  the  confession  begins. 
While  it  lasts  we  pray  without  ceasing.  At  last, 
we  are  called,  and  we  find  Ernest  transformed, 
radiant  with  happiness.  It  is  an  hour  of  beatitude 
for  all.  'You  behold!  the  Father  tells  us,  'a  man 
who  belongs  entirely  to  God' ....  'Ah,  yes!  I  am 
happy,'  Ernest  cries,  and  it  is  not  hard  to  believe. . ." 

ON    the    following    day   he    received    his    first 
Communion  at  the  chapel  of  the  Sisters  of  the 
Holy  Infancy;  then  the  pilgrimage  to  Notre 
Dame  de  Chartres.     On  his  return  he  confides  to 
Pere  Clerrisac :  "I  feel  that  I  can  give  to  God  all  that 
He  may  demand." 

At  his  confirmation  he  took  the  name  Paul  in 
reparation  for  Renan's  attacks  on  St.  Paul.  He 
belonged  to  God  entirely.  He  received  Communion 
every  morning  and  daily  recited  the  office  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin.  His  whole  life  was  a  continuous 
prayer,  for  him  prayer  was  "the  normal  attitude  of 


THE  +  SIGN 


the  creature  who  desires  to  maintain  his  post 
beneath  his  Creator."  To  retain  his  post,  to  be  in 
his  place,  is  the  great  care  of  this  Christian  soldier. 
For  his  friends  it  was  a  marvel  to  see  him  thus 
enter  into  the  Christian  life  without  apprenticeship, 
without  transition,  as  though  he  had  been  a  Catholic 
always.  Said  Massis  :  "He  knows  all  without  having 
been  taught,  his  prayers  turn  out  to  be  the  same 
which  the  Church  has  poured  forth  throughout  the 
ages."  He  cries  out  in  the  intoxication  of  his  dis- 
coveries :  "My  Savior,  is  it  then  so  simple  to  love 
Thee!"  On  a  sudden  one  saw  him  in  that  gaiety  of 
heart  which  salvation  brings,  something  luminous 
in  his  eyes,  something  of  confidence  and  tenderness, 
which  bespoke  the  childlike  innocence  of  his  soul. 

nE  addresses  Pere  Clerissac :  "You  have  taught 
me,  my  dearly  beloved  Father,  that  there  is 
but  one  book  to  read — the  Cross.  May  I 
achieve  the  writing  of  that  book  within  me,  that  I 
may  make  amends  for  so  many  years  of  ignorance." 
"What  ought  I  to  do,"  he  writes  February  8, 
1914,  "and  what,  precisely,  is  it  that  God  wishes  of 
me  ?"  A  first  step  was  his  reception  into  the  Third 
Order  of  St.  Dominic  in  the  previous  September. 
With  the  secular  priesthood   in  view,  he  rejoiced 


fancying  himself  a  rural  cure  in  some  Breton  rectory 
taking  the  place  which  his  grandfather  should- have 
occupied.  To  make  expiation  for  him!  He  has 
been  told  that  at  the  very  moment  of  judgment  the 
soul  of  Renan  may  have  been  relieved  of  its  guilt 
through  the  prayer  of  some  Carmelite.  But  it  was 
the  religious  life  that  drew  him  and  the  following 
summer  he  fixed  his  choice  upon  the  Dominican 
Order.  God  prepared  another  immolation  for  him. 
The  war  broke  out.  He  left  on  the  second  day  of 
the  mobilization  declaring  to  his  director  at  Cher- 
bourg: "I  go  to  this  war  as  to  a  crusade,  for  I 
feel  that  the  two  great  causes  to  which  I  have 
dedicated  my  life  are  at  stake." 

Near  six  o'clock  on  the  evening  of  August 
22nd.  near  Neufchateau  in  Belgium,  after  having 
stood  for  twelve  hours  under  a  terrific  fire,  he  was 
killed  by  a  bullet  in  the  temple.  All  were  in  wonder 
at  the  calmness  which  fixed  itself  upon  his  face. 
He  had  been  able  to  seize  his  rosary  and  it  was 
wound  about  his  hands.  As  his  friend,  Jacques 
Maritain,  bears  witness,  "at  the  age  of  thirty,  having 
accomplished  all,  God  called  him  into  life  and  into 
glory,  in  a  holocaust  freely  consented  to  and  con- 
summated in  union  with  the  Sacrifice  of  the  Altar." 


La^-Retreats  in  the  Middle  West 


gMOST  healthful  sign  of  the  times,  as  gleaned 
from  Catholic  periodicals,  is  the  growing 
frequency  and  popularity  of  retreats  for  the 
laity.  These  retreats  are  conducted  in  the  buildings 
of  colleges  and  academies',  and  extend  usually  over 
the  week  end.  Of  necessity  they  are  limited  to  the 
summer  months  when  the  students  are  gone  to  their 
homes.  Societies  and  leagues  have  been  formed  to 
educate  the  Catholic  public  and  encourage  men  and 
women  to  make  an  annual  retreat.  These  retreats 
and  retreat  leagues  are  widespread  in  the  East,  and 
now  comes  the  summer  programme  of  The  Mission- 
ary Association  of  Catholic  Women,  with  central 
offices  in  Milwaukee,  Wisconsin,  exhibiting  a  true 


missionary  spirit,  as  the  animating  principal  of  the 
Association.  Besides  a  Missionary  Convention  in 
Sioux  City,  Iowa,  announcement  is  made  of  no  less 
than  thirteen  retreats  already  arranged,  with  others 
under  way,  covering  the  four  States  of  Indiana, 
Iowa,  Nebraska,  and  Wisconsin;  and  extending  from 
June  3d.  to  August  27th. 

Statistics  of  the  number  of  lay  retreatants  are 
not  available,  for  the  United  States,  but  if  the  figures 
given  for  Holland  for  1921  be  correct,  it  is  not 
likely  that  for  several  years  to  come  will  retreatants 
from  our  eighteen  million  Catholics  pass  the  250,000 
mark,  given  for  that  small  Non-Catholic  country  of 
Europe. 


Saints   and  Si 


inners 


Luis  Coloma,  S.  J. 
Copyrighted  1922,  by  The  Sign 


SYNOPSIS  OF  PREVIOUS  INSTALLMENTS: 

Curra,  Countess  of  Albornoz,  wife  of  the  Marquis  of  Villamelon,  is  an  intriguing  woman  of  society  in 
Madrid.  She  attempts  secretly  to  secure  a  remunerative  position  as  chief-lady-in-waiting  at  the  Spanish  court, 
to  ally  herself  with  King  Amadeo,  the  Italian  "usurper"  of  the  Spanish  throne  and  brother  of  King  Victor 
Emmanuel  of  Savoy.  Her  friends,  the  Duchess  of  Bara  and  others,  supporters  of  the  ex-Queen  Isabel  and  her 
son  Alfonso,  who  have  taken  refuge  in  Paris,  suspect  her  intrigue.  Curra  denies  her  part  in  the  transaction 
and  steals  an  incriminating  letter  written  to  the  Amadist  gavernment  by  her  husband  requesting  the  position  at 
King  Amadeo's  court,  from  one  of  the  King's  ministers,  Don  Martin.  Then  by  a  forged  letter  she  forces  the 
Amadist  police  to  raid  her  house  for  incriminating  documents.  The  result  of  this  antagonistic  raid  by  the 
Amadist  police  is  to  restore  complete  confidence  in  her  loyalty  to  the  party  of  the  ex-Queen.  She  habitually 
neglects  her  son  Luis  and  daughter  Lili,  as  well  as  her  husband,  and  involved  herself  in  intrigues  with  various 
men,  particularly  one  John  Velarde,  who  is  forced  by  Curra  to  fight  an  unnecessary  duel  to  defend  her  "honor" 
and  who  is  killed  in  so  doing. 

The  scene  then  shifts  to  Paris,  where  Spanish  refugees  are  gathering  after  the  Revolution  in  Spain  which 
has  overthown  Amadeo  and  established  a  temporary  Republic.  Jacob  Tellez,  a  cousin  of  Curra,  and  husband 
of  Elvira,  Marchioness  of  Sabadell,  whom  he  has  basely  deserted,  himself  a  libertine  and  politician  of  the  worst 
type,  ex-Ambassador  to  Constantinople,  from  which  city  he  has  been  forced  to  flee  after  a  vulgar  intrigue  with 
the  Cadi's  wife,  arrives  there.  Having  stopped  in  Italy  on  his  way  to  Paris,  Victor  Emmanuel  has  given  him 
important  Masonic  documents  to  carry  to  King  Amadeo.  In  desperate  want  of  money,  his  political  future 
jeopardized  by  the  Revolution  in  Spain,  Jacob  opens  and  steals  the  sealed  letters.  These  documents  place  in 
his  hands  formidable  weapons  with  which  to  attract  certain  influential  Spanish  politicians.  By  chance  "Uncle" 
Frasquito,  a  delapidated  Spanish  grandee,  finds  the  Masonic  seals  attached  to  the  documents  in  Jacob's  room. 
Jacob  rashly  presents  Frasquito  with  the  incriminating  seals  for  his  collection  of  diplomatic  seals.  Jacob  then 
decides  that  his  best  plan  to  secure  ready  money  is  to  become  reconciled  to  his  wife,  a  good  and  devout  woman, 
who  has  recently  won  a  lawsuit  and  considerable  wealth.  He  plans  to  do  this  through  the  agency  of  two  of 
his  wife's  friends,  Father  Cifuentes  and  the  Marchioness  of  Villasis.  Jacob  has  in  the  meantime  attracted  the 
favorable  attention  of  Curra,  who  wishes  him  to  take  the  place  of  her  dead  confidant,  John  Velarde. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 


aNCLE  Frasquito's  legs  had  begun  to  give 
way  under  him.    He  returned  to  the  hotel 
about  four  o'clock,  tired  and  discouraged 
because   he   had   been   unable   to    spread 
the  tale  of  Jacob's  intrigue  through  more  than  two- 
thirds  of  the  Spanish  colony  in  Paris. 

On  his  return  he  found  that  the  tragic  tale 
had  a  sequel ;  for  Jacob  came  to  him  again  to  request 
further  assistance.  Jacob  explained  that  the  night 
previous  he  had  tossed  from  one  side  of  his  bed 
to  the  other,  watching  the  pleasures  of  thirty-three 
years,  the  adventures  and  sins  thereof,  trail  past 
him,  and  that  he  had  finally  been  overcome  with 
repugnance  for  them  all. 

Uncle  Frasquito  listened  with  gaping  mouth. 
Then  Jacob  suddenly  abandoning  the  sentimental 
tone  of  his  peroration,  asked  him  in  plain  prose 
where  his  wife  Elvira  was  at  this  time.  Uncle 
Frasquito's  countenance  showed  disgust.  "Elvira?" 
h«  answered.  "I'm  sure  I  don't  know.  I  think  at 
Biarritz.  Lopez  Moreno's  wife  said  yesterday  that 
she  had  seen  her  there." 


Jacob  was  silent  and  distracted  for  a  moment, 
and  Uncle  Frasquito  hastened  to  add,  bursting  as 
he  was  with  curiosity:  "If  you  would  like  exact 
information,  I  know  someone  who  can  help  you." 

"Who?" 

"Father  Cifuentes." 

"What!     Do  you  know  Father  Cifuentes?" 

"Surely!  He  is  my  nephew.  He  is  the  son  of 
Tonito  Cifuentes — " 

"Is  he  also  at  Biarritz?" 

"No,  he  is  in  Paris — Rue  de  Sevres."  And 
then  with  an  air  of  slight  suspicion,  Uncle  Frasquito 
added:    "Do  you  wish  me  to  see  him?" 

"No:    I  wish  to  see  him  myself." 

Uncle  Frasquito  gave  a  violent  start:  was  this 
wolf  turning  over-night  into  a  lamb?  Or  was  the 
wolf  merely  posing  in  lamb's  clothing?  "I'll  take 
you  to  see  him  whenever  you  want." 

"To-morrow?" 

"Certainly!" 

Uncle  Frasquito,  always  cautious,  and  wishing 
to  show  Jacob  the  deficiencies  of  Father  Cifuentes' 


THE  1*  SIGN 


character,  explained  at  length  that  the  priest  was  a 
poor  unfortunate,  without  a  vestige  of  'good  form', 
who  spoke  of  hell  at  the  most  inopportune  moments, 
drawing  pictures  of  urgly  and  hideous  little  devils, 
who  didn't  resemble  in  the  slightest  the  perfumed 
and  exquisite  little  devils,  whom  Uncle  Frasquito 
pictured  in  evening  dress,  with  gardenias  in  their 
button-holes,  monocles  in  their  eyes,  and  red  ribbons 
on  the  tips  of  their  tails! 

"I  must  tell  you,"  he  continued  confidentially, 
"that  I  am  very  much  of  a  Catholic,  a  firm  believer; 
only  I  think  that  there  is  much  to  be  desired  as  far 
as  the  clergy  are  concerned.  Father  Cifuentes,  at 
the  funeral  of  General  Tercena  the  other  day,  said 
'good  morning'  to  me,  and  actually  tried  to  tell  me 
that  I  would  myself  die  some  day  or  other,  and 
that  I  must  prepare  myself  and  meditate  upon 
eternity.  Such  a  fellow!  Quite  upsetting,  and  even 
rude!  I  want  to  tell  you  this,  because  if  you  are 
planning  to  consult  him  about  anything,  or  going  to 
confession  to  him,  you  had — " 

"Confess?"  cried  Jacob  indignantly.  "What 
makes  you  think  that?" 

"But  you  said  you  wanted  to  talk  to  him." 

"Well,  isn't  this  Father  Cifuentes  the  director 
and  confessor  of  my  wife?" 

"Yes,  he  is." 

'Well,  what  I  want  him  to  do,  is  to  force  Elvira 
to  accede  to  my  wishes." 

"But  what  are  your  wishes,  Jacob?"  asked 
Uncle  Frasquito,  much  upset. 

"My  wishes  are  very  simple  ones  and  quite 
Christian — to  be  reunited  to  my  wife,  and  to  forget 
the  past." 

"Aaahhh!"  murmured  Uncle  Frasquito.  "But 
have  you  thought  this  matter  over  carefully?" 

"Why;  do  you  think  their  fulfillment  impossi- 
ble?" 

"No.  But  do  you  know  anything  about  the 
life  which  Elvira  now  leads?" 

"I  was  going  to  ask  you  that." 

aNCLE  Frasquito  made  a  wry  face,  and  an- 
swered hesitatingly:    "I'll  tell  you  about  it, 
Jacob.,    It's  a  public  affair  after  all.     But  I 
really  don't  know  whether  I  should  tell  you:" 

"Why  shouldn't  you,  Uncle  Frasquito?"  de- 
manded Jacob  angrily. 

"I  have  a  right  to  know,  and  if  you  are  really 
a  friend,  you  must  tell  me." 


"I'm  your  friend,  Jacob.  You  don't  doubt  me? 
But  there  are  some  things — " 

"What  things?    Speak  up,  man,  speak  up!" 

"Well,  Jacob,  you  see  your  wife  has  caused  a 
considerable  amount  of  gossip  everywhere." 

"Is  that  so!" 

"Yes,  I  don't  like  to  tell  you;  but  it's  true.  She 
is  completely  declassee.  She  has  been  practically 
ostracized  by  all  Madrid,  and  practically  her  only 
friend  is  Maria  Villasis,  a  woman  of  the  same  type. 
But  at  least  the  latter  spends  a  bit  of  money." 

"But  what  is  all  this?  What  actually  does 
Elvira  do?' 

"Frightful,  Jacob,  frightful!  From  the  moment 
she  separated  from  you,  she  has  disappeared  com- 
pletely; she  hasn't  been  at  a  dance,  at  the  opera; 
or  anywhere.  Carmen  Tagle  had  a  maid  who  had 
once  lived  with  her,  and  the  tales  she  told!  She  is 
always  running  after  the  servants,  because  to-day  is 
a  day  of  abstinence,  to-morrow  a  day  of  obligation. 
She  seems  to  be  impossible!  They  say  that  she 
sleeps  on  a  wooden  bench,  eats  nothing  but  bread 
and  water,  uses  instruments  of  penance."  Uncle 
Frasquito  stopped,  gasping  for  breath. 


V 


ACOB  listened  to  this  tale  tranquilly:  "Bah! 
If  that's  all,  I  can  soon  restore  her  to  her 
senses." 

Then  he  added:  "How  does  she  live?  Does 
she  spend  much?" 

"She  might  as  well  be  the  widow  of  a  poor 
government  official!  She's  emaciated,  she  who 
was  once  so  lovely  and  graceful.  I  saw  her  once  at 
Maria  Villasis'  place,  and  she  looked  positively 
slovenly.  I  have  never  seen  her  at  home.  I  called 
three  times  out  of  curiosity,  but  she  wouldn't  see 
me.  She  lives  in  a  small  apartment  in  an  undesir- 
able neighborhood." 

"She  must  be  rather  poor." 

"On  the  contrary,  she  is  wealthy.  Haven't 
you  heard  about  it?  She  won  her  lawsuit  with  the 
Monterrubios,  and  must  have  twenty  thousand 
dollars  income  a  year." 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,"  said  Jacob  regret- 
fully. 

"Sorry!     Really?" 

"Yes,  really  sorry.  For  since  she  will  be 
wealthier  than  I,  there  will  be  plenty  of  people  who 
will  say  I  went  back  to  her  for  financial  reasons." 

"Oh,  no,  no,  Jacob!  Nobody  would  even  think 
such  a  thing  of  you!" 


THE  +  SIGN 


"We'll  see.  But  the  important  thing  is,  that 
I  have  some  kind  of  understanding  with  Father 
Cifuentes." 

"If  you  want,  we'll  go  to  see  him  to-morrow." 

"Without  fail!" 

Uncle  Frasquito,  resigned  to  the  sudden  change 
in  his  friend,  arranged  the  hour  when  they  would 
visit  the  priest,  as  the  repentant  husband  was 
anxious  to  start  for  Biarritz  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment.  The  two  finally  parted,  Uncle 
Frasquito  running  off  to  dress  for  the  evening,  to 
be  prepared  for  that  nocturnal  round  of  visits  which 
he  would  have  to 
make  in  order  to 
spread  the  latest 
surprising  news  a- 
mong  his  friends 

Curra  had  spent 
the  afternoon  in  com- 
plete silence,  con- 
trolling the  anger 
which  burned  within 
her.  Jacob  had  fin- 
a  1 1 y  refused  to 
breakfast  with  her, 
on  some  frivilous 
pretext,  after  accept- 
ing her  invitation, 
and  she  had  dis- 
charged her  anger 
against  the  unfort- 
unate Villamelon.   A     .         

number     of     ladies 

and  gentlemen  were  gathered  together  in  the  draw- 
ing-room of  the  hotel,  in  which  Leopoldina  Pastor's 
voice  reverberated  harshly.  Uncle  Frasquito  ap- 
peared on  the  scene,  bubbling  over  with  the  latest 
news,  and  when  he  declared  that  the  hero  of  the 
most  recent  scandal  intended  to  start  for  Biarritz 
the  following  day,  if  possible,  neither  Curra  nor 
Diogenes  could  control  their  anger  further.  Diog- 
enes rose  from  his  seat  and  walked  over  to  Uncle 
Frasquito,  as  though  he  were  about  to  hit  him, 
while  Curra,  whose  anger  could  not  be  noticed  save 
for  a  slight  vibration  in  her  timid  voice,  began  to 
heap  scornful  remarks  upon  the  head  of  the  Marquis 
of  Sabadell,  to  the  intense  astonishment  of  her 
husband,  who  still  clung  to  the  memory  of  the 
little  homily  on  family  love  to  which  he  had  listened 
that  morning. 


c? 


Peace 

Sister  Mary  Benvenuta,  0.  P. 

A  single  cKord  from  some  great  harmony, 

The  v'oice  of  bird's  tkat  wake  to  love  in  Spring, 
Or  some  old,  simple  song  tkat  children  sing, 

Comes  fraugkt  witk  stillness,  seeming  verily" 
A  skining  featker  fallen  from  ker  wing. 

Tke  stars  in  far,    untroubled  spaces  glow, 

Like  countless  candles  ligkted  at  ker  skrine, 
To  tired,  mortal  eyes  ker  gracious  sign 
Tkat  men  w'ko  nave  not  found  ker  >>et  may"  know 
Peace  dwells  eternal,  infinite,  divine, 


HE  ladies  echoed  Curra's  scorn,  agreeing  that 
the  Marchioness  of  Sabadell  was  a  hypocrite, 
a  bad  wife,  who  spent  the  last  ten  years  in 
the  company  of  only  priests  and  acolytes,  and  who 
now  wished  to  darken  the  life  of  the  unfortunate 
Jacob  by  putting  him  under  the  tutelage  of  Father 
Cifuentes.  It  was  really  a  question  of  conscience 
with  all  present  to  tear  the  mask  off  the  hypocrite, 
and  to  warn  the  unthinking  husband  of  the  plot 
that  was  being  carried  out  against  him. 

Diogenes,  half  way  to  Uncle  Frasquito,  decided 
not  to  strike  him,  but  turned  on  the  ladies  instead, 
and  attacked  that 
feminine  host,  say- 
ing that  whoever 
said  'woman'  said 
'devil',  for  the  fe- 
male race  was  of 
such  an  evil  breed 
that  every  insect, 
even  the  chinces 
Polaina! — were  fe- 
male. 

Everybody 
laughed  at  Diogenes' 
fury,  and  he,  to  an- 
noy them  further, 
insisted  that  God 
nad  not  made  Mother 
Eve  out  of  Adams' 
rib,  but  out  of  the 
tail  of  a  monkey; 
for  according  to  the 
Andalusian  story,  although  He  intended  to  do  the 
former,  and  had  the  rib  in  His  hand  ready  for  use, 
a  monkey,  who  had  been  watching  him  carefully, 
suddenly  grabbed  the  rib  and  ran  away  to  hide  it 
in  his  den.  The  Lord  pursued  him,  and  caught 
him  by  the  tail,  but  the  monkey  tugged  so  hard 
that  he  left  his  tail  in  the  Lord's  hands,  Who 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  said:  "One  thing  is 
just  as  good  as  another  for  what  I  intend  to  do." 
And  from  this  appendage  was  created  the  mother 
of  the  race. 

The  ladies  protested  violently  against  Diogenes' 
fable.  While  their  protests  were  being  made,  Curra 
leaned  over  to  her  husband  and  whispered:  "Listen, 
Ferdinand.  I  think  that  you  had  better  see  Jacob 
and  invite  him  to  dinner.  Tell  him  that  I  must  see 
him  without  fail,  as  I  have  something  of  interest 
to  him  to  tell  him." 


THE  1*  SIGN 


BT  that  moment  the  arrival  of  the  mail  was 
announced,  and  Diogenes  took  advantage  of 
the  confusion  that  ensued  to  seize  Uncle 
Frasquito  firmly  by  the  arm  and  drag  him  apart 
from  the  others.  Uncle  Frasquito  was  terrified  at 
finding  himself  in  Diogenes'  clutches,  and  sought 
to  propitiate  him  by  offering  him  a  cigar  and  calling 
him  affectionate  names.  But  Diogenes  fixed  him 
with  his  red  eyes  as  a  snake  does  an  unwary  bird, 
and  imperiously  demanded  to  know  whether  he  was 
working  in  league  with  Jacob. 

He  in  league  with  Jacob!  Of  course  not! 
Jacob  had  asked  him  for  a  card  of  introduction  to 
Father  Cifuntes,  and  he  had  given  him  that  to  get 
rid  of  him  and  his  annoying  advances.  But  did 
Diogenes  think  that  he  was  leaguing  himself  with 
the  fellow,  and  mixing  himself  up  in  his  sordid 
intrigues  ? 

Diogenes  suddenly  released  his  hold,  and  asked: 
"When  does  Jacob  start  for  Biarritz?" 

"To-morrow  night."  And  added  ingratiatingly: 
"Of  course,  Jacob  is  attracted  by  the  Monterrubios 
millions  which  Elvira  is  now  enjoying.  What  will 
she  do  ?  I  can't  imagine  that  saintly  woman  starting 
life  again  with  that  Pontius  Pilate!" 

Diogenes  turned  his  back  on  him,  and  Uncle 
Frasquito,  delighted  at  finding  himself  free,  at  the 
trifling  sacrifice  of  betraying  his  friend,  rushed  off 
to  tell  Curra  that  Diogenes  was  taking  the  Marchion- 
ess of  Sabadell's  part,  and  to  deplore  the  fact  that 
the  police  did  not  see  their  way  to  preventing  that 
terrible  old  man's  attacks  on  him. 

Diogenes  left  the  company,  and  entering  an 
adjoining  writing-room,  seized  pen  and  paper  and 
began  the  following  letter : 

"My  dear  Maria:" 

Here  he  stopped,  and  after  scratching  his 
nose  thoughtfully,  continued: 

"To-morrow  that  Cain  of  a  Jacob  Tellez,  is 
starting  for  Biarritz  and  intends  to  try  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  his  unfortunate  wife,  Elvira.  He  has 
escaped  from  Constantinople,  where  he  has  com- 
mitted I  know  not  what  crimes,  and  has  apparently 
found  out  that  Elvira  has  some  money,  and  now 
wants  to  save  her  the  trouble  of  spending  it.  He 
will  have  an  interview  with  Father  Cifuentes  be- 
fore leaving.  I  am  writing  you  this  news  so  that 
you  can  do  something  for  that  poor  woman,  who  is 
quite  capable  of  handing  herself  over  to  the  mercies 
of  her  husband,  if  there  is  no  one  to  advise  her. 
If  I  can  help  in  any  way,  even  to  breaking  Jacob's 


neck,  let  me  know  and  I  will  come.  I  am  still 
journeying  with  my  sixty-two  years  on  my  back 
to  the  hospital  bed  which  you  have  always 
prophecied  for  me.  I  wonder  if  I  shall  arrive  there 
before  I  am  sixty-three? 

Diogenes. 
P.  S.    A  kiss  for  Monica. 

Here  he  stopped  again,  shaking  his  head  slowly, 
while  his  face  assumed  an  expression  of  tenderness 
and  sorrow. 

Little  Monica,  a  lovely  little  girl  of  four  years 
and  the  darling  of  his  heart,  used  to  pull  his  whiskers 
and  make  him  walk  on  his  hands  and  knees,  pulling 
him  by  an  ear  But  one  day  she  had  refused  to 
kiss  his  alcoholic  lips,  saying  with  infantile  repug- 
nance:  "No:   you  smell  bad." 

And  the  cynical  Diogenes,  who  sneered  at  the 
virtues  of  the  virtuous  and  boasted  of  his  gaities 
in  the  most  indecent  places,  had  felt  ashamed  be- 
fore the  little  girl's  repugnance.  His  face  had  grown 
red  and  his  eyes  suffused  with  tears.  For  three 
days  he  had  not  touched  a  drop  of  liquor;  but  on 
the  fourth  he  had  again  surrendered,  though  he  had 
never  atempted  to  kiss  the  child  since.  And  even 
now,  at  a  great  distance  from  the  little  girl,  he  felt 
guilty  at  writing  the  word  "kiss"  in  the  postscript, 
and  blotted  it  out,  writing  instead;  "Tell  Monica 
that  I  will  bring  her  a  doll  which  says  'papa'  and 
'mamma'." 

Then  he  addressed  the  envelope  to: — 
Mme.  la  Marquise  de  Villasis, 
Villa   Maria, 
Biarritz 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

M^^^HE  whim  of  a  Queen  created  in  a  short 
M  ^\  time,  out  of  a  tiny  forgotten  village  one 
^^^^  of  the  best  known  centers  of  fashion.  The 
Empress  Eugenie  built  in  Biarritz  the 
Villa  Eugenie,  and  Biarritz  rose  to  the  rank  r.f 
Trouville,  Dieppe  and  Etretat.  The  Spaniards  live 
there  in  summer,  the  Russians  in  the  autumn,  and 
the  English  in  the  winter,  as  though  they  wished 
in  turn  to  enjoy  its  charms  and  beauties.  Villas 
and  palaces  arose,  and  speculative  hotels  and 
casinos.  Piety  alone  remained  with  folded  hands. 
Churches  were  at  a  discount  in  Biarritz. 

On  the  road  to  Biarritz  nestles  a  lovely  villa 


THE  f  SIGN 


in  a  small  park,  on  the  large  iron  gates  of  which  is 
inscribed  "Villa  Maria."  Within  the  villa,  in  a  small 
room,  two  ladies  sat  by  the  fireplace  and  talked, 
as  the  clock  struck  the  hour  of  eleven.  One  was 
crying  silently,  and  the  other  was  trying  to  console 
her.  The  latter  was  around  forty  years  of  age,  her 
abundant  white  hair  bound  with  a  simple  shell- 
comb  ;  her  embroidered  gown  with  its  rich  trimmings 
did  not  lend  charm  to  her  person,  but  seemed  on  the 
contrary  to  receive  from  the  noble  figure  of  the 
lady  its  severe  elegance  and  graceful  lines.  She 
was  dark  of  complexion,  her  features  far  from 
perfect,  her  beauty  rather  moral  than  physical. 
The  other  lady  was  younger,  but  manifestly  in  poor 
health  and  depressed.  Her  face  was  pale  and  oval, 
and  her  eyes  and  mouth  expressed  a  mingled 
sweetness  and  sadness.  The  former  were  large  and 
blue,  filled  with  a  vague  exaltation,  as  is  that  of 
grief  sustained  by  hope;  the  latter  was  pale  and 
drawn  at  the  corners,  indicating  habitual  suffering, 
which  is  the  primary  sign  in  those  who  are  hopeless 
invalids  and  doomed  to  death.  She  wore  a  dark 
hat  without  a  veil,  a  cloak  of  fur,  and  a  small  muff 
of  otter  skin,  in  which  she  hid  her  gloved  hands. 

This  was  the  Marchioness  of  Sabadell,  and 
the  other  was  her  friend  Maria  Villasis,  in  whose 
house  she  was  sitting.  That  morning  the  mail  had 
brought  important  news,  for  the  Marchioness  of 
Villasis  had  received  a  letter  from  Diogenes  and 
another  long  letter  from  Father  Cifuentes.  The 
Marchioness  of  Sabadell  had  also  received  a  letter 
on  her  return  from  Mass,  a  letter  which  had  shaken 
whatever  sensitiveness  still  lurked  in  her  heart;  for 
the  moment  the  unhappy  lady  had  thought  that 
she  was  going  to  faint. 

It  had  been  ten  years  since  she  had  last  seen 
Jacob's  writing.  Glancing  at  the  envelope,  a 
mysterious  intuition  had  given  her  a  certainty  of 
the  authorship  of  the  letter.  She  had  entered  her 
bedroom,  her  brain  reeling,  had  drunk  a  glass  of 
water,  and  fallen  into  an  armchair,  staring  at  the 
letter  in  her  hand,  hardly  daring  to  open  it. 

^^^HE  past  swept  through  her  mind.  Her  few 
^  J  days  of  happiness  passed  before  her,  those 
days  when  she  thought  herself  perfectly 
happy  in  her  mad  love  for  her  husband.  She  had 
forgotten  God  in  her  happiness;  and  this  had  been 
her  one  fault,  the  fault  of  an  ungrateful  child. 
She  realized  that  perfectly  now,  and  how  dearly 
was  she  expiating  it! 


Small  infidelities  and  disenchantments  had  first 
occurred,  which,  however,  had  not  succeeded  in 
overthrowing  the  idol  in  her  heart,  and  which  she 
had  easily  pardoned.  Then  had  come  worse  in- 
fidelities, and  at  last  the  discovery  of  horrible 
vices.  Her  idol  became  a  monster,  a  corrupt  mass 
of  evil  inclinations,  of  vile  habits,  of  indomitable 
passions.  She  had  tried  to  tear  his  very  image 
from  her  hear.t,  but  her  soul  still  held  to  him,  cling- 
ing to  the  idol  which  always  lived  within  her,  even 
amid  shame  and  sorrow. 

And  then,  after  all  these  years,  this  letter 
aroused  all  those  memories  of  crushing  sorrows, 
incredible  offences,  and  black  sins.  The  unfortunate 
woman  feared  for  herself,  as  she  felt  the  love  for 
her  husband  rising  once  more  in  her  heart,  still 
alive  and  vital,  living  without  hope,  yet  as  immortal 
as  the  very  soul  itself.  She  wept  bitterly.  Thoughts 
of  her  son  came  to  her,  whom  she  had  defended  for 
so  long  against  his  own  father;  and  she  was  afraid 
that  this  weakness  of  hers  would  force  her  to  com- 
promise with  the  temptation  which  engulfed  her. 

At  the  end  of  the  room  hung  a  beautiful 
picture  of  the  Holy  Family,  over  a  small  prie-dieu, 
and  on  this  the  Marchioness  sank,  to  read  her 
letter  at  the  Virgin's  feet.  Jacob  brusquely  informed 
his  wife  that  he  was  on  his  way  to  visit  her  to 
talk  over  some  important  business  matters ;  his  visit 
had  met  with  the  approval  of  Father  Cifuentes,  an 
excellent  priest  whom  he  had  met  in  Paris.  The 
Marchioness  thought  that  she  had  not  correctly  under- 
stood this  last  statement,  and  read  it  over  and  over 
again.  She  had  never  observed  the  vice  of  hypo- 
crisy in  Jacob;  yet  this  letter  was  either  redolent 
with  it,  or  else  God  had  worked  in  him  one  of  His 
miracles.  Was  it  possible  that  that  heart,  frozen 
in  its  cold  egotism,  had  been  thawed  by  the  in- 
fluence of  Father  Cifuentes?  It  seemed  absurd, 
yet  it  was  possible;  she  had  prayed  for  this  every 
day  of  her  life  for  twelve  years;  and  God  was  so 
good,  so  kind,  so  fatherly! 

The  Marchioness  smothered  the  voice  in  her 
soul  which  cried  out  that  this  was  but  some  villain- 
ous farce,  in  order  to  admit  a  ray  of  hope  into  her 
heart,  which  would  dissipate  the  shadows  of  her 
sorrow.  Without  thought  of  breakfast,  Elvira 
hurried  to  her  friend's  house,  deluding  herself  with 
the  idea  of  seeking  counsel  from  the  clear  under- 
standing of  the  Marchioness  of  Villasis;  yet  really 
seeking  but  a  confirmation  of  her  own  hopes. 


30 


THE  f  SIGN 


^^^HE  Marchioness  of  Villasis  knew  what  to  do, 
V_J  for  Father  Cifuentes  had  written  a  full  ac- 
count of  his  meeting  with  Jacob.  The  latter 
had  come  to  see  him,  hiding  as  best  he  could  his 
suspicions.  But  on  seeing  the  insignificant  little 
man,  plain  and  even  careless  of  speech,  with  his 
hands  ever  hidden  in  his  sleeves,  his  fear  and 
suspiciousness  had  turned  to  contempt,  and  with  that 
disdain  with  which  the  proud  address  the  humble, 
he  had  informed  him  of  his  desire  to  be  reunited 
to  his  wife,  and  to  forget  the  past,  expressing  the 
wish  that  the  priest  himself  would  urge  his  wife 
to  accede  to  his  request. 

The  Jesuit's  hands  receded  further  into  his 
sleeves,  and  he  expressed  the  opinion  that  nothing 
was  more  in  accordance  with  Christian  principles 
than  family  peace  and  forgiveness  of  injuries.  But 
as  for  advising  her  Ladyship  the  Marchioness  to 
accede  to  the  request  of  his  Lordship  the  Marquis, 
his  Lordship  must  bear  in  mind  that  her  Ladyship 
had  not  consulted  him  about  the  matter,  and  it  was 
necessary  that  he  be  asked  for  advice  before  he 
gave  it. 

Jacob  was  about  to  reply,  when  Father  Cifuentes 
added  that  he  understood  that  the  Marchioness 
of  Sabadell  was  about  to  leave  Biarritz,  and  that  in 
case  he  did  not  find  her  there,  it  might  be  prudent 
of  his  Lordship  to  see  the  Marchioness  of  Villasis, 
a  great  friend  of  his,  intelligent  and  virtuous,  to 
whom  he  would  give  him  a  letter  of  introduction, 
requesting  her  to  interest  herself  in  the  matter. 

Uncle  Frasquito,  who,  out  of  curiosity,  had 
made  himself  a  witness  of  this  interview,  entered 
the  conversation  to  say  that  this  was  a  splendid 
idea,  and  that  the  best  thing  Jacob  could  do,  would 
be  to  interview  the  Marchioness  of  Villasis  as  soon 
as  possible;  for  what  she  could  not  get  out  of  his 
wife  no  one  else  in  the  world  could. 

Jacob  pondered  the  idea,  and  at  last  decided 
to  write  direct  to  his  wife,  in  order  to  postpone 
her  departure  by  news  of  his  arrival,  accepted  the 
letter  of  introduction  to  the  Marchioness  of  Villasis, 
and  took  leave  of  Father  Cifuentes.  During  the 
conversation  he  had  with  great  pains  refused  to  call 
him  Father,  addressing  him  as  Senor  Cifuentes. 

Senor  Cifuentes  accompanied  the  pair  to  the 
door,  his  hands  still  in  his  sleeves,  and  upon  seeing 
them  depart  in  a  carriage  murmured:  "What  an 
exact  allegory  of  the  world !  Folly  in  league  with 
vice!" 


HATHER  Cifuentes  immediately  wrote  a  letter 
to  the  Marchioness  of  Villasis,  explaining 
Jacob's  plans,  and  requesting  her  to  prevent 
Jacob  meeting  Elvira  at  all  costs,  so  that  he  might 
not  deceive  her  again,  and  also  advising  her  to 
get  rid  of,  and  forever,  by  some  feminine  ingenuity, 
this  worthless  husband,  who  now  wished  to  despoil 
his  unfortunate  wife,  and  also  injure  his  innocent 
son.  The  Marchioness  of  Villasis  was  careful  not 
to  tell  Elvira  all  this,  but  little  by  little  began  to 
undeceive  the  unfortunate  woman.  She  read  the 
letter  which  Elvira  handed  her  without  a  word,  and 
returned  it  to  her.  The  latter  questioned  her  tear- 
fully, and  the  Marchioness  of  Villasis  then  replied, 
shaking  her  head  sadly:'  "I  wouldn't  believe  him 
under  oath!" 

Elvira  lowered  her  head,  crushed  by  words 
which  destroyed  that  castle  of  hope  which  she 
had  built  in  the  depths  of  her  heart:  "I  have  prayed 
so  hard!     I  have  wept  so  much!" 

"That  is  true.  But  he  has  lied  again  and  again, 
and  has  gone  too  far!" 

"God  can  perform  a  miracle." 

"And  man  can  make  it  useless." 

"I  hope  not." 

"I  am  afraid  that  it  is  so." 

"How  do  you  know?" 

"But  what  reasons  have  you  to  think  as  you 
do,  Elvira?" 

Elvira  wept  bitterly  without  answering.  The 
Marchioness  of  Villasis  caught  her  to  her  breast, 
and  kissed  her  forehead,  whispering  softly  to  her 
as  one  does  to  an  unhappy  child.  She,  still  weeping, 
moaned:  "But  what  shall  I  do?    What  shall  I  do?" 

"Leave  Biarritz." 

"Where  shall  I  go?" 

"To  Lourdes,  to  stay  with  Our  Lady  until  the 
storm  is  over." 

"But  he  will  come  after  me!" 

"He  will  not;  I  shall  stop  him." 

"But  if  it  should  prove  true,  Maria?"  Elvira 
cried,  still  holding  fast  to  her  hope.  "What  if 
his  repentence  is  sincere,  and  the  unfortunate  man 
finds  the  door  closed  on  him?" 

"I  shall  find  that  out,  and  will  myself  bring  him 
to  Lourdes.  All  three  of  us  will  follow  you,  your 
husband,  your  son,  and  myself." 

"Ah!  Little  Alfonso !  Child  of  my  heart!  What 
shall  I  do  with  him?    Shall  I  take  him  with  me?" 

"No!    Let  him  stay  at  the  College." 

"No!     No!     I  cannot  do  that,  "cried  Elvira. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


"What  if  his  father  should  find  there,  and  take  him 
away  with  him?  It  would  kill  me!  It  would  kill 
me!" 

Terrified  by  the  thought,  the  poor  lady  nearly 
fainted  again.  The  Marchioness  forced  her  to  drink 
a  cup  of  bouillon  and  gradually  succeeded  in  quiet- 
ing her.  They  then  arranged  their  plans.  Elvira 
was  to  leave  that  very  evening  for  Lourdes,  taking 
Mile.  Carmagnac,  a  most  worthy  woman  and 
governess  of  little  Monica,  with  her.  The 
Marchioness  of  Villasis  then  dictated  a  letter  for 
Elvira,  which  would  be  given  to  Jacob  when  he 
arrived,  and  in  which  Elvira  said  that  urgent  business 
prevented  her  waiting  for  him  in  Biarritz,  but  that 
the  Marchioness  of  Villasis  had  full  powers  to  come 
to  any  business  arrangements  that  were  necessary 
with  him,  Elvira  agreeing  in  advance  to  whatever 
decisions  they  arrived  at. 

^^^HE  two  ladies  breakfasted  together,  Elvira 
^/^  leaving  with  her  friend  such  papers  as  the 
Marchioness  of  Villasis  needed  for  the  inter- 
view with  Jacob.  They  then  left  for  Guichon,  a 
small  town  near  Biarritz,  where  the  Jesuits,  after 
their  expulsion  from  Spain  by  the  Revolution,  had 
opened  the  College  which  the  little  Alfonso  Tellez 
was  attending. 

Elvira  bade  farewell  to  her  son,  without  telling 
him  where  she  was  going,  and  the  rector  of  the 
college,  who  was  acquainted  with  the  lady's  affairs, 


was  told  to  allow  no  one  to  see  the  boy  during  his 
mother's  absence,  with  the  exception  of  the 
Marchioness  of  Villasis.  The  latter  took  leave  ot 
Elvira  at  the  station,  and  returned  to  the  Villa 
Maria,  sad  and  thoughtful.  She  shut  herself  in 
her  room,  and  passed  the  greater  part  of  the  night 
glancing  through  Elvira's  papers.  The  next  morn- 
ing she  went  to  the  chapel  of  St.  Eugene,  where  she 
heard  two  Masses  and  received  Holy  Communion. 

The  day  was  beautiful,  and  suggested  the 
coming  ot  spring.  At  three  that  afternoon  the 
Marchioness  ordered  all  the  windows  opened,  that 
the  sun  and  air  might  pour  into  the  house.  In  the 
garden,  little  Monica's  cries,  while  skipping  rope, 
merged  with  the  breaking  of  the  sea  against  the 
coast.  The  Marchioness  leaned  out  of  the  window 
and  watched  the  child  at  play.  This  little  girl  was 
her  grandchild,  the  only  daughter  of  her  own  child, 
who  had  died  five  years  before,  and  whose  father's 
death  had  left  her  doubly  an  orphan. 

The  Marchioness  suddenly  closed  the  window 
and  seated  herself  at  a  small  desk  nearby.  A 
carriage  could  be  heard  in  the  distance,  and  a  few 
minutes  afterwards  a  servant  entered  to  announce 
the  Marquis  of  Sabadell.  The  servant  had  no  sooner 
left  the  room  than  the  Marchioness  crossed  herself, 
glanced  for  a  brief  moment  at  the  picture  of  the 
Virgin,  and  then  turned  toward  the  door,  smiling 
and  as  serene  as  when  she  received  her  friends  at 
her  house  in  Madrid. 


(To  be  continued) 


Catkolic  Schools  and   Colleges  for  Catholics 


DO  subject  of  greater  importance  or  of  more 
lasting  consequences  can  occupy  the  minds 
of  Catholic  Parents  and  guardians  at  this 
time,  than  the  selection  of  the  proper  School  or 
College  for  those  entrusted  to  their  care.  For 
Catholics  there  is  one  prime  requisite  to  be  looked 
for  in  the  selection  of  a  school.  The  fostering  of 
the  religious  nature  of  the  young.  Where  a  Catholic 
School  or  Academy  or  College  is  possible,  no  other 
can  be  equally  good.  For  many  Professional  men 
and  women,  attendance  at  a  non-sectarian  institu- 


tion has  been  their  spiritual  undoing.  They  had 
faith  they  had  religion  when  they  began  their  studies, 
but  the  flippant  remarks  about  religion  blasted  and 
blighted  in  them  the  rare  and  fair  flower  of  religion. 
It  is  rash  to  presume  on  the  strength  of  faith  in  your 
son  or  your  daughter,  and  no  advantage  can  com- 
pensate them  or  justify  you,  if  it  be  lost,  for  the 
Good  Master  says : — "What  will  it  profit  you  if  you 
gain  the  whole  world,  but  suffer  the  loss  of  your 
own  soul." 


32 


What   Do   You   Know   About: 


Vocations? 


XN  the  April  number  of  THE  SIGN  the 
subject  of  vocations  was  treated  at  some 
length,  and  emphasis  was  laid  on  the  seri- 
ous nature  of  the  subject,  and  one  of  the 
very  common  errors  pointed  out,  regarding  the 
vocation  to  the  state  of  marriage.  In  this  install- 
ment it  is  hoped  to  state  clearly,  the  other  error 
that  is  quite  common,  and  not  less  productive  of 
lasting  evils. 

Practically  speaking,  we  may  say  there  are 
four  states  in  life.  The  unmarried  state,  the  married 
state,  the  religious  state,  and  the  state  of  holy 
orders,  or  of  the  priesthood. 

The  single  or  unmarried  state  is  that  in  which 
a  man  or  woman  chooses  to  remain  for  one  or  several 
of  a  variety  of  reasons.  Some  have  no  inclination 
or  a  positive  repugnance  for  any  other  state.  Others 
on  account  of  health  or  other  physical  cause  are 
unable  to  fulfill  the  obligations  of  any  other  state. 
And  a  very  large  number  have  sacrificed  all  hope 
of  entering  any  other  state  to  give  care  and  comfort 
to  aged  parents,  or  a  sheltering  home  to  orphaned 
brothers  and  sisters. 

The  married  state  is  that  in  which  a  man  and 
woman  enter  by  means  of  the  sacrament  of  Matri- 
mony. They  solemnly  engage  before  God's  altar 
to  live  together  in  love  and  harmony,  and  to  bring 
forth  and  rear  the  children  whom  God  will  entrust 
to  them,  and  thus  fulfill  God's  command,  "increase 
and  multiply  and  fill  the  earth."  It  is  their  sublime 
privilege  not  only  to  people  the  earth,  to  raise  up 
children  for  the  Church,  God's  Kingdom  on  earth, 
but  to  lead  forth  from  Christian  homes,  recruits  for 
the  Priesthood  and  for  the  religious  life  both  in 
monastery  and  convent. 

By  the  religious  life  is  understood  that  state  in 
which  a  man  or  a  woman  binds  himself  or  herself 
to  God  by  the  vows  of  religion  to  strive  after  intimate 
love  and  friendship  for  God.  This  is  the  essential 
purpose  of  the  religious  state.  There  are  accidental 
differences,  peculiar  to  each  order,  such  as  the  strict 
enclosure  in  cloistered  orders,  and  the  various  chari- 
ties that  engage  others,  preaching,  teaching,  caring 
for  the  aged,  sick,  wayward  and  orphans  in  homes 
or  institutions. 

Lastly  there  is  the  state  of  holy  orders  or  that 
of  the  holy  priesthood,  in  which  a  man  is  associated 
with  Jesus   Christ   the   Supreme   High    Priest   and 


shares  in  His  priesthood  for  God's  Glory  and  the 
salvation  of  human  souls.  He  accomplishes  the 
sublime  purposes  of  his  holy  calling  by  his  power 
over  the  real  body  of  Christ,  in  celebrating  Holy 
Mass.;  over  the  mystical  body  of  Christ,  the  faith- 
ful of  Holy  Church,  by  the  ministry  of  the  word, 
and  by  administering  the  sacraments. 

Having  premised  this  short  account  of  the 
various  states  in  life,  we  may  now  procede  to  state, 
what  is  the  second  error  concerning  vocation.  And 
this  error  consists  in  not  knowing  what  is,  in  the 
judgement  of  the  Church,  a  vocation.  Many  who 
desire  to  enter  the  priesthood  or  the  religious  life, 
are  at  a  loss  to  know  whether  they  have  a  call  from 
God  to  this  state  in  life.  They  have  read  somewhere 
or  heard  it  said,  that  no  one  should  aspire  to  the 
higher  life,  without  a  special  vocation.  God  must 
call  them  to  it.  This  call,  it  is  quite  generally  be- 
lieved, is  nothing  else  than  the  subjective  feeling 
that  God  wants  them  to  be  a  priest  ,  or  a  religious, 
or  at  least  a  certain  attraction  for  the  priesthood  or 
the  religious  state.  This  subjective  feeling  or  at- 
traction is  regarded  as  the  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
In  consequence  of  this  belief  it  follows  that  no  one 
dare  enter  the  seminary  or  monastery  or  convent, 
unless  or  until  they  realize  this  interior  disposition 
above  referred  to,  and  on  the  other  hand  it  is  wrong 
and  hazardous  to  resist  such  an  attraction  or  feeling, 
because  it  is  resisting  the  voice  and  working  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  in  the  soul. 

There  is  many  a  young  man  and  many  a  young 
woman,  who  has  been  harassed  by  a  thousand  doubts 
because  they  are  anxious  to  know  what  is  their 
vocation  in  life?  Some  esteemed  and  dear  friend 
has  gone  to  the  seminary  or  to  the  convent,  or  the 
confessor  has  asked  them  what  their  intentions  are 
concerning  the  future,  and  remembering  this  false 
notion  about  vocation,  they  are  at  a  loss  for  an 
answer. 

There  exists  no  uncertainty  in  the  answer  to 
the  question:  "What  is  a  Vocation?  The  Church 
has  explicity  answered  the  question  concerning  the 
call  to  the  priesthood,  and  by  implication  supplies 
the  answer  concerning  the  call  to  the  monastery  or 
convent.  That  the  above  notion  is  not  the  correct 
answer  to  the  question  is  beyond  all  question.  It  is 
utterly  false  and  ruinous,  as  we  shall  show  in  the 
next  issue  of  THE  SIGN. 


33 


Archconfraternit??  of 


The  Heart  of 

OEVOUT  Catholics  throughout  the  world 
consecrate  the  month  of  June  to  the  honor 
of  the  Sacred  Heart  of  Jesus.  They  strive 
to  give  more  than  usual  attention  to  piety 
and  good  works,  which  may  in  some  measure  express 
their  appreciation  of  Our  Divine  Lord's  love  for 
men.  They  know  also  that  several  Popes  have 
granted  rich  and  numerous  blessings  to  all  who  thus 
give  the  month  to  Christ. 

The  members  of  the  Archcon- 
fraternity  of  the  Passion  should 
regard  the  month  of  June  as  a 
golden  opportunity  to  understand 
more  of  Our  Lord's  sufferings,  and 
likewise  to  inflame  their  zeal  to 
promote  this  devotion  in  the  hearts 
of  others.  To  behold  the  Heart 
of  Jesus  is  to  see  the  signs  of  His 
Passion;  to  be  truly  devoted  to  the 
Sacred  Heart  means  a  knowledge 
of  His  Sorrows  and  Sufferings. 
From  Our  Lord's  own  words  and 
actions  while  on  earth,  as  well  as 
from  the  teaching  of  His  disciples 
and  the  saints,  it  will  be  seen  the 
Sacred  Passion  and  the  Sacred 
Heart  are  so  intimately  united  that 
devotion  to  one  means  at  the  same 
time  devotion  to  the  other. 

The  Apostles  accompanied  the  Divine  Master 
from  place  to  place.  They  heard  His  preaching  to 
the  people.  They  witnessed  His  gentleness  and 
kindness  to  the  poor  and  afflicted.  They  marvelled 
at  the  many  ways  He  sought  out  and  converted 
sinners.  Still  it  might  be  said  they  knew  little  of 
His  Sacred  Heart.  For  they  understood  at  that 
time  nothing  of  His  Passion  and  Death. 

Our  Divine  Savior  revealed  His  Sacred  Heart 
to  men  as  often  as  He  foretold  to  them  His  Sacred 
iassion.  The  Redemption  of  mankind  was  the  one 
mystery  Jesus  most  desired  to  accomplish.  His 
sufferings  and  His  death  were  to  be  the  fullest 
revelation  of  His  Infinite  Love  for  men.  Therefore 
He  yearned  for  "the  hour,"  when  He  would  "lay 
down  His  life  for  His  friends." 


trie   Sacred    P 


assion 


Jesus  Crucified 

J^OWARDS  the  end  of  His  life,  Jesus  publicly 

V/J  declared  it  was  the  Passion  which  filled  His 

Heart.     St.  Luke  records  His  words  in  the 

twelfth  chapter  of  the  Gospel.     He  was  speaking 

to  the  people  of  the  judgments  of  God.    He  warned 

the  Apostles  that  even  they  would  have  to  render 

an  account  of  their  stewardship.    He  threatened  the 

Scribes  and  Pharisees,  because  of  their  hypocrisy 

and  oppression  of  the  poor.     In  the  midst  of  His 

sermon,  He  clearly  made  known 

His  love  for  men  and  His  desire 

to   be  loved   by  them.     He   said 

at  the  same  time  His  whole  Heart 

was  throbbing  with  the  desire  to 

suffer  and  shed  His  Blood  for  love 

of  mankind. 

"I  am  come  to  cast  fire  on  the 
earth,"  said  Jesus,  "and  what  will 
I,  but  that  it  be  kindled.  And  I 
have  a  baptism  wherewith  I  am 
to  be  baptized;  and  how  am  I 
straightened  until  it  be  accom- 
plished." Explaining  these  words 
of  the  Divine  Master,  the  eminent 
preacher,  Bossuet,  tells  us  the  fire, 
which  Christ  desired  to  light  up  in 
every  heart,  was  His  own  love. 
Then  he  continues :  "Oh,  my 
Savior,  this  Baptism  wherewith 
Thou  didst  long  to  be  baptized  was  the  baptism  of 
Thy  Blood,  wherein  Thou  wast  to  be  plunged  for 
our  transgressions  by  Thy  most  grievous  Passion." 
It  was  at  the  Last  Supper,  the  night  before 
His  Passion  and  Death,  that  Jesus  most  clearly 
manifested  His  Heart  to  men.  Pleading  then  with 
the  Apostles  to  love  Him,  Jesus  exclaimned:  "He 
that  loveth  Me,  shall  be  loved  of  My  Father;  and 
I  will  love  him,  and  will  manifest  Myself  to  him. 
If  anyone  love  Me,  he  will  keep  My  word;  and  My 
Father  will  love  him,  and  we  will  come  to  him  and 
will  make  our  abode  with  him."  Such  was  the 
promise  of  the  Sacred  Heart  at  the  Last  Supper. 

He  continued :   "As  the  Father  hath  loved  Me., 
so  also  I  have  loved  you.     Abide  in  My  love.     If 
you  keep  My  commandments,  you  shall  abide  in 
34 


THE  +  SIGN 


My  love.  This  is  My  commandment,  that  you  love 
one  another  as  I  have  loved  you.  Greater  love  than 
this  no  man  hath,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for 
his  friends.  You  are  My  friends,  if  you  do  the 
things  that  I  command  you."  Thus  the  Sacred 
Heart  would  have  them  understand  that  His  Passion 
would  be  the  proof  of  His  love  for  them. 

EINALLY,  Jesus  prayed  for  them.  "Just 
Father,  the  world  hath  not  known  Thee.  But 
I  have  known  Thee,  and  these  have  known 
that  Thou  hast  sent  Me.  And  I  have  made  known 
Thy  Name  to  them,  and  will  make  it  known,  that 
the  love  wherewith  Thou  hast  loved  Me  may  be  in 
them  and  I  in  them."  Could  the  Divine  Heart  of 
Christ  have  made  itself  known  more  clearly! 

Jesus  was  betrayed  that  same  night  into  the 
power  of  His  enemies.  He  was  scourged,  crowned 
with  thorns,  and  crucified.  The  awful  scenes  fol- 
lowed each  other  quickly,  and  finally  ended  with 
His  death  on  the  Cross.  Then  "one  of  the  soldiers 
opened  His  Side  with  a  spear,  and  immediately 
there  came  out  blood  and  water."  In  this  way 
Jesus  finished  the  work  He  came  on  earth  to  do. 
He  loved  mankind  so  much,  as  to  give  the  very  last 
drops  of  blood  in  His  Sacred  Heart  for  their  happi- 
ness and  eternal  salvation. 

The  Savior  of  men  pointed  to  this  Wound  in 
His  Sacred  Heart  when  the  Apostles  hesitated  to 
believe  in  His  Resurrection  from  the  dead.  He 
made  the  doubting  Thomas  place  his  hand  in  that 
same  Wound,  not  only  that  he  might  be  convinced 
of  the  truth  but  also  that  men  would  understand  it 
was  for  love  of  them  He  suffered  and  died  and 
rose  again. 

Frequently  in  the  writings  of  the  Apostles,  the 
Passion  of  Our  Lord  is  mentioned  with  the  infinite 
love  of  the  Sacred  Heart.  Thus  St.  Peter  says: 
"Christ  suffered  for  us,  leaving  you  an  example  that 
3'ou  should  follow  in  His  footsteps.  For  you  were 
as  sheep  going  astray,  but  now  you  are  converted 
to  the  shepherd  and  bishop  of  your  souls."  More 
familiar  is  the  saying  of  St.  Paul :  "Christ  loved 
me,  and  delivered  Himself  up  for  me." 

The  Apostle  St.  John  seemed  to  surpass  all  the 
others  in  His  devotion  to  the  Divine  Master.  Ex- 
horting the  first  Christians,  he  says:  "Let  us  there- 
fore love  God,  because  God  hath  first  loved  us.  In 
this  we  have  known  the  charity  of  God,  because 
He  hath  laid  down  His  life  for  us."  Again,  he 
writes:    "God  hath  first  loved  us  and  sent  His  Son 


to  be  a  propitiation  for  our  sins."  In  writing  the 
history  of  the  Passion,  He  begins  with  the  words: 
"Having  loved  His  own,  who  were  in  the  world,  He 
loved  them  unto  the  end."  Then  he  relates  the 
incidents  of  Our  Lord's  sufferings  and  death  to  show 
how  He  loved  mankind  unto  the  end. 

^^^HROUGH  the  ages,  many  saints  studied  the 
I  J  love  of  the  Divine  Heart  of  Christ  through 
His  Cross  and  Passion.  It  was  this  twofold 
devotion  that  gave  so  much  courage  and  strength 
and  peace  to  the  apostles,  martyrs,  and  missionaries 
in  every  nation. 

St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  indeed  gave  his  life  to 
preaching  the  Cross  and  Passion  of  Our  Lord.  It 
is  noteworthy  that  he  was  directed  by  Our  Lord 
and  by  the  Mother  of  Sorrows  to  wear  a  badge 
that  resembled  the  Sacred  Heart  seen  by  St. 
Margaret  Mary — the  heart  surmounted  by  the  small 
cross  and  within  the  signs  of  the  Passion.  That 
St.  Paul  of  the  Cross  was  truly  devoted  to  the 
Sacred  Heart  may  be  judged  from  the  incident 
recorded  in  his  life,  that  on  one  occasion  when 
he  was  before  a  large  Crucifix,  he  was  lifted  up  to 
Our  Lord's  Side,  and  the  arm  of  the  Crucified 
unloosened  from  the  nails  and  surrounded  the 
Saint  pressing  him  closely  to  the  Divine  Heart  of 
Jesus. 

Friday,  the  one  day  every  week,  dedicated  to 
the  memory  of  the  Passion,  was  chosen  by  Our 
Savior  Himself  as  the  day  to  remember  and  to 
honor  His  Sacred  Heart.  In  the  devotions  of  the 
Holy  Hour,  the  Sacred  Heart  and  the  Sacred 
Passion  are  brought  together  in  adoration,  and 
thanksgiving. 

But  it  is  the  spirit  of  reparation  which  makes 
the  devotion  to  the  Passion  and  to  the  Divine  Heart 
of  Our  Savior  alike.  Jesus  offered  Himself  in 
His  passion  and  Death  in  reparation  for  the  sins  of 
mankind.  Likewise  the  essential  feature  of  all 
devotions  to  His  Sacred  Heart,  the  prayers  and 
Holy  Communions  and  acts  of  consecration  and 
novenas  and  days  of  retreat  are  multiplied  to  atone 
for  the  insults  and  outrages,  the  indifference  and 
contempt,  the  ingratitude  and  sinfulness  of  mankind. 
From  the  Cross  as  well  as  from  the  Tabernacle  goes 
forth  those  sad  words  of  the  Master:  "Behold  the 
Heart,  which  has  loved  mankind  so  much!"  In- 
finitely great  are  the  blessings  and  gifts  He  bestows 
on  those  who  remember  Him  and  love  Him  and 
keep  His  words. 


With  tke   Passionists   in   Ckina 

Hankow  to  Ckangtek 


XN  the  last  letter  sent  to  THE 
SIGN  I  spoke  about  the 
delay  in  Hankow  unavoidable 
because  of  the  celebration  of  the 
New  Year's  Festival  by  the  Chinese. 
We  were  impatient  to  be  on  our  way, 
so  on  Wednesday,  February  first, 
we  were  enabled  to  get  passage  on 
one  of  the  boats  of  the  Sun  Ying 
Lung  Coal  and  Coke  Company.  Our 
staterooms  were  about  the  size  of  a 
good  sized  packing  case,  and  the 
only  furnishings  supplied  to  pas- 
sengers was  a  smoky  oil  lamp.  We 
were  obliged  to  provide  our  own 
beds  and  rations.  To  reach  our 
quarters  it  was  necessary  to  go  down 
a  ladder  through  a  small  opening 
barely  large  enough  to  admit  of 
passage. 

The  boat  was  scheduled  to  start 
at  four  o'clock  and  we  hurried  on 
board,  but  it  was  seven  before  the 
boat  was  under  way.  The  Reverend 
Father  Maurice  and  Mr.  Sullivan 
and  Dr.  Francis  were  there  to  wish 
us  God  speed  on  our  journey.  We 
were  accompanied  by  Fr.  Gregory 
as  far  as  Changteh.  Supper  and 
indeed  all  meals  on  the  journey  were 
taken  under  difficulties,  and  through- 
out the  trip  we  had  to  depend  en- 
tirely on  canned  goods  without  even 
the  luxury  of  having  them  warmed 
before    eating. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  boat  stopped, 
and  the  captain  said  it  was  im- 
possible to  find  the  channel  in  the 
dark ;  in  reality  it  was  that  the 
captain  and  crew  might  spend  the 
night  at  the  favorite  pastime  of 
gambling.  The  room  chosen  for  the 
purpose  was  next  to  ours  and  all 
night  long  the  shouting  and  singing 
ivould  have  gone  on,  but  wearied 
beyond  endurance  Father  Gregory 
went  to  the  room  and  in  unmistaka- 
ble language  told  the  party  that  if 
the  singing  and  yelling  did  not  stop 
at  once  he  would  throw  them 
bodily  into  the  river.  They  fear  the 
foreigners,  and  from  then  on  we  had 
comparative  quiet,  though  we  could 
hear  the  rattle  of  the  dominoes  and 
the  click  of  copper  coins.     This  was 


the  order  of  exercises  each  night, 
and  the  captain  was  never  at  a  lor.s 
to  offer  a  new  excuse.  We  pro- 
tested vigorously  against  the  delay, 
and  Father  Gregory  threatened  to 
denounce  them  to  the  authorities, 
but  all  in  vain. 


ON  Friday  towards  noon,  the 
day  consecrated  to  the  sacred 
memory  of  Our  Lord's  Pas- 
sion, we  entered  the  promised  land — 
Hunan.  The  sun  smiled  a.  Dleasant 
welcome  to  the  first  band  of  Passion- 
ists to  enter  this  province — and  bv 
the  way — the  last  province  of  China 
to  admit  the  foreigner  within  its 
borders.  With  one  accord  we  offered 
heartfelt  thanks  to  God  for  the  pro- 
tection vouchsafed  us  thus  far,  and 
we  begged  St.  Paul  and  St.  Gabriel 
to  beseech  the  God  of  Light  to 
render  fruitful  our  labors  in  this 
land  of  spiritual  darkness. 
36 


After  a  short  while  we  entered 
Tung-Ting  Lake.  This  lake  at  high 
water  measures  sixty  by  seventy- 
five  miles,  though  when  we  came  to 
it,  it  was  only  a  crisscross  of  chan- 
nels, and  so  shallow  that  only  boats 
of  small  draft  could  make  the 
passage.  Little  by  little  the  stream 
we  were  following  had  become 
narrower  and  shallower,  until  at  six 
o'clock  the  following  evening  we 
came  to  a  small  village  where  we 
were  obliged  to  change  to  sampans. 

We  divided  the  baggage  and  pas- 
sengers, and  we  named  the  three 
sampans  we  occupied  the  Santa 
Maria,  the  Pinta  and  the  Nina. 
There  being  no  wind,  poles  were 
used  to  push  the  craft,  and  the 
speed  was  not  very  great.  The 
boatmen  said  they  feared  to  con- 
tinue during  the  night  on  account 
of  robbers  farther  upstream.  So  we 
followed  the  conduct  of  the  others 
that  made  up  the  fleet  and  tied  uo 
for  the  night. 

We  went  to  sleep  as  best  we  could 
to  the  music  of  the  tom-tom  and 
cymbals  furnished  by  those  who 
believe  that  music  has  charms  all  its 
own  to  fill  one  with  the  spirit  of  a 
Chinese  New  Year's  Festival.  It  was 
our  first  night  spent  in  a  Chinese 
sampan,  but  we  slept  soundly,  al- 
though obliged  to  crouch  in  curious 
fashion. 

VERY  early  in  the  morning  we 
were  again  on  the  way,  and 
Father  Agatho  had  somehow 
contrived  to  attach  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  to  a  pole,  and  the  sight  was 
a  cause  of  wonder  to  all  beholders. 
Our  progress  was  annoyingly  slow, 
but  there  was  no  way  to  better  con- 
ditions; the  men  rowed  when  the 
depth  of  the  water  permitted,  at 
other  times  used  the  poles  and 
pushed.  Now  and  then  the  boats 
were  stuck  in  the  mud,  but  the  boat- 
men promptly  plunged  waist  deep 
into  the  cold  water  pulling,  pushinpr 
and  in  everywise  coaxing  the  craft 
to  move  forward.  About  four 
o'clock     we     changed     to     a     rive*" 


THE  +  SIGN 


steamer  already  crowded,  but  some- 
how we  managed  to  get  aboard.  In 
the  transfer  some  of  our  baggage 
was  quite  soaked  with  water,  other- 
wise all  was  well. 

We  had  several  more  changes  of 
this  kind  from  steamers  to  sampans, 
and  back  again  to  steamers.  A 
change  had  to  be  made  at  a  small 
island  as  the  water  was  too  shallow 
to  allow  the  boat  to  go  around  it. 
Everything  on  board  was  thrown 
into  the  mud.  Crossing  the  island, 
wading  through  the  deep,  slimy, 
sticky  mud,  everyone  loaded  to 
capacity  with  bags  and  pans,  and 
pots  and  kettles,  is  pleasant  enough 
to  write  about,  but  made  us  feel 
that  in  some  ways  at  least  we  were 
pioneers. 

At  last  Changteh  is  in  sight.  We 
travelled  exactly  one  hundred  and 
twenty  miles  in  five  days ! 
one  could  have  gone  from 
New  York  to  San  Francisco 
in  less  time.  Wearied  and 
tired  we  were  welcomed  by 
Father  Vincent  in  charge  of 
the  Mission  here,  and  he  was 
more  than  princely  in  his 
hospitality.  He  sought  in 
every  way  to  make  our  visit 
pleasant  and  memorable.  The 
Christians  of  the  district 
were  assembled  to  greet  the 
Sen-Fus  from  America;  all 
piously  knelt  for  the  blessing 
and  were  gladdened  by  the  little 
pictures  and  medals  we  gave  them. 

This  mission  at  Changteh  is  most 
successful.  There  are  seven  hundred 
converted  Christians  and  over  three 
thousands  Catechumens  under  in- 
struction. During  the  night  an  in- 
fant had  been  left  at  the  Mission, 
and  Father  Vincent  baptized  it  at 
once  fearing  it  would  not  live  long. 
He  named  it  Paula  in  honor  of  our 
Holy  Founder,  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross. 
Paula  had  not  long  to  wait  for 
heaven,  for  within  a  few  hours  her 
soul  went  to  God.  The  Mission  has 
in  its  care  more  than  two  hundred 
of  these  abandoned  babies.  The 
sjtme  day  two  more  little  ones  were 
found,  and  it  was  Father  Agatho's 
privilege  to  baptize  both,  calling  one 
Gabriella  after  St.  Gabriel,  and  the 
other  Justina  after  our  Very  Rever- 
end Father  Provincial,  to  whose  zeal 
for  the  salvation  of  souls,  the  Pas- 


sionist  Mission  in  China  largely  owes 
its  inception. 

Changteh    to    Shenchowfu 

ONLY  one  more  journey  till  we 
shall  be  in  the  land  of  prom- 
ise, that  place  which  for  years 
was  uppermost  in  our  thoughts  and 
desire.  We  heard  souls  cry  out 
from  afar  "Come"  and  in  six  or 
eight  days'  journey  our  hopes  were 
to  be  realized.  With  such  thoughts 
in  mind  it  will  not  be  surprising  to 
any  one  to  know  we  were  eager  to  be 
off  and  going;  so,  down  to  the 
shore  we  went  anxious  to  obtain 
shipping.  Happily  there  was  a 
large  Chinese  Junk  tied  up  at  the 
wharf,  and  quite  unexpectedly  we 
were  able  to  commandeer  it  for  our 
journey.  Our  departure  was  made 
the    occasion    of    much    excitement. 


CHINESE   JUNK,    PASSENGERS   AND   CREW 

Father  Vincent  had  a  large  banner 
painted  in  Chinese  characters,  which 
announced  to  the  passers-by  that 
the  occupants  of  the  barge  were 
destined  for  Shenchowfu  to  preach 
the  religion  of  the  Lord  of  heaven. 
This  was  done  as  a  precaution 
against  the  bandits  who  infest  the 
river,  but  as  a  rule  do  not  molest 
the  missionaries.  The  fact  that  our 
departure  was  to  be  on  the  First 
Friday  of  the  month,  made  us  feel 
that  the  Sacred  Heart  of  our  Saviour 
would  bless  our  journey  and  our 
work. 

y^^HE  Christians  who  lived  in 
f  J  the  vicinity  of  the  church 
^-  came  to  bid  us  farewell. 
Then  all  went  to  the  church  where 
prayers  were  said  for  God's  blessing 
on  the  missionaries  and  their  future 
work.  At  a  signal  from  Father 
37 


Vincent  the  faithful  stopped  their 
loud  prayers,  and  the  priests  recited 
alternately  the  "Benedictut."  When 
we  came  to  the  boat  we  hoisted  an 
American  Flag  beneath  the  Mission 
Banner,  although  the  mast  was 
covered  with  emblems  of  pagan 
superstition.  A  few  minutes  of 
final  preparation  and  we  were  off. 
Our  party  was  made  up  of  Father 
Leopold,  the  Pastor  of  Shenchowfu, 
a  catechist,  three  men,  and  the  wife 
and  child  of  one  of  them,  and  the 
six  Passionists.  The  crew  of  the 
Junk  consisted  of  seventeen  men  ; 
as  there  was  neither  steam  nor 
motor  power,  we  had  to  depend  on 
the  wind,  and  when  it  failed,  on  the 
power  of  the  men. 

At  Houfu  a  short  stop  was  made 
to  visit  the  seminary  of  the  Augus- 
tinian  Fathers,  as  well  as  to  see  the 
church.  Father  Yictorianus 
and  Father  Francis  paid  a 
short  visit  to  the  boat,  and 
were  treated  to  a  cup  of  tea, 
something  always  on  tap  in 
the   Far   East. 

Progress  at  night  is  im- 
possible on  this  river,  so  we 
had  to  tie  up  at  a  small  river 
port.  As  usual,  when  the 
boat  had  been  boarded  in, 
the  Fathers  recited  the 
Rosary  and  night  prayers, 
while  in  the  next  tiny  cabin, 
the  Christians  chanted  their 
Rosary  and  Litanies  in  a  plaintive 
tone.  These  poor  Chinese  would 
never  think  of  retiring  without  these 
devotions,  and  we  could  not  help 
thinking  that  there  was  a  time  in 
our  own  country  when  no  family 
that  called  itself  Catholic  would 
retire  without  doing  the  same.  More 
than  this  these  same  Christians  are 
not  in  the  least  afraid  that  their 
neighbors  will  hear  them  at  their 
prayers,  for  the  occupants  of  the 
other  boats  wondered  at  the  un- 
familiar sounds. 

ON  Sunday  morning  we  had 
Holy  Mass.  It  was  indeed  a 
charming  sight,  and  one  that 
inspired  devotion.  The  darkened 
cabin,  lighted  only  by  the  candles  on 
the  tiny"  altar,  the  Fathers  and 
Christians  kneeling  in  silent  prayer 


THE  T  SIGN 


BEGGING    FOR    A    LITTLE    RILE 


as  Father  Leopold  recited  the  beau- 
tiful prayers  in  the  liturgy  of  the 
church  for  the  first  Sunday  in  Lent : 
"He  shall  call  upon  Me,  and  I  shall 
hear  him.  He  that  dwelleth  in  the 
help  of  the  Most  High  shall  abide 
under  the  protection  of  the  God  of 
Heaven."  And  the  beseeching  words 
of  the  Epistle:  "Brethren,  we  do 
exhort  you  that  ye  receive  not  the 
grace  of  God  in  vain."  As  if  the 
Saviour  was  stretching  forth  His 
arms  to  the  children  of  darkness, 
begging  them  to  receive  the  message 
now  being  brought  to  them  by  the 
Sons  of  the  Cross  and  Passion.  Then 
the  tiny  tinkle  of  the  little  bell,  as 
the  heads  bowed  low  in  reverence, 
and  the  snow-white  Host  is  lifted 
heavenwards,  the  clean  oblation  of 
the  true  Church  of  God. 

By  this  time  we  had  come  to  the 
rapids  in  the  river.  After  Mass  was 
finished  we  went  outside  to  feast 
our  eyes  on  the  glorious  sight, 
glorious  in  spite  of  the  dangers  that 
were  possible  at  any  moment. 

Notwithstanding  the  brisk  wind 
which  favored  us,  progress  was  im- 
possible by  sail  alone,  and  the  crew 
waded  to  shore  and  pulled  the  boat 
along.  A  long  stout  rope  is  attached 
to  the  mast,  and  fastened  by  many 
shorter  ones  to  the  sailors  on  shore. 
At  times  one  hundred  men  are 
strung  along  the  shore  tugging  at 
the  various  boats,  and  when  one 
tries  to  pass  another  boat,  there  is 
no  end  to  the  fun.  The  yelling  and 
confusion   is   frightful. 


ON  the  morning  of  March  sixth, 
we  entered  the  district  as- 
signed to  us  for  our  future 
labors.  A  great  salute  of  fire- 
crackers took  place  as  we  passed 
the  first  village.  Was  it  for  us? 
Hardly!  But  we  took  it  as  such, 
and  rejoiced  in  the  fact  that  even 
if  we  did  not  have  the  questionable 
protection  of  the  pagan  gods,  we 
had  that  which  is  far  better,  the 
protection  of  the  Lord  of  Heaven. 
Later  on  we  passed  the  first  mis- 
sion station,  Liou  Lin  Cha.  Here 
there  is  a  small  chapel  erected,  a 
tiny  white  affair,  nestling  at  the  foot 
of  one  of  the  most  beautiful  moun- 


tains. Two  giant  dome-shaped 
mountains  stand  guard  over  the  dis- 
trict, their  sides  a  barren  slate,  their 
tops  crowned  with  green,  and  softly 
veiled  by  the  fleecy  clouds. 

Father  Leopold  is  able  to  visit 
these  Christians  only  once  or  twice 
a  year,  but  later  on,  with  God's  help, 
we  hope  to  have  a  resident  priest 
and  catechist  here,  to  continue  the 
work  so  well  begun. 

The  captain  of  the  steamboat 
running  between  Shanghai  and  Han- 
kow had  informed  us  that  our  mis- 
sion was  founded  amid  the  most 
beautiful  scenery  in  the  world.  This 
may  have  been  an  exaggeration,  but 
certainly    not    a    great    one. 

We  cannot  describe  the  joy  that 
filled  our  souls  when  rounding  a 
curve  in  the  stream,  Shenchowfu 
was  seen  in  the  distance.  God  be 
praised  for  His  wonderful  protection 
vouchsafed  us  during  the  last  three 
months. 

The  Fathers  and  Brother,  with- 
out exception,  have  been  singularly 
well,  and  the  inconveniences  have 
only  served  to  make  each  one  more 
willing  to  suffer,  if  God  so  wills  it, 
for  the  sake  of  the  work  to  which 
we  have  been  chosen.  We  are  about 
to  disembark,  and  as  many  things, 
doubtless,  will  claim  our  attention 
on  arrival,  we  had  better  close  this 
letter  now.  We  hope  in  our  next 
letter  to  THE   SIGN  to  tell  about 


VICTIMS    OF    STARVATION    FOR    MARCH    STH 
38 


THE  1*  SIGN 


•ur  mission,  and,  as  far  as  possible, 
our  plans  of  campaign. 
The   Fathers 

per   Father   Cclestinc. 

fINCE  the  foregoing  was  re- 
ceived, several  smaller  letters 
have  come  from  the  Fathers. 
In  these  they  tell  us  they  were 
brought  face  to  face  with  the  bor- 
rowing spectacle  of  men  and  women 
dying  from  starvation,  and  the  land 
one  of  paupers.  It  will  be  quite 
shocking  to  our  sensibilities  to  see 
the  grim  reality,  as  portrayed  in  the 
accompanying  illustrations,  but  when 
famine  stalks  abroad,  delicate  sensi- 
bilities must  yield  place  to  human 
sympathy.  We  quote  from  one  of 
these  letters : 

"The  accompanying  picture  tells 
its  own  story.  Don't  think  there  is 
any  exaggeration,  for  I  assure  you 
there  is  not.  Today  I  sent  what 
money  I  could  spare  to  a  priest  in 
another  district  where  the  famine  is 
also  reaping  a  plentiful  harvest  of 
human  beings.  I  realize  it  is  early 
to  ask  for  help,  but  what  can  you 
do  when  each  day  you  are  greeted 
by  an  army  of  beggars  who  ask  for 
food,  and  you  come  face  to  face 
with  such  scenes  as  the  one  here 
pictured.  I  begrudge  myself  the 
food  I  take,  and  each  day  I  have 
prayed  God  at  Holy  Mass  to  cause 
our  American  people  to  realize  what 
hunger  means,  what  starvation 
means,  what  famine  means.  These 
poor  people  are  clothed  in  rags. 
They  are  ragged  and  cold,  but  they 
say  nothing  of  all  this — only  food — 
a  bowl  of  rice,  something  to  eat. 
Oh,  if  our  American  people  could 
realize  what  famine  meant,  especially 
they  whom  God  has  blessed  with 
abundance,  and  super-abundance, 
such  conditions  as  exist  here,  could 
not  and  should  not  exist.  It  is  a 
blot  on  civilization,  and  civilization 
is  doing  nothing  to  alleviate  the 
human  misery  that  exists  here  in 
abundance.  Christian  charity  alone 
can  help,  and  will  help,  the  charity 
of  Christ  that  will  share  its  own 
morsel  with  those  who  have  nothing 
and  are  dying  of  hunger  and  starva- 
tion." 

another  letter  we  quote 
follows : 

am   enclosing   a    picture 


which  will  give  you  an  idea  of  the 
deaths  caused  by  the  famine  in  the 
district  entrusted  to  our  care.  This 
is  death's  toll  for  March  5th.  This 
picture    was    taken    in    the    city    of 


Donations  received  to  May  10th. 
for  the  Chinese  Missions  are  hereby, 
gratefully  acknowledged.  These 
donations  shall  form  the  nucleus  of 
a  "Burse"  to  be  named  in  honor  of 
the  Founder  of  the  Passionist  Order, 
St.  Paul  of  the  Cross. 

Mite  Box  donations  and  "Mission 
Crusades"  in  Schools,  Academies, 
Sodalities,  Nurses  in  Hospitals,  and 
Mission  Circles  in  Parishes,  will  be 
placed  to  the  credit  of  the  "Burse" 
in  honor  of  St.  Gabriel  the  Passion- 
ist Student  Saint,  recently  canon- 
ized. 

St.  Paul's  Burse:  — 

M.   A,   Jersey   City $20.00 

A.  W.  Whitestone,  N.  Y 5.00 

M.  A.,  Madison,  N.  J 100.00 

St.  Michael's,  Pittsburgh,  Pa.  25.00 

M.   W.   Baltimore,   Md 5.00 

Mrs.  L.  J.  O.,  Buechel,  Ky...  1.00 

M.   W.   Scranton,   Pa 1.00 

M.  Mc  A.,  Jersey  City 5.00 

Mrs.  M.  Newton  Falls,  Mass..  5.00 

Sister  M.  B.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  5.00 

Rev.  A,  Dunkirk,  N.  Y 10.00 

Anon.,    West    Hoboken 2.00 

M.  S.,  Davenport,  Iowa 2.00 

R.  H.,  Iowa  City,  Iowa 1.00 

K.  R.  S.,  New  York 1.00 

R.  \V.,  St.  Louis,  Mo 1.00 

In  memory  of  E.  R 10.00 

St.   Gabriel's    Burse 

Mission    Crusade,    Catonsville, 

Md 25.00 

Friend    1.00 

Mite  Box,  Mrs.  C,  Bayonne,.  10.85 

Mite  Box,  M.  T.  M.,  Newark.  2.85 

Mite  Box,  D.  C,  Jersey  City. .  3.88 

Mite  Box,  L.  &  G.,  Jersey  City  .60 
Mite  Box,  Anon.,  West 

Hoboken     4.74 

Mite    Box,  Mrs.  A.  Jersey  City  2.07 


EROM  ; 
as  foil 
"I  a 


Yuanchow,  in   the  southern  part  of 
our   territory. 

The  Catholic  Mission  in  Yuanchow 

was    opened    last    year    by    Father 

Hippolytus,    O.    S.    A.,    the    present 

39 


pastor.  On  Christmas  Day  nineteen 
were  baptized,  and  the  outlook  for 
the  future  is  promising.  How- 
ever, the  Protestant  minister, 
angered  at  the  interest  shown  in  the 
Catholic  religion,  even  by  many  of 
his  own  proselytes,  offered  them  five 
dollars  (a  munificent  sum  to  these 
poor  people)  if  they  would  stay 
away  from  the  Catholic  chapel. 
The  attraction  at  the  Catholic  chapel 
could  not  have  been  money,  for 
the  priest  is  poor,  and  does  not 
receive  the  alms  which  are  constant- 
ly being  sent  to  the  Protestants. 

Yuanchow  is  a  large  city,  proba- 
bly the  largest  in  our  district.  When 
our  American  Passionists  have  set- 
tled there,  we  hope  to  have  a  flour- 
ishing mission. 

Conditions  in  Shenchowfu  are  bad 
also.  It  does  not  seem  possible  that 
a  human  creature  could  be  reduced 
to  such  a  pitiable  state  through  lack 
of  food.  To  walk  through  the  city 
and  see  the  streets  with  hundreds 
of  famished  creatures,  begging  for 
a  bowl  of  rice,  would  draw  tears 
from  the  eyes  of  the  most  hardened. 

In  the  rear  of  our  mission  is  a 
large  pagoda  where  the  city  doles 
out  a  mere  pittance  of  rice  daily  to 
the  destitute.  Many  poor  creatures 
die  there  nightly  from  hunger  and 
disease. 

Later  on,  God  willing,  we  hope  to 
have  a  place  in  which  to  keep  some 
of  the  little  orphans.  The  majority 
of  these  die  after  a  few  weeks  or  a 
month.  Our  object  is  to  secure  the 
grace  of  Baptism  for  these  little 
ones  so  dear  to  the  Sacred  Heart  of 
Jesus. 

Of  course  this  means  money,  but 
we  know  that  our  friends  in  America 
will  help  us.  At  Lichow,  the  Bishop's 
residence  (many  miles  from  here, 
and  not  in  our  territory)  there  is  a 
large  orphan  asylum.  Good  Father 
Abraham,  the  priest  in  charge,  has 
truly  labored  as  the  Father  of  a 
chosen  people  among  these  aban- 
doned children.  Since  the  work  of 
the  Holy  Infancy  was  started,  he 
has  received  and  baptized  thirteen 
thousand  babies.  Of  this  great 
number,  only  about  five  hundred  are 
now  living.  He  showed  me  the  plain 
little  wooden  caskets,  a  supply  of 
which  is  always  kept  on  hand.'' 


Index  to  Worthwhile  Reading 


A  Catechism  of  Christian  Doc- 
trine. Rev.  Michael  J.  Duffj  ;  New 
York. 

Not  the  least  of  the  many  im- 
portant laws  promulgated  by  the 
Church  during  the  Pontificate  of  the 
Saintly  Pius  X.  were  those  relating 
to  the  necessity  of  teaching  the 
Catechism  of  Christian  Doctrine. 
He  did  not  disdain,  although  Su- 
preme Pontiff,  to  teach  catechism  to 
the  poor  of  Rome.  The  knowledge 
of  the  truths  of  faith,  the  obliga- 
tions of  the  commandments  of  God 
and  of  the  Church,  and  the  estab- 
lished channels  of  grace  to  the  soul, 
supplies  to  conscience,  the  standard 
of  right  believing  and  right  doing, 
and  this  knowledge,  almost  without 
exception  comes  from  the  catechism 
and  the  instruction  based  on  the 
catechism. 

The  well  educated  Catholic  is  in 
nearly  every  instance  the  good  living 
Catholic,  whilst  the  Catholics  whose 
religious  instruction  has  been 
neglected,  are  in  the  main,  the  ones 
who  neglect  duty  and  not  unfre- 
quently  fall  away  from  God  and 
from  all  religion.  They  were  baptized, 
but  never  learned  the  catechism. 

The  author's  apology  for  publish- 
ing a  new  catechism  is  stated  in  his 
"Foreword";  that  the  catechisms  in 
use  are  beyond  the  capacity  of  the 
generality  of  children  of  the  gram- 
mar grades.  The  language  used, 
bristles  with  words  that  convey  no 
meaning  to  the  child-mind.  Special 
care  has  been  bestowed  on  the 
chapters :  "The  Church,"  "The 
Mass,"  "The  Eucharist,"  to  make 
them  more  suited  to  the  needs  of 
our  times  and  country. 

Indulgences  as  a  Social  Factor  in 
the  Middle  Ages.  Dr.  N.  Paulus, 
Devin-Adair  Co.,  New  York.    $1.35. 

To  write  the  history  of  indulgences 
in  the  Middle  Ages,  Dr.  Paulus  had, 
perforce,  to  portray  the  beneficent 
work  in  all  manner  of  good  causes, 
which  the  people  carried  on.  The 
inducement  of  the  peculiar  spiritual 
reward  implied  in  indulgences,  was 
used  not  only  for  works  immediately 
connected  with  Divine  Service  in 
Spiritual  Works  of  Mercy,  but  also 
for    such    temporal    terrene    causes, 


as  bridge  building,  upkeep  of  dams, 
road  repairs,  etc.  Bridges  secured 
the  safety  of  the  pilgrim — the  Mid- 
dle Ages  is  famous  for  its  charity 
for  the  traveller — hence  bridge — 
building  was  a  work  of  mercy.  "The 
Bridge  Brothers"  had  a  long  catalog 
of  indulgences  to  their  credit.  Any 
cause  that  benefited  the  society  of 
town  or  state  was  a  good  work,  and 
to  contribute  thereto,  was  an  act 
deserving  of  a  spiritual  reward — a 
powerful  incentive  to  the  individual. 
Louis  IX  carried  earth  to  fill  an  arm 
of  a  canal,  that  he  might  draw  on 
the  riches  held  in  The  Treasury  of 
the  Church.  Colonization  was  for 
the  good  of  society,  as  well  as  a 
means  of  bringing  the  faith  to  the 
natives.  So  Pope  Alexander  grants 
a  plenary  indulgence  to  those  who 
would  settle  in  America.  Indul- 
gences were  offered  to  create  the 
"Montes  Pietatis" — credit  organi- 
zations or  banks,  which  held  work- 
ing capital  to  come  to  the  rescue  of 
the  poor.  Indulgences,  much  mis- 
understood and  much  maligned,  were 
the  powerful  instigators  of  all  the 
social,  as  well  as  religious  works  of 
the  Middle  Ages.— Within  the 
boards  of  this  small  book  is  com- 
pressed a  vast  amount  of  interesting 
historical  information. 

Sister  Benigna  Consolata  (Visit- 
andine).  Georgetown  Visitation  Con- 
vent, Washington,  D.   C. 

"This  Life  tells  us  that  we  have 
saints  with  us  always.  The  Past  is 
shining  with  its  aureoles,  as  multidu- 
dinous  as  the  stars  of  heaven.  But 
the  Present,  too,  is  weaving 
aureoles."  St.  Margaret  Mary 
Alacoque  seems  born  again  in  her 
sister  in  religion,  Benigna  Consolata. 
Our  Lord  called  her  His  "Little 
Secretary" — "The  Apostle  of  My 
Mercy."  And  the  extracts  which 
this  sketch  contains  leave  no  doubt 
in  the  mind  that  the  communications 
slie  transcribed  came  straight  from 
the  Heart  of  Christ.  The  extracts 
are  sufficient  to  make  us  share  the 
regret  of  the  authors  of  the  little 
memoir  that  they  cannot  give  more 
at  length  these  writings  marked 
with  divine  delicacy  and  sweetness. 
40 


The  Conversion  of  the  Pagan 
World,  translated  and  adapted.  Rev. 
Joseph  McGlinchey.  Boston,  Mass. 
$1.50  postpaid. 

This  is  a  book  with  a  mission. 
The  call  has  come  to  the  American 
Church  to  go  out  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth  to  preach  the  Gospel.  Apostles 
we  all  must  be  according  to  the 
special  work  which  is  variously 
required  of  every  one  of  the  house- 
hold of  the  Faith.  This  is  the  manu- 
al in  which  is  set  forth  what  the 
work  is  and  what  each  may  do  that 
the  mission  confided  to  us  fail  not. 
Part  one  treats  of  the  Mission  Field; 
part  two,  The  Workers;  part  three, 
Christian  Co-operation;  and  part 
four,  Mission  Aid  Societies. 

No  one  can  read  the  work  without 
a  conviction  that  he  or  she  has  a 
mission — the  Pentecostal  mission  of 
carrying  the  Faith  to  those  who 
have  not  even  heard  of  the  glad 
tidings  of  the  Redemption  of  Christ. 

This  mission  is  a  personal  obliga- 
ton  for  every  Catholic  without 
exception  and  for  each  implies 
personal  sacrifice.  We  cannot  all 
go  into  heathen  lands.  The  Mis- 
sioner  goes  as  representative  of  all. 
His  sacrifice  is  to  leave  home  and 
country  and  labor  unceasingly,  amid 
privations  and  with  no  comforts. 
They  who  stay  at  home,  must  co- 
operate and  support  their  repre- 
sentatives who  have  gone  forth. 
Every  Catholic  is  bound  to  pray  for 
the  foreign  missions,  and  thus 
render  fruitful  the  preaching  of  the 
apostles  of  the  Church.  They  must 
do  more  than  that.  They  must  con- 
tribute the  money  needed.  This 
book  tells  what  is  our  obligation, 
and  should  make  of  every  reader  a 
zealous  apostle,  and  should  there- 
fore be  in  every  Catholic  Home, 
and  on  the  shelves  of  every  parish 
and  sodality  library.  Concerning 
this  volume  Cardinal  O'Conneil 
writes  : . . .  "It  should  be  the  spiritual 
bell  of  our  Mission  Seminaries,  the 
text  book  for  the  members  of  the 
Priests'  Missionary  Union  and  of  the 
Catholic  Students'  Mission  Crusade, 
the  widespread  instrument  of  propa- 
ganda of  the  American  Board  of 
Catholic    Missions." 


\  v_\ 


A  NATION  A  L      <J> '    CAT  M  O  LI  C 
/MONTHLY        MACAZINLX 


VOL.  I. 


JULY,    1922 


Mo.  12 


Very   Rev.  Fr.    Fidelis,   Passionist 


(J« 


Kent  Stone) 


FOREWORD 

^-^-^HAT   is   to   follow,   on   the   career   of   Fr. 

W  I  ^  Fidelis,    should   at   best   be   classified   as 

\l/    sketches.     Even   so,  a  foreword  may  be 

called  for  by  our  readers.  ' 

A  great  number  of  readers  learned  only,  through 
the  press  notices  published  on  the  occasion  of  his 
death  that  Fr.  Fidelis  had  been  an  outstanding  and 
influential  figure  of  the  Church  in  America.  A  man 
with  such  a  reputation  who  eluded  recognition  by  the 
public  eye  for  so  many  years  becomes  to  the  present 
generation  'a  man  of  mystery.' 

The  truth  is  he  was  born  to  be  great.  Only  at 
long  intervals  in  the  line  of  men,  do  we  find  one 
having  such  an  assemblage  of  varied  and  resplend- 
ent endowments,  as  were  his.  At  rare  intervals 
shall  we  meet  one  who  at  so  early  an  age  emerged 
at  a  commanding  point  of  vantage  through  swiftly 
moving  imposing  experiences;  his  life  was  a  'High 
Romance'  while  he  was  still  in  his  twenties. 

Just  on  this  account,  will  older  readers  ask 
why  does  the  'chapter  end  there?'  These  aquaint- 
ences  of  Fr.  Fidelis  preserved  an  admiration  too 
glowing  for  time  to  bedim.  Yet  when  they  speak  of 
his  later  life  there  is  an  audible  undertone  of  lament. 
The  words  of  Oliver  W.  Holmes,  echo  faithfully 
their  sentiments  relative  to  his  Catholic  life.  In 
answer  to  a  request  for  reminiscences  he  writes  us 
in  part,  "I  am  truly  sorry  that  I  have  no  facts  to 
tell  you,  but  I  have  given  you  all  I  have;  vivid 
impressions  of  a  star  seen  at  long  intervals  and 
then  hidden  from  my  sight." 


J^-'HEY  remember  that  Kent  Stone  in  the  late 
V/  J  sixties  seemed  destined  to  be  the  American 
counterpart  of  Newman. 

He  was  recognized  as  being  the  most  brilliant 
light  in  the  Anglican  Church  at  the  time  he  left  it. 
Bishop  Coxe  broke  forth  into  a  circular  letter  to  the 
Powers  in  the  Anglican  body  on  the  occasion  of 
James  Kent  Stone's  accepting  the  presidency  of 
Hobart  College.     "Congratulate  us " 

This  same  Bishop  Coxe,  before  another  year 
had  elapsed,  came  to  the  President's  apartments 
to  make  a  last  effort  to  prevent  Fr.  Fidelis  from 
going  over  to  Rome.  Failing  in  this,  he  carried  on 
like  a  maniac,  literally  tearing  the  hair  out  of  his 
head.  Kent  Stone  was  only  twenty-nine  when  he 
came  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  Church  for  admis- 
sion, with  "The  Invitation  Heeded"  in  his  hand; 
a  book  which,  as  Fr.  Havens  Richards  S.J.  says, 
has  brought  as  many  converts  into  the  Church  as 
there  are  words  in  it.  Then,  our  elders  will  tell  us, 
the  eclipse  came,  relieved  now  and  again  at  long 
intervals  by  a  furtive  flash.  None  other  could  have 
accomplished  what  he  chose  to  leave  undone.  They 
are  aware  that  he  labored  on  under  cover  in  foreign 
lands;  that  he  was  a  'hunter  of  souls'  well  nigh  over 
the  face  of  the  globe;  that  in  his  own  community, 
he  was  prominent,  fulfilling  its  highest  offices — all 
this  ought  not,  to  have  interfered  with  his  higher 
and  larger  national  mission. 

Will  our  readers  expect  these  sketches  to 
bear  the  character  of  an  'Apologia,  in  all  that 
has    to    do    with    the    major    portion    of    his    life? 


THE  1*  SIGN 


Evidently  Fr.  Fidelis  himself  did  not  think  that 
there  was  any  necessity  of  explanation  or  of  defense 
of  his  Catholic  days.  Whoever  knew  him  will 
readily  read  the  impatience  in  the  words  in  which 
he  takes  into  account  what  others  than  himself 
considered  his  mission. 

"Fifty  years  have  passed  since  the  foregoing 
chapters  were  written.  Like  a  watch  in  the  night 
those  years  have  gone;  and  now,  to  my  surprise,  I 
find  myself  growing  old.  During  this  long  interval 
I  have  always  shrunk  from  anything  like  controversy. 
Not  that  I  would  underrate  the  value  of  such  dis- 
cussion, but  I  had  already  done  my  part,  I  thought, 
in  that  line ;  and  it  was  a  relief  to  dismiss  such  topics 
from  my  mind.  My  thoughts  were  engaged  other- 
where." 

"Neither  did  I  pay  heed  to  suggestions  that  I 
should  write  'something  worth  while'  about  what  I 
had  observed  in  foreign  countries.  I  did  not  feel 
myself  called  to  pass  judgment  on  the  state  of 
religion  in  other  lands;  all  my  desire  was  to  work 
as  a  simple  missionary  wherever  obedience  might 
place  me." 

y^ANY  will  learn  here  for  the  first  time  that 
\|  J  Fr.  Fidelis  again  took  up  his  pen  a  short 
time  before  he  died.  "The  Awakening  and 
What  Followed"  is  divided  into  two  parts.  In  the 
first  there  is  practically  a  re-issue  of  "The  Invitation 
Heeded."  "What  Followed"  sparingly  sketches 
some  of  the  activities  of  his  Catholic  life.  Old 
acquaintances  were  puzzled  over  the  appearance 
of  the  book:  the  ostensible  reason  given  in  the 
'Prologue'  could  not  be  the  whole  of  the  truth.  The 
secret  of  why  he  wrote  again  barely  escaped  going 
to  the  grave  with  him.  Whatever  his  reasons,  he 
evidently  did  not  believe  there  was  any  call  for  an 
'Apologia.' 

The  reader  must  be  content  to  accept  his 
avowal :  he  was  not  destined  for  what  universal 
sentiment  seems  to  have  decreed  ought  to  have  been 
his  life-work.  What  his  conception  was  of  his 
mission,  and  how  he  lived  it  out,  these  papers  will 
endeavor  to  reveal. 


fi 


PARENTAGE  AND  EARLY  YEARS 

R.  FIDELIS  contributed,  on  several  occa- 
sions only,  to  the  "Class  Book"  which  every 
graduating  class  of  Harvard  publishes 
annually.     Each  year  the  members  of  the 


class  supply  autobiographical  notes  which  are 
weaved  into  a  sketch  of  the  individuals.  The 
Annual  serves  as  a  kind  of  directory,  giving  in- 
formation as  to  the  location,  interests  and  achieve- 
ments of  the  members.  The  "Class  Book"  of  the 
class  of  1861  contains  a  summary  of  the  life  of 
Fr.  Fidelis  up  to  the  year  1863  written  by  himself 
from  Brookline  in  the  summer  of  1863. 

"I  was  born  on  the  10th  of  November  1840 
in  Tremont  Place,  Boston,  Mass.  My  father  was  the 
Rev.  J.  S.  Stone,  D.D.,  of  the  Episcopal  Church, 
at  that  time,  Rector  of  St.  Paul's,  Boston.  My 
mother  was  a  daughter  of  James  Kent  for  many 
years  Chancellor  of  the  State  of  New  York  and 
author  of  Kent's  Commentaries.  I  was  my  mother's 
first  child  and  naturally  was  named  by  her  after 
my  grandfather.  Soon  after  my  birth,  my  parents 
removed  to  the  city  of  Brooklyn,  in  the  State  of 
New  York,  and  there  the  first  twelve  years  of  my 
life  were  spent.  It  is  doubtful,  however,  if  my 
conscious  existence  as  a  free  agent  began  till  our 
return  to  the  old  Bay  State  in  1852.  Toward  the 
close  of  this  year,  my  father  accepted  a  call  to 
St.  Paul's  Church  in  the  Village  of  Brookline,  within 
sight  of  the  Boston  State  House  and  in  this  charming 
town  our  family  continued  to  have  its  home  until 
my  college  days  were  over." 

XN  so  far  as  ancestry  is  a  title  to  standing 
among  us,  James  Kent  Stone,  — Kent  Stone 
he  was  usually  called— began  life  with  unusual 
advantages.  Kent  recalls  one  of  America's  most 
distinguished  citizens  whose  place,  in  her  Hall  of 
Fame  is  secure.  Father  Fidelis  was  his  favorite 
grandchild  and  was  named  after  him.  The  Stones 
represent  one  of  New  England's  proudest  ancestries. 
The  scion  of  the  race,  John  Stone,  added  lustre  to 
the  family  name  by  a  very  notable  career. 

In  the  "Memories  of  Chancellor  Kent,"  dedicat- 
ed to  Mary  Kent,  the  mother  of  Father  Fidelis,  the 
author  after  noting  the  fact  that  "the  traditions, 
usages,  institutions  which  had  come  from  England 
had  been  razed  to  the  ground,"  continues,  "To  James 
Kent  came  the  duty  of  reconstruction  and  at  this  day, 
fifty  years  after  his  deathj  it  can  only  be  truly  said 
that  it  is  due  to  his  life's  work  more  than  to  that  of 
any  other  man  that  the  United  States  from  ocean 
to  ocean  is  controlled  by  the  same  system  of  juris- 
prudence founded  upon  those  principles  of  law  and 
equity  which  he  enunciated.  Early  in  his  profes- 
sional career  he  grasped  the  thought  that  he  was 


THE  1*  SIGN 


free  to  reconstruct  with  no  one  to  controvert,  and 
from  the  writings  of  the  great  sages  and  civilians 
of  antiquity  he  enriched,  beautified  and  enlarged 
the  commercial  laws  of  his  country  and  dignified 
for  all  time  the  profession  to  which  he  belonged." 

"Kent,"  we  read  in 
The  American  Bar  Associ- 
ation Journal,  Dec.  1921, 
"is  invariably  spoken  of 
as  the  American  'Black- 
stone.'  This  is  to  give 
him  an  exalted  place,  for 
the  position  of  Blackstone 
is  unique,  and  no  one  but 
Kent  has  ever  shared 
these  honors." 

CHANCELLOR  Kent 
died  when  Father 
Fidelis  was  in  his 
eighth  year.  We  have  but 
little  record  as  to  his 
recollections  of  his  famous 
grandfather.  The  Chan- 
cellor speaks  proudly  of 
his  daughter's  two  boys, 
the  elder  was  James  Kent 
Stone.  The  Stone  family 
was  living  at  the  time  in 
Brooklyn,    N.    Y.     In     a  CHANCEL 

letter  otherwise  interesting  as  reflecting  the  great 
man's  views  on  religion,  there  occurs  this  passing 
reference  to  Father  Fidelis  and  his  mother:  "My 
wife  who  has  lived  with  me  fifty-seven  years  is  in 
excellent  health  and  spirits  and  daily  visits  her 
Brooklyn  daughter  who  has  two  fine  boys." 

While  Father  Fidelis  was  at  Madison,  N.  J. 
during  the  critical  year  of  1868-69  whither  he  had 
retired  to  study  and  to  pray,  recollection  of  his 
early  days  came  to  his  mind:  "The  country  around 
is  beautiful.  I  knew  something  about  the  region 
from  the  recollections  of  my  childhood.  My  mother's 
parents  had  a  fine  old  place,  not  far  from  here, 
where  we  would  always  go  to  spend  the  summers; 
so  that  my  associations  with  the  New  Jersey  hills 
had  all  the  romance  of  early  memory.  When  I 
came  to  look  around  for  a  place  in  which  to  take  a 
little  breathing  spell  and  do  a  little  quiet  study, 
my  attention  was  naturally  turned  in  this  direction. 
I  am  glad  to  find  that  my  boyish  impressions  were 
not  exaggerated." 


XT  is  regrettable  that  we  have  no   anecdotes 
of  his  relations  with  the  Chancellor.    Though 
he  was  very  young  when  James  Kent  died, 
we  cannot  but  believe  that  from  the  treasures  of 
his  own  memory — he  was  gifted  with  a  marvellous 
memory — and     from     the 
recollections  of  his  mother, 
he    must    have     retained 
clear-cut  impressions  and 
much    information    about 
this  truly  great  and  good 
man. 

In  appearance,  tem- 
perament, and  traits, 
Father  Fidelis  evidently 
favored  the  Kent  side  of 
his  parentage.  We  read 
in  the  introduction  to  the 
"Genealogy  of  the  Kents" 
edited  by  L.  Vernon 
Briggs:  "During  the  dif- 
ferent wars  it  would  seem 
that  every  able-bodied 
man  by  the  name  of  Kent 
was  in  service,  many  as 
officers  and  several  as 
commanders.  The  Kents 
married  young  and  if  they 
were  left  widowers  or 
widows,  usually  married 
again.  All  records  containing  accounts  of  them, 
especially  during  the  Revolution,  describe  them  as 
tall,  usually  six  feet  or  over,  of  fine  physique,  rather 
tending  to  dark  complexions.  Their  characteristics 
were,  I  should  judge,  generosity  almost  to  a  fault, 
keenness  of  perception,  especially  as  to  character 
in  others.  In  disposition  they  were  sympathetic, 
high  tempered,  but  of  good  judgment  and  strong 
believers  in  justice." 

(To   be   Continued) 


Co. 

.LOR  KENT 


Note  : — Persons  possessing  data  on  the 
life  and  work  of  Fr.  Fidelis,  or  letters  from 
him,  are  requested  to  communicate  with 
Very  Rev.  Fr.  Matthias,  C.P.,  c/o  THE 
SIGN. 

Letters  will  be  returned  to  the  owners, 
and  their  ivishes  in  regard  to  the  use  made 
of  the  communications  will  be  respected. 


Breaking  the  Spell 


Violet  O'Connor 


^-— ^HETHER  to  help  herself  to  Lady  Agatha's 
j  1  §  glass  of  port  wine  or  not?  was  the  question 
V^^  which  had  been  troubling  Pamela  Duffield 
ever  since  she  came  to  Roselands,  a 
question  which  all  but  resolved  itself  into  a  definite 
action  one  chilly  July  evening  when  she  found  her- 
self standing  alone  on  the  veranda  beside  the 
supper-tray. 

On  her  arrival,  about  three  months  before,  she 
had  been  asked,  as  all  Dr.  Palmer's  "paying-guests" 
were  asked,  what  she  would  like  to  take  before 
retiring  to  rest?  And  bravely,  unhesitatingly,  she 
had  replied,  "A  bowl  of  bread-and-milk." 
"Not  bovril  or  port-wine?" 
"No,  thank  you.  Bread-and-milk." 
Little  did  anybody  realize  the  new  patient's 
courage  and  consistency!  She  had  been  having 
bread-and  milk  for  supper  every  evening  for  the  last 
two  years,  and  she  was  utterly  sick  of  it,  sick  like- 
wise of  all  the  monotonous  and  unappetising 
cookery  that  went  to  make  up  her  idea  of  the  simple 
life,  lentils,  baked  beans  and  cold  stewed  dates. 
But  above  all  things  Pamela  Duffield  was  loyal  to 
fixed  principles  and  with  her  staunchness  to  a 
sense  of  duty  easily  outweighed  mere  physical 
distaste. 

^\ELIEVING  as  she  did  that  the  world  was 
v|C>J  filled  with  evils  and  cruelties,  and  miseries 
and  inequalities  for  which  no  panacea  had 
yet  been  found,  and  believing  that  she  had  at  last 
discovered  the  one  and  only  remedy  she  resolved 
to  cling  to  it,  no  matter  what  it  cost  her,  until  society 
was  good  and  beautiful  again,  and  everyone  was 
well  and  happy.  That  was,  in  fact  the  reason  why 
she  was  here.  "Nervous  breakdown"  was  only  a 
polite  way  of  referring  to  the  matter. 

Her  easy-going,  perfectly  normal  relations  had 
been  able  to  agree  with  her  that  the  present  state 
of  society  was  unnecessarily  complicated,  and  they 
fully  appreciated  her  generous  desire  to  put  the 
world  to  rights.  They  let  her  talk  to  them  about 
Tolstoy  and  Waldo  Trine.  They  offered  no  objection 
to  her  admiration  for  Edward  Carpenter  and  some 
of  the  most  long-suffering  went  so  far  as  to  listen 
whilst  she  read  extracts  from  her  favourite  books, 


trying  to  teach  them  how  to  "give  out  love"  and 
"to  attract  success." 

^^s^HEY  saw  she  liked  this  kind  of  thing  and 
^/^  that  she  felt  in  sympathy  with  the  peculiar 
manner  in  which  such  subjects  were  treated 
in  her  special  line  of  literature;  although  her  very 
anxiety  to  share  these  epoch-making  discoveries  with 
everyone  she  met,  rather  seemed  to  prove  that  she 
had  not  yet  found  in  them  complete  satisfaction 
and  repose. 

"Material  substances  of  all  kinds,"  she  would 
announce,  "must  only  henceforth  be  regarded  as 
symbols,  symbols  of  our  beautiful  thought-world." 
And  looking  at  the  fire  she  would  exclaim,  "Let 
us  regard  this  as  signifying  Summer-time,  com- 
pressed sunlight.  We  must  be  very  gentle  with  the 
fire." 

ONE  day  a  spark,  from  a  flaming  log,  fell  on 
her  dress  and  burned  a  hole,  and  she  felt 
worried  and  perplexed.  The  theory  was  all 
right,  she  still  declared,  but  she  began  to  fear  that 
she  did  not  quite  know  how  or  where  to  begin, 
to  put  it  into  practice.  Her  headaches  also  troubled 
her.  "You  can  cure  yourself  when  you  are  ill  by 
believing  you  are  well,"  she  assured  her  friends, 
"I  have  done  it  myself  when  I  have  feared  that  I 
had  caught  a  cold;"  reluctantly  admitting,  when  hard 
pressed,  that  the  effort  of  believing  she  had  not 
got  a  cold  when  she  knew  she  had,  gave  her  a 
headache  which  was  infinitely  more  painful  than 
the  original  malady. 

In  the  old-fashioned  conservative  neighborhood 
where  Pamela's  family — a  sporting,  conventional 
family — had  been  well-known  and  much  respected 
for  several  generations,  people  thought  her  nice 
but  eccentric — really  very  odd  indeed!  And  her 
relations  being  sincerely  fond  of  her  put  up  with 
her  queer  ways  for  a  long  time  but  when  it  came 
to  walking  down  the  village  street  with  bare  white 
feet  and  streaming  golden  hair  they  all  felt  it 
incumbent  upon  them  to  remonstrate. 

ANDALS  and  the  absence  of  any  hose  or 
head-gear  in  the  garden  could  be  tolerated 
they  felt,  just  tolerated;  but  for  the  Squire's 


THE  1*  SIGN 


daughter  to  go  dancing  on  the  bit  of  green  near 
the  village  post-office  with  bare  feet  and  garlands 
of  Spring  flowers  in  her  hair  was  impossible,  utterly 
impossible,  unless  she  called  it  "Scenes  from 
Hamlet,"  and  invited  all  her  friends  in  the  county 
to  take  five  shilling  tickets,  and  said  she  did  it 
for  some  charity. 

Her  explanation  that  she  wished  only  to  em- 
phasize the  joy  of  life,  was  deemed  extraordinary 
and  insufficient.  A  conclave  of  matter-of-fact, 
kind-hearted  Aunts  quite  failed  to  follow  her  dis- 
course upon  "The  Cosmic  Consciousness  which 
shall  finally  illuminate  the  human  darkness,  and 
turn  human  vision  from  distorted  shadows  to  the 
contemplation  of  true  objects,  enabling  the  soul  to 
travel  deductively  along  lines  of  right  relation  to 
all  truth."  This,  they  agreed,  was  really  going  too 
far. 

fHE  had  never  been  the  same  since  the  arrival 
of  that  telegram  announcing  the  death  of  a 
beloved  brother  in  France.  The  shock  was 
too  great  for  her  sensitive  brain  they  feared.  They 
had  done  everything  to  comfort  her.  They  had 
declared  a  week  later  that  the  telegram  was  a 
mistake,  that  Charles  had  been  seriously  wounded, 
but  not  killed,  they  assured  her  that  in  course  of 
time  he  would  recover  and  be  sent  home.  Why  did 
they  try  to  deceive  her?     She  piteously  asked. 

Lies  were  no  consolation  in  a  grief  like  hers. 
"We  are  brought  face  to  face  with  great  catas- 
trophes," she  would  exclaim.  "Behold  a  world  in 
ruins!  The  whole  earth  clamouring  for  salvation, 
and  what  can  save  it  except  that  invincible  love 
which  nothing  can  daunt  or  weary,  which  calmly 
and  firmly  makes  straight  for  its  glorious  goal.  It 
is  not  merely  a  question  of  saving  certain  people 
from  their  enemies,  it  is  a  matter  of  saving  both 
people  and  individuals  from  the  enemy  of  the  whole 
human  race — love  must  deny  the  affirmations  of 
mortal  mind." 

,f"VOOR  Pamela!  She  felt  the  real  anguish  of 
|s^/  a  political  situation  which  demanded  not 
speech  but  action.  As  an  outlet  for  her 
feelings  it  was  at  one  time  suggested  that  she  should 
qualify  to  nurse  the  wounded,  but  her  services, 
like  so  many  others  at  that  time,  were  declined. 
After  a  considerable  delay  she  was  informed  that 
a  note  had  been  made  of  her  kind  suggestion,  etc., 
etc.,  like  all  official  letters  this  was  extremely  polite 
and  utterly   disheartening. 


Then  she  had  turned  to  knitting  and  had  got 
everybody  else  to  knit  and  read  aloud  "The  Power 
of  Silence"  to  them  whilst  they  did  so.  But  those 
sewing  meetings  in  the  Parish  room  were  not  a 
great  success:  the  cottage  women  frankly  said  they 
did  not  care  about  the  books  Miss  Duffield  chose. 
And  when  she  heard  herself  described  a  few  weeks 
later  by  the  Post  Mistress  (who  had  been  her 
Grand-mother's  housemaid  in  the  days  gone  by 
and  who  really  ought  to  have  known  better)  as  "the 
poor  young  lady  what  is  off  her  head,"  she  suc- 
cumbed at  once  to  her  elder  sister's  suggestion  of 
a  rest  and  change  of  air. 

z^VERFECT  quiet  for  a  short  period  at  Roselands, 
l^y  under  Dr.  Palmer's  supervision  would  soon  put 
everything  all  right  again,  they  said.  It  would 
also  give  the  gossips  time  to  forget.  Plenty  of  rest, 
plenty  of  food,  and  plenty  of  fresh  air,  was  Dr. 
Palmer's  infallible  prescription  for  nervous  break- 
down. The  first  and  last  his  new  patient  accepted 
willingly:  his  idea  of  physical  nourishment  she 
resolutely  declined. 

Evidently  such  generous  hospitality  was  de- 
signed to  cheer  up  the  invalids,  but  a  sumptuous 
breakfast,  a  hot  luncheon,  a  gorgeous  tea,  and  a  long 
late  dinner  were  no  source  of  joy  to  a  girl  like 
Pamela.  And  that  supper  tray  containing  her  bowl 
of  bread  and  milk,  Mrs.  Tudge's  bovril  and  toast, 
and  Lady  Agatha's  small  piece  of  bread,  and  glass 
of  wine  worried  her  most  of  all.  She  grew  to  dread 
the  sparkle  of  the  glass  and  the  glitter  of  that  well- 
polished  silver  tray,  which  was  so  regularly  placed 
on  a  table  on  the  veranda,  just  before  bed-time, 
by  a  smart  attendant  who  wore  a  gold  cross  hanging 
on  a  chain  round  her  neck. 

aLL  day  it  had  been  a  charming,  wide,  deep, 
warm,  south-west  veranda,  rendered  pleasing 
to  the  eye  by  quantities  of  pink,  climbing 
roses,  and  piles  of  bright  blue  cushions  in  every 
comfortable  wicker  chair:  in  the  evening  time  it 
took  on  a  different  aspect:  it  suddenly  ceased  to 
be  a  beautiful  resting-place  and  became  a  battle- 
field— and  the  fight  took  place  in  Pamela's  own 
mind.  Her  chair  was  no  longer  a  sluggard's  lure, 
it  held  her  spell-bound,  there  was  no  chance  of 
breaking  away,  no  means  of  escape,  from  her  enemy, 
the  enemy  of  doubt. 

Whether  to  help  herself  to  Lady  Agatha's  glass 
of  port  wine  or  not  was  the  question  that  bothered 


THE  +  SIGN 


her.  She  thought  of  the  doctor  and  said,  "No,"  of 
the  other  patients,  "No,"  of  the  opinion  of  the  smart 
attendant,  "No  indeed!"  and  then  the  remembrance 
of  her  loved,  lost  brother,  rushed  back  upon  her, 
overwhelming  her  with  memories  of  his  sympathy 
and  tenderness  and  his  unchanging  affection  for 
herself  and  she  felt  she  simply  must.  "For  his 
sake,"  she  murmured,  "it  is  what  he  always  wished. 
I  have  denied  it  so  often,  but  I  know  in  my  heart 
that  he  was  right." 


appointed,  as  if  she  had  been  longing  for  her  to 
take  the  wine;  but  that  was  on  the  higher  plane, 
of  course,  symbolizing  the  sorrow  of  past  ages  for 
the  want  of  faith  in  the  present  day;  on  the  dead 
level  of  the  actual  plane  on  which  one's  butcher  and 
baker  and  candlestick-maker  live  (and  after  all 
one  has  sometimes  to  be  reasonable,  Pamela 
remarked  to  herself,  even  in  a  mad-house),  it  was 
a  matter  of  common  honesty  not  to  take  that  for 
which  one  did  not  pay. 


QFTER  working  amongst  the  poor  in  the  parish 
at  home  there  had  always  come  an  inevitable 
re-action  Pamela  remembered.  She  used  to 
feel  disappointed,  dissatisfied,  exhausted,  with  no 
idea  of  how  to  resuscitate  her  heart  and  soul.  When 
there  was  some  domestic  tragedy  in  the  village  and 
she  heard  that  her  neighbours  stood  in  need  of 
comfort,  she  had  always  known  that  she  could  give 
it,  but  she  also  knew  that  it  would  take  too  much 
out  of  her. 

The  price  she  paid  on  these  occasions  was 
wholly  inadequate  to  the  service  rendered,  on  a 
par,  in  fact,  with  that  tremendous  headache  which 
she  gave  herself  by  solemnly  affirming  that  she  had 
not  caught  a  cold.  "World-consciousness"  she 
called  it,  without  exactly  knowing  what  she  meant. 
She  had  read  widely,  quickly,  rashly,  not  perhaps 
deeply,  and  had  consequently  got  rather  out  of  her 
depth. 

Occasionally  there  came  a  flash  of  genuine 
illumination  and  always  she  meant  well.  Never 
had  she  meant  so  well  as  on  that  chilly  summer 
evening  when  she  found  herself  alone  on  the  veranda 
with  the  silver  tray  and  its  contents,  and  tried  to 
make  up  her  mind  whether  she  ought  or  ought  not 
to  drink  Lady  Agatha's  glass  of  wine  before  that 
venerable  patient  should  appear  to  claim  it. 

II. 

^^^•MiE  first  attempt  was  a  failure.  Just  as  her 
a  CA  fingers  were  about  to  close  around  the  stem 
^^^V  of  that  wine-glass  a  slight  cough  and  the 
rustle  of  old-fashioned  petticoats  warned 
Pamela  Duffield  of  Lady  Agatha's  approach, 
frightening  her  into  hesitation,  and  doomed  to 
postponement  the  desperate,  fateful  action.  Then 
through  the  open  French  window  stepped  the 
beautiful  old  lady,  with  her  kind  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
other's  face. 

She  looked  funny,  Pamela  thought,  rather  dis- 


eCCl 
to  the  very  last  degree,"  some  of  her  relations 
had  unhesitatingly  declared  after  failing  to 
persuade  her  that  a  grown-up  person  cannot  walk 
abroad  with  unshod  feet,  and  hair,  however  beauti- 
ful, falling  to  her  knees.  "It  gives  a  false  impres- 
sion," they  had  repeated,  and  Pamela  had  looked 
surprised,  and  wondered  why  it  should.  But  for 
all  her  long  loose  hair,  and  small  white  feet,  she 
was  honest  as  the  day,  and  generous  to  a  fault. 

So  far  from  being  an  adept  in  crime,  klepto- 
mania had  never  ranked  amongst  her  little  eccentri- 
cities, this  supper  table  episode  was,  in  fact,  the 
first  occasion  in  all  her  life  on  which  she  had  been 
tempted  to  touch  anything  that  belonged  to  another, 
and  it  was  the  very  unusualness  of  the  situation 
which  caused  her  to  start  and  flush  when  the 
owner's  preliminary  rustlings  announced  the  advent 
of  her  presence  on  the  scene. 

Y^\AMELA  always  thought  of  Lady  Agatha  as 
ls^/  a  dear  old  thing  and  would  not  have  injured 
her  for  the  world;  but  in  this  matter  she 
somehow  felt  driven  on,  as  if  she  could  not  help 
herself.  Her  mind  was  vigorously  at  work.  She 
saw  her  action  in  two  lights:  as  an  acceptation  of 
Lady  Agatha's  view  of  life,  and  also  as  plain  theft. 
Just  at  the  moment  of  the  old  lady's  appearance 
it  stood  out  remarkably  clearly,  simply  as  theft. 

She  managed  to  hide  her  confusion  by  stooping 
to  pick  up  the  white  shawl  which  fell  from  the 
sloping  shoulders.  Lady  Agatha  belonged  to  a 
generation  whose  shoulders  inevitably  sloped.  "She 
was  the  sort  of  woman  who  had  become  elderly  at 
thirty-five,"  Mrs.  Tudge  said  bitterly,  and  she  con- 
veyed the  impression  of  having  worn  this  shawl 
or  a  shawl  exactly  like  it  for  close  on  half  a  century. 
Lady  Agatha  would  undoubtedly  have  pre- 
ferred a  table  by  the  fire  and  the  door  shut,  but 
Dr.  Palmer  considered  it  good  for  all  his  paying- 


THE  +  SIGN 


guests  to  be  in  the  outer  air  as  much  as  possible, 
and  as  an  example  to  Mrs.  Tudge  and  Miss  Duffield, 
she  obeyed  him  loyally,  sitting  for  many  hours  a 
day  on  her  balcony  sewing  and  reading;  and  Pamela, 
who  occupied  the  next  bedroom  used  to  take  a 
great  interest  in  watching  her  movements  through 
the  adjoining  window. 
Virginia  creeper  cover- 
ed the  glass  roof. 


XT  must  be  lovely 
on  that  balcony 
in  Autumn, 
Pamela  thought.  Some- 
times she  decided  to 
go  away  for  a  while 
and  come  back  when 
she  could  have  Lady 
Agatha's  room.  She 
would  feel  more  con- 
tented if  she  could  have 
that  room,  that  homely, 
friendly-looking  room, 
with  its  vases  of  flowers 
and  shelves  of  books, 
and  tables  covered  with 
baskets  of  colored  silks 
and  Church  embroidery. 
If  Lady  Agatha 
was  as  old  as  she 
looked,  as  old  as  Mrs. 
Tudge  declared,  how 
could  she  see  to  em- 
broider? That  puzzled 
Pamela.  Also  she 
puzzled  over  whether 
Lady  Agatha  was  a 
patient  or  only  an  old 
friend  of  the  Doctor. 
Or  perhaps  both.  Any- 
how    he      seemed      to 

understand  her.  Every  morning  she  used  to  have 
a  long  talk  with  him  up  in  her  room,  and  then  she 
scarcely  spoke  a  word  to  anybody  else  for  the 
remainder  of  the  day;  but  Pamela  felt  it  was  not 
the  deliberate  silence  of  disapproval,  or  the  silence 
which  comes  from  a  lack  of  interest  in  one's  fellow 
creatures:  it  was  distinctly  felt  to  be  a  kindly 
silence. 

Pamela  remarked  to  Mrs.  Tudge,  "I  sometimes 
fancy,  that  somehow  Lady  Agatha  is  in  pain,  and 


Roof: 


Mary  Dodge  Ten  Eyck 

High  on  a  peak  o'er  the  city\ 
The  sun  sinking  down  in  a  glow 
Gleaming  pastel  shades   on  the  roofs 
Over  thousands  of  homes  below 

Roofs,  burnished  tile  of  tke  wealthy, 
Tall  chimneys  pierce  haughty1  on  high; 
Symbols  of  towering  ambitions 
Whose  avarice  mounts  to  the  sky. 

Tin  roofs  of  the  tenement  houses; 
Flattened  hopes  crushed  down  to  the  heart 
Merciless  elements  tinge  them, 
They  are  bruised  v?ith  poverty's  dart. 

Gray  roofs  of  the  mid-rank  masses, 
Some  patched  with  neat  squares  of  gold; 
Blue  gables,  dark  slopes,  bright  pitches, 
Rise  and  fall  like  lives  of  the  bold. 

The  pastel  roofs  of  the  city! 
Soft,  beauteous,  housing  with  love 
The  millions  of  God's  own  children, 
NIeath  His  vJide  vaulted  roof  above. 


has  made  a  firm  resolution  never  to  complain  to 
anybody.  I  feel  it.  And  I  love  her  although  she 
has  hardly  ever  spoken  to  me — because  she  has 
hardly  ever  spoken  to  me  I  mean.  It  makes  me  feel 
she  is  50  good.  The  rhythm  of  the  ether  is  a 
vibration  so  intense  as  to  be  stillness  compared 
with  other  vibrations, 
you  know,  and  the 
nearer  we  get  to  the 
Source  of  Life  the  more 
intense  will  be  our  con- 
sciousness of  silence." 
"Rubbish!"  said 
Mrs.  Tudge,  "You  don't 
know  what  you  are 
talking  about.  She's  a 
;illy,  selfish  old  cat,  and 
I  hate  her."  Mrs. 
Tudge's  violent  pre- 
judices made  it  difficult 
for  Pamela — for  any- 
one— to  converse  with 
her. 

"There's  a  useless 
life  for  you,"  she  ex- 
claimed one  day  at 
luncheon,  pointing  at 
Lady  Agatha,  and 
speaking  as  if  she  were 
deaf  as  well  as  dumb. 
"The  heartless 
rich,"  was  one  of  her 
frequent  themes,  "They 
ought  to  sell  their 
jewelry,  and  give  their 
property  to  the  State, 
and  build  almshouses, 
endow  hospitals,  and 
improve  the  conditions 
of  the  working-classes, 
give  them  bathrooms, 
and  rest-roms  and — " 

"Form  a  school  of  silence  and  higher  thought," 
suggested  Pamela  eagerly,  "teach  them  to  find  the 
way  to  health,  joy,  wisdom,  peace  and  love.  I 
have  always  clung  to  the  belief  that  there  must  be 
some  interior  way  of  finding  'Reality,'  some  process, 
simple,  piercing,  profound,  that  should  have 
authority  for  all  the  world.  I  believe  that  by 
eliminating  certain  foods  and  drinks  out  of  our  daily 
regime  of  diet,  we  can  spiritualize  our  bodies,  and 


THE  +  SIGN 


enter  into  a  realm  of  peace,  calm,  and  joy,  of  which 
the  ordinary  person  is  entirely  unconscious." 

EOR  the  moment  Pamela  had  forgotten  to  whom 
she  was  speaking  and  rushed  on  enthusiastic- 
ally with  her  favorite  subject. 

"Don't  let  us  make  the  mistake  of  complicating 
their  beautiful,  simple,  lives,  let  us  rather  teach  the 
working-classes  how  to  need  even  less." 

Mrs.  Tudge  stared  at  her  with  undisguished 
contempt. 

"No  wonder  your  friends  sent  you  here,"  she 
said  rudely. 

"If  you'd  listen  to  me  I  could  teach  you.  What 
everyone  wants  is  money  and  money's  worth,  'more 
meat,  more  money,  and  less  men,'  that's  my  motto. 
The  world  must  be  ruled  by  women  and  every  woman 
must  be  free  to  do  as  she  likes." 

"And  if  she  doesn't  want  to,  make  her,"  put 
in  Pamela,  laughing,  "that's  what  Punch  would  say." 

It  was  a  hopeful  sign  that  she  laughed,  the 
attendant  thought.  She  had  noticed  that  the  patients 
who  laughed  most  left  soonest,  and  with  kindly 
tact  she  set  the  new  copy  of  Punch  each  week  on 
the  top  of  the  pile  of  magazines  beside  Miss 
Duffield's  chair.  There  were  other  comic  papers 
from  which  Dawson  and  her  fellow  maids  derived 
considerable  amusement  in  the  servants'  hall  but 
having,  as  she  explained,  lived  exclusively  in  the 
best  families  she  knew  that  a  lady  like  Lady  Agatha 
would  tolerate  nothing  funnier  than  Punch  in  the 
drawing-room. 

^^^HEY  were  three  stubborn  cases,  Dawson 
%/y  thought,  and  Mrs.  Tudge  was  far  and  away 
the  worst.  What  was  the  matter  with  her  was 
nasty  temper,  and  the  doctor  knew  it  and  no  wonder 
her  husband  had  gone  off  to  Australia  to  get  out 
of  her  way;  she  hated  all  recognized  customs  and 
all  existing  laws,  and  was  a  public  danger — safer 
under  lock  and  key. 

The  chief  thing  the  matter  with  Miss  Duffield 
was  that  she  wanted  to  be  too  good,  impossibly  good. 
No  one  in  this  world  or  the  next  had  ever  been 
as  good  as  Miss  Duffield  wanted  to  be,  according 
to  Dawson. 

Lady  Agatha  was  a  lady  and  knew  how  to 
behave  as  such.  Anyone  who  had  lived  with  the 
aristocracy  could  see  that  at  a  glance.  And  if  she 
was  a  bit  queer  at  times,  well  she  was  old,  and  it 
might  be  left  at  that.  Dr.  Palmer  thought  very 
highly  of  her,  and  enjoyed  chatting  with  her  and 


discussing  books.  Lady  Agatha  was  always  order- 
ing books  and  receiving  parcels  by  post,  and  leaving 
the  contents  lying  about  in  the  public  rooms ;  Dawson 
guessed  why;  but  Pamela  was  not  curious:  she 
never  opened  them. 

OR.  PALMER  had  once  asked  her  "Do  you 
read  any  of  Lady  Agatha's  books?"  when 
she  spoke  to  him  about  concentration,  vibra- 
tions, fixed  ideas,  linking-up,  and  the  value  of 
definitely  chosen  thoughts  arranged  in  a  sort  of 
routine.  At  the  time  his  remark  had  seemed  irrele- 
vant as  did  his  explanation :  "I  was  thinking  of  your 
brother."  Later  on  it  suddenly  dawned  upon  her 
what  he  meant,  and  as  she  turned  her  eyes  in  the 
direction  of  the  book-table  a  long-drawn  "0!" 
escaped  her  lips.  She  could  do  no  more  on  that 
occasion  than  read  the  titles,  her  eyes  were  so  full 
of  tears. 

Another  day  she  opened  one  and  read  a  few 
sentences  and  the  thought  of  Charles  and  what  he 
would  have  wished  nearly  overpowered  her.  "Tom 
Sedley  from  Charlie  Duffield,"  was  written  on  the 
title  page  of  one  of  them,  in  a  school  boy's  hand. 
How  well  Pamela  remembered  that  writing  and  that 
friend!  How  often  Charles  had  spoken  to  her  of 
Tom  and  his  mother  and  all  their  kindness  to  him, 
not  only  in  Rome,  during  his  College  Beda  days,  but 
years  afterwards  when  he  was  given  charge  of  a 
Mission  in  England. 

QAMELA  had  never  met  the  Sedleys  never 
perhaps  wanted  to  till  now  when  they  stood 
for  a  link  with  the  beloved  dead.  Perhaps 
she  used  secretly  to  blame  them  for  her  brother's 
extraordinary  mistake.  It  was  to  the  influence  of  the 
Sedleys  soon  after  he  left  school,  that  his  mistake 
was  undoubtedly  attributable. 

She  had  always  been  devoted  to  Charles  he 
was  her  own  special  brother,  the  nearest  to  her  in 
age  of  a  large  family,  and  whilst  she  considered 
him  in  the  wrong  she  nevertheless  admired  his  con- 
sistency. His  life  on  earth  had  seemed  to  her  a 
whimsical,  boyish  affair,  hardly  serious,  but  certainly 
complete;  and  she,  who  was  like  him  in  so  many 
ways,  knew  where  the  differences  lay. 

He  was  unsatisfied,  whilst  she  was  dissatisfied. 
He  wondered  happily  over  things  that  puzzled  and 
distressed  her.  And  sometimes  she  began  to  doubt 
whether  after  all  she  was  looking  in  the  right 
direction  for  the  solution  of  the  difficulties  that 
retarded  the  growth  of  her  soul. 


THE  f  SIGN 


She  knew  that  he  had  arrived  at  a  stage  where 
he  satisfied  others  as  well  as  himself  whilst  she 
was  still  desiring  to  give  to  others  a  something 
which  she  had  not  yet  received.  She  did  not  know 
that  her  brother  had  understood  exactly  what  it  was 
she-  lacked. 

aFTER  seeing  his  name  in  that  book  on  the 
drawing-room  table  she  felt  it  was  more 
necessary  than  ever  to  accept  the  symbols 
offered  to  her  each  evening  on  the  supper-tray.  At 
home  she  had  denied  it,  refused  it,  rejected  it,  but 
here  in  Roselands  (call  it  Roselands,  as  Dr.  Palmer 
did,  politely  if  you  like,  or  simply  say  placed  under 
restraint,  as  Mrs.  Tudge  had  no  hesitation  in  doing), 
here  anyhow  she  clearly  saw  that  her  brother's  life 
and  death  pointed  that  way. 

Before  leaving  home  she  had  been  certain  she 
was  right.  Now  she  doubted  it.  It  was  not  Mrs. 
Tudge,  nothing  that  she  had  rudely  said  had  con- 
vinced Pamela  of  anything,  and  Lady  Agatha  had 
hardly  spoken  a  word.  Yet  it  was  the  silent  old 
lady  who  had  wrought  the  change — she  and  her 
supper.  Pamela  wanted  to  share  the  secret  of  that 
sweet  radiance  that  was  part  of  Lady  Agatha's  old 
age. 

Her  two  companions  appeared  to  Pamela  as  the 
two  voices,  good  and  evil.  Mrs.  Tudge  was  repre- 
sented by  bovril,  Lady  Agatha  by  bread  and  wine. 
Pamela's  mind  was  still  troubled.  She  saw  it  like 
that.  Everything  she  saw  or  heard  or  did,  at  this 
particular  period  of  her  life,  partook  of  a  mystical 
significance.  Various  exquisite  meanings  and  per- 
ceptions sprang  from  it  in  all  directions,  with  the 
sense  of  infinite  expansion. 


CI 


'VERYTHING  presented  itself  so  insistently 
as  a  symbol  that  she  had  lost  all  power  to 
estimate  or  appreciate  the  thing  itself.  Yet 
even  as  a  thing,  before  she  joined  the  Galsworthy 
Crusade,  bovril  had  never  appealed  to  her  imagina- 
tion. Nowadays  the  very  sight  of  it  conjured  up 
visions  of  over-driven  cattle,  scenes  of  heartless 
cruelty  at  the  docks,  and  unjustifiable  animal  suffer- 
ing on  board  ship. 

In  one  of  these  pamphlets  published  by  the 
S.  P.  C.  A.  she  had  once  read  something  about  a 
poor  cow  with  its  horn  broken,  which  made  her 
feel  so  sick  with  pity  and  remorse  that  she  never 
touched  meat  again. 

Translating    everything    she    saw    into    wider 


terms,  and  interpreting  it  according  to  a  precon- 
ceived idea,  and  a  fixed  standard  of  her  own,  she 
said  unhesitatingly  that  Mrs.  Tudge's  cup  of  bovril 
stood  for  cruelty  and  pain  and  death;  whilst  her  own 
bowl  of  bread  and  milk  signified  simplicity  and 
peace  of  mind  and  human  kindness.  What  the 
other  patients  had  replied  the  first  time  Pamela 
made  her  angry  is  not  quite  suitable  for  repetition. 

^w^RS.  TUDGE  suffered  from  an  unusually  hasty 
1^1  M  temper  and  a  drastic  mode  of  speech.  Later 
on,  if  she  were  no  longer  seriously  annoyed, 
"it  was"  she  assured  her  opponent,  "because  she  had 
no  patience  with  such  fools  and  considered  all  Miss 
Duffield's  views  on  life  utterly  beneath  contempt." 

So  they  sat  there  day  by  day,  those  friendless 
women,  who  were  not  able  to  make  friends;  for,  as 
Pamela  said  to  herself,  all  conversation  becomes 
impossible  when  one  member  of  the  party  says 
nothing,  and  the  other  lays  down  the  law  about 
Government,  slavery,  the  position  of  women,  the 
need  for  Church  reform,  etc.,  etc.,  and  contradicts 
everything  I  say  about  the  simple  life. 

After  a  while  Mrs.  Tudge  would  rise  declaring 
"she  was  getting  chilly,"  ("getting  the  worst  of  the 
argument,"  Pamela  thought),  and  hurry  off  for  a 
brisk  walk  around  the  garden.  Then  Lady  Agatha 
would  get  chilly  too  and  move  indoors  to  the 
drawing-room  where  there  was  a  fire,  and  Pamela 
was  left  on  the  veranda  alone  to  await  the  coming 
of  the  tray.  The  bringing  of  it  seemed  to  her  a 
solemn  ceremony  with  an  insistent  meaning. 

gLL  that  she  had  so  long  and  so  vehemently 
denied  was  now  epitomized  and  symbolized 
by  Lady  Agatha's  supper.  Here  was  some- 
thing that  insisted  on  a  recognition — the  initial 
point  of  these  high  mysteries  —  something  that 
reproached  her,  there  was  no  getting  away  from  it 
deny  it  as  she  would  it  returned  unfailingly  to  bother 
her  night  after  night.  It  stood  for  something  belong- 
ing to  the  dark  ages. 

She  shrank  from  the  very  thought  of  what  it 
was,  "there  is  no  need,"  she  had  protested  always 
vehemently  and  whilst  her  heart  said  Pain  is  an  evil, 
an  unmitigated  evil,  to  be  pitied  and  cured,  to  try 
to  prevent  herself  from  dwelling  on  the  idea  she 
constantly  repeated:  "There  is  no  such  thing  as 
suffering  it  is  all  a  mere  delusion  of  mortal  mind." 

"There  is  and  let  them  suffer"  was  the  heartless 
attitude  which  Mrs  Tudge  took  up. 


THE  +  SIGN 


"There  is  and  let  us  accept  it  as  the  safest 
way"  was  what  Lady  Agatha  had  once  so  bravely, 
so  inspiringly  replied. 

"Tell  me  what  you  believe  about  suffering?" 
Pamela  had  asked  her  suddenly  one  day,  and  with- 
out a  moment's  hesitation,  not  appearing  to  be  at 
all  surprised,  rather  as  if  she  were  thoroughly 
familiar  with  the  thought,  Lady  Agatha  answered 
calmly,  "I  believe  it  is  the  safest  way." 

"But  not  the  way  for  me,"  thought  Pamela,  I 
cannot  accept  it.  Something  always  crops  up  to 
prevent  me.  I  simply  can't.  I  am  held  back.  If  I 
could  only  once  break  free  and  acknowledge  suffer- 
ing as  the  safest  way  as  Lady  Agatha  does — as 
Charles  did — I  believe  all  the  rest  of  my  difficulties 
would  fall  into  position  and  disappear. 

She  was  not  happy.  This  very  uncertainty 
involved  real  suffering.  Suffering!  The  very  thing 
from  which  she  shrank,  the  idea  of  which  she  so 
strongly  disapproved.  She  had  gone  further  than 
disapproval,  she  had  denied  the  existence  of  suffer- 


ing as   absolutely  foreign   to   the   intention  of   the 

Creator. 

Already  she  believed  everyone  possessed  all  good 

and  there  was  no  need  for  Grace,  no  use  for  pain, 

yet  night  after  night  the  sacramental  system  as  an 

alternative  was  placed  before  her,  and  the  attendant's 

very  gold  ornament  seemed  to  point  the  way. 

Bread  and  wine  were  the  admitted  symbols  of 
sacrifice.  They  recalled  not  only  the  Priest 
Melchisedech  in  the  Old  Testament,  they  spoke  of 
submission  to  authority  in  the  New.  They  preached 
obedience  even  unto  the  death  of  the  Cross,  with 
the  added  humiliation  of  Pilate's  judgment  hall. 
Choose!  Choose!  cried  the  gold  cross  hanging 
from  the  attendant's  neok,  each  evening  as  she 
carried  out  the  tray.  You  want  truth.  You  are  not 
bound.  You  are  free,  and  you  must  use  your  own 
free  will  to  choose. 

What  a  fight  it  was !  Poor  Pamela !  She  knew 
that  her  enemy  was  herself.  Yet  all  the  time  of  the 
struggle  she  also  knew  at  the  back  of  her  mind  that 
if  He  conquered  she  won. 


(To  be  concluded) 


e 


fACH  Lent  the  vast  nave  of  the  Cathedral  of 
Notre  Dame  in  Paris  is  filled  with  throngs 
eager  to  hear  the  most  popular  preacher  in 
France.  For  years  this  distinction  has  fallen  to  the 
celebrated  Dominican,  Pere  Janvier.  The  London 
Times  describes  this  fervent  apostle  in  action. 

At  30  he  had  attained  a  wide  celebrity,  though  no 
more  for  the  force  and  ardour  of  his  eloquence  than 
for  the  rugged  sincerity  with  which  he  used  to  direct 
his  penitents.  On  Palm  Sunday  he  dealt  with 
"Modesty  and  Fashionable  Amusements." 

He  begins  by  condemning  the  Puritans,  the 
Jansenists,  who  banished  from  human  existence, 
which  they  made  "desperate  and  insupportable,  all 
relaxation,  mirth,  expansion  of  the  soul."  Such 
restrictions  are  inevitably  followed  by  terrible 
reactions  of  intemperance. 

Is  life,  then,  to  be  given  to  nothing  but  amuse- 
ment? The  preacher  grows  animated,  heated,  his 
metallic  accents  clang  as  he  denounces  "those 
worldings  who  pass  from  drawing-room  to  drawing- 
room,  from  club  to  club,  from  banquet  to  banquet," 
with  no  thought  in  their  minds  but  of  frivolity  and 
folly;  "useless  creatures,  scandalous  creatures,  oc- 
casions of  wrath,  of  revolt,  of  exasperation,  a  public 


outrage  to  the  dignity  of  the  human  race;"  in  periods 
of  majestic  violence  he  castigates  the  culpable 
vacuity  of  their  existence,  the  scandal  of  their  false- 
hood and  libertinage,  while  his  expressive  hands, 
rising  and  falling  with  the  waves  of  his  indignation, 
seem  to  clutch  these  same  worldings,  to  clasp  and 
squeeze  them,  to  raise  them  aloft,  and  then  to  hurl 
them  down  among  the  raised,  listening  faces  down 
into  the  avenging  flames  that  are  the  portion  prom- 
ised to  the  rich  who  are  evil  livers. 

Having  dealt  with  the  men  of  the  world,  he 
turns  to  the  women.  A  biting  irony  now  sounds  in 
his  tone  as  he  lashes  the  importunate  display  of 
feminine  fashions.  "Miserable  creatures!"  he  cries; 
"will  you  be  content,  in  your  latter  days,  to  array 
yourselves  in  poverty,  in  ugliness,  in  decrepitude?" 

Then  this  avenging,  inquisitorial  vehemence 
returns  to  a  calm  sobriety,  serene  vigour,  and  with 
a  melancholy  sweetness  Pere  Janvier  concludes,  in 
the  words  of  Job: — 

"They  take  the  timbrel  and  harp,  and  rejoice 
at  the  sound  of  the  organ. 

"They  spend  their  days  in  wealth,  and  in  a 
moment  go  down  to  the  grave." 


The   Labor   Problem 

Rev.  R.  A.  McGowan 
IV. — Labor   Legislation 


S^^HE  welfare  of  the  working  people  of  the 
M  t\  United  States  is  not  being  secured.  To 
^^^^  secure  it  the  working  people  need  the  help 
of  the  national,  state  and  city  governments. 
Government  ought  to  come  to  the  rescue  because 
governments  exist,  first  of  all,  for  the  welfare  of  all 
the  people  and  the  working  people  form  a  large, 
important,  and  needy  section  of  the  people. 

Pope  Leo  XIII.  laid  down  a  general  principle 
in  regard  to  government  help  in  his  Encyclical  "On 
the  Condition  of  Labor."  He  said :  "Whenever  the 
general  interest  or  any  particular  class  suffers  or  is 
threatened  wih  mischief  which  can  in  no  other  way 
be  met  or  prevented,  the  public  authority  must  step 
in  and  deal  with  it."  And  to  make  the  point  more 
explicit  he  goes  on  to  say  that  "when  there  is 
question  of  defending  the  rights  of  individuals,  the 
poor  and  helpless  have  a  special  claim  to  considera- 
tion." "The  richer  class,"  he  says,  "have  many 
ways  of  shielding  themselves  and  stand  less  in  need 
of  help  from  the  State,  whereas  those  who  are  badly 
off  have  no  resources  of  their  own  to  fall  back  upon, 
and  must  depend  chiefly  upon  the  assistance  of  the 
State." 

Whenever  a  law  is  proposed  which  will  benefit 
the  working  people  the  cry  instantly  goes  up  that 
it  is  class  legislation.  There  is  much  hypocrisy  in 
this.  A  great  deal  of  the  opposition  arises  from 
those  who  are  not  gaining  by  the  legislation  and 
may  stand  to  lose.  It  depends,  indeed,  on  what  class 
is  benefited  by  the  legislation. 

V»^E  have  always  had  class  legislation  and  we 
\l/  will  continue  to  have  it  because  people  are 
divided  into  classes.  Legislation  helping 
manufacturers  is  class  legislation.  Legislation  help- 
ing farmers  is  class  legislation.  There  are  many 
laws  helping  both  classes.  Men  and  women  do 
certain  kinds  of  work.  If  the  general  welfare  is  to 
be  secured  the  interests  of  men  at  work  in  certain 
occupations  must  be  cared  for,  because  the  welfare 
of  men  and  their  families  depends  in  large  part 
upon  the  conditions  met  while  at  work.  Class  legis- 
lation merely  recognizes  this  fact  and  acts  accord- 
ingly. 


That  the  welfare  of  the  people  working  in  in- 
dustry is  not  being  cared  for  goes  without  saying. 
Unemployment,  low  wages,  unnecessary  accidents, 
industrial  diseases — such  physical  evils  are  known 
to  exist.  The  time  has  come  in  this  country  when 
working  people  have  no  longer  the  laws  on  free 
land  to  rely  upon,  and  millions  under  the  usual  run 
of  things  will  live  out  their  lives  without  owning 
the  means  of  their  work  and  livelihood. 

The  ordinary  method  employees  use  to  secure 
a  livelihood  for  themselves  and  their  families  is  the 
labor  union.  It  has  been  a  great  help  to  them.  But 
it  is  a  well-known  fact  that  regardless  of  how  much 
good  the  labor  union  has  done  it  has  not  given  to  all 
industrial  employees  in  the  United  States  either 
the  certainty  that  they  will  always  have  work,  or 
a  decent  livelihood  from  their  work. 

^^^HE  modern  labor  union  movement  dates  in 
I  J  this  country  from  the  late  seventies  and 
eighties.  The  labor  union  movement  as  now 
known  dates  from  the  middle  of  the  eighties.  It 
did  not  grow  much  however  until  about  twenty 
years  ago.  During  the  past  twenty  years  it  is  pro- 
bable that  wages  have  not  gone  up  when  measured 
by  the  cost  of  living.  They  may  have  even  declined. 
Now,  as  then,  we  have  periods  of  unemployment. 
The  unemployment  of  1920-22  is  not  milder  than 
the  unemployment  of  1914  or  1907  or  1896.  Work- 
ing people  are  no  surer  of  keeping  their  jobs. 

So,  while  the  union  is  needed  and  while  work- 
ing people  hold  fast  to  the  union,  they  know  that 
they  need  something  more.  They  know  that  a 
particular  class  is  suffering  and  is  threatened  with 
mischief.  They  know  that  they  are  that  class.  And 
so,  though  some  are  half  despairing,  and  though 
others  are  deadly  indifferent,  and  though  many  are 
still  hoping  that  their  unions  can  provide  them  with 
all  or  nearly  all  that  they  need,  there  is  a  turn 
towards  asking  help  from  the  government. 

The  Bishops'  Program  of  Social  Reconstruction 
issued  by  the  Administrative  Committee  of  the 
National  Catholic  War  Council  recognized  the  need 
of  labor  legislation,  and  proposed  several  laws  for 
the  advantage  and  welfare  of  the  working  people. 


THE  +  SIGN 


This   program   in   its   entirety   has   received   warm 
praise  from  even  non-Catholics. 


© 


HE  proposed  legal  measures  of  the  Bishops' 
Program  are  the  following: 

A  Federal  Employment  Service 
A  National  Labor  Board 
Public    Housing 
Minimum  Wage  Laws 
Social  Insurance  Laws 
Safety  and  Sanitation  Laws 
Municipal  Clinics 
Vocational  Education 
Child  Labor  Laws 

Still  other  proposals  of  immediate  moment  are 
found  in  the  Bishops'  Program,  such  as  the  right 
of  the  workers  to  organize,  the  advantages  of  higher 


than  living  wages,  workers'  participation  in  indus- 
trial management,  co-operative  societies,  high  excess 
profits,  inheritance  and  income  taxes,  copartnership, 
co-operative  production,  etc. 

But  the  point  here  is  that  certain  laws  of  im- 
mediate application  are  recommended  by  the 
Bishops'  Program  as  a  part  of  the  course  of  social 
reconstruction  which  we  are  to  run  if  the  labor 
problem  is  to  be  solved.  Some  are  to  be  passed 
by  cities,  others  by  states,  and  still  others  by  the 
Federal  Government.  They  are  needed  to  protect 
the  working  people  from  the  wrongs  they  now  suffer. 

They  are  not,  however,  to  be  held  up  as  a 
cure-all.  Social  legislation  is  only  of  partial  worth. 
But  its  worth  is  real,  and  the  sufferings  of  the  un- 
employed and  of  large  numbers  of  the  employed 
are  real,  too.  The  advantages  that  come  from  social 
legislation  should  not  be  let  slip  from  us. 


Harnessing 


^^^HE  British  Government  has  granted  conces- 
^/^  sions  to  Jewish  interests  allowing  water  rights 
in  Palestine  for  purposes  of  irrigation  and 
electrification.  Although  sharply  opposed  by  the 
English  press,  the  promoters  have  undertaken  the 
preliminary  operations.  "The  stimulus  which 
Palestine  industry  will  derive  from  the  realization 
of  the  great  irrigation  and  electrification  project," 
says  The  New  Palestine,  "will  be  powerful  aid  to 
a  large  Jewish  immigration,  the  one  substantial 
factor  rendering  possible  the  early  establishment  of 
the  Jewish  national  home."  In  Palestine  Nature 
follows  her  law  of  compensation  and  in  the  lack  of 
ordinary  fuel  supplies  considerable  water  resources, 
commonly  called  "white  coal."  While  the  average 
rainfall  equals  that  of  European  countries,  it  occurs 
mostly  in  winter.  To  be  practically  utilized,  there- 
fore, it  must  be  collected  and  stored.  The  first  step 
in  carrying  out  the  project  is  the  utilization  of  a 
part  of  the  fall  of  the  Jordan  below  Lake  Tiberias 
for  the  production  of  electrical  energy. 

Lake  Tiberias  is  a  huge,  natural  storage  reser- 
voir of  an  area  of  170  square  kilometers  where  only 
a  small  dam  is  necessary  to  make  available  a 
quantity  of  water  which  with  its  fall  is  capable  of 
producing  more  energy  than  Palestine  at  present 
requires.  The  Arabs  are  not  enthusiastic  over  this 
encroachment  of  modern  industry  upon  their  pastoral 
life,  nor  are  they  convinced  that  it  will  enhance  their 


the  Jordan 

happiness.  Their  national  paper  El  Karmel  object- 
ing to  the  draining  of  a  swamp  near  Ceasarea 
remarks  that  this  area  is  inhabited  by  several 
hundred  bedouins  who  breed  cattle  there  and 
develop  the  important  industry  of  plaiting  mats 
and  baskets,  using  the  undergrowth  for  the  purpose. 
The  Government  claiming  to  have  sanitation  as  its 
motive,  El  Karmel  rejoins:  "our  answer  is  that  we 
have  lived  for  hundreds  and  thousands  of  years  with 
the  swamp  as  it  is  now,  and  we  have  the  evidence 
of  Lord  Northcliffe  that  we  were  happier  before 
the  war." 

Mr.  Kamel  El-Dajani,  president  of  the  Haifa 
Chamber  of  Commerce,  thus  defines  the  opposition 
to  Zionist  plans  for  colonization:  "We  people  of 
Palestine  harbor  no  grudge  against  the  Jews.  We 
have  no  animosity  toward  our  old  Palestine  fellow- 
citizens,  nor  against  the  righteous  Jewish  immigrant 
who  comes  ready  for  the  earnest  work  of  coloniza- 
tion. But  the  majority  of  the  Jewish  immigrants 
who  have  entered  the  country  since  the  armistice  are 
little  intent  on  quiet,  peaceful  agricultural  activities. 
All  they  bring  with  them  is  their  Socialist  outlook 
upon  life.  .  .  .  True  Bolshivists  of  Trotzky's  and 
Lenine's  school,  they  demonstratively  parade  their 
disregard  and  contempt  for  the  religious  rites  of 
all  confessions  represented  in  Palestine,  not  least 
of  their  own  Jewish  coreligionists." 


monism    in    Palestine 


^^^>HE  Peace  Conference  had  its  abandoned 
M  Cj  children,  the  Irish,  the  Egyptians,  the 
^^^^^  Hindoos,  the  Catholic  populations  incorp- 
orated in  Jugo-Slavia  and  in  Czecko- 
Slovakia;  it  had  its  favored  children,  the  Jews. 
Of  the  concessions  that  were  made  to  the  latter, 
some  were  quite  legitimate;  others,  such  as  those 
which  had  to  do  with 
Zionism,  were  unworthy 
and  full  of  peril.  Without 
being  in  any  sense  of  the 
term  an  anti-Semite,  it  is 
only  necessary  to  open 
one's  eyes  to  see  that  the 
foundation  of  a  national 
Jewish  home  in  Palestine, 
such  as  now  appears  in 
reality  and  practice,  en- 
croaches on  the  legitimate 
rights  of  Catholics  of  the 
entire  world  and  creates  a 
new  centre  of  disturbance 
in  the  Moslem  world. 

The  two  millions  of 
Israelites,  who  peopled 
Palestine  at  the  time  of 
the  conquest  of  Jerusalem 
by  Titus,  in  the  year  70 
A.  D.,  were  scattered  little 
by  little  throughout  the 
Roman  world,  whither 
they  went  to  join  the  Jews 
of  the  dispersion.  Strictly 
speaking,  there  was  not, 
except  for  Jerusalem  in 
(A.  D.  117)  and  of  Omar  (A.  D.637),  a  decree  of 
expulsion.  However,  the  destruction  of  the  Temple, 
the  prohibition  to  live  in  Jerusalem  after  the  revolt 
of  the  false  Messiah,  Bar-Kochba,  and  finally  the 
loss  of  all  political  influence,  forced  the  Jews  to 
disperse  themselves  in  great  numbers  throughout 
the  Roman   Empire. 


Cyprien  Jourdin,  C.  P. 
{Rector  of  the  Passionist  Retreat  at  Bethany) 
against  the  Christians 


THE  HOLY  CITY  OF  JERUSALEM 


the    time    of    Hadrian 


<3 


HEY  benefited  by  a  gracious  toleration,  even 
during   the   epoch   when   persecutions   raged 


Antoninus  permitted  them 
to  move  from  place  to  place,  which  was  rigorously 
forbidden  the  others.  Caracalla  gave  them  the 
right  to  the  Roman  city,  and  in  spite  of  the  rigor  of 
the  law,  polygamy  was  tolerated  among  them,  Even 
more,  from  the  second  century  and  up  to  the  year 
429  A.  D.,  they  had  a  real  sovereign,  a  descendant 
of  Hillel,  who  bore  the 
title  of  Ethnarch  or  Patri- 
arch, who  was  surrounded 
by  a  sumptuous  court,  and 
who  sent  his  delegates 
throughout  the  world  to 
organize  communities  with 
a  view  of  exercising 
justice  and  seeing  to  the 
religious  cults.  As  far  as 
sovereign  rights  were  con- 
cerned, the  only  right 
lacking  was  the  power  of 
life  and  death. 

However,  their  eyes 
were  always  turned  toward 
Jerusalem,  and  one  can 
say  that  the  first  tentative 
Zionist  movement  took 
place  in  A.  D.  363  under 
Julian  the  Apostate. 

This  philosophic  Em- 
peror found  the  Jews  some 
of  his  best  allies  in  the 
war  which  he  declared  on 
Christianity.  He  sent  for 
the  principal  chiefs  of  the 
Israelite  nation :  "Why,"  he  asked,  "do  you  not  offer 
sacrifices  to  your  God  for  the  safety  of  the  Empire?" 
And  when  the  Jews  replied  that  they  were  not 
permitted  to  offer  sacrifices  save  in  the  Temple  at 
Jerusalem,  at  that  time  in  ruins,  the  Emperor  replied  : 
"That  shall  not  prevent:    I  will  rebuild  it." 

nIS  wish  to  satisfy  the  Jews  mingled  in  the 
Apostate  with  his  desire  to  give  the  lie  to  the 
words  of  Christ  ("The  days  will  come,"  said 
the  Savior,"  when  of  this  temple  which  you  see,  there 


THE  1*  SIGN 


will  not  remain  one  stone  upon  another."  Luke 
XIX:5:6).  Before  starting  on  his  expedition  into 
Persia,  Julian  wrote  a  long  letter  to  the  Jewish 
community,  in  which  he  said:  "If  I  return  victorious, 
I  will  rebuild  your  holy  city  of  Jerusalen,  I  will 
re-people  it,  and  I  will  there  give  thanks  with  you 
to  the  Almighty."  The  Emperor  appointed  a  director 
of  works,  a  person  of  importance,  formerly  a 
colonial  administrator.  Large  sums  of  money  were 
placed  at  his  disposal.  This  great  enterprise  was  a 
means  of  arousing  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Jewish 
people. 

"The  Patriarch  of  the  Jews,"  says  St.  John 
Chrysostom,"  offered  the  great  treasures,  of  which  he 
was  the  guardian,  and  the  people  set  to  work  with 
all  their  resources  of  audacity,  initiative  and  skill." 
"The  circumcized,"  says  St.  Ephrem,  "were  already 
sounding  the  trumpet."  The  work  was  begun. 
Frequent  earthquakes  did  not  retard  or  prevent  the 
work.  The  workmen  endured  many  mishaps  from 
sudden  upheavals  of  the  ground  and  landslides. 
The  fall  of  a  portico  crushed  a  group  of  laborers. 
Notwithstanding  these  disasters,  the  work  continued. 
Jewish  tenacity  and  Pagan  obstinacy  continued  the 
war  against  relentless  nature. 

"But  very  soon  a  more  terrible  phenomenon 
occurred,"  says  the  historian  Pere  Allard.  "Let  us 
here  give  the  words  of  the  Pagan  Ammien  Marcellin : 
'At  the  moment,'  wrote  he,  'when  Alypius,  aided  by 
the  government  of  the  Province,  was  pushing  the 
work  forward,  terrible  globes  of  fire  burst  at  frequent 
intervals  around  the  foundations,  made  the  place 
inaccessible  to  the  laborers,  and  even  burned  some 
of  them.'  And  as  the  very  elements  fought  against 
the  continuation  of  the  work,  the  enterprise  had  to 
be  abandoned."  Thus  was  the  first  Zionist  attempt 
thwarted. 

"The  Jews,"  says  St.  Jerome,  "promising  them- 
selves until  the  end  of  time  the  restoration  of  the 
city  of  Jerusalem,  were  forced  to  leave  the  city 
like  waters  which  flow  toward  the  two  seas.  They 
practiced  anew  the  rite  of  circumcision,  they  sacri- 
ficed victims,  they  observed  all  the  precepts  of  the 
Jews.  It  is  not  the  Jews  who  will  become  Christians, 
but  the  Christians  who  will  be  forced  to  become 
Jews." 

>jr^HEN  the  last  descendants  of  Hillel  died,  (A. 
\I/  D.    429),    the    Zionist   hopes    were   not   ex- 
tinguished, for  the  Ethnarch  had  for  successor, 
until  the  Middle  Ages,  the  Exilarch  or  chief  of  the 


exiles  of  Babylon,  the  real  chief  of  the  Jews  even 
in  the  Roman  Empire.  Without  doubt  Judaism 
suffered  from  the  intrusion  of  the  Emperors  at 
Constantinople  in  its  affairs,  but  much  less  than  did 
Christianity. 

In  the  Middle  Ages  the  Jew  was  often  reviled. 
He  held  himself  or  was  forced  to  hold  himself  aloof. 
Living  and  exiled  in  his  Ghettoes,  one  can  easily 
imagine  that  he  cherished  the  hope  of  one  day 
securing  his  revenge.  In  our  days,  the  Jews,  whose 
numbers  seem  to  have  increased  to  about  thirteen 
millions,  enjoy  in  certain  countries  a  prosperity 
above  the  average;  in  others  they  are  to  a  great 
extent  kept  apart  from  the  natives  by  custom  or 
tradition.  Even  in  certain  nations  where  he  has 
acquired  power  in  financial  and  commercial  affairs 
and  where  he  enjoys  complete  equality  before  the 
law,  the  Jew  is  still  regarded  with  a  disagreeable 
smile. 

Owing  to  these  various  attitudes  toward  the 
Jew,  a  Jew  born  in  Budapest  in  1860,  one  Theodore 
Herzl,  created  the  modern  Zionist  movement,  the 
object  of  which  was  the  founding  of  a  Jewish 
nationality,  a  political  Jewish  state,  whence  the 
Israelites  could  compel  the  esteem  of  the  world. 
Herzl's  idea  was  a  modern  state  which  could  be 
established,  if  necessary,  in  another  country  than 
Palestine.  Herzl  wished  to  solve  the  Jewish  pro- 
blem. He  understood  that  his  co-religionists  of  the 
entire  world,  even  where  they  enjoyed  complete 
political  rights  with  full  religious  liberty,  would 
never  assimilate  with  the  body  and  soul  of  the 
nations  where  they  lived.  The  Jew  would  always 
remain  an  element  refractory  to  perfect  fusion.  The 
ultimate  reason  which  prevents  the  total  blending 
of  the  Jewish  people  with  other  peoples  is  the 
indissoluble  union  in  Judaism  of  two  elements,  which 
everywhere  else  are  found  separate,  religion  and 
nationality.  This  is  true  of  the  entire  history  of 
Judaism. 

QS  far  as  concerns  religion,  this  is  easily  seen; 
in  maintaining  that  Jewry  is  also  a  nationality 
non  Jewish  writers  have  merely  witnessed 
to  the  voice  of  Israel  itself.  "The  entire  world," 
said  one  of  the  American  Jewish  delegates  to  the 
Peace  Conference,  Rabbi  Stephen  Wise,  "the  entire 
world.  .  .  .  knows  that  the  spirit  of  Jewish  national- 
ity has  never  ceased  since  the  Romans  expropriated 
the  Jews  from  their  national  home  nineteen  centuries 
ago."    Zionism,  in  the  thought  of  its  founder  Herzl, 


THE  +  SIGN 


and  his  co-workers,  was  to  revindicate  before  any- 
thing else  Jewish  nationality,  one  people,  one  law, 
one  language,  one  territory.  When  Herzl  proposed, 
in  default  of  Palestine,  of  which  he  could  not  reason- 
ably dream,  to  establish  a  Jewish  state  in  Uganda, 
the  despair  of  the  Zionists,  was  tragic.  Herzl  with- 
drew and  died  (July,  1904),  believing  that  all  his 
plans  had  failed  and  were  unrealizable.  Neverthe- 
less he  left  behind  him  an  immense  mystic  hope  in 
the  restoration  of  Zion.  Zionism  did  not  die  with 
him.  The  Jews  did  not  wait  till  the  end  of  the 
World  War  to  point  out  their  claims.  From  1917, 
when  the  successes  of  English  arms  assured  the 
conquest  of  Pales- 
tine, an  interven- 
tion of  Lord 
Rothschild  obtain- 
ed  from  the 
British  govern- 
ment a  declara- 
tion which  was 
as  good  as  a 
promise.  This 
declaration  from 
Balfour,  of  which 
the  importance 
cannot  be  exag- 
gerated, opened  a 
new  era  for  the 
Zionists.  Here  is 
the  declaration:         "dome  of  the  rock, 

Foreign  Office,  2nd  November,  1917. 

Dear  Lord  Rothschild, — 

I  have  the  great 
pleasure  of  sending  you  from  the  Govern- 
ment of  His  Majesty  the  following  declar- 
ation, which  has  been  submitted  to  the 
Cabinet  and  received  its  approval. 

"The  government  of 
His  Majesty  looks  favorably  upon  the 
establishment  in  Palestine  of  a  national 
home  for  the  Jewish  people  and  will  employ 
all  its  efforts  to  facilitate  the  realization  of 
this  project,  it  being  clearly  understood 
that  nothing  will  be  done  to  violate  the 
civil  and  religious  rights  of  the  non-Jewish 
peoples  in  Palestine,  nor  the  rights  and 
political  conditions  which  the  Jews  enjoy 
in  all  other  countries." 


I  will  be  obliged  to 
you  if  you  will  bring  this  declaration  to  the 
knowledge  of  the  Zionist  federation. 


m 


Sincerely  yours, 

Arthur  James  Balfour. 

HEN   one   reads  this   declaration   one   under- 
stands the  enthusiasm  which  manifested  it- 
self at  the  time  of  its  publication  and  on  the 
anniversaries  of  this  celebrated  promise.     What  a 
providential    oracle    for   the    Zionists!      When   the 
entire  world  was  at  war,  when  the  Russian  Empire 
which  had  perse- 
cuted   the     Jews, 
the  Empire  of  the 
pogroms,  was  fall- 
ing   to    pieces    a 
new  Cyrus  show- 
ed   the    Jews    the 
way  to  Holy  Zion  ! 
Was    not   this    at 
last     the     accom- 
plishment of  that 
wish    of    all    the 
years  which  they 
had    repeated    on 
Easter     night : 
"next      year      to 
Jerusalem!"    Was 
this  not  a  means 

THE    SIGHT        Qf    br;nging    them 

back  there  to  trace  a  path  amongst  so  many  ruins? 
The  Lord  had  said :  "Fear  not,  for  I  am  with  thee : 
I  will  bring  thy  seed  from  the  east  and  gather  thee 
from  the  west.  I  will  say  to  the  north :  Give  up : 
and  to  the  south:  Keep  not  back:  bring  my  sons 
from  afar,  and  my  daughters  from  the  ends  of  the 
earth."     (Isaias  XLIII-5,6.) 

All  this  is  mysticism,  but  mysticism  can  in- 
fluence millions  of  men.  All  that  the  Jewish 
spiritual  masters,  formerly  the  only  oracles  of 
Judaism,  can  do  is  to  moderate  these  explosions  of 
joy  and  to  eradicate  all  that  is  provocative  and 
aggressive  in  these  words.  The  "Jewish  World" 
assures  us"  that  the  universal  empire  promised  to 
the  Jews  will  not  exploit  the  Gentiles  for  the  benefit 
of  one  nation.  No — the  Jews  have  for  their  mission 
the  good  of  the  whole  world,  and  it  is  for  that 
reason  that  they  have  a  right  to  empire." 


1? 


THE  t  SIGN 


XF  the  moderate  spirits  think  thus,  and  if  these 
are  carried  away  by  an  excess  of  jubilation 
which  cannot  help  but  disturb  them,  what 
must  the  masses  be  thinking?  A  people  who  have 
been  constantly  told  that  they  have  been  persecuted, 
mocked  and  jeered  at  for  centuries  by  the  Christians, 
who  have  been  accustomed  to  mix  instincts  of 
revenge  with  zeal  for  its  own  interests  and  its 
fidelity  to  its  own  personal  welfare,  will  these 
people  maintain  their  balance  in  the  midst  of  their 
joy  and  hope  renewed?  Must  Jewry  not  passion- 
ately hope  to  humiliate  Christianity  in  its  turn,  to 
revenge  itself  ?  Noble  and  lofty  souls  are  not  more 
numerous  in  Isreal  than  elsewhere.  One  perceives 
the  response  and  the  danger,  confirmed  only  too 
vividly  by  the  present  conditions  in  Palestine. 

Since  the  great  offensive  of  Marshall  Foch 
made  the  victory  of  the  Allies  certain,  the  Zionists, 
anticipating  the  armistice,  seized  on  the  declarations 
of  President  Wilson  to  claim  the  realization  of  the 
Balfour  promise.  The  "Jewish  World"  wrote  in 
October,  1918:  "The  thesis  of  the  Wilsonian  peace 
which  dominates  more  and  more  the  aspirations  of 
people  desirous  of  securing  a  truce  between  two 
massacres,  claims  the  independence  of  each  nation 
provided  that  that  nation  insists  on  it.  Why  should 
not  the  Jewish  nation,  if  it  exists,  or  if  it  wishes 
to  exist,  have  the  same  privilege  as  other  nations?" 

^^^HE  more  surely  to  win  possession  of  the 
%/J  Promised  Land,  the  Zionist  Committee  of 
Palestine  has  laid  at  Jerusalem  on  the  Mount 
of  Olives  the  first  stone  of  a  Hebrew  University. 
A  congress  of  about  two  hundred  delegates  of  the 
Jews  of  Judea  met  together  in  the  Holy  City  with 
the  view  of  strongly  organizing  Palestinian  Judaism. 
Many  great  newspapers  of  England  sent  special 
correspondents.  A  representative  of  the  British 
government,  Major  Ormsby-Core,  commemorating 
the  historic  declaration  of  Mr.  Balfour,  gave  it  this 
interpretation :  "We  are  of  the  opinion  that  the  Jews 
who  voluntarily  desire  to  come  to  Palestine  to  live 
here,  may  be  considered  in  Palestine  as  belonging 
to  the  Jewish  nation,  that  is  to  say,  as  Jews  and 
nothing  else.  When  I  shall  return  to  my  country, 
I  will  report  to  the  British  government  what  the 
Jews  of  Palestine  have  already  done  to  realize  their 
ideal  and  what  work  has  been  accomplished  already 
to  secure  a  national  home  on  a  Hebraic  basis.  I 
will  report  that  you  all,  from  wherever  you  may 
have    come,    from    Russia,    from    Salonica,    from 


Bucharest  or  from  Poland,  America,  or  England,  are 
united  in  Palestine  with  a  common  ideal,  that  of  the 
creation  of  national  centre  for  the  Jews  of  the  whole 
world." 

Thus  is  clearly  advertised  the  pretension  that 
Israel  does  not  consist  solely  of  a  religion  or  a  race, 
but  is  a  national  entity  with  its  members  scattered 
throughout  the  world,  awaiting  the  return  of  their 
territory.  Jerusalem  must  become  for  them  a 
religious,  political  and  national  centre. 

This  claim  of  Jewish  nationality  must  have 
been  reiterated  in  the  Jewish  congresses  held  in 
different  countries  after  the  Armistice.  The  Jews 
of  America  above  all  sided  with  the  Zionist  move- 
ment. 

XN  the  Congress  held  in  Philadelphia  from  the 
15th.  to  the  17th.  of  December,  1918,  four 
hundred  delegates,  representing  the  three 
millions  of  Jews  in  the  United  States,  voted  a  reso- 
lution charging  the  delegates  of  the  Jewish  Congress 
of  America  to  work  with  the  representatives  of  other 
organizations  and  especially  with  the  Universal 
Zionist  Organization,  in  order  that  the  Peace  Con- 
ference should  recognize  the  aspirations  and  the 
historical  claims  of  the  Jewish  people  relative  to 
Palestine,  and  declared  that  it  was  in  accord  with 
the  declaration  of  the  British  government  of  the 
2nd.  of  November,  1917,  approved  by  the  Allied 
governments  and  the  President  of  the  United  States, 
that  there  must  be  created  in  Palestine  a  political, 
administrative  and  economic  administration  fitted 
to  assure,  under  the  protection  of  Great  Britain, 
the  development  of  Palestine  into  a  Jewish  republic ; 
being  clearly  understood  that  nothing  should  be 
done  which  would  injure  the  civil  and  religious 
rights  of  the  non-Jewish  peoples  of  Palestine,  nor 
the  rights  and  political  conditions  which  the  Jews 
enjoyed  in  other  countries.  (The  Jewish  World, 
17th.  January,  1919,  p.  446.) 

The  sending  of  a  delegation  of  six  members, 
having  at  its  head  the  Rabbi  Stephen  Wise,  was  a 
direct  consequence  of  this  resolution.  This  dele- 
gation and  that  of  other  nations  did  not  content 
themselves  with  approaching  different  politicians. 
They  demanded  to  be  received  officially  and  heard 
by  the  Peace  Conference  itself.  They  had  too  many 
friends  therein  not  to  be  assured  of  a  friendly 
reception.  The  "Jewish  World"  complacently  re- 
ported in  February,  1919,  that  Judism  was  "well 
enough  represented,"  even  strongly  represented,  at 


THE  1*  SIGN 


the    Peace    Conference    which    ruled    the    fate    of 
Europe. 


of  the   indigenous   population,   composed   primarily 
of  Christians  and  Moslems. 


aNDER  these  conditions  the  Zionist  claims 
could  not  but  triumph.  Article  95  of  the 
Treaty  of  Sevres  formally  recognized  them 
in  declaring  that  it  conceded  the  administration  of 
Palestine  to  the  British  Empire  under  a  mandate. 
The  British  Empire  would  be  responsible  for  putting 
into  execution  the  original  declaration  made  on  the 
2nd.  of  November,  1917 
by  the  British  govern- 
ment and  adopted  by  the 
Allied  Powers  in  favor 
of  establishing  in  Pales- 
tine a  national  home  for 
the  Jewish  people.  It 
seems  that  this  article 
definitely  settled  the 
Zionist  question,  al- 
though it  may  well  be 
that  the  Treaty  of  Sevres 
will  be  revised. 

The  Zionists  did  not 
wait  for  the  Treaty  of 
Sevres  to  state  openly 
the  concessions  which 
would  be  made  them  by 
this  treaty,  and  to  inter- 
pret the  foundation  of  a 
national  home  for  the 
Jewish  people  in  the 
sense  of  a  Jewish  repu- 
blic. Their  ambition  was 
to  create  a  national  state 
at  once,  where  they 
would  hold  the  upper  hand,  relegating  Christians 
and  Musselmans  to  the  rank  of  citizens  of  the 
second  class.  The  British  government  seemed  in- 
capable of  measuring  the  scope  of  this  audacious 
dream  and  ambition.  Its  method  of  acting  in  Pales- 
tine tends  inevitably  to  assure  to  the  Jews  there  a 
predominant  position,  so  that  in  a  little  while  they 
will  be  masters  of  the  country.  Once  Jerusalem 
and  Palestine  had  been  captured  from  Turkish 
domination,  it  was  a  most  elementary  proposition 
that  the  government  should  be  confided  to  a  Christian 
or  a  Musselman.  One  or  the  other  should  have  had 
the  advantage   of  representing  the   large   majority 


* 

•— 

_'  —  —  ti  _ 

• 

^j     'ZgfiPQSIfcik  - 

m<t  « 

;  ■  * 

i  •  ■ 

jg&tl 

Mi     ' 

ilk   1 

ffl- 

^P2 

*?■  *• 

^tt^HAT  did  the  mandatory  power  do?  It  gave 
\\j  the  post  of  Governor  of  Palestine  to  a  Jew, 
Sir  Herbert  Samuel.  His  being  a  Jew  renders 
him  unpopular  among  the  Christians  and  Mussel- 
mans,  and  has  besides  the  great  disadvantage  of 
his  not  representing  a  seventh  part  of  the  indigenous 
population  of  Palestine.  The  mandatory  power  had 
promised  in  the  declar- 
ation of  Mr.  Balfour  not 
to  interfere  with  the  civil 
and  religious  rights  of 
the  non-Jewish  popula- 
tion of  Palestine!  How 
has  England  kept  that 
promise?  She  has  sub- 
jected this  population  to 
an  administration  nearly 
exclusively  Jewish,  in- 
stead of  making  a  wide 
appeal  for  their  colla- 
beration.  She  has  every- 
where installed  a  Jewish 
supremacy  as  odious  to 
the  Musselman  as  to  the 
Christian.  Since  1919 
the  control  of  finances 
and  public  employment 
have  been  for  the  greater 
part  in  the  hands  of  the 
Jews.  Besides,  the  Zion- 
ist administration  was 
known  as  the  official 
collaborator  of  the 
English  administration 
in  settling  all  the  economic,  social  and  other  ques- 
tions affecting  the  establishment  of  the  national 
Jewish  home  and  the  interests  of  the  Jewish  popu- 
lation in  Palestine,  distribution  of  lands,  contracts 
for  public  works,  etc.  Considerable  sums  have  been 
pledged  by  the  Zionist  Jews  of  all  countries  for  the 
enterprise  of  restoring  the  "national  Jewish  home  in 
Palestine.  "The  Jews  secured  possession  of  great 
tracts  of  land  in  all  sections  of  Palestine.  The  Arab 
peasants,  it  is  true,  are  attached  to  the  soil,  but  as 
a  certain  number  of  them  had  debts,  they  allowed 
themselves  to  be  tempted  by  seductive  offers, 
made  by  Jewish  committees  in  command  of  enor- 
mous financial  resources. 


CHURCH  OF  THE  HOLY  SEPULCHRE 


THE  +  SIGN 


CERTAIN  citizens  in  the  cities  who  had 
acquired  land  with  a  view  to  speculation 
easily  sold  these  when  the  Jews  put  a  good 
price  on  them.  The  land  once  sold  never  returns 
to  the  Christian  or  Musselman  as  the  only  legal 
proprietor  is  the  Jewish  committee  which  never 
gives  it  up  save  to  its  co-religionists.  Trade  falls 
every  day  more  and  more  into  the  hands  of  the 
Jews,  whose  commercial  aptitude  is  proverbial,  and 
who  make  considerable  use  of  loans  from  the  Jewish 
banks  at  the  rate  of  three  per  cent,  while  the  non- 
Jew  must  pay  as  high  as  ten  or  twelve  per  cent. 
Such  are  a  few  of  the  unhappy  manifestations  from 
the  economic  point  of  view  of  the  Zionist  expansion 
in  Palestine. 

This  manifest  partiality  on  the  part  of  the 
British  government  toward  the  Zionists,  and  all  that 
vast  financial  organization  put  at  the  service  of 
Jewish  religious  enthusiasm  and  exalted  nationalism, 
have  exasperated  the  Christians  as  well  as  the 
Moslems  in  Palestine.  Not  being  able  to  secure 
recognition  of  their  rights  from  the  mandatory 
power,  and  on  the  other  hand  not  being  able  to 
make  headway  against  Jewish  finance,  they  retaliat- 
ed by  violence.  There  can  be  nothing  more  odious 
to  a  follower  of  Mahomet  than  to  have  laws  made 
for  him  by  a  Jew.  Between  Islam  and  Isreal  there 
is  an  abyss.  Palestine  has  been  the  meeting  place, 
as  it  were,  of  the  religious  creeds  of  nearly  the  entire 
world;  and  this  fact,  combined  with  the  fact  that 
since  the  Crusades,  it  has  been  the  possession  of 
Islam,  makes  the  constitution  of  a  Jewish  state 
there  among  the  impossibilities  of  the  present  hour. 
The  result  is,  notwithstanding  the  influence  of 
England,  that  the  reaction  against  the  Jew  has 
assumed  violent  proportions  in  Palestine,  which  is 
peopled  by  a  large  majority  of  Musselmans  who  are 
all  exasperated  by  the  encroachment  of  Jewish 
colonization.  In  their  eyes  Zionism  exemplifies 
Jewish  supremacy  and  their  own  subjection  to  a  race 
cursed  by  Allah  a  hundred  times  in  the  Koran.  This 
is  the  real  reason  for  the  bloody  brawls  which  took 
place  between  Jews  and  Musselmans  at  Jerusalem 
in  1920  and  1921.  At  Caiffa,  and  above  all  at  Jaffa, 
sooner  or  later  the  world  of  Islam  will  not  fail  to 
take  the  part  of  its  Palestinian  brothers  placed 
under  the  yoke  of  the  "Yahond-Guorond"  (monkey- 
Jews),  as  the  natives  of  Palestine  call  them. 

In   the   allocution   which   he   delivered   in   the 
secret   Consistory   of   May   10th.,    1919,   when   the 


status  of  Palestine  was  not  yet  fixed,  His  Holiness 
Benedict  XV,  thinking  of  the  future  of  Palestine, 
spoke  in  these  moving  terms :  "We  are  asking  our- 
selves with  greatest  anxiety  what  decision  will  be 
taken  about  Palestine  in  a  few  days  time  by  the 
Peace  Conference  being  held  at  Paris.  It  will 
surely  be  a  cruel  blow  to  Us  and  to  all  the  faithful 
if  a  privileged  position  is  given  to  unbelievers  in 
Palestine,  and  our  sorrow  will  be  deep  if  those  to 
whom  the  great  religious  monuments  are  delivered 
are  not  Christians." 

The  diplomats  at  the  Peace  Conference,  forced 
to  take  notice  of  the  delegates  of  some  few  millions 
of  Jews,  closed  their  ears  that  they  might  not  hear 
the  words  of  the  common  Father  of  hundreds  of 
millions  of  Catholics. 

^f^^HE  actual  developments  in  Palestine  proved 
^SJ  that  the  fears  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  were 
not  chimerical.  Benedict  XV.  renewed  his 
protests  with  a  force  which  should  have  aroused 
from  their  apathy  and  awakened  the  consciences  of 
Catholics  to  the  gravity  of  the  perilous  situation. 

"It  clearly  appears,"  said  the  Holy  Father,  "that 
the  condition"  of  the  Christians  in  the  Holy  Land 
has  not  only  not  been  ameliorated,  but  has  become 
even  worse  than  it  was  before  because  of  newly 
made  laws  and  political  institutions.  Without  dis- 
cussing the  intentions  of  the  authors  of  these  laws, 
in  actual  fact  they  tend  to  empower  Jews  to  displace 
the  name  of  Christian  from  places  which  have 
always  been  known  as  Christian.  We  find  many 
people  actively  employed  in  secularizing  the  holy 
places  and  transforming  them  for  worldly  usage, 
importing  there  all  sorts  of  attractions  which  simply 
make  for  voluptuousness,  which  are  condemnable 
in  any  case,  and  above  all  in  that  land  which 
contains  the  great  monuments  of  our  religion."  It 
is  easy  to  illustrate  this  allocution  of  the  Sovereign 
Pontiff  by  actual  facts,  the  publication  of  which 
was  forbidden  in  Palestine  by  the  British  govern- 
ment. Instead  of  exaggerating,  as  certain  Zionist 
journalists  tried  to  suggest,  the  Holy  Father  did  not 
even  reveal  the  whole  truth  in  the  matter. 


^tt^HERE  is  now  the  time  when  one  encountered 
\I/  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  only  the  caravans 
of  pious  pilgrims  of  all  nations,  of  all 
languages  and  of  all  religious  confessions,  pressing 
forward    to    venerate    the    Cross,    the    sign    of    our 


THE  t  SIGN 


redemption,  in  the  very  locality  where  it  was  first 
erected  ? 

Where  is  now  the  time  when  immorality  did 
not  dare  publicly  to  proclaim  itself  in  the  holy  city 
of  Jerusalem,  and  when  certain  houses,  whose  titles 
I  shall  not  name  were  unknown  therein? 

Today  what  does  one  find  at  Jerusalem  under 
the  new  Zionist  Jewish  republic?  Moving  picture 
shows  which  re-produce  the  most  immoral  films  of 
London,  Paris  or  New  York,  and  dancing  parties 
face  to  face  with  Calvary.  This  very  year  the 
government  authorized  a  costume  ball  on  Holy 
Saturday;  when  the  clergy  protested,  the  ball  was 
not  forbidden  but  simply  postponed  till  Easter 
Sunday. 

The  Cross,  the  venerable  sign  of  our  redemption, 
but  an  object  of  horror  to  the  Jews,  is  daily  insulted 
by  them  with  hate  as  well  as  ridicule. 

One  sees  in  the  more  frequented  streets  of 
Jerusalem,  students  of  the  Jewish  schools  covering 
their  eyes  with  their  hands  and  spitting  on  the 
ground  when  certain  Religious  pass  by  with  the  cross 
on  their  breast  to  emphasize  the  disgust  which  is 
inspired  by  their  sight  of  the  Cross.  Often  too  the 
sight  of  a  priest  or  of  a  Religious  is  an  occasion  for 
showing  their  hatred  of  the  Cross.  They  make  the 
sign  of  the  Cross  with  their  fingers  and  then  spit 
on  it.  Yet  these  are  but  a  few  of  the  pleasant  things 
which  Zionism  reserves  for  Catholics  in  the  future! 

SACED  with  these  facts  Benedict  XV.  did 
not  cease  to  press  his  cry  of  alarm.  Since 
the  British  mandate,  under  the  protection  of 
which  these  things  occur,  had  not  yet  received  the 
official  approbation  of  the  League  of  Nations,  the 
Holy  Father  appealed  solemnly  to  the  heads  of  all 
the  governments:  "Since,"  he  said,  "the  affairs  of 
Palestine  are  not  yet  definitely  regulated,  we  pro- 
claim our  wish  that,  since  the  time  has  arrived  to 
fix  the  status  of  Palestine,  that  the  rights  of  the 
Catholic  Church  and  those  of  all  Christians  should 
be  safeguarded  in  their  integrity.  Certainly  our 
intention  is  not  to  take  any  rights  away  from  the 
Jews,  but  we  maintain  that  these  must  not  in  any 
way  prevail  over  the  sacred  rights  of  Christians. 
And  we  ask  emphatically  of  all  the  governments  of 


Catholic  peoples,  and  also  non-Catholic,  to  inter- 
vene, with  that  distinction,  as  powerfully  as  possi- 
ble with  the  League  of  Nations  regarding  those 
rights,  of  which  the  British  mandate  must  take 
account." 

Many  great  spirits  have  followed  with  sym- 
pathy the  Zionist  movement,  in  the  hope  that  it 
might  prove  at  last  a  solution  of  the  Jewish  problem, 
that  is  to  say,  that  it  would  give  a  country  to  "all  the 
poor  devils  of  Judaism,"  to  all  the  Jewish  elements 
not  assimilated  in  Roumania,  Russia,  and  the 
Ukraine,  which  number  around  six  or  seven  millions. 
This  is  pure  delusion :  Palestine  can  never,  even 
under  the  best  government  possible,  contain  and 
feed  more  than  two  million  inhabitants. 

Y?=^ERE  then  is  the  history  of  the  Jewish  people 
\  P  during  twenty  centuries,  since  they  suffered 
the  blood  of  the  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God 
and  the  Son  of  David,  to  fall  upon  them  and  their 
children.  "Their  entire  existence,  wrote  Lamennais, 
"has  been  nothing  but  a  long  prodigy;  a  new  miracle, 
yet  always  the  same,  a  universal,  perpetual  miracle, 
manifesting  to  the  last  day  the  inexorable  justice  and 
the  holiness  of  a  God  whom  this  people  dares  to 
deny.  Without  any  apparent  principle  of  life,  they 
have  lived;  nothing  has  been  able  to  destroy  them, 
neither  captivity,  nor  the  sword;  isolated  in  the 
midst  of  nations  who  repudiated  them,  they  found 
no  place  of  repose.  A  seemingly  invincible  power 
pressed  them  on,  agitated  them,  and  would  not  let 
them  rest  anywhere.  They  carry  in  their  hands  a 
torch  which  lights  the  entire  world,  and  them- 
selves remain  in  darkness.  They  await  that  which 
has  already  come;  they  read  their  prophets  and 
do  not  understand  them;  their  sentence,  written 
on  each  page  of  the  books  which  they  were  ordered 
to  cherish,  brings  them  joy;  like  those  great 
criminals  of  whom  antiquity  writes,  they  have  lost 
their  intelligence;  crime  has  troubled  their  reason. 
Everywhere  oppressed,  they  are  yet  everywhere. 
Every  nation  has  seen  them  pass;  all  have  been 
seized  with  horror  at  their  aspect;  they  were 
marked  with  a  sign  more  terrible  than  that  of  Cain : 
on  their  foreheads  a  hand  of  iron  had  written: 
'Deicides!'  " 


Current  Fact  and  Comment 


VACATION  TIME 

Vm^HILE  the  purpose  of  a  vacation  may  be 
\Jy  relaxation  and  recuperation,  very  frequently 
that  purpose  is  thwarted  with  serious  physical 
and  spiritual  setbacks.  Without  much  exaggeration 
it  has  been  said  that  no  man  needs  a  vacation  more 
than  he  who  just  had  one.  Those  who  wisely  plan 
their  holidays  will  not  fail  to  count  on  spiritual 
safeguards.  If  these  are  necessary  in  the  momentum 
of  ordinary  life,  much  more  are  they  for  the  dis- 
tractions and  temptations  of  those  rampant  days. 


Vacation  from  vacare,  "to  be  free,"  does  not  imply 
relaxation  of  moral  restraints  or  a  temporary  de- 
parture from  the  sphere  of  God's  presence.  Your 
vacation  should  not  produce  a  harvest  of  regrets. 
Let  there  be  no  dishonest  excuse  for  having  missed 
Mass.  The  gay  round  should  not  exclude  a  visit 
to  the  chapel  and  the  Faithful  Friend,  and  through 
prayer  actual  graces  should  be  solicited  and  the 
faculties  preserved  from  utter  saturation  with 
material  things. 


A  WIFE'S   OBEDIENCE 


fiEMINISM  having  succeeded  in  placing  woman 
on  a  plane  of  equality  with  man  and  in 
the  consequent  invasion  of  man's  positions 
and  privileges,  the  word  "obey"  seemed  idle  and 
obsolete  for  the  woman  in  the  Episcopal  form  of 
marriage.  There  is  question  of  deleting  it.  This 
word  does  not  appear  in  the  Catholic  form  of  marri- 
age. Nevertheless  the  Church  stands  for  the  spirit 
of  it  and  claims  that  it  represents  the  proper  attitude 
for  the  woman  in  married  life.  She  could  not  do 
otherwise  in  view  of  St.  Paul's  direction:  "Wives, 
be  subject  to  your  husbands."  This  precept  is 
based  on  the  very  nature  of  things.  While  the  dis- 
tinctive qualifications  and  ineffable  dignities  of  the 
wife   are   recognized,   it   is   presumed   that   in   the 


family,  as  in  any  organization,  there  can  be  no  equal 
division  of  authority  without  failure  and  discord. 
In  the  well-regulated  family,  affairs  will  shape  them- 
selves as  the  Apostle  prescribes.  The  authority 
vested  in  the  husband  is  not  designed  to  give  him 
personal  advantages  but,  as  with  all  .authority, 
implies  compensating  responsibilities  and  burdens. 
This  authority  must  be  exercised  with  firmness  and 
circumspection  with  the  temporal  and  eternal  in- 
terests of  the  family  ever  in  view.  The  wise  young 
woman  will  assure  herself  that  her  prospective 
spouse  measures  up  to  these  ideals.  Only  those 
who  marry  to  be  pampered  will  object  to  the  sub- 
ordination which  the  Apostle  ordains. 


WANTED— GROWN-UP  SUNDAY   SCHOOL  TEACHERS 


^^HE  movement  to  impart  religious  instruction 
V,  J  after  school  hours  to  Protestant  children 
attending  the  public  schools  was  not  under- 
taken without  a  numerous  corps  of  volunteers  ready 
to  impart  that  instruction.  These  came  trained  from 
that  wonderfully  elaborate  system — the  Protestant 
Sunday  School.  Compared  with  this  as  to  system 
and  efficiency  the  Catholic  Sunday  School  might 
not  merit  commendation.  This  may  be  due  to  our 
great  complacency  in  and  reliance  on  our  parochial 
schools.  During  that  scant  hour  of  catechism  on 
Sunday  mornings,  when  alone  it  seems  practical  to 
assemble  the  children,  the  pastor  is  frequently  other- 
wise engaged  and  must  leave  the  instruction  to 
others.     These   are   usually   too   young   or   incom- 


petent to  do  more  than  "hear"  the  lesson.  Why  do 
not  our  men  and  women  emulate  the  zeal  of  earnest 
Protestants  in  this  matter?  Our  children,  both  those 
in  rural  districts  and  those  whom  some  parents 
insist  on  sending  to  public  schools,  must  get  their 
religious  instruction  in  that  brief  period.  Think  of 
the  consequences  of  superficiality  or  of  neglecting 
means  to  interest  and  impress?  We  suggest  that 
there  are  many  with  bent  and  talent  for  this  im- 
portant work  who  would  be  surprised  by  the  interest 
and  satisfaction  they  would  derive  from  it.  You  are 
not  normal  if  you  do  not  like  to  come  in  contact  with 
children  and  do  something  to  earn  their  appreciation. 
If  you  want  to  make  your  pastor  happy  go  to  him 
and  volunteer  to  teach  in  the  Sunday  school. 


20 


THE  1*  SIGN 


RADIOING   RELIGION 


>^JUNDREDS  of  little  ears  listen  nightly  to 
JL.J  bedtime  stories  radioed  from  the  Sandman  or 
the  Man  in  the  Moon.  The  assumed  names 
of  these  story-tellers  are  a  clue  to  the  themes  with 
which  they  entertain  the  credulous  children.  Occa- 
sionally thrusts  are  made  at  unkindness  and  dis- 
obedience, but  it  seems  to  be  considered  wi.se 
policy  not  to  introduce  supernatural  motives.  May 
we  not  nope  that  Catholic  enterprise  will  arrange 
through  this  popular  instrument  to  reach  our  children 
with  messages  of  instruction  and  edification  supple- 
menting the  catechism  or  drawn  from  the  old  and 
new  Testaments  and  from  the  lives  of  the  Saints? 
When  the  natural  motives  prevail  in  the  ethical 
training  of  children  wierd  results  follow.  "Willie, 
I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that  you  would  like  to 
be  an  angel.  What  would  you  do  if  you  were 
one?"  "I'd  fly  up  to  the  top  of  that  cottonwood  tree 
in  our  yard  and  take  my  kite  out  of  it."  The  teacher 
was  showing  her  class  a  copy  of  "The  Angelus"  and 
wanted  to  know  what  the  man  and  woman  were 
doing.     After  much  suggestive  questioning  a  hand 


finally  went  up.  "I  know,  teacher,"  said  its  owner. 
"Well,  Johnny,  what  are  they  doing?"  "Lookin'  for 
potato-bugs,  teacher,"  replied  Johnny  triumphantly. 
How  extensive  may  be  the  use  of  the  radio  for 
religious  purposes  may  be  deduced  from  an  appeal 
from  the  mountains  of  Eastern  Kentucky.  "We  are 
a  farming  people  but  far  away  from  railroads  or 
other  good  roads  that  would  give  us  access  to  out- 
side communication.  Most  of  our  lands  are  hills 
and  rough  at  that.  We  have  reasonably  good  schools 
and  a  good  community  house,  but  no  churches. 
Once  in  a  while  a  minister  visits  our  locality  and 
delivers  a  sermon,  but  this  does  not  happen  more 
than  three  or  four  times  a  year.  Our  people  are 
interested  in  sacred  worship,  and  when  an  oppor- 
tunity offers  they  flock  in  to  take  part,  but  we  are 
not  able  to  employ  a  regular  minister.  I  have  taken 
the  matter  up  with  them  of  installing  a  radiophone 
in  our  community  house,  that  we  may  meet  often 
and  hear  the  Word  of  God  as  it  is  delivered  by  some 
able  minister  in  some  other  part  of  the  country, 
and  they  are  very  enthusiastic  about  it." 


THE  WOLF   SHALL   LIE   DOWN   WITH  THE   LAMB" 


QMONG  the  astonishing  attempts  at  accomplish- 
ing church  union  is  the  plan  of  five  Anglican 
and  five  Presbyterian  clergymen  to  receive 
a  twofold  set  of  orders  embracing  both  their 
churches.  They  claim  that  they  take  this  step  with 
the  understanding  that  it  does  not  imply  a  repudiation 
of  their  own  ministry. 

Circumstances  have  made  Anglican  belief  and 
practice  quite  familiar  to  us.  Your  Anglican  friend 
would  assure  you  that  nothing  essential  in  faith 
separates  you  from  him.  A  numerous  body  of  them 
admit  everything  for  you  except  the  supremacy  of 
the  Pope.  But  what  is  Presbyterianism  with  which 
some  Anglicans  entertain  the  thought  of  union? 

Presbyterianism  gets  its  name  from  its  system 
of  church  government  which  is  by  representative 
assemblies  as  opposed  to  a  hierarchy  of  bishops. 
These  assemblies  are  called  presbyteries.  Ordina- 
tion produces  the  teaching  elder  as  distinct  from  the 
lay  elder  and  church  authority  is  vested  in  an 
assembly  of  both.     Its  creed  is  founded  on  Calvan- 


ism,  specifically  on  the  Westminster  Confession, 
with  its  hopeless  view  of  predestination,  the  com- 
plete depravity  of  all  the  race  and  the  claim  that 
there  are  those  unchosen  who  do  not  share  in  the 
Atonement.  Lately  these  tenets  have  been  modified. 
The  founders  insisted  on  the  union  of  Church  and 
State  and  the  duty  of  civil  authorities  to  suppress 
heresy.  Baptism  is  esteemed  as  prescribed  by 
Christ  but  not  as  a  necessary  means  of  salvation. 
Christ  is  not  substantially  present  in  the  Lord's 
Supper  but  only  by  effect  for  believers.  The  service 
is  rigidly  simple;  there  is  no  liturgy;  in  some 
churches  instrumental  music  is  barred;  the  sermon  is 
the  feature  of  the  gathering,  the  minister  generally 
appearing  in  lay  attire. 

Fancy  Anglicanism  compromising  with  all  that 
— Anglicanism  with  its  mass  and  sacraments,  its 
vestments  and  statues,  its  reverence  for  an  annointed 
hierarchy,  its  full  trust  reposed  in  the  boundless 
merits  of  the  Savior!  Fancy  Anglicans  accepting 
their  ministry  at  the  hands  of  a  Presbyterian  elder! 


THE  f  SIGN 


SANE   PROHIBITION 


^^^EMPERANCE  advocates  in  Ireland  have  met 
V  J  and  formally  petitioned  the  officials  of  the 
provisional  Government  for  an  effective  regu- 
lation of  the  liquor  traffic.  These  advocates  pro- 
bably have  sufficient  reasons  for  their  concern. 
Experience  proves  that  no  class  of  legislation  re- 
quires greater  sagacity  in  the  lawmakers  than  pro- 
hibition. And  herein  is  afforded  a  clear  opportunity 
to  prove  the  contention  that  Ireland  possesses  the 
wisdom  and  acumen  requisite  for  self-government. 
Furthermore  her  lawmakers  have  an  immense  ad- 
vantage in  the  object-lesson  of  prohibition  as  applied 
in  this  country. 

From  this  source  they  can  learn  first  of  all  to  be 
fair  in  the  enactment  itself,  leaving  no  occasion  for 
opponents  to  claim  that  fanaticism  employed  selfish 
motives  or  exploited  the  nation's  temporary  exigen- 
cies. Again,  let  the  law  be  so  plain  and  compre- 
hensive that  it  will  not  require  a  long  train  of 
supplementary  legislation  to  render  it  effective.  With 
us,  the  original  law,  the  Eighteenth  Amendment,  is 


directed  against  the  use  of  intoxicating  liquors  as 
beverages  alone.  The  enforcing  legislation  presumes 
to  include  beverages  that  are  really  not  intoxicating. 
The  Rev.  John  Cole  McKim  declares  in  the 
North  American  Review:  "It  is  certain  that  the 
digestive  organs  of  the  normal  adult  could  not 
accommodate  a  fluid  containing  one  half  of  one  per 
cent  of  alcohol  in  sufficient  quantities  to  inebriate 
him.  A  common  sense  definition  of  an  intoxicating 
beverage  would  seem  to  be  that  of  a  fluid  which 
would  probably  inebriate  the  average  adult  if  taken 
in  normal  beverage  quantities."  Our  enforcing 
legislation  further  presumes  to  dictate  as  to  who  may 
use  wines  or  liquors  for  sacramental  or  medical 
(non-beverage)  purposes  and  in  what  quantities. 
And  the  courts  have  declared  these  usurpations  legal 
and  binding.  Further,  the  wise  legislator  will  not 
rely  upon  high  taxation  alone.  It  is  a  futile 
subterfuge.  While  it  discourages  the  multiplication 
of  saloons,  it  opens  a  profitable  field  proportionately 
for  the  reckless  bootlegger. 


THE  MELTING-POT 


^^^HE  result  of  the  recent  elections  in  a  number 
V  J  of  cities  seemed  portentous  to  a  certain- 
weekly  journal  of  sociology  and  it  invited 
replies  to  the  queery:  What  is  the  matter  with 
America  ?  It  was  stated  that  immigration  was  over- 
throwing the  traditions  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  the 
social  structure  of  the  Puritans  and  the  heretofore 
dominant  Anglo-Saxon  culture.  It  was  observed 
that  in  almost  all  the  older  American  cities  political 
power  is  passing  into  the  hands  of  immigrants  or 
the  children  of  immigrants  who  are  partly  assimi- 
lated economically  or  who  socially  have  remained 
alien  or  have  become  nondescript  half-breeds.  They 
use  their  power  in  a  manner  extremely  distasteful 
to  Americans  of  the  older  stock.  These  implications 
are  the  result  of  irritation  and  distorted  vision. 

True,  the  passing  of  the  old  order  is  matter  for 
regret.  There  was  a  distinctive  American  ideal 
developed  in  social  and  political  life  and  this 
development  is  charmingly  recorded  in  a  distinctive- 
ly American  literature.  If  this  ideal  is  vanishing, 
the  later  immigrant  is  no  more  to  be  blamed  for 


that  than  the  Anglo-Saxon,  as  such,  can  be  credited 
for  what  was  good  in  it.  Conditions  favored  the 
simple  life  and  moderate  prosperity  paved  the  way 
for  culture  and  liesurely  occupations.  But  the  dis- 
covery and  rapid  development  of  the  country's  rich 
resources  quickly  involved  both  native  and  immi- 
grant in  a  very  disturbing  turmoil.  The  immigrant 
with  his  fine  domestic  traditions  and  centuries  of 
culture  behind  him  was  involved  along  with  the 
native  in  the  material  deterioration.  Before  coming 
in  contact  with  the  immigrant  the  Yankee  moving 
west  in  search  of  oil  and  gold  soon  shed  the  gentle 
manners  of  the  New  England  town. 

Over  the  same  period  there  has  been  a  similar 
decline  in  culture  in  the  mother-country  of  the 
Anglo-Saxons  due  also  to  great  industrial  changes. 
The  immigrant  does  not  become  a  "new"  and  pecul- 
iar American  nor  has  he  wrought  a  change  in 
America.  Rather  has  the  New  America  changed 
and  absorbed  him.  The  late  war  was  a  supreme 
test  and  the  general  revelation  of  loyalty  proved 
that  assimilation  is  progressing  satisfactorily. 


A  Mystery   Chapel   In   Rome 

Rev.  Gabriel  Demey,  C.  P. 

PART  III. 

"^^^^HE  Faithful  Custodian  of  that  wonderful  and  therefore  the  more  precious  of  the  relics  in  the 
m  (T\  spot  caught  the  subdued  remark  of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  are  not  open  to  hand  or  eye. 
^^^^^  pilgrim  priest,  "that  name,  the  Sancta  They  are  hidden  away  and  securely,  jealously  pro- 
Sanctorum,  is  so  evidently  appropriate;  so  tected.  This  was  not  always  so.  Originally  they 
splendidly  true,"  and  promptly  went  on  saying,  were  displayed  to  full  view  and  open  veneration. 
"Yes,  it  is  both.  However,  there  is  another  reason  They  were  thus  up  to  the  eighth  century, 
why   this   oratory 


received  that 
e  x  t  r  a  o  r  dinary 
name  of  the 
5ancta  Sanctorum. 
It  might  well  be 
considered  an  en- 
larged reliquary 
or  even  itself  is 
worthy  to  be  re- 
garded as  a  relic 
because  of  its 
dignity,  antiquity 
and  associations. 
The  steps  which 
lead  up  to  it,  the 
Scala  Sancta  or 
Holy  Stairs  are 
one  of  the  most 
highly  prized  of 
Christian  relics 
for  they  are  the 
steps  which  led 
up  to  the  Palace 
of  Pontius  Pilate 
in  Jerusalem,  were 
travelled  by  Our 
Blessed  Lord  and 
were  even  stained 
with  His  bloody 
foot-prints  and  that  is  the  reason  why  none  is  per- 
mitted to  ascend  them  except  on  prayerful  knees; 
and  other  steps  are  beside  them  for  descent  and 
for  common  use." 

It  is  well  known  that  the  laws  of  the  Church 
for  the  safekeeping  of  holy  relics  are  very  strict. 
She  was  taught  by  bitter  experience  from  unscrupu- 
lous thieves  and  wicked  imposters  to  be  very  alert 


© 


MASSIVE  GOLD.  RICHLY  JEUfcLMJ  RELIQUARY  OF  THE 
SANCTA    SANCTORUM 


UT  Leo  III 
changed that 
arrange- 
ment; he  put  them 
securely  away 
from  hands  and 
from  eyes  that 
were  were  not  al- 
together controll- 
ed by  reverence. 
He  ordered  a  very 
large  and  strong 
relic  case  to  be 
made  of  cypress 
wood  —  a  strong 
box  indeed  —  and 
this  he  not  only 
fortified  but  orna- 
m  e  n  t  e  d  richly 
within  and  with- 
out. Inside  it  was 
carefully  par- 
titioned and  deli- 
cately lined,  and 
into  these  spaces 
the  more  valuable 
of  those  precious 
treasures  were 
carefully  placed, 
each  in  the  compartment  made  for  it,  each  with  its 
own  letters  of  identification  for  any  future  need 
and  an  accurate  and  detailed  catalogue  of  the  con- 
tents of  the  supurb  and  secure  reliquary  was  taken 
and  kept  in  the  archives  of  the  church.  That  box 
was  locked  after  the  manner  of  locking  in  the 
middle    ages. 

But  that  was  not  enough  to  satisfy  the  mind 
of  the  Pontiff.    That  strong,  spacious  and  elaborate 


THE  +  SIGN 


container  —  that 
primitive  safe  was 
made  part  of  a 
very  wonderful  if 
primitive  safe- 
deposit  vault.  The 
locked  box  was 
firmly  fixed  into 
the  altar  directly 
under  the  table  of 
it  there  in  the 
chapel,  and  that  in 
such  a  manner  as 
to  become  actually 
a  part  of  the  altar 
itself. 

"Now,"  added 
our  clerical  guide, 
"note  well  that  it 
was  this  strong  cy- 
press relic  box  that 
was  first  named  by 
that  pope  the 
Sancta  Sanctorum, 
and  this  in  the 
course  of  time  gave 
its     name     to     the 

chapel."     The  original  title  of  the  edifice  was  the 
"Pontifical  Basilica  of  St.  Lawrence,  the  Martyr." 

^^=^HE  watchful  spirit  of  Leo  III.  carried  pre- 
V_  J  caution  for  these  prized  possessions  even 
further.  The  aperture  beneath  the  altar  into 
which  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  was  fixed  he  closed 
by  a  bronze  door  and  not  one  but  two  of  these  heavy 
doors  sealed  it,  the  one  closing  on  the  other  and 
so  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  of  Leo  III.  anticipated  the 
modern  safe.  (It  is,  in  fact,  the  model  after  which 
the  safe  was  later  made.)  Each  of  the  two  doors 
was  locked  with  a  separate  key  and  each  key  was 
entrusted  to  the  care  of  a  separate  authority  so 
that  neither  could  have  access  to  that  mine  of  super- 
natural wealth  without  the  other,  nor  could  either 
custodian  in  any  way  make  use  of  his  key  without 
the  written  authority  obtained  each  time  from  the 
Holy  Father. 

But  the  climax  of  determined  exclusiveness  and 
security  was  added  when  a  staunch  grating  of  hand- 
wrought  ornamental  iron  was  fixed  across  the  front 
of    the    altar-safe    and    thus    all    approach    to    the 


reliquary  was 
made  ordinarily 
impossible. 


Iw 


PRECIOUS   RELIC   OF  THE  HOLY   CROSS  IN  THE   SANCTA   SANCTORUM 


E  listened  to 
these  details 
after  our 
imaginations  had 
been  raised  to  a 
high  plane,  and 
from  this  interior 
viewpoint  the  cha- 
pel itself  became 
highly  suggestive 
of  a  diminutive 
fortress  by  its 
strong  walls,  its 
somber  light  from 
one  window  and  its 
main  entrance  kept 
closed  by  heavy 
bronze  doors.  We 
had  entered  from 
the  adjoining  mon- 
astery through  the 
narrowest  of  dark 
passageways. 

The  impression 
was  heightened  when  we  noticed  that  every  approach 
from  without  was  barred.  On  either  side  of  the 
bronze  doors  or  main  entrance  there  is  a  small, 
square,  windowlike  opening  through  which  alone 
the  outside  world  may  merely  look  within,  but  those 
apertures  are  evidently  an  afterthought  and  were 
in  fact  cut  through  by  order  of  Nicholas  III.  Both 
of  these  are  barred  exactly  in  the  same  manner  as 
the  Sancta  Sanctorum,  there  under  the  altar.  The 
combination  is  impressive  in  a  way  which  cannot  be 
better  described  than  by  calling  it  weird. 

For  over  five  hundred  years  outsiders  have  been 
thus  kept  out.  True  it  is  that  from  the  eighth  to 
the  sixteenth  century  the  chapel  still  served  its 
original  purpose  as  the  domestic  oratory  of  the 
popes  and  the  treasures  of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum 
were  seasonably  exposed  to  the  veneration  of  the 
faithful.  But  since  the  spoliation  of  Rome,  in  the 
early  part  of  that  century  that  treasure  trove  has 
remained  hidden;  even  the  interior  of  this  holy  spot 
was  excluded  from  view,  except  for  the  glimpses  of 
it  which  might  be  had  by  looking  through  those 
apertures,  barred  and  forbidding,  on  either  side  of 


the  closed  entrance.  There  have  been  now  over  five 
hundred  years  of  this  isolation  and  silence  and  that 
in  the  midst  of  frank  and  wide  open  Rome. 


XT  all  became  very  mysterious.  Generations 
came  there  and  brought  with  them  patches 
and  snatches  of  the  wonderful  stories  which 
that  morning  we  had  listened  to  in  their  accurate 
detail;  with  their  patches  and  their  snatches  they 
had  stood  and  stared  through  those  openings  into 
that  somber  light,  that  emptiness  and  that  age  old 
silence  of  the  chapel;  and  they  passed  on  and  they 
carried  with  them  their  own  impressions  and  ver- 
sions of  all  this  mystery  to  tell  the  next  generation 
which  would  come  and  look  through  the  same  barred 
openings  into  the  same  vacancy  and  into  the  same 
stillness  and  turn  away  with  mystery  more  mystified. 

All  this,  as  can  easily  be  seen — the  bars  and  the 
silence  and  the  absence  of  all  life  and  the  fragments 
of  fact,  glorious  but  fading  more  and  more  into  the 
mists  of  long-gone  time, — began  to  play  upon  the 
curiosity  of  the  people  and  stimulate  the  imagina- 
tions of  the  ignorant  so  that  they  filled  with  their 
fancy  what  was  wanting  to  them  of  fact,  till  history 
became  fable  and  wild  fantasy  was  the  greatest 
fact  connected  with  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  in  the 
general  mind  of  the  Roman  people.  They  concealed 
behind  those  locks  and  bars  every  form  of  supernal 
power  and  personality. 

The  notion  which  had  most  commonly  taken 
possession  of  the  minds  of  the  people  was  that 
the  prophets  Moses  and  Elias  were  there  and  they 
alone  would,  because  they  alone  could,  break  the 
bars  before  them 
and  open  t  h  e 
bronze  doors  of  the 
5ancta  Sanctorum. 
These  could  and 
they  would,  but 
then— Ah!  That 
would  be  the  end 
of  the  world!  The 
Sancta  Sanctorum 
would  never  be 
opened  till  the 
day  of  judgment! 


J^HE     people 
V^  J  came     and 

the  fancies 
came  and  the  peo- 
ple  and   the  fan- 


THE  t  SIGN 

cies  passed  away  as  such  things  pass.  But  the  tiny 
temple  remained  through  all  the  restless  changes 
of  the  last  five  hundred  years.  Silent,  still, 
unchanged  it  stood  in  the  rich  possession  of  itself, 
a  majestic  creature,  indeed,  suggesting  the  very 
majesty  of  the  changeless,  silent  and  selfsatisfied 
God. 

None  the  less  human  than  the  simplest  child 
of  the  street,  even  the  scholar  is  susceptible  to  the 
powers  of  the  imagination  and  so  the  aloofness  of 
this  holy  sanctuary  began  to  play  upon  the  curiosity 
of  some  of  the  learned  men  and  to  challenge  their 
credulity.  More  than  once  during  these  years  has 
an  iconoclastic  savant  sought,  legitimately,  indeed, 
to  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  this  imposing  little 
basilica. 

But  Rome,  thank  God,  respects  tradition  as  in 
every  other  direction  she  moves  very  cautiously;  the 
pope  of  today  follows  the  same  path  as  the  pope  of 
ten  years  ago;  and  he  followed  the  paths  of  his 
predecessors  and  so  one  by  one  ttie  curious  and 
irreverent  and  aggresive  and  irritated  scholars  went 
up  to  the  Vatican  and  down  to  their  books  more 
irritated  still,  and  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  remained 
as  before  silent,  undisturbed. 


X 


&§§ 

;S!&^q 

m        §»  i  ...  HjBJwI'kSliIi 

tifl 

■ 

j|    Li  J  ■! 

"1 

THE  PAPAL  ALTAR  OF  THE  SAXCTA  SANCTORUM 


N  1870  the  Venerable  and  Persecuted  Pope 
Pius  IX.  came  in  his  sorrow  and  made  an 
humble  pilgrimage  to  the  Scala  Sancta  to 
plead  with  the  Suffering  Lord  Jesus  to  comfort  His 
Suffering  Spouse,  the  Church.  After  he  had  per- 
formed the  devotions  in  the  usual  manner,  ascending 
the  Holy  Stairs  on  his  knees,  he  celebrated  Mass  in 
the  ancient  papal 
chapel  of  his  pre- 
decessors and 
made  up  his  mind 
afterward  to  open 
the  Holy  of 
Holies.  But  when 
he  approached  the 
labor  he  suddenly 
changed  his  mind, 
turned  away  and 
said,  "No,  it  is  not 
the  Will  of  God." 
So  the  hidden 
treasure  remained 
untouched  and 
there  was  more 
food  for  mysterv. 
The  pope  went  off 


THE  1*  SIGN 


and  never  returned  and  so  the  proud  little  part  of 
a  one  time  pompous  palace  saw  that  pope  pass  as 
had  passed  the  popes  preceding  and  went  back  again 
to  its  emptiness,  its  silence. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  irreverent  and  ruthless 
science  was  using  its  battering-ram  on  every  closed 
door  during  the  years  of  Leo  XIII.  the  brazen  doors 
of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  remained  closed.  This 
pope  opened  up  wide,  one  after  another  of  the  con- 
cealed avenues  of  his- 
tory; he  even  threw  the 
doors  of  the  Vatican 
Library  open  to  the 
public  and  invited  all 
students  to  enter,  and 
the  supercilious  came 
with  a  rush  as  far  as 
the  doors. 

There  they  halted 
because  truth  w^as  with- 
in and  so  the  Vatican 
Library  is  not  very 
popular.  Seeing  these 
doors,  opening  one  after 
another  at  the  touch  of 
the  great  master  of 
learning  the  scholars 
asked  this  pope  to  open 
the  doors  of  the  Sancta 
Sanctorum  and  permit 
them  to  delve  into  its 
mysteries. 


Trie  Golden  Rose 

Francis  Kean  MacMurrough 

Who  or  what  has  the  Golden  Rose- 
Especial  gift  of  the  Pope — 

Is  a  holy  person  or  close, 

Holy  with  unwonted  scope. 

King  or  one  of  roy"al  degree 
May  treasure  this  leafed  ore, 

But  must  be  of  nigh  sanctity, 
Deep  Versed  in  sacred  lore. 


Four  Golden  Roses  now  adorn 
The  Sancta  Sanctorum  Cr?pt — 

Resplendent  on  the  altar  stone 

Where  the  rich  wine  Blood  has  dript, 


A  priest  was  making  archeological  studies  in  the 
subteraneous  department  of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum 
and  found  a  piece  of  wood,  under  or  very  nearly 
under  the  altar  of  the  Holy  Chapel  and  he  hastened 
to  bring  this  "marvelous  discovery"  to  the  same 
pontiff  as  proof  incontestible  that  the  Sancta  Sanc- 
torum had  been  tampered  with  and  should  be  im- 
mediately opened  and  examined. 

However  the  Head  of  the  Church  did  not  seem 
to  be  moved  or  in  any 
way  able  to  see  any- 
thing "marvellous"  in 
the  finding  of  a  piece 
of  wood  under  or  below 
an  altar  and  so  he 
answered  these  pleas 
very  calmly  by  saying 
"Everything  is  granted 
to  you  except  what  you 
ask."  And  the  book- 
man went  as  other 
bookmen  had  gone  be- 
fore, quite  perturbed, 
but  the  little  chapel 
remained  as  silent  and 
as  empty  as  before. 


There  Pope  alone  in  Mystic  rite, 

From  immemorial  years, 
Has  called  to  earth  the  Lord  of  Light 

With  holy  prayers  and  tears. 


^-'HEY   brought   to 
%/J  him  an  array  of 

arguments  and  in- 
ducements that  it  was 
possible  profane  hands 

had  fallen  upon  the  treasures  during  the  historical 
sacking  of  Rome  years  before;  they  reasoned  that 
the  light  fingered  experts  of  which  the  world  was 
full  had  possibly  broken  into  the  cypress  box  of  his 
namesake  Leo  III.  and  profaned  the  sacred  contents. 
But  the  broadminded  Leo  to  whom  they  were  talking 
seemed  to  be  deaf. 

The  great  scholar  and  archeologist,  Commenda- 
tori  di  Rossi,  who  was  most  highly  esteemed  at  the 
Vatican,  wanted  to  study  one  of  the  mosaics  of  the 
Mystery  Chapel,  a  very  simple  favor  for  so  great 
a  man  to  ask,  but  he  had  the  greatest  difficulty 
obtaining  the  permission  from  Pope  Leo  XIII. 


ft 


ND  so  the  Sancta 
Sanctorum  con- 
tinued till  an- 
other came  along.  He 
was  an  aggressive 
Jesuit  and  he  was  writ- 
ing a  critical  life  of  St. 
Agnes.  Now,  an  ex- 
tremely difficult  ques- 
tion faced  this  writer. 
It  was  this: — Accord- 
ing to  all  recognized  traditional  authorities  St.  Agnes 
was  beheaded,  at  the  age  of  about  12  or  13  years. 
This  Jesuit,  however,  had  discovered  that  there  was 
a  very  reputable  Greek  authority  who  contended 
that  the  saint  was  a  woman  of  mature  years;  that 
this  was  very  evident  from  her  zeal  for  the  faith 
which  would  be  ordinarily  impossible  in  a  mere 
child;  more  than  that  this  same  authority  stated 
that  the  saint  was  not  beheaded,  but  that  she  was 
burned  to  death. 


o 


HE  Jesuit  took  the  precious  document;  pocket- 
ed it;  trudged  off  to  the  Passionist  monastery 


THE  +  SIGN 


smiling,  confident  with  his  powerful  passport 
and  convinced,  quite  convinced  that  every  door 
would  open  wide  before  him — even  the  stubborn 
and  bolted  bronze  doors  of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum 
would  swing  loose  at  the  power  which  he  held  in 
his  pocket.  Now  he  would  convince  the  Greek 
and  all  the  world  that  St.  Agnes  was  surely  not 
more  than  12  years  of  age.  He  knocked  with  author- 
ity on  the  door  of  the  humble  monastery  and  asked 
to  see  the  Custodian.  He  met  the  Passionist.  Very 
shortly  after  the  two  priests  met  the  Jesuit  left  the 
monastery;  but  he  left  as  usual  quite  convinced — 
No,  not  of  anything  new  about  St.  Agnes  but  con- 
vinced that  Cardinal  Satolli  was  right  and  strongly 
convinced  that  he  would  rather  meet  again  the 
prelate  or  the  pope  than  the  Passionist.  And  the 
ancient  chapel  still  stood  silent. 

But  has  the  hidden  treasury  never  been  opened 
even  to  this  day?  Does  the  same  obstinate,  sphinx- 
like silence  hang  over  that  beautiful  but  ever  empty 
chapel?  Must  the  stout  grating  still  stand  before 
that  altar  to  spoil  the  view  of  an  exquisite  piece 
of  art  and  arouse  more  mystery  still  before  the  eyes 
of  coming  generations?  There  are  three  separate 
lists  of  the  contents  of  the  Sancta  Sanctorum  there 
in  Rome;  to  read  them  is  to  become  dazed  at  their 
number  and  extraordinary  character,  and  incident- 
ally to  acquire  a  prurient  curiosity  to  know  more ; 
to  experience  an  impulse  to  break  through  the  vague, 
the  uncertain,  the  doubt  and  the  mystery  and  to 
kill  all  wild  and  foolish  stories  at  a  stroke.  But 
that  is  a  very  reasonable  impulse  and  aim.  Why 
then  can  it  not  be  done  ?  Why  should  that  gigantic 
and  mysterious  relic  case  not  be  opened? 

XT  has  been  opened!  That  opening  has  been 
declared  by  the  highest  scientific  authorities 
to  be  the  greatest  "find"  in  modern  times. 
The  illustrious  archeologist,  Rev.  P.  Grisar,  was 
commissioned  to  carry  out  this  important  work  and 
associated  with  him  were  three  other  conscientious 
scholars.  The  authorization  was  given  and  the 
commission  appointed  by  the  pope  of  saintly 
memory,  Pius  X.  in  May  1905.  These  four  com- 
missioners assisted  by  the  Passionist  Fathers,  im- 
mediately proceeded  to  their  labor  and  their  dis- 
coveries thrilled  the  world.  The  official  news  was 
immediately  published  broad-cast  by  Father  Griser 
through  the  columns  of  the  Civilta  Cattolica,  and 
immediately  the  wires  began  to  flash  congratulations 
upon  this  scientist. 


But  for  us  it  was  not  so  important  to  know  the 
warmth  of  these  congratulations  as  to  learn  the 
character  of  the  discoveries.  The  contents  of  the 
cypress  box  made  by  Leo  III.  were  carefully 
examined  and  box  and  contents  were  found  to  be 
jn  perfect  preservation;  they  were  compared  with 
the  astounding  items  mentioned  in  the  official  cata- 
logues and  verified.  It  was,  indeed,  a  triumphant 
day  for  our  Holy  Mother  the  Church! 

XN  the  first  article  published  in  the  Civilta 
Cattolica  by  the  Eminent  discoverer  he  says, 
"I  shall  never  forget  the  impression  made  on 
us  as  our  eyes  fell  on  that  collection,  an  impression 
which  increased  at  every  instant  as  one  by  one 
precious  reliquaries  of  gold  and  of  silver,  of  bronzes 
and  of  precious  woods  appeared.  Those  little 
caskets  shining  in  their  native  brilliancy!  Those 
gorgeous  colorings  and  artfstic  designs  of  the  ancient 
treasures!  But  when  we  drew  them  forth  from 
beneath  the  altar's  dim  light  we  were  lifted  up  to 
a  higher  world,  transported  beyond  ourselves!  We 
remembered  that  these  were  the  holy  objects  which 
have  been  for  more  than  nineteen  hundred  years 
deeply  loved  and  sacredly  guarded  by  succeeding 
popes  and  venerated  by  numerous  generations  of 
the  Roman  people  and  by  the  countless  multitudes 
of  pilgrims  who  in  the  past  have  come  from  every 
part  of  the  world  to  offer  there  their  homage  and  on 
these  blessed  relics  to  feast  their  devotion.  What 
memory!  What  emotion!  I  would  not  express  in 
writing  the  feelings  of  that  first  day  except  to  say 
with  all  sincerity  they  were  those  of  complete 
ravishment!" 


QND  that  is  a  fact  which  has  been  experienced 
and  a  truth  which  has  been  declared  here 
long,  long  ago.  It  is  written  there  large  in 
letters  of  gold.  The  altar  there  in  that  recess  is 
flanked  by  two  pillars  of  priceless  porphery  which 
support  the  span  and  in  the  architrave  are  the  words 
"NON  EST  IN  TOTO  SANCTIOR  ORBI  LOCUS" 
Put  into  English  those  Latin  words  of  the  Great 
Sixtus  V  mean.  "THERE  IS  IN  ALL  THE 
WORLD  NO  HOLIER  PLACE."  The  little 
basilica  is  the  Sancta  Sanctorum,  the  Holy  of  Holies. 
One  of  the  lowly  travellers  here  quietly  remark- 
ed as  in  reverie,  "That  name,  the  Sancta  Sanctorum, 
is  so  evidently  appropriate;  so  splendidly  true." 


27 


Saints   and   Sinners 

Luis  Coloma,  S.  J. 

Copyrighted  1922,  by  The  Sign 


SYNOPSIS  OF  PREVIOUS   INSTALLMENTS: 

Curra,  Countess  of  Albornoz,  wife  of  the  Marquis  of  Villamelon,  is  an  intriguing  woman  of  society  in  Madrid. 
She  habitually  neglects  her  son  Luis  and  her  daughter  Lili,  as  well  as  her  husband,  and  involves  herself  in 
various  political  and  personal  intrigues  of  a  disreputable  character.  She  forces  her  confidant,  John  Velarde,  to 
fight  an  unnecessary  duel  to  defend  her  "honor,"  and  the  man  is  killed  in  so  doing. 

The  scene  then  shifts  to  Paris,  where  Spanish  refugees  are  gathering  after  the  Revolution  in  Spain  which 
has  overthrown  the  Italian  "usurper"  to  the  Spanish   throne,  Amadeo,  and   established   a    Republic. 

Jacob  Tellez,  a  cousin  of  Curra,  and  husband  of  Elvira,  Marchioness  of  Sabadell,  whom  he  has  basely 
deserted,  himself  a  libertine  and  politician  of  the  worst  type,  ex-Ambassador  to  Constantinople,  from  which  city 
he  had  been  forced  to  flee  after  a  vulgar  intrigue  with  the  Cadi's  wife,  arrives  in  Paris. 

Jacob  Tellez  has  been  entrusted  with  important  Masonic  documents  by  Victor  Emmanuel  of  Italy  to  carry 
to  his  nephew  Amadeo  in  Spain.  In  desperate  want  of  money,  Jacob  steals  the  documents,  which  place  in  his 
hands  valuable  weapons  with  which  to  attack  and  blackmail  certain  Spanish  politicians.  By  chance  "Uncle'' 
Frasquito,  a  Spanish  nobleman,  finds  the  Masonic  seals  attached  to  these  documents  in  Jacob's  room.  Jacob 
rashly  gives  the  seals  to  Frasquito  to  add  to  his  collection  of  these  oddities. 

Jacob  finally  decides  that  his  best  plan  to  secure  ready  money  is  to  be  reconciled  to  his  wife,  who  has 
recently  won  a  lawsuit  and  a  considerable  fortune.  He  has  in  the  meantime  attracted  the  favorable  attention 
of  Curra,  who  wishes  him  to  take  the  place  of  her  late  confidant,  Velarde. 

Jacob  interviews  Father  Cifuentes,  S.J.,  his  wife's  friend  and  confessor,  and  seeks  to  persuade  him  to  help 
him  in  his  reconciliation  with  Elvira.  But  Father  Cifuentes,  and  Diogenes,  a  dissipated  nobleman,  but  loyal  to 
his  friends,  by  letters  warn  the  Marchioness  of  Villasis,  with  whom  Jacob's  wife  is  staying  at  Biarritz,  of  Jacob's 
hypocritical  plans.    Jacob  starts  for  Biarritz,  thinking  that  Father  Cifuentes  is  really  on  his  side. 

The  Marchioness  of  Villasis  persuades  Jacob's  wife  to  leave  Biarritz  befdre  his  arrival,  and  seek  refuge 
at  Lourdes.  She  plans  to  see  Jacob  herself  and  discover  what  his  real  intentions  are,  and  if  he  is  insincere, 
thwart  his  plans.  Elvira  has  left  with  her  certain  important  papers  to  use  during  the  coming  interview,  and 
has  notified  Jacob  that  the  Marchioness  has  full  power  to  settle  all  the  questions  involved  with  him.  Jacob 
arrives  at  the  Marchioness's  villa,  and  is  announced.     The  latter  prepares  to  meet  him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


"M^^^HE  reader  must  realize  that  this  interview 
m  C\  with  the  Marchioness  was  a  very  import- 
^^^V  ant  one  for  Jacob.  He  had  been  entrusted 
with  important  papers  by  Victor  Emmanuel 
of  Italy  to  carry  to  his  royal  son  in  Spain,  in  the 
hope  of  bolstering  Amadeo's  vacillating  throne; 
papers  which  had  been  in  the  hands  of  the  Free- 
masons of  Italy,  and  which  they  now  intended  to 
use  to  support  Masonic  influences  in  Spain,  by  com- 
pletely foiling  certain  politicians  who  were  opposed 
to  the  revolutionary  influences  of  the  lodges. 

The  Marquis  of  Sabadell,  ruined,  had  arrived 
in  Milan  from  Constantinoule,  and  presented  himself 
at  the  lodge  in  which  Garibaldi  had  initiated  him 
years  before.  The  Venerables  welcomed  him  as 
an  envoy  from  the  Great  Architect,  and  presented 
him  to  Victor  Emmanuel  as  a  man  who  could  carry 
the  necessary  documents  to  Spain,  and  thus  give  to 
King  Amadeo's  policy  the  direction  desired  by 
Italy. 


/f~\  UT  Sabadell  arrived  too  late,  as  the  reader 
v|Gj  has  already  seen;  and  the  fall  of  King 
Amadeo  had  destroyed  all  the  fine  prospects 
which  Jacob  had  woven  in  Paris.  He  thus  found 
himself  alone  and  ruined  once  more,  and  necessity 
had  caused  him  to  try  to  use  the  documents  for  his 
own  purposes  with  the  resulting  complications  and 
dangers  which  we  have  already  described. 

His  original  idea  had  been  to  hand  the  docu- 
ments to  the  Alfonsists  or  Carlists,  according  to 
whether  the  former  or  the  latter  seemed  more 
assured  of  victory.  At  the  same  time,  it  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  to  throw  the  Masons,  whom  he  had 
so  grossly  deceived,  off  his  track;  to  accomplish 
which,  Jacob  had  evolved  the  idea  of  a  reconciliation 
with  his  wife,  and  of  secluding  himself  by  her  side 
for  a  year,  living  peacefully  upon  her  income,  and 
using  it  as  a  means  of  ridding  himself  of  his 
debts. 


28 


THE  +  SIGN 


Y?=CIS  reconciliation  with  his  wife  was  therefore 

I JP  the  key  to  the  castle  in  Spain,  which  he  had 

built,  and  which  he  was  determined  to  insert 
in  the  coming  interview.  He  accordingly  entered 
the  room,  serene  and  smiling,  with  the  air  of  a 
friend  who  advances  to  meet  another.  Upon  seeing 
him  enter,  the  Marchioness  greeted  him  warmly, 
saying  affectionately: 

"Well,  Jacob!  And  how  are  you?  I  see  that 
you  look  the  same  as  when  we  met  five  years  ago 
in  Brussels:    do  you  remember?" 

Jacob  warmly  pressed  the  hand  the  lady  had 
offered  him,  and  answered  with  equal  affection:  "Of 
course  I  do!  But  you  seem  hardly  to  have  passed 
your  twenty-fifth  year;  always  so — " 

"Jacob !  Why  kill  truth  for  the  sake  of  a  mere 
compliment?  Can't  you  see  that  my  hair  is  per- 
fectly white?" 

"Pshaw!  That  is  a  mere  refinement  of  coquetry. 
You  powder  your  hair  like  the  Marchionesses  of 
the  court  of  Louis  XV!" 

The  Marchioness  laughed,  and  Jacob  seated 
himself  upon  a  chair,  finding  that  he  was  slightly 
embarrassed  after  this  first  greeting.  Hoping  to 
force  the  Marchioness  to  speak  first  on  the  subject 
in  his  mind,  he  talked  of  how  politicians  of  all  the 
schools  and  causes  were  flocking  to  Biarritz.  At 
this  the  Marchioness  broke  the  ice  by  remarking 
pointedly:  "Yes.  It  would  seem  that  Biarritz  is 
the  scene  chosen  for  diplomatic  relations." 

*  I'ACOB  played;  he  did  not  understand  what  she 
\^y  meant,  and  replied  in  the  dicatorial  manner 
of  the  politician:  "The  issue  is  very  doubtful. 
I  believe  no  cause  will  succeed." 

"None?"  queried  the  Marchioness,  laughing. 
"Not  even  mine?" 

"That's  quite  another  thing,  "replied  Jacob, 
smiling. 

"No  one  can  resist  petticoat  diplomacy.  I  have 
heard  it  said  that  the  world  is  ruled  by  petticoats — 
skirts  and  cassocks." 

"Is  that  so,  Herr  Bismarck?  I  presume  that 
you  know  that  I  have  been  appointed  plenipotenti- 
ary." 

"Yes,"  answered  Jacob.  "I  have  the  credentials 
with  me."  He  laid  on  the  top  of  the  table  between 
them  the  letter  which  his  wife  had  written  the 
evening  before,  dictated  by  the  Marchioness  of 
Villasis.  The  latter  read  it  carefully,  as  though  she 
had  not  seen  it  before,  and  then  returned  it  to  Jacob, 


saying:  "It  seems  quite  correct.  Now  Bismarck 
may  tell  me  what  he  proposes  to  do." 

"I  think  it  more  fitting,"  said  Jacob,  "that  M. 
Antonelli — shall  we  say? — should  expound  her 
policy,  or  rather  his,  first,  before  me." 

"Very  well,  I  shall  expound  mine  first,  waving 
all  ceremony.  My  policy  is:  'Our  Father  who  art 
in  Heaven — Thy  will  be  done — Forgive  us  our 
trespasses,  as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass  against 
us — Lead  us  not  into  temptation — Deliver  us  from 
evil.'  " 

The  Marchioness  so  stressed  some  of  these 
words  that  her  policy  was  easily  understood  by 
Jacob.  He,  whose  sins  were  thus  pardoned,  under- 
stood her  remarks  to  mean  but  this,  and  was  filled 
with  hope. 

"This  is  Italian  policy,"  he  said.  "It  is  very 
clever." 

"Roman,  not  Italian,"  replied  the  Marchioness. 
"It  is  very  holy." 

** — ^ACOB  thought  that  the  moment  had  arrived 
\V"  when  it  would  be  better  to  drop  that  humorous 
tone  used  by  Spaniards  even  in  their  most 
serious  moments. 

"Listen  to  me,  Maria,"  he  said.  "I  am  pleased 
to  arrange  this  matter  with  you  rather  than  with 
Elvira,  for  you  are  a  woman  who  knows  the  world, 
and  can  therefore  the  more  readily  understand  my 
position.  Elvira  is  an  angel  with  swan's  wings. 
You  are  an  angel  with  the  wings  of  an  eagle." 

It  was  a  well-turned  simile,  and  the  Marchioness 
smiled  at  the  compliment. 

"My  situation,"  continued  Jacob,  "is  simply 
this.  I  have  been  much  in  the  world,  and  I  am 
tired  of  it.  The  higher  I  have  been  raised  in  life, 
the  more  contemptible  have  my  triumphs  become  to 
me.     I  have  ascended  to  high  peaks — " 

"You  should  not  say  ascended,  but  descended" 
interrupted  the  Marchioness.  "You  should  say  that 
you  have  descended  into  the  mire  and  lost  sight 
of  virtue,  that  all  ideas  of  honor  and  decency  were 
lost." 

This  sudden  attack  disconcerted  Jacob.  He  bit 
his  lips  and  said  bitterly:  "This  is  Roman  policy 
filled  with  intolerance." 

"Yours  then  is  Bismarkian,  with  criminal — 
notice  that  I  say  criminal — condescensions." 


V 


ACOB  paled  with  anger  and  bowed  his  head. 
He   knew   that  his   evasive   moral   criterion, 


THE  1*  SIGN 


which  covers  vices  with  pompous  names,  was  reject- 
ed as  false  under  present  circumstances;  that  the 
Roman  policy  called  vice,  vice ;  and  infamy,  infamy. 
He  therefore  came  to  the  conclusion  that  he  had 
made  a  mistake  in  trying 
to  justify  his  past.  He  re- 
solved to  repudiate  his 
past  emphatically. 

"You  are  doubtless 
right,  Maria,  "he  said  at 
length."  "But  you  must 
admit  that  it  is  not  at  all 
charitable  to  refuse  to 
lend  a  helping  hand  to  one 
who  wishes  to  live  decent- . 
ly.    Father  Cifuentes,  "he 


© 


To  a  Skylark 

Harold  Reid 


added,  "who  is  more 
Roman  than  you  are,  has 
not  refused." 

"What  did  Father 
Cifuentes  say  to  you?" 

"He  gave  me  this 
letter  to  give  to  you." 
And  Jacob  handed  the 
letter  to  her. 

The  Marchioness  read 
this,  as  she  read  the  previ- 
ous one,  as  if  its  contents 
were  unknown  to  her. 
Then  she  said:  "This  is 
quite  another  thing.  Father 
Cifuentes'  slightest  word 
is  law  to  me.  Explain 
what  you  wish  to  me  care- 
fully and  concisely." 

Jacob  at  last  believed 
that  he  was  mastering  the 
situation.  What  plan 
could  he  have  other  than 
of  passing  his  whole  life 
in  fervent  adoration  of 
Elvira,  satisfied  with  burn- 
ing at  a  distance,  like  the 
candle  of  a  beggar,  on  the 
lowest  portion  of  the 
altar?  He  owned  an  old 
castle  in  Granada,  with  lands  and  forests,  where  he 
hoped  to  retire,  and  there  realize  the  ideal  Grandee 
of  old  Spain,  as  master  and  protector  of  the  dis- 
trict. Would  Elvira  go  with  him  to  this  retreat? 
There  would  be  noble  work  there  aplenty. 


Airy,  rejoicing  creature 
When  in  the  mottled  sky 
I  can  perceive  no  feature 
Yet  hear  thy  rapture  cry" 
I  v?ould  suppose  an  angel 
Forgetting  heavenly  birth 
Were  hovering  in  the  ether 
Singing  to  charm  the  earth. 


Were  y'ou  a  bird  of  night-time 
Off  in  the  sky  afar 
Thy  wing  so  lofty  flying 
Would  brush  a  dusty  star. 
Wherefore  do'st  tune  thy  music 
Whence  thy  joy-theme  inspired 
Sure  'tis  a  theft  from  heaven 
Eloquence  heaven-fired. 

Does  brightness  make  thy1  singing 
Or  does  thy1  lay1  unfold 
Clouds  that  enshrined  tke  blueness 
Freeing  the  sunshine  gold. 
If  you  vJould  sing  forever 
The  sun  would  ever  shine 
Heedless  of  hours  of  darknecs 
Caught  by  such  strains  divine. 

Sing  on,  thou  dear  delighter 
Tense  thy  throat  yet  a  while 
God  ment  that  'thereal  gayness 
To  teach  the  sad  to  smile. 
Ah,  now,  your  melody's  ended 
Tru,  I  had  never  known 
HovJ  near  I  was  to  heaven 
But  thou  art  still  and  flown. 


HE  Marchioness  listened  to  his  romantic  and 
eloquent   tirade    with    extreme    wonder,   for 
among  Elvira's  papers  she  had  the  deed  of 
sale  for  the  very  castle  of  which  Jacob  spoke,  sold 
to    satisfy   Jacob's    credi- 
tors, and  which  Elvira  had 
secretly   purchased    from 
the    usurers    in    order    to 
own  this  last  relic  of  the 
family  to  which  her  son 
belonged. 

The  Marchioness  still 
smiled  good-humoredly  in 
the  face  of  this  ignoble 
farce,  and  hastened  to  tell 
Jacob  that  she  could 
imagine  no  plan  more  in 
keeping  with  Elvira's 
tastes;  that  she  accepted 
it  without  hesitation  and 
would  herself  indorse  the 
plan. 

"Is  it  not  true  that 
mine  is  a  splendid  idea?" 
exclaimed  Jacob.  To  be 
sure,  he  added,  he  had 
heard  in  Paris  that  Elvira 
had  won  an  imporant  law- 
suit and  was,  as  a  result, 
very  wealthy.  This  had 
made  him  hesitate  in  his 
plan,  because  the  world 
was  malicious  and  would 
not  hesitate  to  say  that 
this  step  of  his  was  due 
not  to  repentance  for  past 
evil,  but  merely  a  play  for 
his  wife's  money.  That  is 
why  he  had  proposed  re- 
tiring to  his  castle  where 
they  could  live  on  an  in- 
come which  was  his 
own. 

"As  I  hear  you,  Jacob, 
the  more  my  ideas  coincide  with  yours.  Any 
decent  man  would  feel  as  you  feel,  and  I 
have  a  very  simple  remedy  for  all  your 
scruples." 

"What  is  that?"    queried  Jacob,  in  suspense. 


30 


THE  t  SIGN 


OHE  Marchioness  raised  the  lid  of  her  desk, 
and  taking  out  the  document  which  she  had 
written  the  evening  before,  showed  it  to  Jacob, 
saying  with  a  frank  and  charming  smile:  "Sign  this, 
and  the  Rubicon  is  crossed." 

Jacob  read  the  document  with  surprise.  His 
lips  contracted  and  his  cheeks  reddened.  "But, 
Maria:  this  is  impossible.    I  can  never  sign  this." 

The  document  was  a  complete  renunciation  of 
all  authority  which  the  law  might  allow  in  the 
administration  of  his  wife's  property,  or  in  the 
management  of  his  son's  patrimony.  Jacob  was 
furious  at  finding  himself  caught  in  his  own  meshes, 
while  the  Marchioness,  seemingly  much  astonished, 
asked  him:  "Why  can't  you  sign?  What's  wrong 
about  this?" 

"If — if  I  sign  that,  I  would  renounce  my  position 
as  a  husband." 

"On  the  contrary,  it  raises  your  position  and 
dignity  as  a  husband  in  public  opinion." 

"There  are  surely  cases  where  the  testimony 
of  one's  own  conscience  is  sufficient  for  a  man  of 
honor." 

"But,  man  of  honor!  You  have  said  that  honor 
depends  on  public  opinion." 

Jacob  could  find  no  way  of  escape  by  argument; 
so  breaking  through  all  forms  of  constraint,  he 
cried  angrily:  "Roman  policy,  with  all  its  vile 
priestly  intrigues!" 

"Be  careful  what  you  say,  Jacob!"  exclaimed 
the  Marchioness  emphatically,  "or  you  will  make  me 
think  that  your  Bismarkian  policy  covers  some 
infamy." 

"Yours  covers  some  intrigue  in  which  Father 
Cifuentes'  hand  is  visible." 

"Father  Cifuentes'  hand!  Poor  Father  Cifu- 
entes!   I  cannot  detect  it." 

** — t'ACOB  was  silent.  Finally  the  Marchioness 
ffl-  asked  him,  without  losing  her  serene  placidi- 
ty: "Do  you  absolutely  decline  to  sign  this?" 

"I  shall  not  sign,"  replied  Jacob  furiously. 

"Then  it  is  evident  that  if  the  reconciliation  is 
not  to  be  effected,  that  the  fault  is  yours  and  yours 
alone,  for  your  wife  has  yielded  all  that  can  be 
yielded,  and  your  very  suspicious  obstinacy  destroys 
all  that  might  have  been  accomplished." 

"I  ignore  all  that  you  and  that  Cifuentes  have 
been  plotting.  But  I  shall  have  some  kind  of  under- 
standing with  Elvira." 

"Elvira  will  not  come  to  Biarritz." 


"I  will  go,  then,  to  where  she  is." 

"I  think  you  will  not!" 

"We  are  not  separated  legally,  and  the  law 
allows  me  to  reclaim  my  wife  and  son  whenever  I 
so  please." 

The  Marchioness  drew  herself  up  in  her  chair 
in  a  menacing  manner:  "Try  to  do  that.  Dare  to 
do  that,  and  the  second  you  make  a  move  she  will 
present  to  the  court  a  plea  for  a  divorce  which  will 
ruin  you  entirely." 

"Let  her  present  it,  if  she  so  wishes.  Where 
are  the  proofs?" 

"She  has  them,  Jacob!  Sufficient  for  a  divorce, 
and  enough  to  imprison  someone!  Patience  has  a 
limit,  and  also  for  foxes,  when  lambs  cease  to  be 
lambs!" 

^^HE  Marchioness'  insinuation  frightened  Jacob 

^SJ   and  he  immediately  tried  to  discover  if  the 

existence  of  these  proofs  was  but  a  pretence. 

"You  cannot  terrify  me  with  mere  words,  "he 
cried  disdainfully.  My  conscience  tells  me  that  no 
such  proofs  exist." 

"Maybe  your  eyes  will  convince  your  con- 
science," said  the  Marchioness  quickly.  Opening 
a  little  drawer  in  her  desk,  she  showed  Jacob  from 
a  distance  a  package  consisting  of  four  or  five 
letters,  saying:  "Rosa  Penarron's  handwriting  and 
yours  are  so  clear  that  experts  would  not  be  needed 
in  court  to  identify  them." 

All  the  blood  in  Jacob's  body  rushed  to  his 
face,  and  with  one  of  those  brutal  instincts  which 
show  themselves  in  the  natural  man,  he  made  a 
move  as  if  to  snatch  them  from  the  woman.  But 
she,  quick  as  lightning,  ran  to  the  open  window, 
and  leaning  out  with  the  letters  in  her  hand,  cried 
with  great  vehemence:  "Mademoiselle,  take  the 
rope  away  from  Monica  or  she  will  fall!  "Then, 
turning  toward  Jacob,  a  trifle  pale  but  still  calm, 
she  added,  still  at  the  window:  "I  thought  she  would 
kill  herself!  Children  are  always  frightening 
one." 

Jacob  had  remained  in  his  seat,  but  now  stam- 
mered:  "Is  Monica  with  you?" 

"Of  course  she  is!    Would  you  like  to  see  her?" 

And,  without  pausing  for  an  answer,  she  called 
again:  "Mademoiselle,  bring  the  child  in  here." 

Monica  soon  entered,  followed  by  her  governess, 
and  ran  to  jump  onto  her  grandmother's  lap,  look- 
ing at  Jacob  with  the  smile  of  a  child  who  is 
petted  by  everybody. 


31 


THE  1*  SldN 


COMPLETELY  surprised,  Jacob  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  her,  seeking  in  vain  for  an  explanation 
as  to  how  Elvira  had  secured  possession  of 
these  letters,  which  were  undeniable  proofs  of  one 
of  the  most  compromising  episodes  of  his  career. 
The  Marchioness  kissed  her  grandchild  affection- 
ately, thanking  God  from  the  bottom  of  her  heart 
for  having  given  Jacob  this  blow  from  a  tin-bladed 
sword;  for  these  terrible  papers  were  but  a  few 
letters  from  her  lawyers,  which  she  had  kept  in  the 
little  drawer  of  her  desk. 

What  she  had  accused  Jacob  of  was  certain, 
but  no  proofs  existed;  and  Rosa  Penarron,  his  only 
accomplice,  having  been  dead  for  two  years,  it 
would  be  impossible  for  Jacob  to  discover  the 
deception. 

Jacob  coldly  took  his  leave.  Filled  with  rage, 
bewildered,  he  jumped  into  his  carriage  and  told 


the  driver  to  go  to  an  hotel  in  Bayonne  where  he  had 
stayed  the  night  before.  Biarritz  was  too  small  to 
stay  hidden  there  successfully  from  the  Spanish 
politicians  and  emigrants  who  thronged  the  place 
since  the  fall  of  Amadeo  and  the  proclamation  of 
the  Republic. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  Jacob's  undeceiv- 
ing had  been  a  cruel  one,  and  with  his  illusions 
destroyed,  there  arose  in  his  soul  a  terrible  anxiety 
and  fury  against  the  Marchioness  of  Villasis  and 
Father  Cifuentes,  the  rage  which  the  wicked  feel 
against  those  who,  they  know,  have  full  right  to 
despise  them.  Of  all  the  wounds  which  he  carried 
in  his  soul,  none  hurt  him  more  than  that  one  of 
the  victors  had  been  a  priest. 

In  the  full  fury  of  his  rage  he  felt  like  strangling 
the  quick  witted  Marchioness  of  Villasis  with  the 
bandana  handkerchief  of  the  hypocritical  Cifuentes. 


{To  be  continued) 


St.    Augustine's    Seasonable    Homily 


^^^HE  feast  of  the  Precious  Blood  is  now  immov- 
y  J  able  and  is  assigned  to  the  first  day  of  July. 
The  Church  dedicates  this  month  to  the 
special  honor  of  the  Precious  Blood.  The  gospel 
of  the  feast  includes  the  verse  from  St.  John  "But 
one  of  the  soldiers  with  a  spear  opened  His  Side, 
and  immediately  there  came  out  blood  and  water." 
We  transcribe  St.  Augustine's  commentary: 

"The  evangelist  carefully  chose  his  word,  not 
saying  "he  pierced"  or  "he  wounded"  or  any  other, 
but  "he  opened"  His  Side,  for  then  in  a  certain 
manner  a  door  of  life  was  opened  whence  issued  the 
sacraments  of  the  Church,  without  which  there  is  no 
entering  into  the  life  which  is  the  true  life.  This 
blood  which  came  forth  was  shed  for  the  remission 
of  sins.  Water  gives  wholesome  refreshment:  this 
water  also  cleanses  and  refreshes.  We  are  reminded 
that  Noah  made  a  door  in  the  side  of  the  ark  by 
which  the  animals  that  were  not  to  perish  might 
enter,  by  all  of  which  the  Church  was  foreshadowed. 
Similarly  the  first  woman  was  formed  from  the  side 
of  the  sleeping  man,  and  she  was  called  life  and  the 
mother  of  the  living.     Thus  a  great  blessing  was 


indicated  even  before  the  great  evil  of  the  fall. 
Upon  the  second  Adam,  his  Head  bowed,  a  sleep  is 
cast  and  unto  Him  a  Spouse  is  formed  who  came 
forth  from  the  Side  of  Him  sleeping. 

O  Death,  whereby  the  dead  are  revived!  What 
is  there  fairer  than  that  Blood  ?  What  more  whole- 
some than  that  wound?  .  .  .  Men  were  held  in 
bondage  by  the  devil  and  ministered  to  demons; 
but  now  they  are  delivered  from  bondage.  They 
were  able  to  surrender  themselves,  but  to  free  them- 
selves they  were  unable.  The  Redeemer  came  and 
paid  the  price,  shed  His  Blood  and  ransomed  the 
world.  Do  ye  ask  what  He  purchased?  Behold 
what  He  gave  and  you  will  discover  what  He 
bought.  The  Blood  of  Christ  is  the  price.  What 
is  its  value?  What  but  the  whole  world?  What 
but  all  nations?  Men  either  fail  to  esteem  their 
ransom  or  are  exceedingly  vain  who  say  that  the 
price  sufficed  to  deliver  only  one  nation,  or  that  they 
themselves  are  so  mighty  that  it  could  be  given 
only  for  them.  Banish  the  vain  thought.  What 
He  gave,  He  gave  for  all." 


What   Do   You   Know   About: 


Vocations? 


HFEW  years  ago  a  priest  and  teacher  in 
a  foreign  seminary,  who  consequently  had 
much  to  do  with  the  important  question 
of  vocation,  wrote  a  book  on  this  most 
important  subject.  In  this  book  called  "The  Priestly 
Vocation,"  he  combats  the  prevailing  idea  that  a 
vocation  consists  in  the  subjective  feeling  that  God 
wishes  one  to  enter  the  priesthood;  or,  in  a  certain 
attraction  or  inclination  to  that  state. 

The  author  did  not  deny  that  a  vocation  is 
necessary  for  the  priesthood,  but  contrary  to  the 
commonly  accepted  belief,  said  that  the  vocation 
required  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  call  of 
the  bishop  admitting  one  to  Holy  Orders.  With 
reason  we  can  infer  from  this  teaching,  that  in 
the  case  of  one  desirous  of  entering  the  religious 
life,  vocation  consists  in  the  call  from  the  superiors 
of  a  community  to  the  aspirant  to  profess  the  vows 
of  religion.  However,  before  such  a  call  comes 
from  the  bishop  or  religious  superiors,  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  vocation;  there  can  be  at  most,  only 
a  fitness  or  disposition  to  receive  such  a  call. 

Such  positive  and  unmistakable  teaching 
opposed  to  the  generally  received  opinion  called 
forth  a  storm  of  protest.  Immediately  a  dispute 
arose  about  the  doctrine  of  vocation.  This  was 
finally  settled  when  the  Holy  Father,  Pope  Pius  X. 
approved  the  book  and  its  teachings  and  decreed 
as  follows : 

1.  No  one  has  any  right  to  ordination  ante- 
cedently to  the  free  choice  of  the  bishop. 

2.  One  condition  to  be  looked  for  on  the  part 
of  the  one  to  be  ordained,  and  which  is  called  the 
sacerdotal  vocation,  by  no  means  consists,  at  least 
not  necessarily  and  as  ordinary  law,  in  a  certain 
internal  aspiration  of  the  subject  or  an  incitement 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  enter  the  priesthood. 

3.  On  the  contrary,  nothing  more  is  required 
in  the  one  to  be  ordained  than  that  he  be  lawfully 
called  by  the  bishop;  that  he  have  a  right  intention, 
together  with  the  fitness  found  in  those  gifts  of 
grace  and  nature,  and  proven  by  that  probity  of 
life  and  sufficient  learning.  All  which  give  a  well 
grounded  hope  that  he  will  worthily  perform  the 


duties  of  a  priest,  and  comply  with  his  obligations 
in  a  holy  manner. 

This  then  is  the  doctrine  of  the  Church  in 
regard  to  this  important  subject.  It  is  the  vocation 
which  gives  one  the  right  to  become  a  priest.  God 
does  not  manifest  a  vocation  independently  of  the 
call  of  the  bishop  to  Holy  Orders.  The  bishop's 
call  is  to  be  regarded  as  the  call  of  God,  or, 
vocation  properly  so  called. 

In  the  second  paragraph  the  Church  expressly 
declares  that  the  vocation  which  is  necessary  for 
ordination,  does  not  consist  (at  least  not  necessarily, 
nor  ordinarily)  in  an  interior  feeling  or  attraction  to 
enter  the  priesthood. 

The  Church  finally  teaches  that  the  bishop 
in  giving  the  call  to  Holy  Orders  and  to  the  priest- 
hood must  be  assured  that  the  aspirant  has  a  right 
intention  and  that  he  be  fitted  for  this  sublime  office 
physically  mentally  and  morally.  What  has  been 
said  thus  far  concerning  the  priesthood,  applies  by 
inference  to  the  religious  life.  The  idea  which  has 
been  held  by  many  since  the  Seventeenth  century 
that  vocation  consists  in  the  subjective  feeling  that 
God  wishes  one  to  be  a  priest,  or,  in  the  inclination 
or  attraction  for  the  priesthood,  is  utterly  false  and 
calculated  to  do  much  harm. 

We  come  now  to  some  practical  conclusions. 
What  must  the  boy  or  girl,  the  young  man  or  young 
woman  do  in  order  to  decide  what  state  of  life  they 
shall  embrace?  In  other  words,  how  are  they  to 
find  out  if  they  are  called,  or  have  a  vocation  to 
the  priesthood,  the  religious  life,  or  to  the  married 
state  ? 

After  long  and  earnest  prayer  and  frequent 
reception  of  the  sacraments  they  should  ask  them- 
selves these  two  questions : 

1.  Am  I  able,  physically,  mentally,  and  holily, 
to  fulfill  the  duties  of  this  state  in  life? 

2.  Is  my  intention  in  desiring  to  enter  this  state 
of  life  pleasing  in  the  eyes  of  God? 

If  the  conscientious  answer  to  these  two 
questions  be  in  the  affirmative,  you  need  have  no 
hesitation  in  aspiring  to  enter  the  priesthood,  the 
religious  life,  or,  the  married  state. 


33 


ArcKconfraternit))  of 


the   Sacred    P 


assion 


The   Heart  of  Jesus  Crucified 


aNTIL  now,  in  the   successive  numbers   of 
THE     SIGN,     we     have     explained     the 
Nature  and  End  of  this  Archconfraternity. 
If    anyone    should    wish    further    inform- 
ation on  this  subject,  we  request  them  to  write  to 
THE  SIGN,  and  their  questions  will  be  answered  in 
the  next  issue  of  the  magazine. 

As  this  Section  of  THE  SIGN  is  devoted  to 
the  interests  of  the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion, 
all  important  announcements,  as  also  all  items  of 
news  from  the  different  branches  of  the  Archconfra- 
ternity will  henceforth  appear  herein.  We  invite 
the  Reverend  Directors  of  the  Different  branches 
to  send  us,  from  time  to  time,  for  publication,  items 
of  news  which  are  of  more  than  local  interest,  and 
which  will  tend  to  advance  the  grand  purpose  of  the 
Archconfraternity. 

Our  chief  object,  however,  in  this  section  of 
THE  SIGN  will,  hereafter,  be  to  give  practical 
instructions  on  the  subject  of  Meditation  on  Christ's 
Sacred  Passion.  After  devoting  some  short  space 
to  Archconfraternity  Announcements,  to  Answers  to 
Questions  from  the  Members,  and  to  News  Items 
from  the  different  Branches,  we  will  treat  of  the 
subject  of  Meditation  on  the  Passion  of  Jesus  Christ. 

NECESSITY  OF  MEDITATION  FOR  A 
CHRISTIAN    LIFE 

>«EDITATION  on  the  great  truths  of  religion 
vfJ  is  indispensibly  necessary  for  a  true  Christian 
life.  The  Christian  life  is  a  supernatural  life 
— a  life  animated,  ruled,  controlled  and  guided  by 
the  supernatural  truths  of  religion.  These  truths 
have  been  revealed  to  us  by  God  purposely  that 
they  might  serve  us  as  the  light  and  guide  and 
animating  principle  of  our  life.  Mere  knowledge  of 
them,  however,  is  not  sufficient. 

Now  Meditation  is  the  only  natural  means  by 
which  such  deep  conviction,  keen  appreciation  and 
vivid  realization  of  truth  can  be  attained.     This  is 


owing  to  the  very  condition  of  the  human  mind, 
at  least  in  its  present  state.  Truth  cannot  be 
thoroughly  appreciated  and  vividly  grasped  without 
a  mental  effort.  We  must  open  the  eyes  of  the 
mind  and  gaze  fixedly  upon  truth,  if  we  will  take 
it  in,  bring  it  home,  thoroughly  grasp  its  meaning 
and  vividly  realize  its  import,  just  as  we  must 
open  our  bodily  eyes  and  gaze  fixedly  at  material 
objects,  if  we  will  take  them  in  and  apprehend 
them  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  impressed  by  them. 
This  opening  of  the  mind's  eyes  and  gazing  fixedly 
at  truth  is  what  is  meant  by  Meditation. 

"MY  HEART  GREW  HOT  WITHIN  ME 
AND  IN  MY  MEDITATION  A  FIRE  SHALL 
FLAME  OUT."  says  holy  David.  Tis  through 
Meditation  and  only  through  meditation  that  the 
flame  of  faith  and  religious  fervor  is  kept  alive  and 
the  fire  of  divine  love  and  zeal  are  enkindled  in 
the  soul. 

On  the  other  hand  the  radical  cause  of  all  sin 
and  religious  indifference  in  this  world,  is  the 
neglect  of  serious  thought  or  meditation  on  the  truths 
of  religion.  Men  allow  their  minds  and  hearts  to 
be  completely  engrossed  with  the  things  of  this 
world  and  don't  give  themselves  time  to  take  a 
serious  view  of  life — to  think  of  God  and  their  souls 
and  the  life  after  death.  "WITH  DESOLATION 
IS  THE  WHOLE  LAND  MADE  DESOLATE, 
BECAUSE  THERE  IS  NO  ONE  WHO  THINKS 
IN  HIS  HEART."     says  the  Prophet  Jeremias. 


PECULIAR  EFFICACY  OF  MEDITATION  ON 
THE  PASSION 

QLL  that  we  say  here  of  the  salutary  effects  of 
Meditation  on  the  truths  of  religion  is  partic- 
ularly true  of  Meditation  on  the  Sacred  Passion 
of  our  Lord  and  Saviour.     The   Passion  of  Jesus 
Christ  is  an  epitome  of  all  His  teaching — a  summing 
up  and  confirmation  of  all  the  truths  of  religion. 


34 


THE  +  SIGN 


Nothing  reveals  so  clearly  the  majesty  and  sanctity 
and  justice  of  God  as  the  atonement  which  Jesus 
was  required  to  make  for  human  sin;  nothing  pro- 
claims so  loudly  the  vanity  of  all  things  earthly  as 
the  sufferings  Jesus  underwent  for  human  salvation; 
nothing  brings  home  so  vividly  the  goodness  of  God 
for  men  as  the  death  Jesus  endured  through  love  of 
men.  How  can  anyone  think  seriously  of  the  details 
of  Christ's  Passion — the  Agony  in  the  Garden,  the 
Scourging  at  the  Pillar,  the  Crowning  with  Thorns, 
the  Mockery  and  Insults,  and  the  Bloody  Tragedy  of 
Calvery  and  not  be  deeply  impressed. 

MEDITATION  ON  THE  PASSION 
The  Distinctive  Feature  of  the  Passionist  Order. 

DOW  this  Meditation  on  the  Passion  is  the  dis- 
tinctive feature  of  the  Passionist  Order.  St. 
Paul  of  the  Cross,  our  Holy  Founder,  was 
preeminently  the  Saint  of  the  Crucified.  'Twas 
meditation  on  the  Passion  that  made  him  a  saint. 
The  thought  of  the  sufferings  of  Jesus  was  ever 
uppermost  in  his  mind.  His  own  experience,  there- 
fore, convinced  him  that  what  meditation  on  the 
Passion  had  effected  in  his  soul,  it  could  also  effect 
in  the  souls  of  others,  and  this  led  him  to  establish 
his  Order.  So  that  Passionists  are  first  to  sanctify 
themselves  through  habitual  meditation  on  the 
Passion,  and  then,  they  are  to  labor  for  the  salvation 
and  sanctification  of  others  by  striving  to  lead  them 
to  meditate  on  the  Passion.  Speaking  of  his  mis- 
sioners,  St.  Paul  says:  "Let  them  teach  the  people 
to  meditate  devoutly  on  the  mysteries,  sufferings 
and  death  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  from  whom  as 
from  a  fountain  proceedeth  all  our  good. 
This  profitable  and  salutary  consideration  is  a 
most  efficacious  means  for  withdrawing  the  minds 
of  men  from  iniquity  and  leading  them  on  to  the 
Christian  perfection  at  which  we  aim."  "And,"  he 
continues,  "Let  them  briefly  and  perspicuously 
deliver  rules  for  meditation  on  the  Passion  and 
Death  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  spare  no  pains  to  render 
this  meditation  very  frequent  and  continual."  And 
again  in  another  place  in  his  Rules,  he  repeats  the 
same  injunction :  "Let  them  not  only  exhort,  but 
also  instruct  the  people  how  to  meditate  piously  on 
the  mysteries  of  the  Life,  Passion  and  Death  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Let  them  teach  and  instruct 
them  to  accustom  themselves  to  prayer,  and  at  the 
same  time,  lay  open  and  refute  the  pernicious  error 
of   some  who   imagine   that  meditation   on   Divine 


Things  is  an  employment  proper  only  for  Religious 
and  for  the  Clergy." 

MEDITATION   ON   THE   PASSION 
The  Grand  Object  of  the  Archconfraternity 

QOW  the  Archconfraternity  of  the  Passion  is 
one  of  the  ways  by  which  the  Passionist 
Order  promotes  this  devotion  to  Christ's 
Passion.  The  grand  object  of  this  Archconfraternity 
is  to  lead  Christian  people  to  tha  regular  practice  of 
meditation  on  Christ's  Sacred  Passion.  This  is  why 
we  will  for  the  future,  every  month,  devote  some 
space  in  THE  SIGN  to  the  all  important  subject 
of  Meditation  on  Christ's  Passion.  We  propose  to 
explain  the  Nature  of  Meditation  or  Mental  Prayer; 
to  expound  a  Method  of  Mental  Prayer;  and 
especially  to  give  numerous  instances  or  samples  of 
Meditations  on  our  Lord's  Sacred  Passion,  so  as  to 
afford  every  help  to  the  practice  of  daily  meditation 
on  the  Passion. 

We  feel  assured  that  these  instructions  on  the 
subject  of  Meditation  on  the  Passion,  will  be  most 
welcome  to  the  readers  of  THE  SIGN,  especially 
to  the  members  of  the  Archconfraternity.  There 
are  vast  numbers  of  truly  devout  Catholics  in  this 
country  to-day,  frequent  communicants,  who  sin- 
cerely desire  to  live  all  for  God  and  to  grow  in  His 
holy  love — Catholics  who  are  not  contented  with 
merely  performing  their  strict  duty  by  keeping  the 
Commandments  of  God  and  His  Church,  but  are 
ambitious  to  do  more  than  what  is  of  strict  obli- 
gation; who  really  yearn  for  Christian  Perfection 
and  for  a  life  of  prayer  and  union  with  God, 
but  are  held  back  by  ignorance  of  a  Method  of 
Meditation  or  Mental  Prayer.  Perhaps  they  never 
even  heard  of  such  a  thing  as  mental  prayer  or  at 
least  never  understood  that  it  was  something  which 
the  laity  should  practice  as  well  as  the  clergy  and 
religious.  If  such  generous  souls  could  be  brought 
to  understand  the  benefits  of  Mental  Prayer  or 
Meditation  —  especially  Meditation  on  Christ's 
Sacred  Passion,  and  if  they  could  be  induced  to  give 
some  time  daily  to  this  exercise,  how  rapid  would 
be  their  spiritual  progress! 

We  hope  to  reach  many  of  these  devout  souls 
through  the  pages  of  THE  SIGN,  and  in  the  words 
of  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross,  "lay  open  and  refute  the 
pernicious  error  that  meditation  on  Divine  things 
is  an  employment  proper  only  for  religious  and  the 
clergy." 


With  the   Passionists   in   China 


XT  was,  I  think,  an  inspiration 
to  finish  our  last  letter  to 
THE  SIGN  while  on  board 
the  river  steamer  in  sight  of  Shen 
Cho  Fu,  as  it  would  have  been  next 
to  impossible  to  add 
anything  to  it  after 
arrival  for  many- 
reasons,  which  this 
letter  shall  give  in 
detail  and  at  length. 
In  that  same  letter 
we  promised  to  give 
some  idea  of  our 
Mission  and  our 
plans  for  the  future 
in  its  regard.  We 
think  now  it  were 
better  to  defer  this 
to  yield  place  to 
what  is  of  more 
pressing  need,  and 
doubtless  of  greater 
interest  to  the 
readers  of  THE 
SIGN. 

You  have  already 
received,  it  is  as- 
sumed, several  short 
letters  that  we  sent, 
as  it  was  not  possi- 
ble at  the  time  to 
send  more  detailed 
information  con- 
cerning the  famine 
that  is  raging  like 
a  vast  conflagration 
over  a  large  area  of 
North  and  West 
Hunan.  The  dis- 
trict affected  was 
entirely  in  charge 
of  the  Spanish 
Augustinian 
Fathers.  Since  we 
came  and  have 
taken  formal  pos- 
session of  the  dis- 
trict assigned  to  us  by  the  Sacred 
Congregation  of  the  Propagation 
of  the  Faith,  we  share  with  the 
Augustinians  the  area  included  in 
the  Famine  District. 

It  may  seem  rash  to  say  that  few, 
if  any,  of  the  readers  of  THE  SIGN 


can  imagine  the  pitiable  sights  and 
intense  sufferings  that  are  implied  in 
the  one  word  "FAMINE." 


o 


URING    the    last    two    years 
there    has    been    insufficient 


months  of  1920-1921.  The  Chinese 
merchants  are  not  less  wise  than  the 
merchants  elsewhere,  and  profiteer- 
ing was  the  order  of  the  day.  Rice 
was  scarce,  and  they  who  had  it  de- 
manded enormous  prices,and  the  mid- 
dle classes  and  the 
poor  were  barely 
able  to  live  through 
last  year.  There 
was  some  want  and 
some  deaths,  but  it 
was  mostly  in  the 
outlying  districts, 
and  in  Hunan  it 
never  became  gen- 
eral. 

Another  cause  of 
shortage  was  the 
civil  war  in  China. 
The  regular  and 
rebel  army  had  to 
be  provisioned,  so 
advance  agents 
were  sent  into 
every  section  of  the 
country  and  offered 
tempting  prices  to 
those  who  held  the 
stores  of  grain.  The 
added  profit  was 
eagerly  grasped  and 
the  rice  was  trans- 
ported to  a  central 
depot  to  be  requisi- 
tioned and  sent  to 
the  soldiers  when 
needed. 


Q 


"I   WAS   HUNGRY 
"AS  LONG  AS  YOU 
TO    ME—" 


AND   YOU   GAVE   ME   TO    EAT " 

DID  IT  TO  THE  LEAST  OF  MY   BRETHREN,  YOU  DID  IT 


rainfall  for  the  crops  of  rice  to 
mature  fully.  In  consequence  there 
was  a  stunted  growth  of  the  grain, 
which  ripened  all  too  soon  under 
the  burning  sun.  These  meagre 
crops  were  gathered  in  and  the  rice 
in  reserve  was  used  up  in  the  winter 
36 


O  alarm  was 
sounded  and 
no  fears  were 
entertained,  for  the 
Chinese  as  a  race 
are  not  a  far-seeing 
people,  and  worry 
seldom  disturbs  the 
calmness  of  their 
souls.  The  winter 
was  quite  spent  and  soon  the  new 
crops  would  be  harvested,  so  why 
be  disturbed  or  uneasy?  Instead  of 
anticipating  danger  they  rather  re- 
joiced at  the  large  profits  that  had 
come  to  them,  at  least,  so  thought 
the  profiteers. 


THE  1*  SIGN 


But  the  next  year's  crop  was  an 
utter  faHure!  The  long  continued 
drought  of  last  summer  burned  up 
th.c  young  shoots,  and  the  harvest 
was  not  more  than  5%  normal.  The 
merchants  who  had  even  a  meagre 
stock  of  rice  demanded  prohibitive 
prices,  and  the  common  people  were 
soon  reduced  to  extremities.  The 
scarcity  of  food  has  now  extended  to 
every  class,  and  to-day  no  one  in 
North  or  West  Hunan,  rich  or  poor, 
can  see  any  relief  till  the  next 
crop  is  gathered  in  the  early 
fall. 

^%J 'HERE  is  no  assistance 
§  )  to  be  expected  from 
^^^  the  Government,  nor 
from  other  Provinces  of  China. 
When  famine  devastates  one 
Province  the  others  are  apa- 
thetic or  indifferent  to  the 
cry  of  distress ;  nor  is  it 
certain  that  the  cry  of  dis- 
tress is  heard  by  the  rest  of 
China. 

The  means  of  communica- 
tion— telegraph  and  telephone 
— are  not  to  be  found  in  the 
interior;  even  in  large  cities 
they  are  few  in  number, 
primitive  in  arrangement,  most 
annoying,  and  unreliable. 
Newspapers  and  magazines 
arc  few  and  the  means  at  their 
command  for  gathering  news 
meagre  to  the  last  degree. 
There  are  no  railroads  near 
us;  and  when  the  water  is 
low  in  streams  and  lakes,  time 
or  schedule  means  nothing. 
The  coming  or  going  of  boats  A  5 
is  most  uncertain,  and  can 
never  be  relied  on.  From  all  these 
circumstances  and  conditions  it  can 
readily  be  seen  that  relief  organiza- 
tions such  as  you  know  in  America 
are  not  to  be  expected  here.  A 
flood  or  an  earthquake  occurs  in 
one  locality  in  America  to-day,  and 
before  nightfall,  relief  trains  sup- 
plied by  State  and  Federal  Authori- 
ties are  speeding  to  the  rescue.  But 
here  in  China  it  is  literally  true  that 
one  District  or  Province  has  no  care 
nor  concern  about  its  neighbors. 

The  foregoing  will  help  the 
readers  of  THE  SIGN  to  under- 
stand the  causes  that  have  led  up 
to  the  crisis  of  "FAMINE"  that  is 
now  present  in  Hunan ;  the  lack  of 


regular  i 

iter-ch 

inge  ot 

ii 

formation 

between 

dislric 

ts,    an< 

1 

why      the 

situation 

is  not 

»eing  r 

:lii 

ved.    The 

soldiers 

)l    botl 

reguh 

r 

and     rebel 

army   arc 

not    s 

iffering 

u 

ant;   they 

are  as  wt 

11   rationed   iio\ 

S  in  times 

of    plent; 

>,    but 

the     ci 

•ili 

ins,    men. 

women    i 

nd    chi 

dren,  ; 

re 

in   abjei  I 

poverty  ; 

nd  dying  of  st 

in 

ation. 

©s 

actual 
scriptk 

con, lit  i 
n.       ()i 

« 

:::n:i 

FOR    FOOD 


here  to  see  and  then  only,  can  one 
realize  what  it  means.  Many  of  the 
children  have  become  deformed, 
crippled,  and  blind  from  lack  of 
nourishment.  Deaths  among  the 
children  are  most  numerous. 

The  other  day  the  Spanish  Father 
who  is  with  us  called  me  to  the 
door.  A  woman  clad  in  rags  and 
tatters  begs  for  food,  and  a  little 
medicine  for  the  baby.  Two  tiny 
tots  are  huddled  in  a  basket  strapped 
to  her  back.  One  of  the  babies  is 
dying,  beyond  all  doubt.  It  is 
starved  to  death  as  is  the  mother. 
We  give  the  woman  a  bowl  of  rice. 
Then  Father  says  :  "I  will  now  give 
37 


the    medicine    to    the   baby;    the   only 

medicine  that  will  do  tins  child  any 
good."  I  raise  my  hand  and  pro- 
nounce the  words,  "I  baptize  thee  in 
the  name  of  the  Father,  and  of  the 
Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  This 
is    a    daily,   almost    an    hourly    oii  hi 

rence. 
On  the  Feast  of  the  Seven  Sorrows 

of  Mary  a  man  came  to  the  Mission 
ith  a  child  tied  to  his  back.  It  was 
deed  a  pitiable  sight  that  greeted 
us,  when  he  unstrapped  his 
burden  and  laid  it  before  us. 
An  infant,  not  more  than  a 
lew  months  old,  emaciated  and 
wasted  to  a  mere  skeleton. 
Tt  was  blind  in  both  eyes,  the 
nose  eaten  away  almost  en- 
tirely, and  the  little  body 
covered  from  head  to  tool 
with  disgusting  sores  that 
emitted  a  fetid  odor.  The 
father  asked  for  medicine. 
We  knew  its  days  were  num- 
bered so  Father  Raphael 
carried  it  to  the  church  and 
baptized  it ;  undoubtedly  it  has 
used  its  passport  to  heaven 
long  before  this. 

BFEW  days  after  that  a 
boy  came  to  the  Mis- 
sion and  by  shouting 
and  excited  gesticulations 
iskedusto  come  at  once.  Father 
Timothy  went  with  him  and 
the  sight  that  greeted  him 
would  make  a  life-long  im- 
pression if  it  was  not  being 
repeated  in  equally  harassing 
fashion  each  day.  The  father 
NT  and    mother    and    five    of    the 

seven  children  were  huddled 
together  on  the  floor  from  weakness 
and  from  disease  that  follows  in  the 
track  of  starvation.  He  baptized  the 
parents  and  the  children.  The 
mother  died  the  same  night  with 
one  of  the  children.  The  following 
day  the  father  died,  and  within 
the  next  two  days  three  other 
children.  We  brought  the  two 
orphans  to  the  Mission  and  if  need 
be,  shall  do  without  food  rather  than 
allow  the  first  ones  whom  Provi- 
dence has  sent,  to  go  without  shelter 
or    food. 

If  we  had  an  orphan  asylum  to 
care  for  the  abandoned  babies  and 
for    the    children    who    are    brought 


THE  +  SIGN 


to  us,  we  could  reach  out  for  hun- 
dreds of  little  ones  who  are  dying 
without  baptism.  The  other  day  I 
picked  up  a  New  York  newspaper 
that  was  used  in  packing  our  trunks, 
and  the  heading  that  caught  my 
eye    was : 

"Americans  Offer  $10.00  A  Bunch 
For   Paris   Asparagus." 

Imagine  my  thoughts  as  I  read 
this!  Is  it  possible  that  there  are 
among  such  Americans  wealthy 
Catholics,  who  squander  the 
price  of  salvation  for  dainties 
and  luxuries  whilst  literally 
thousands  of  human  beings 
are  starving  to  death  for  the 
absolute  necessities  of  life?  I 
have  thought  of  the  money 
spent  for  movies  and  theatres 
and  luxuries  of  all  kinds,  and 
it  staggers  one  to  think  of 
these  things  and  to  see  our 
helplessness  in  the  face  of 
such   misery. 

XF  only  some  one  from 
here  could  go  there  and 
preach  not  only  in  the 
churches  but  on  the  street 
corners  as  well,  and  make 
known  what  famine  and  star- 
vation mean!  It  is  certain 
that  for  every  dollar  given  to 
the  Mission  a  soul  can  be  won 
for  the  Church  and  for  Jesus 
Crucified.  What  slogan  would 
be  more  appealing:  "A  SOUL 
FOR  A  DOLLAR!"  Oh,  tell 
the  people,  and  tell  the  readers 
of  THE  SIGN,  and  tell  every- 
one in  America  how  precious 
in  God's  eyes  are  souls,  and 
the  privilege  that  is  theirs  to 
help  the  work  in  China  and  in  other 
foreign  Mission  Fields.  It  is  no 
exaggeration  to  say  that  hundreds 
could  be  fed  for  an  entire  week  for 
the  $10.00  spent  for  a  single  bunch 
of  asparagus. 

Fortunately  we  were  able  to  help 
many  and  are  still  helping  many  with 
the  money  given  us  before  our 
departure  from  America.  We  shall 
continue  our  help  to  the  last  penny 
and  feel  certain  that  God  will  send 
more  when  our  funds  are  exhausted. 


O  far,  I  have  written  only  or 
principally  of  the  famine  as 
it    affects    the    children;    but 


the  adult  population  is  suffering  as 
much  and  in  many  instances,  more ; 
for  natural  instincts  are  not  dead 
in  many  of  the  Chinese,  even  among 
the  pagans.  They  will  suffer  hunger 
themselves  to  give  to  their  children. 
One  family  was  visited  and  they 
were  at  the  time  eating.  Each  one 
had  a  bowl  of  boiled  grass  with  a 
few  grains  of  rice,  but  so  few,  that 
the  rice  in  the  bowls  of  the  entire 
family   would    not    fill   a   tablespoon. 


THE   REMNANT  OF  A   FAMILY   OF   SEVEN 
FAMINE    VICTIMS 

And  this  is  the  kind  of  nourishment 
that  alone  is  available  for  most  of 
the  people. 

In  some  places  the  parents  sell 
their  children,  principally  the  girls, 
at  $2.00  a  head.  They  are  sold  at 
public  auction,  and  at  times  are  given 
for  one  Mexican  dollar.  Reports 
have  come  to  us  that  parents  in  utter 
distress  and  distraction  have  killed 
and   eaten  their  own  children. 

All  this  widespread  and  general 
misery  will  continue  till  the  next 
crop  of  rice  is  gathered.  The  soldiers 
and  government  officials  have  full 
and  plenty,  and  they  show  no  con- 
cern  for  the  men  and  women  who 
38 


are  about  them  and  in  extreme  want. 
One  official  was  heard  to  say  when 
representations  were  made  to  him : 
"After  all,  what  difference  does  it 
make?  These  many  who  are  starv- 
ing to  death  now,  will  make  rice 
cheaper  for  those  who  are  alive 
next  year  I" 

\^fc  ' HE  government  has  estab- 
l  )  lished  one  relief  station  in 
^^^  Shen  Cho  Fu  (and  there 
should  be  at  least  a  score  or 
a  hundred).  This  station  is 
located  in  a  pagan  temple  at 
the  northern  end  of  the  city. 
Here  a  continued  stream  of 
poor  starved  humanity  is  pour- 
ing in  all  day.  Each  one  at 
certain  hours  is  given  a  watery 
soup  that  is  supposed  to  keep 
them  alive  till  the  next  day. 
As  each  receives  his  scanty 
allotment  a  clash  of  green 
paint  is  put  on  his  face  to 
show  the  public  that  he  has 
received  his  share  of  the 
government  bounty,  and  to 
prevent  his  returning  a  second 
time.  To  view  these  wrecks 
of  humanity  as  they  go  and 
come  from  the  temple,  would 
draw  pity  from  a  heart  of 
stone. 

The  other  day  a  woman 
came  to  one  of  the  Fathers 
asking  him  to  buy  two  big 
water  jars,  so  as  to  be  able 
with  the  money  to  buy  some- 
thing for  her  starving  brother. 
He  gave  her  a  dollar  and  told 
her  to  keep  the  jars.  When 
she  showed  the  money  to  her 
brother  he  was  pleased  and 
said :  "Now  give  me  a  bowl  of  rice 
and  then  I  shall  die  contented."  So 
it  happened.  He  was  given  the  bowl 
of  rice  and  the  next  day  he  died. 
He  was  in  such  a  weakened  condi- 
tion that  no  nourishment  could  save 
him. 

^^-^HERE  are  so  many  cases  like 
4  J  this  that  they  become  ordi- 
^-  nary  and  commonplace.  There 
are  hundreds  of  homes  in  which  for 
months  no  fire  has  been  lighted, 
because  they  have  nothing  to  cook. 
They  have  sold  their  utensils  and 
household  furniture,  yes,  and  cloth- 
ing and  other  necessities,  to  be  able 


THE  1*  SIGN 


to  buy  something  to  cat;  when 
everything  is  sold,  nothing  remains 
for  them  but  a  terrible  and  gnawing 
death    from   starvation. 

Nightly  they  die  in  the  streets. 
Nude  skeleton  figures  are  found  in 
groups  in  the  fields  and  roadways 
where  they  dropped  and  died  from 
hunger;  their  skin  drawn  over  their 
wasted  bones.  Each  morning  as  the 
sun  rises  it  is  but  to  show  the 
tragedies  that  famine  has  wrought 
during  the  dark  hours  of  the  night. 
No  exact  figures  can  be  given  of  the 
number  of  those  who  have  died,  or 
who  will  die  before  this  terrible 
scourge  has  spent  its  fury.  Many 
die  in  their  homes,  or  out  in  the 
fields.  To  the  government  they  are 
only  groups  of  beggars,  and  when 
they  are  gone  so  many  less  to  care 
for  and  feed. 

XT  is  worthy  of  note  that  whilst 
the  conditions  are  extreme 
with  no  relief  in  sight,  and 
the  authorities  show  no  concern, 
the  people  are  patient  and  seldom 
exhibit  impatience  or  discontent, 
much  less  show  any  disposition  to 
resort  to  violence  which  desperation 
might  readily  provoke.  There  are 
isolated  instances  but  they  are  the 
exception. 

Three  hundred  famine  sufferers 
invaded  the  city  of  Poo  Tung,  but 
were  pacified  when  the  merchants 
gave  them  3000  coppers.  The  refu- 
gees from  the  famine  districts  of 
Hunan  were  begging  for  food  and 
for  money  but  were  refused  all  aid 
by  the  merchants.  Provoked  by 
their  taunts  and  threats  they  began 
to  rob  the  shops  and  stores  of  every- 
thing in  sight.  The  word  was  soon 
passed  along  and  soon  all  the  shops 
were  closed  and  barred ;  then  the 
refugees  began  to  loot  private 
houses.  They  were  finally  induced 
to  leave  by  the  united  action  of 
merchants  and  people. 

No  estimate  has  been  made  of 
the  number  who  must  die  for  want 
of  food  in  Hunan.  There  are 
6,000,000  in  the  grip  of  famine  which 
has  followed  on  the  two  years  of 
drought  in  which  no  crops  have 
been  harvested.  More  than  half  of 
this    number    are    in    our    Missions. 


In  the  June  issue  of  THE  SIGN, 
it  was  proposed  to  begin  the  found- 
ing of  two  Burses;  one  in  honor  of 
the  great  Founder  of  the  Passionist 
( Irder,  St.  Paul  of  the  Cross,  whose 
tireless  and  self-sacrificing  zeal  for 
souls  redeemed  by  the  Precious 
Blood  of  our  Savior,  may  well  serve 
as  an  exemplar  to  stimulate  zeal  in 
this  lofty  and  noble  cause. 

The  second  Burse  was  to  be  in 
honor  of  St.  Gabriel,  the  Passionist 
Student  Saint,  who  died  when  a 
mere  boy,  but  whose  life  was 
featured  by  an  all  absorbing  love 
and  sympathy  for  the  Sorrows  of 
Mary. 

These  Burses  would  insure  support 
and  education  for  two  missionaries 
whose  field  of  labor,  would  be  the 
Chinese  Missions.  It  is  not  possible 
to  propose  an  object  more  lofty,  or 
more  appealing  to  the  deep  Faith  of 
Catholic  people. 

When  this  proposal  was  made  it 
was  not  realized  that  the  FAMINE 
was  so  general,  or  so  destructive  in 
character.  THE  SIGN  has  there- 
fore sent  all  contributions  received 
thus  far  to  the  Fathers  in  China, 
asking  them  in  the  name  of  the 
donors  to  reach  out  a  helping  hand 
to  the  hungry  and  starving  and 
dying    people. 

Until  the  FAMINE  abates  in  fury, 
all  contributions  sent  to  THE  SIGN 
will  be  forwarded  promptly  to  the 
Fathers  in  China  for  this  most 
humane  and  merciful  purpose. 

Contributions  received  from  May 
10th.  to  June  10th.,  are  hereby 
gratefully    acknowledged: 

F.  N.,  W.  Hoboken,  N.  J $  5.00 

E.  S.,  W.  Hoboken,  N.  J 3.00 

A.  G.  H,  \V.  Hoboken,  N.  J...     2.00 

M.  M.  E.,  Newark,  N.  J 5.00 

N.  D.,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y 2.00 

M.  C,  Brooklyn,  N.  Y 1.00 

E.  L.,    Philadelphia,    Pa 5.00 

A.  H,  Philadelphia,  Pa 20.00 

Airs.  E.  K.,  Baltimore,  Md....  50.00 

Miss  S.,  Baltimore,  Md 5.00 

N.  O.  B,  Tuckahoe,  N.  Y 10.00 

S.  J.  P.,  Darners,  Mass 5.00 

F.  G.  H 2.00 

Anon 3.00 

Anon 100.00 


39 


The  cities  which  are  suffering  most 
are   Yuan   (how   and   Sinn   Cho   Fu. 

ilT^E     are     fully     conscious    dear 
Ml  readers  of  THE  SIGN  that 

^*^^    what      we      have     written      is 

gruesome  and  harrowing.  But  if 
you  were  here  and  saw  what  we 
see  you  would  know  we  have  given 
you  not  the  grim  reality,  but  only 
the  barest  outline.  As  we  said  in 
this  letter  the  corpses  when  found 
are  generally  nude;  for  robbers 
prowl  about  the  city  at  night  and 
when  they  come  upon  a  poor  wretch 
who  is  dying  of  starvation,  they 
stand  about  and  as  soon  as  he  is 
dead,  strip  the  body  and  sell  the 
rags  for  a  few  coppers  or  for  a 
little  rice.  Every  day  beggars  come 
to  the  Mission  and  ask  us  for  rice; 
they  return  for  a  bowl  of  rice  for 
father  or  mother,  or  for  son  or 
daughter,  and  if  they  came  to  you, 
would  you  have  the  heart  to  refuse? 
What  is  it  we  ask  from  the  readers 
of  THE  SIGN?  In  the  first  place 
we  ask  for  prayers  for  the  famine 
sufferers,  to  obtain  relief;  that  God 
will  deign  to  bless  this  year's  crops 
of  rice.  We  ask  prayers  for  their 
souls  that  the  sufferings  they  are 
now  enduring  may  render  them 
docile  to  the  message  of  Christ's 
appeal  from  the  Cross ;  "And  I, 
when  I  shall  be  lifted  up  from  the 
earth,  will  draw  all  things  to  My- 
self." Pray  that  the  Precious  Blood 
of  Jesus  will  make  fruitful  the  seed 
of  His  word  here  in  China. 


^w^E  ask  for  your  alms,  your 
rl  1  help,  your  money.  We  have 
^*S  spent  nearly  all  we  brought 
from  America,  but  the  need  is  press- 
ing, it  is  great.  Money  can  never 
be  expended  to  better  advantage 
for  God's  sake  and  Christ's  sake 
than  now  and  here.  We  ask  you  to 
give  generously  and  give  quickly, 
to  help  the  dependents  of  our  Mis- 
sion here  in  poor  pagan  China. 

In  our  next  letter  we  hope  to  ful- 
fill the  promises  wc  have  already 
made,  and  tell  about  our  Mission 
and  our  plans  of  campaign. 

The  Passionist  Fathers  of  China, 
per  Father  Celestine,  C.  P. 


Index  to  Worthwhile   Reading 


You  and  Yours.  .Martin  J.  Scott 
S.J.  P.  J.  Kenedy  &  Son.  New 
York.     Price  $1.50. 

Home  is  the  fulcrum  which  the 
forces  of  good  and  evil  use  to  send 
the  world  rolling  towards  heaven  or 
hell.  Fr.  Scott  brings  to  this  vital 
subject  exceptional  talent,  rare  com- 
mon sense,  and  an  intimate  know- 
ledge of  the  ups  and  downs,  of 
family  life.  He  talks  to  each  mem- 
ber of  the  family  and  tells  each  in 
turn,  his  or  her  duty  in  the  family 
circle  in  language  too  clear  to  be 
misunderstood. 

Father  is  the  "head  of  the  family." 
He  should  rule  the  home  with 
gentle  firmness,  lay  down  the  law 
only  when  necessary,  but  then  in  no 
uncertain  terms,  and  form  his  chil- 
dren more  by  example  than  by 
precept.  Character  is  caught  more 
than  it  is  taught. 

Mother  is  the  "heart  of  the 
family."  It  is  her  privilege  to  enter 
deeply  into  all  the  joys  and  sorrows 
of  her  husband  and  children.  It  is 
her  ability  to  maintain  an  habitual 
sweetness  of  disposition  in  all  the 
adverse  circumstances  of  family  life, 
that  contributes  more  than  anything 
else  to  the  making  of  "Home, 
Sweet  Home."  The  dignity  of 
Mother  is  sublime;  her  responsibility 
is  very  great ;  her  influence  for  good 
or  evil  is  simply  incalculable.  "The 
hand  that  rocks  the  cradle  rules  the 
world." 

Sons  and  daughters  are  reminded 
of  their  duty  of  honoring,  rever- 
encing and  obeying  their  parents ; 
of  doing  nothing  that  would  dis- 
please them;  and  of  consulting  them 
in  all  matters  of  importance,  especi- 
ally in  the  great  affair  of  life, — 
choosing  a  wife  or  husband.  Chil- 
dren who  break  their  parents'  hearts, 
will  eventually  have  their  own 
hearts   broken. 

The  final  chapters  on  the  higher 
life  will  instruct  generous  souls, 
anxious  to  walk  in  the  more  perfect 
way,  as  to  the  nature  of  a  religious, 
or  a  priestly  vocation  and  the  man- 
ner of  corresponding  to  it.  Also 
they  will  be  reminded  of  the  rich 
reward    that    awaits    such    a    life   of 


sacrifice,— a  reward  that  will  last 
through-out  eternity. 

On  the  whole,  the  book  is  a 
masterpiece.  The  style  is  limpidly 
clear;  there  is  no  friction;  one  reads 
entire  chapters  without  effort. 

We  say  of  this  book  what  we 
seldom  say  of  any  book,— it  is  all 
too    short ! 

The  Catholic  Citizen.  John  A. 
Lapp.  The  Macmillan  Co.  New 
York.     $1.00. 

This  is  an  excellent  book,  one  of 
the  best  of  its  kind  yet  published. 
The  author  adheres  strictly  to  the 
purpose  expressed  in  the  opening 
lines  of  his  introduction,  "to  set  forth 
the  essential  facts  of  American 
citizenship  and  the  civic  and  social 
problems  with  which  the  citizen  must 
deal. 

Starting  with  the  assertion  that 
the  "highest  purpose  of  government 
is  the  promotion  of  justice  and  fair 
play  for  all  the  people,"  Mr.  Lapp 
proceeds  to  show  how  our  great 
democracy  endeavors  to  measure  up 
to  this  high  ideal. 

The  author  justty  observes  that 
too  often,  dishonest  members  of 
political  machines,  are  placed 
in  authority  to  further  their  own, 
unlawful  interests.  "Candidates 
elected  by  corrupt  practices  will 
serve  the  interests  that  bought  their 
election  instead  of  the  interests  of 
the  people." 

We  think  that  the  author  places 
too  much  blame  on  the  ordinary 
citizen  for  this  regrettable  state  of 
affairs.  "If  politics  are  corrupt,  it  is 
because  the  citizens  are  not  honest, 

or,  they  do  not  do  their  duty 

they  refrain  from  voting,  or  fail  to 
vote  intelligently."  The  author 
seems  to  forget  that  precisely  here 
is  the  "Crux"  of  the  whole  political 
situation,  viz:  the  ordinary  citizen's 
inability  to  "vote  intelligently."  How 
can  he  do  so,  when  the  very  source 
of  his  information — the  daily  press 
is  controlled  by  political  machines, 
and  so  cleverly  manipulated  by  their 
agents  as  to  make  it  scarcely  possi- 
ble  even    for   the   man   of    scholarly 


attainments  to  obtain  exact  know- 
ledge of  the  moral  character  and  the 
political  ability  of  this  or  that 
candidate  who  is  'up'  for  office. 

"Capital  and  Labor,"  "Money," 
"Banks  and  Banking,"  and  "Insur- 
ance" are  some  of  the  interesting 
social  problems  which  are  handled 
very  capably. 

The  appendix  contains  the 
"Declaration  of  Independence"  and 
the  "Constitution  of  the  United 
States." 

Bunny's  House.  E.  M.  Walker. 
Benziger  Brothers.  New  York. 
$2.00. 

The  central  figure  in  this  story  is 
a  good  natured,  well  meaning 
London  lad,  Ernest  Grills,  who  is  a 
typical  product  of  a  godless  educa- 
tion and  a  godless  home.  The 
perpetual  fog  of  the  great  city  in 
which  he  is  born  and  bred  is  sym- 
bolical of  the  habitual  state  of  his 
soul.  He  knows  not  whence  he 
comes,  whither  he  is  going;  nor  any- 
thing definite  about  the  God  Who 
made  him. 

Ernest  seeks  peace  in  the 
quiet  of  country  life  at  Bunny's 
house.  Several  circumstances  con- 
duce to  his  remaining  there.  Airs. 
Parracomb,  young,  fascinating,  in- 
telligent, and  a  Catholic,  comes  into 
his  life.  At  her  suggestion  he  prays 
daily,  "Who  shall  be  my  guide?  .  .  . 
The  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost !"  Mrs.  Parracomb  makes  a 
startling  avowal ;  her  husband  still 
lives;  she  is  not  free.  Ernest's 
dream  is  shattered.  The  Light  in 
his  soul  dies  out.  He  simply  does 
not  care  about  the  Whence  nor  the 
Whither  of  his  existence.  He 
determines  to  break  away  from  the 
associations  which  have  wrought 
such  woe  in  his  life.  Far  off  Canada 
beckons  ;  thither  he  hastens,  heading 
straight  for  St.  Ann  de  Beaupre,  there 
"to  put  a  candle"  for  Mrs.  Parra- 
comb. Thus  the  books  ends — a 
gleam  of  light  above  the  fog. 

The  book  has  a  realistic  smack 
to  it,  and  leaves  the  definite  impres- 
sion how  difficult  it  is  for  the  god- 
lessly  educated  to  attain  unto  Light. 


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