Chapter 10

In Austria we find an example of devotion to the dead, in the saintly Empress Eleanor, who, after the death of her husband, the Emperor Leopold, in 1705, was wont to pray two hours every day for the eternal repose of his soul. Not less touching is an account given by a Protestant traveller of an humble pair, whom he encountered at Prague during his wanderings there. They were father and daughter, and attached, the one as bell-ringer, the other as laundress, to the Church on the Visschrad. He found them in their little dwelling. It was on the festival of St. Anne, when all Prague was making merry. The girl said to him: "Father and I were just sitting together, and this being St. Anne's Day, we were thinking of my mother, whose name was also Anne." The father then said, addressing his daughter: "Thou shalt go down to St. Jacob's to-morrow, and have a Mass read for thy mother, Anne." For the mother who had been long years slumbering in the little cemetery hard by. There is, something touching to me in this little incident, for it tells how the pious memory of the beloved dead dwelt in these simple hearts, dwells in the hearts of the people everywhere, as in that of the pious empress, whose inconsolable sorrow found vent in long hours of prayer for the departed.

In the will of Christopher Columbus there is special mention made of the church which he desired should be erected at Concepcion, one of his favorite places in the New World, so named by himself. In this church he arranged that three Masses should be celebrated daily--the first in honor of the Blessed Trinity; the second, in honor of the Immaculate Conception; and the third for the faithful departed. This will was made in May, 1506. The body of the great discoverer was laid in the earth, to the lasting shame of the Spaniards, with but little other remembrance than that which the Church gives to the meanest of her children. The Franciscans, his first friends, as now his last, accompanied his remains to the Cathedral Church of Valladolid, where a Requiem Mass was sung, and his body laid in the vault of the Observantines with but little pomp. Later on, however, the king, in remorse for past neglect, or from whatever cause, had the body taken up and transported with great pomp to Seville. There a Mass was sung, and a solemn funeral service took place at the cathedral, whence the corpse of the Admiral was conveyed beyond the Guadalquivir to St. Mary of the Grottoes (Santa Maria de las Grutas). But the remains of this most wonderful of men were snatched from the silence of the Carthusian cloister some ten years later, and taken thence to Castile, thence again to San Domingo, where they were laid in the sanctuary of the cathedral to the right of the main altar. Again they were disturbed and taken on board the brigantine Discovery to the Island of Cuba, where solemnly, once more, the Requiem for the Dead swelled out, filling with awe the immense assembly, comprising, as we are told, all the civil and military notables of the island.

In the annals of the Knight Hospitallers of St. John, it is recorded that after a great and providential victory won by them over the Moslem foe, and by the fruits of which Rhodes was saved from falling into the hands of the enemy, the Grand Master D'Aubusson proceeded to the Church of St. John to return thanks. And that he also caused the erection of three churches in honor of Our Blessed Lady, and the Patron Saints of the city. These three churches were endowed for prayers and Masses to be offered in perpetuity for the souls of those who had fallen in battle. This D'Aubusson was in all respects one of the most splendid knights that Christendom has produced. A model of Christian knighthood, he is unquestionably one of the greatest of the renowned Grand Masters of St. John. There is a touching incident told in these same annals of two knights, the Chevalier de Servieux, counted the most accomplished gentleman of his day, and La Roche Pichelle. Both of them were not only the flower of Christian knighthood, but model religious as well. They died of wounds received in a sea fight off Saragossa in 1630, and on their death-beds lay side by side in the same room, consoling and exhorting each other, it being arranged between them, that whoever survived the longest should offer all his pains for the relief of his companion's soul.

We have now reached a part of our work, upon which we shall have occasion to dwell at some length, and notwithstanding the fact that it has already formed the subject of two preceding articles. It is that which relates to England, and which is doubly interesting to Catholics, as being the early record of what is now the chief Protestant nation of Europe. To go back to those Anglo-Saxon days, which might be called in some measure the golden age of Catholic faith in England, we shall see what was the custom which prevailed at the moment of dissolution. In the regulations which follow there is not question of a monarch nor a public individual, nor of priest nor prelate, but simply of an ordinary Christian just dead. "The moment he expired the bell was tolled. Its solemn voice announced to the neighborhood that a Christian brother was departed, and called on those who heard it to recommend his soul to the mercy of his Creator. All were expected to join, privately, at least, in this charitable office; and in monasteries, even if it were in the dead of night, the inmates hastened from their beds to the church, and sang a solemn dirge. The only persons excluded from the benefit of these prayers were those who died avowedly in despair, or under the sentence of excommunication.

"... Till the hour of burial, which was often delayed for some days to allow time for the arrival of strangers from a distance, small parties of monks or clergymen attended in rotation, either watching in silent prayer by the corpse or chanting with subdued voice the funeral service.... When the necessary preparations were completed, the body of the deceased was placed on a bier or in a hearse. On it lay the book of the Gospels, the code of his belief, and the cross, the emblem of his hope. A pall of linen or silk was thrown over it till it reached the place of interment. The friends were invited, strangers often deemed it a duty to attend. The clergy walked in procession before, or divided into two bodies, one on each side, singing a portion of the psalter and generally bearing lights in their hands. As soon as they entered the church the service for the dead was performed; a Mass of requiem followed; the body was deposited in the grave, the sawlshot paid, and a liberal donation distributed to the poor." [1]

[Footnote 1: "Lingard's Antiquities of the Anglo Saxon Church," Vol. II, pp. 46-47.]

In the northern portico of the Cathedral of Canterbury was erected an altar in honor of St. Gregory, where a Mass was offered every Saturday for the souls of departed archbishops. We read that Oidilwald, King of the Deiri, and son of King Oswald, founded a monastery that it might be the place of his sepulture, because "he was confident of deriving great benefit from the prayers of those who should serve the Lord in that house." Dunwald the Thane, on his departure for Rome to carry thither the alms of his dead master, King Ethelwald, A.D. 762, bequeathed a dwelling in the market in Queengate to the Church of SS. Peter and Paul for the benefit of the king's soul and his own soul.

As far back as the days of the good King Arthur, whose existence has been so enshrouded in fable that many have come to believe him a myth, we read that Queen Guenever II., of unhappy memory, having spent her last years in repentance, was buried in Ambreabury, Wiltshire. The place of her interment was a monastery erected by Aurelius Ambrose, the uncle of King Arthur, "for the maintenance of three hundred monks to pray for the souls of the British noblemen slain by Hengist." Upon her tomb was inscribed, "in rude letters of massy gold," to quote the ancient chronicler, the initials R. G. and the date 600 A.D.

In the Saxon annals Enfleda, the wife of Oswy, King of Northumbria, plays a conspicuous part. Soon after her marriage, Oswin, her husband's brother, consequently her cousin and brother-in-law, was slain. The queen caused a monastery to be erected on the spot where he fell as a reparation for her husband's fratricide, and as a propitiation for the soul of the departed. This circumstance is alluded to by more than one English poet, as also the monastery which Enfleda, for the same purpose, caused to be erected at Tynemouth. Thus Harding:

"Queen Enfled, that was King Oswy's wife, King Edwin, his daughter, full of goodnesse, For Oswyn's soule a minster, in her life, Made at Tynemouth, and for Oswy causeless That hym so bee slaine and killed helpeless; For she was kin to Oswy and Oswin, As Bede in chronicle dooeth determyn."

The most eminent Catholic poet of our own day, Sir Aubrey de Vere, in his Saxon legends, likewise refers to it. He describes first what

"Gentlest form kneels on the rain-washed ground, From Giling's Keep a stone's throw. Whose those hands Now pressed in anguish on a bursting heart. ... What purest mouth

"Presses a new-made grave, and through the blades Of grass wind shaken, breathes her piteous prayer? ... Oswin's grave it is, And she that o'er it kneels is Eanfleda, Kinswoman of the noble dead, and wife To Oswin's murderer--Oswy."

Again, describing the repentance of Oswy:

"One Winter night From distant chase belated he returned, And passed by Oswin's grave. The snow, new fallen, Whitened the precinct. In the blast she knelt, She heard him not draw nigh. She only beat Her breast, and, praying, wept. Our sin! our sin!

"So came to him those words. They dragged him down: He knelt beside his wife, and beat his breast, And said, 'My sin! my sin!' Till earliest morn Glimmered through sleet that twain wept on, prayed on:-- Was it the rising sun that lit at last The fair face upward lifted? ....... Aloud she cried, 'Our prayer is heard: our penitence finds grace.' Then added: 'Let it deepen till we die. A monastery build we on this grave: So from this grave, while fleet the years, that prayer Shall rise both day and night, till Christ returns To judge the world,--a prayer for him who died; A prayer for one who sinned, but sins no more!'"

In the grant preserved in the Bodleian Collection, wherein Editha the Good, the widow of Edward the Confessor, confers certain lands upon the Church of St. Mary at Sarum, occurs the following:

"I, Editha, relict of King Edward, give to the support of the Canons of St. Mary's Church, in Sarum, the lands of Secorstan, in Wiltshire, and those of Forinanburn, to the Monastery of Wherwell, for the support of the nuns serving God there, with the rights thereto belonging, for the soul of King Edward." [1]

[Footnote 1: "Phillips' Account of Old Sarum."]

This queen was buried in Westminster Abbey, her remains being removed from the north to the south side of St. Edward's shrine, on the rebuilding of that edifice, and it is recorded that Henry III. ordered a lamp to be kept burning perpetually at the tomb of Editha the Good.

It is related of the celebrated Lady Godiva of Coventry, the wife of the wealthy and powerful Leofric, that on her death-bed she "bequeathed a precious circlet of gems, which she wore round her neck, valued at one hundred marks of silver (about two thousand pounds sterling) to the Image of the Virgin in Coventry Abbey, praying that all who came thither would say as many prayers as there were gems in it." [1]

[Footnote 1: Saxon Chronicle, Strickland's "Queens of England Before the Conquest, etc."]

The following is an ancient verse, occurring in an old French treatise, on the manner of behaving at table, wherein one is warned never to arise from a meal without praying for the dead. This treatise was translated by William Caxton.

"Priez Dieu pour les trepassés, Et te souveigne en pitié Qui de ce monde sont passez, Ainsi que tu es obligez, Priez Dieu pour les trepassés!"

[We subjoin a rough translation of the verse.

To God, for the departed, pray And of those in pity think Who have passed from this world away, As, indeed, thou art bound to do, To God, for the departed pray.]

Speaking of his early education, Caxton says:

"Whereof I humbly and heartily thank God, and am bounden to pray for my father and mother's souls, who in my youth set me to school." [1]

[Footnote 1: "Christian Schools and Scholars."]

In 1067, William the Conqueror founded what was known as Battle Abbey, which he gave to the Benedictine Monks, that they might pray for the souls of those who fell in the Battle of Hastings. Speaking of William the. Conqueror, it is not out of place to quote here these lines from the pen of Mrs. Hemans:

"Lowly upon his bier The royal Conqueror lay, Baron and chief stood near, Silent in war's array. Down the long minster's aisle Crowds mutely gazing stream'd, Altar and tomb the while Through mists of incense gleamed.

"They lowered him with the sound Of requiems to repose."

These stanzas on the Burial of William the Conqueror lead us naturally to others from the pen of the same gifted authoress on "Coeur de Lion at the Bier of his Father."

"Torches were blazing clear, Hymns pealing deep and slow, Where a king lay stately on his bier, In the Church of Fontevraud.

* * * * *

"The marble floor was swept By many a long dark stole As the kneeling priests, round him that slept, Sang mass for the parted soul. And solemn were the strains they pour'd Through the stillness of the night, With the cross above, and the crown and sword, And the silent king in sight."

We forgive the ignorance of the gentle poetess with regard to the Mass, for the beauty and solemnity of the verse, which is quite in keeping with the nature of the subject.

We read, again, of tapers being lit at the tomb of Henry V., the noble and chivalrous Henry of Monmouth, for one hundred years after his death. The Reformation extinguished that gentle flame with many another holy fire, both in England and throughout Christendom.

We shall now pass on to another period--a far different and most troublous one of English history, that of the Reformation.

In the Church of St. Lawrence at Iswich is an entry of an offering made to "pray for the souls of Robert Wolsey and his wife Joan, the father and mother of the Dean of Lincoln," thereafter to be Cardinal and Chancellor of the Kingdom. An argument urged to show the Protestantism of Collet, one of the ante-Reformation worthies, is that he "did not make a Popish will, having left no monies for Masses for his soul; which shows that he did not believe in Purgatory." The dying prayer of Sir Thomas More concludes with these words: "Give me a longing to be with Thee; not for avoiding the calamities of this wicked world, nor so much the pains of Purgatory or of hell; nor so much for the attaining of the choice of heaven, in respect of mine own commodity, as even for a very love of Thee." The unfortunate Anne Boleyn, who during her imprisonment had repented and received the last sacraments from the hands of Father Thirlwall, begs on the scaffold that the people may pray for her. In her address to her ladies before leaving the Tower, she concludes it by begging them to forget her not after death. "In your prayers to the Lord Jesus forget not to pray for my soul." In the account of the death of another of King Henry's wives, the Lady Jane Seymour, who died, as Miss Strickland says, after having all the rites of the Catholic Church administered to her, we read that Sir Richard Gresham thus writes to Lord Cromwell:

"I have caused twelve hundred Masses to be offered up for the soul of our most gracious Queen.... I think it right that there should also be a solemn dirge and high Mass, and that the mayor and aldermen should pray and offer up divers prayers for Her Grace's soul."

Anne of Cleves some two years before her death likewise embraced the Catholic faith. At her funeral Mass was sung by Bonner, Bishop of London, and many monks and seculars attended her obsequies. The infamous Thomas Cromwell, converted, as it seems evident from contemporary witnesses, on his death-bed, left what might be called truly a "Popish will." After bequeathing money or effects to various relatives and friends, he speaks of charity "works for the health of my soul." "I will," he says, "that my executors shall sell said farm (Carberry), and the money thereof to be employed in deeds of charity, to prayer for my soul and all Christian souls." Item. "I will mine executors shall conduct and hire a priest, being an honest person of continent and good living, to sing (pray) for my soul for the space of seven years next after my death." Item. "I give and bequeath to every one of the five orders of Friars within the Citie of London, to pray for my soul, twenty shillings. ..." He further bequeaths £20 to be distributed amongst "poor householders, to pray for his soul."

In this he closely resembled his royal master, Henry VIII., who ordained that Masses should be said "for his soul's health while the world shall endure." And after his death it was agreed that the obsequies should be conducted according to the observance of the Catholic Church. Church-bells tolled and Masses were celebrated daily throughout London. In the Privy Chamber, where the corpse was laid, "lights and Divine service were said about him, with Masses, obsequies, etc." After the body was removed to the chapel it was kept there twelve days, with "Masses and dirges sung and said everyday." Norroy, king at arms, stood each day at the choir door, saying: "Of your charity pray for the soul of the high and mighty prince, our late sovereign lord and king, Henry VIII." When the body was lowered into the grave we read of a _De Profundis_ being read over it. God grant it was not all a solemn mockery, this praying for the soul of him who was styled "the first Protestant King of England," and who by his crimes separated England from the unity of Christendom! May these "Popish practices," which were amongst those he in his ordinances condemned, have availed him in that life beyond the grave, whither he went to give an account of his stewardship!

The Catholic Queen, Mary, after her accession to the throne, caused a requiem Mass to be sung in Tower Chapel for her brother, Edward the Sixth. Elizabeth, in her turn, had Mary buried with funeral hymn and Mass, and caused a solemn dirge and Mass of Requiem to be chanted for the soul of the Emperor Charles V.

With this period of spiritual anarchy and desolation we shall take our leave of England, passing on to pause for an instant to observe the peculiar _cultus_ of the dead in Corsica. It is represented by some writers as being similar to that which prevailed amongst the Romans. But as a traveller remarks, "it is a curious relic of paganism, combined with Christian usages." Thus the dirge sung by women, their wild lamenting, their impassioned apostrophizing of the dead, their rhetorical declamation of his virtues, finds its analogy among many of the customs of pagan nations, while the prayer for the dead, "the relatives standing about the bed of death reciting the Rosary," the Confraternity of the Brothers of the Dead coming to convey the corpse to the church, where Mass is sung and the final absolution given, is eminently Christian and Catholic. In the Norwegian annals we read how Olaf the Saint, on the occasion of one of his battles, gave many marks of silver for the souls of his enemies who should fall in battle.

A traveller in Mexico relates the following: "I remember to have seen," he says, "on the high altar of the dismantled church of Yanhuitlan a skull as polished as ivory, which bore on the forehead the following inscription in Spanish:

'Io soy Jesus Pedro Sandoval; un Ave Maria y un Padre Nuestro, por Dios, hermanos!' [1]

[Footnote 1: Ferdinand Gregorovius, "Wanderings in Corsica," translated by Alexander Muir.]

'I am Jesus Pedro Sandoval; a Hail Mary and an Our Father for the love of God, my brother.'

"I cannot conceive," he continues, "anything more heart-rending than the great silent orbs of this dead man staring me fixedly in the face, whilst his head, bared by contact with the grave, sadly implored my prayers." [1]

[Footnote 1: "Deux Ans au Mexique," Faucher de St. Maurice.]

It would be impossible to conclude our _olla podrida_, if I may venture on the expression, of historical lore, relating to the dead, without referring, however briefly, to the two great deaths, and consequently the magnificent obsequies which have marked this very year of 1885, in which we write. Those of Archbishop Bourget, of Montreal, and of His Eminence, Cardinal McCloskey, of New York. They were both expressions of national sorrow, and the homage paid by sorrowing multitudes to true greatness. On the 10th of June, 1885, the venerable Archbishop Bourget died at Sault-au-Recollet, and was brought on the following morning to the Church of Notre Dame, Montreal. The days that ensued were all days of Requiem. Psalms were sung, and the office of the dead chanted by priests of all the religious orders in succession, by the various choirs of the city, by the secular clergy, and by lay societies. Archbishops and bishops sang high Mass with all the pomp of our holy ritual, and the prayers of the poor for him who had been their benefactor, mingled with those of the highest in the land, and followed the beloved remains from the bed of death whence they were taken down into the funeral vault. On the 10th of October, 1885, His Eminence the Cardinal Archbishop of New York passed peacefully away, amidst the grief of the whole community, both Protestant and Catholic. Again, there was a very ovation of prayer. The obsequies were marked by a splendor such as, according to a contemporary journal, had never before attended any ecclesiastical demonstration on this side of the water. The clergy, secular and religious, formed one vast assemblage, while layman vied with layman in showing honor to the dead, and in praying for the soul's repose. "All that man could do," says a prominent Catholic journal, "to bring honor to his bier was done, and in honor and remembrance his memory remains. All that Mother Church could offer as suffrage for his soul has been offered."

That is wherein the real beauty of it all consists. Honor to the great dead may, it is true, be the splendid expression of national sentiment. But in the eyes of faith it is meaningless. Other great men, deservedly honored by the nations, have passed away during this same year, but where was the prayer, accompanying them to the judgment-seat, assisting them in that other life, repairing their faults, purging away sins or imperfections? The grandeur that attended Mgr. Bourget's burial and Cardinal McCloskey's obsequies consisted chiefly in that vast symphony of prayer, which arose so harmoniously, and during so many days, for their soul's welfare.

Devotion to the dead, as we have seen, exists everywhere, is everywhere dear to the hearts of the people, from those first early worshippers, who, in the dawn of Christianity, in the dimness of the Catacombs prayed for the souls of their brethren in Christ, begging that they might "live in God," that God might refresh them, down through the ages to our own day, increasing as it goes in fervor and intensity. We meet with its records, written boldly, so to say, on the brow of nations, or in out-of-the-way corners, down among the people, in the littleness and obscurity of humble domestic annals. In the earliest liturgies, in the most ancient sacramentaries, there is the prayer for "refreshment, light, and peace," as it is now found in the missals used at the daily sacrifice, on the lips of the priest, in the prayers of the humblest and most unlettered petitioner. It is the "low murmur of the vale," changing, indeed, at times into the thunder on the mountain tops, amazing the unbelieving world which stands aloof and stares, as in the instances but lately quoted, or existing forgotten, and overlooked by them, but no less deep and solemn. It is a _Requiem Æternam_ pervading all time, and ceasing only with time itself, when the Eternity of rest for the Church Militant has begun.

PRAYER FOR THE DEAD IN THE ANGLO-SAXON CHURCH.

DR. LINGARD.

The Anglo-Saxons had inherited from their teachers the practice of prayer for the dead--a practice common to every Christian Church which dates its origin from any period before the Reformation. It was not that they pretended to benefit by their prayers the blessed in heaven, or the reprobate in hell; but they had never heard of the doctrine which teaches that "every soul of man, passing out of the body, goeth immediately to one or other of those places" (Book of Homilies. Hom. VII. On Prayer). And therefore assuming that God will render to all according to their works, they believed that the souls of men dying in a state of less perfect virtue, though they might not be immediately admitted to the supreme felicity of the saints, would not, at least, be visited with the everlasting punishment of the wicked. [1] It was for such as these that they prayed, that if they were in a state of imperfect happiness, that happiness might be augmented; if in a state of temporary punishment, the severity of that punishment might be mitigated; and this they hoped to obtain from the mercy of God, in consideration of their prayers, fasts, and alms, and especially of the "oblation of the most Holy Victim in the Sacrifice of the Mass."

[Footnote 1: "Some souls proceed to rest after their departure; some go to punishment for that which they have done, and are often released by alms-deeds, but chiefly through the Mass, if it be offered for them; others are condemned to hell with the devil." (Serm. ad. Pop. in Oct. Pent.) "There be many places of punishment, in which souls suffer in proportion to their guilt before the general judgment, so that some of them are fully cleansed, and have nothing to suffer in that fire of the last day." (Hom. apud. Whelock, p. 386.)]

This was a favorite form of devotion with our ancestors. It came to them recommended by the practice of all antiquity; it was considered an act of the purest charity on behalf of those who could no longer pray for themselves; it enlisted in its favor the feelings of the survivor, who was thus enabled to intercede with God for his nearest and dearest friends, and it opened at the same time to the mourner a source of real consolation in the hour of bereavement and distress. It is true, indeed, that the petitioners knew not the state of the departed soul; he might be incapable of receiving any benefit from their prayers, but they reasoned, with St. Augustine, that, even so, the piety of their intentions would prove acceptable to God. When Alcuin heard that Edilthryde, a noble Saxon lady, lamented most bitterly the death of her son, he wrote to her from his retreat at Tours, in the following terms:--"Mourn not for him whom you cannot recall. If he be of God, instead of grieving that you have lost him, rejoice that he is gone to rest before you. Where there are two friends, I hold the death of the first preferable to that of the second, because the first leaves behind him one whose brotherly love will intercede for him daily, and whose tears will wash away the frailties of his life in this world. Be assured that your pious solicitude for the soul of your son will not be thrown away. It will benefit both you and him--you, because you exercise acts of hope and charity; him, because such acts will tend either to mitigate his sufferings, or to add to his happiness."

[Footnote 1: Ep. Cli Tom. I, p. 212.]

But they did not only pray for others, they were careful to secure for themselves, after their departure, the prayers of their friends. This they frequently solicited as a favor or recompense, and for this they entered into mutual compacts by which the survivor was bound to perform certain works of piety or charity for the soul of the deceased. Thus Beda begs of the monks of Lindisfarne that, at his death, they will offer prayers and Masses for him as one of their own body; thus Alcuin calls upon his former scholars at York to remember him in their prayers when it shall please God to withdraw him from this world; and thus in the multifarious correspondence of St. Boniface, the apostle of Germany, and of Lullus, his successor in the See of Mentz, both of them Anglo-Saxons, with their countrymen, prelates, abbots, thanes, and princes, we meet with letters the only object of which is to renew their previous engagements, and to transmit the names of their defunct associates. It is "our earnest wish," say the King of Kent and the Bishop of Rochester in their common letter to Lullus, "to recommend ourselves and our dearest relatives to your piety, that by your prayers we may be protected till we come to that life which knows no end. For what have we to do on earth but faithfully to exercise charity towards each other? Let us then agree, that when any among us enter the path which leads to another life (may it be a life of happiness), the survivors shall, by their alms and sacrifices, endeavor to assist him in his journey. We have sent you the names of our deceased relations, Irmige, Vorththry, and Dulicha, virgins dedicated to God, and beg that you will remember them in your prayers and oblations. On a similar occasion we will prove our gratitude by imitating your charity."

Such covenants were not confined to the clergy, or to persons in the higher ranks of life. England, at this period, was covered with "gilds," or associations of townsmen and neighbors, not directly for religious purposes, but having a variety of secular objects in view,-- such as the promotion of trade and commerce, the preservation of property and the prosecution of thieves, the legal defence of the members against oppression, and the recovery of bots, or penalties, to which they were entitled; but whatever might be their chief object, all imposed one common obligation, that of accompanying the bodies of f the deceased members to the grave, of paying the soul-shot for them at their interment, and of distributing alms for the repose of their souls. As a specimen of such engagements, I may here translate a portion of the laws established in the gild at Abbotsbury. "If," says the legislator, "any one belonging to this association chance to die, each member shall pay one penny for the good of the soul, before the body be laid in the grave. If he neglect, he shall be fined in a triple sum. If any of us fall sick within sixty miles, we engage to find fifteen men, who may bring him home; but if he die first, we will send thirty to convey him to the place in which he desired to be buried. If he die in the neighborhood, the steward shall inquire where he is to be interred, and shall summon as many members as he can to assemble, attend the corpse in an honorable manner, carry it to the minster, and pray devoutly for the soul. Let us act in this manner, and we shall truly perform the duty of our confraternity. This will be honorable to us both before God and man. For we know not who among us may die first; but we believe that, with the assistance of God, this agreement will profit us all if it be rightly observed."

But the clerical and monastic bodies inhabiting the more celebrated monasteries offered guildships of a superior description. Among them the service for the dead was performed with greater solemnity; the rules of the institute insured the faithful performance of the duty; and additional value was ascribed to their prayers on account of the sanctity of the place and the virtue of its inmates. Hence it became an object with many to obtain admission among the brotherhood in quality of honorary associates; an admission which gave them the right to the same spiritual benefits after death to which the professed members were entitled. Such associates were of two classes. To some the favor was conceded on account of their reputation for piety or learning; to others it was due on account of their benefactions. Instances of both abound in the Anglo-Saxon records. Beda, though a monk at Jarrow, procured his name to be entered for this purpose on the bead-roll of the monks at Lindisfarne; and Alcuin, though a canon at Tours, in France, had obtained a similar favor from the monks at Jarrow. It belonged, of right, to the founders of churches, to those who had made to them valuable benefactions, [1] or had rendered to them important services, or had bequeathed to them a yearly rent charge [2] for that purpose.

[Footnote 1: When Osulf, ealdorman, by the grace of God, gave the land at Stanhamstede to Christ Church, he most humbly prayed that he and his wife, Beornthrythe, might be admitted "into the fellowship of God's servants there, and of their lords who had been, and of those who had given lands to the Church."--Cod. Dipl. I. 292. The following is an instance of a rent charge given by Ealburge and Eadwald to Christ Church for themselves, and for Ealred and Ealwyne forty ambres of malt, two hundred loaves, one wey, &c, &c.; "and I, Ealburge," she adds, "command my son Ealwyne, in the name of God, and of all the saints, that he perform this duty in his day, and then command his heirs to perform it as long as Christendom shall endure."]

[Footnote 2: I Monast. Ang. i. 278. A similar regulation is found among the laws of the gild in London. "And ye have ordained respecting every man who has given his 'wed' in our gildships, if he should die, that each gild brother shall give a 'genuine loaf' for his soul, and sing a ditty, or get it sung, within thirty days."--Thorpe's Laws of London Gilds.]

Of all these individuals an exact catalogue was kept; the days of their decease [1] were carefully noted, and on their anniversaries a solemn service of Masses and psalmody was yearly performed. [2] It may be easily conceived that to men of timorous and penitent minds this custom would afford much consolation. However great might be their deficiencies, yet they hoped that their good works would survive them; they had provided for the service of the Almighty a race of men, whose virtues they might in one respect call their own, and who were bound, by the strongest ties, to be their daily advocate at the throne of divine mercy. [3] Such were the sentiments of Alwyn, the caldorman of East Anglia, and one of the founders of Ramsey. Warned by frequent infirmities of his approaching death, he repaired, attended by his sons Edwin and Ethelward, to the abbey. The monks were speedily assembled. "My beloved," said he, "you will soon lose your friend and protector. My strength is gone: I am stolen from myself. But I am not afraid to die. When life grows tedious death is welcome. To-day I shall confess before you the many errors of my life. Think not that I wish to solicit a prolongation of my existence. My request is that you protect my departure by your prayers, and place your merits in the balance against my defects. When my soul shall have quitted my body, honor your father's corpse with a decent funeral, grant him a constant share in your prayers, and recommend his memory to the charity and gratitude of your successors." At the conclusion of his address the aged thane threw himself on the pavement before the altar, and, with a voice interrupted by frequent sighs, publicly confessed the sins of his past years, and earnestly implored the mercies of his Redeemer.... He exhorted the brethren to a punctual observance of their rule, and forbade his sons, under their father's malediction, to molest them in possession of the lands which he had bestowed on the abbey.... Within a few weeks he died, his body was interred with proper solemnity in the Church; and his memory was long cherished with gratitude by the monks of Ramsey. [4]

[Footnote 1: According to Wanly there is in the Cotton Library (Dom. A. 7) of the reign of Athelstan, in which the names of the chief benefactors of the Church of Lindisfarne are written in letters of gold and silver, which catalogue was afterwards continued, but not in the same manner (Wanly, 249). This is probably the same book which was published in 1841 by the Surtees Society, under the name of _Liber Vitæ Ecclesiæ Dunelmensis_. It contains the names of all the benefactors of St. Cuthbert's Church from its foundation, and lay constantly on the altar for upwards of six centuries.]

[Footnote 2: According to Wanly there is in the Cotton Library (Dom. A. 7) of the reign of Athelstan, in which the names of the chief benefactors of the Church of Lindisfarne are written in letters of gold and silver, which catalogue was afterwards continued, but not in the same manner (Wanly, 249). This is probably the same book which was published in 1841 by the Surtees Society, under the name of _Liber Vitæ Ecclesiæ Dunelmensis_. It contains the names of all the benefactors of St. Cuthbert's Church from its foundation, and lay constantly on the altar for upwards of six centuries.]

[Footnote 3: Thus when Leofric established canons in the Church of Exeter, he made them several valuable presents, on condition that, in their prayers and Masses, they should always remember his soul, "that it might be the more pleasing to God." Monas. Ang. tom i. p. 222.]

[Footnote 4: Hist. Rames, p. 427.]

There were three kinds of good works usually performed for the benefit of the dead: One consisted in the distribution of charity. To the money, which the deceased, if he were in opulent or in easy circumstances, bequeathed for that purpose, an addition was often made by the contributions of his relatives and friends. Large sums were often distributed in this manner. King Alfred the Great says in his will: "Let there be given for me, and for my father, and for the friends that he prayed for, and that I pray for, two hundred pounds; fifty among the Mass-priests throughout my kingdom; fifty among the servants of God that are in need, fifty among lay paupers, and fifty to the church in which my body shall rest." [1] Archbishop Wulfred in his will, (an. 831) made provision for the permanent support and clothing of twenty-seven paupers, out of the income from certain manors which, at his own cost and labor, he had recovered for the Church of Canterbury. Frequently the testator bequeathed a yearly dole of money and provisions to the poor on the anniversary of his death. Thus the clergy of Christ-church gave away one hundred and twenty suffles, or cakes of fine flour, on the anniversaries of each of their lords, by which word we are probably to understand archbishops; but Wulfred was not content with his accustomed charity; he augmented it tenfold on his own anniversary, having bequeathed a loaf, a certain quantity of cheese, and a silver penny to be delivered to twelve hundred poor persons on that day. Of such dole some vestiges still remain in certain parts of the kingdom.

[Footnote 1: Cod Diplom (double S?) i. 115.]

Another species of charity, at the death of the upper ranks, was the grant of freedom to a certain number of slaves, whose poverty, to render the gift more valuable, was relieved with a handsome present. In the Council of Calcuith, it was unanimously agreed that each prelate at his death should bequeath the tenth part of his personal property to the poor, and set at liberty all bondmen of English descent, whom the Church had acquired during his administration; and that each bishop and abbot who survived him, should manumit three of his slaves, and give three shillings to each, for the benefit of the soul of the deceased prelate.

The devotions in behalf of the dead consisted in the frequent repetition of the Lord's Prayer, technically called a belt of Paternosters, which was in use with private individuals, ignorant of the Latin tongue; 2d, in the chanting of a certain number of psalms, generally fifty, terminating with the collect for the dead, during which collect all knelt down, and then repeated the anthem in Latin or English: "According to Thy great mercy give rest to his soul, O Lord, and of Thine infinite bounty grant to him eternal light in the company of the saints;" [1] 3d, in the sacrifice of the Mass, which was offered as soon as might be after death, again on the third day, and afterwards as often as was required by the solicitude of the relatives or friends of the deceased. No sooner had St. Wilfred expired than Talbert, to whom he had intrusted the government of his monastery at Ripon, ordered a Mass to be celebrated, and alms to be distributed daily for his soul. On his anniversary the abbots of all the monasteries founded by Wilfred were summoned to attend; they spent the preceding night in watching and prayer, on the following morning a solemn Mass was performed, and then the tenth part of the cattle belonging to the monastery was distributed among the neighboring poor.

[Footnote 1: On the death of St. Guthlade, his sister Pega recommended his soul to God, and sang psalms for that purpose during three days.]

In like manner we find the ealdorman Osulf, "for the redemption and health of his own soul, and of his wife, Beornthrythe," giving certain lands to the Church of Liming, in Kent, under the express condition that "every twelve months afterwards, the day of their departure out of this life should be kept with fasting and prayer to God, in psalmody and the celebration of Masses."

It would appear that some doubt existed with respect to the exact meaning of this condition; and a few years later the archbishop, to set the question at rest, pronounced the following decree: "Wherefore I order that the godly deeds following be performed for their souls at the tide of their anniversary; that every Mass priest celebrate two Masses for the soul of Osulf, and two for Beornthrythe's soul; that every deacon read two passions (the narratives of our Lord's sufferings in the gospels) for his soul, and two for hers; and each of God's servants (the inferior members of the brotherhood) two fifties" (fifty psalms) "for his soul, two for hers; that as you in the world are blessed with worldly goods through them, so they may be blessed with godly goods through you."

It should, however, be observed, that such devotions were not confined to the anniversaries of the dead. In many, perhaps in all, of these religious establishments, the whole community on certain days walked, at the conclusion of the matin service, in procession to the cemetery, and there chanted the dirge over the graves of their deceased brethren and benefactors.

Respecting these practices some most extraordinary opinions have occasionally been hazarded. We have been told that the custom of praying for the dead was no part of the religious system originally taught to the Anglo-Saxons, that it was not generally received for two centuries after their conversion, and that it probably took its rise "from a mistaken charity, continuing to do for the departed what it was only lawful to do for the living." To this supposition it may be sufficient to reply, that it is supported by no reference to ancient authority, but contradicted in every page of Anglo-Saxon history. Others have admitted the universal prevalence of the practice, but have discovered that it originated in the interested views of the clergy, who employed it as a constant source of emolument, and laughed among themselves at the easy faith of their disciples. But this opinion is subject to equal difficulties with the former. It rests on no ancient testimony: it is refuted by the conduct of the ancient clergy. No instance is to be found of any one of these conspirators as they are represented, who in an unguarded moment, or of any false brother who, in the peevishness of discontent, revealed the secret to the ears of their dupes. On the contrary, we see them in their private correspondence holding to each other the same language which they held to their disciples; requesting from each other those prayers which we are told that they mutually despised, and making pecuniary sacrifices during life to purchase what, if their accusers be correct, they deemed an illusory assistence after death.

A SINGULAR FRENCH CUSTOM.

Vernon is perhaps the only town in France wherein the ancient custom of which we are about to speak still exists. When a death occurs, an individual, robed in a mortuary tunic, adorned with cross-bones and tear-drops, goes through the streets with a small bell in either hand, the sound of which is sharp and penetrating; at every place where the streets cross each other, he rings his bells three times, crying out in a doleful voice: "Such-a-one, belonging to the Confraternity of St. Roch, or the Confraternity of St. Sebastian, &c., &c., is recommended to your prayers. He is dead. The funeral will take place at such-an- hour." Then he rings again three times. The first Sunday of each month arrives. Then, at the dawn of day the same individual goes again through the town, ringing continuously, knocking thrice at the door of each member of the confraternity, and stopping at the corners of the streets, he sings: "Good people," or "good souls, who sleep, awake! awake! pray for the dead! &c."--_Voix de la Verité_, July 22, 1846.

DEVOTION TO THE HOLY SOULS AMONGST THE EARLY ENGLISH.

ANNA T. SADLIER.

An English writer, the gifted author of the Knights of St. John, makes the following assertion as regards the people of her own nationality: "Our Catholic ancestors," she says, "are said to have been distinguished above all other nations for their devotion towards the dead; and it harmonizes with one feature in our national character, namely, that gravity and attraction to things of solemn and pathetic interest which, uncontrolled by the influence of faith, degenerates even into melancholy." In view of this assertion, it will be interesting to spend a few moments in gathering up the links of this most ancient and most touching devotion, amongst a people who have collectively, as it were, fallen away from grace. It is therefore our purpose to look backwards into that solemn and beautiful past of which heretical England can boast, and behold her, as Carlyle beheld her in his "Past and Present," offering to the world the sublime spectacle of a people devout and faithful, undisturbed by doubt, tranquilized by the harmonious influence of religion, and unharassed by the spirit of so called philosophic inquiry, which, misdirected, is the true bane of English society at the present day.

This retrospection, as we shall have occasion later on to recur to the subject of devotion to the dead in England, must necessarily be both brief and cursory. But even the merest outlines are of interest, for they prove that prayer for the departed was no less the favorite devotion of the learned than of the simple, and that it had its home in those ancient seats of learning, Oxford and Cambridge and their dependencies, from the very hour of their foundation. Of the Founder of Oxford, it is said, that prayer for the dead was one of his devotions of predilection. It is not necessary here for us to follow him, the great and good William of Wykeham, Bishop of Winchester, and subsequently Lord Chancellor of England, in the gradual unfoldings of that project of founding a University, so dear to him from almost the moment of his elevation to the episcopate. Suffice that in the March of 1379, he laid the corner-stone of "St. Marie's College of Winchester, Oxenford." It is with his great charity towards the Holy Souls that we are at present concerned, and of this we have ample proof in the testimonies of his biographers. Here is one of them, in the paragraph which follows:

"There was another devotion which was most dearly cherished by Wykeham, and which is an equal indication of the singular _spirituality_ of his mind,--we mean, that for the suffering souls in Purgatory. It may be safely affirmed, that this devotion, so unselfish and unearthly in its tendencies, carrying us beyond the grave, and making us familiar with the secrets of the unseen world, could never find a place in the heart of one who was engrossed by secular cares, or the love of money. Its existence in any marked and special degree argues in the soul of its possessor a profound sense of sin, a deep compassion for the sufferings of others, and a habit of dwelling on the thoughts of death, judgment, and eternity. Moreover, it is utterly opposed to anything of that mercenary or commercial spirit which exists among men of the world, who like to see some large practical result even in matters of devotion. We pray, and are sensible of no return; we spend our money in a Requiem Mass, and there is nothing but trust in God's word, and God's fidelity, to assure us that the money is not thrown away. Every _De Profundis_ that we say is as much an act of faith as it is an act of charity; and it has its reward. We do not speak merely of the benefit reaped by the souls of the faithful departed; but who can measure the effect of this devotion on a man's own soul, bringing him (as it does) into communion with the world of spirits, and realizing to him the worth of Christian suffering, and the awful purity of God?"...

Wykeham's heart was full of compassion for suffering, and the dead shared his charity with the living. Never did he offer the Holy Sacrifice for the departed without abundant tears. His reverence for the Holy Mysteries, and the singular devotion with which he celebrated, are often referred to by those who have written his life; one of whom, after speaking of his various charities, thus continues: "Not only did he, as we have said, offer his goods, but also his very self, as a lively sacrifice to God, and hence, in the solemn celebration of Mass, and chiefly at that part where there is made a special memorial of the living and the dead, he was wont to shed many tears out of the humility of his heart, reputing himself unworthy, as he was wont to express it in speaking to his secretary, to perform such an office, or to handle the most sublime mysteries of the Church."

From the same biographer we add to the foregoing a further testimony as to what a hold this devotion of predilection had taken upon the soul of the Founder of Oxford:

"Among his charities we accordingly find a great many which were solely directed to the relief of the suffering souls. Wykeham's benevolence had in it one admirable feature: it was not left to be carried out after his death by his executors, but all his great acts of munificence were performed in his own lifetime. One of his first cares, after his accession to the See of Winchester, was to found a chantry in the Priory of Southwyke, near Wykeham, for the repose of the souls of his father and mother and sister, who were buried within the priory church; and in all his after foundations provisions were made for the continual remembrance of the dead; and (ever grateful to his early friends) King Edward III., the Black Prince, and King Richard II. were all commended to the charity of those who, as they prayed for Wykeham, were charged at the same time to pray for the souls of his benefactors."

In Winchester we read, also, of the College of the Holy Trinity, endowed as a "carnarie," or charnel-house, of the city. The chief duties of the priests belonging to the chantry attached thereto were to bury the dead, and keep up perpetual Masses for the souls of the departed.

Those Colleges of Winchester, with their simple beauty and grandeur of design, with their conventional rule of life, the singing of Matins, and the daily chanting of the divine office by chaplains and fellows, offer to us a very fair picture, indeed. But we observe that in the Masses sung with "note and chant," there is one specially mentioned for the souls of the founder's parents, and of all the faithful departed; a second for the souls of King Edward III., Queen Philippa, the Black Prince, Richard II., Queen Anne, and certain benefactors.

On the 24th of July, 1403, the saintly Wykeham made his will. He directed that his body should be laid in a chantry which he had himself founded, and at the altar of which he was wont to offer up the Holy Sacrifice. He desired that on the day of his burial, "to every poor person coming to Winchester, and asking alms, for the love of God, and for the health of his soul, there should be given fourpence." Alms were likewise to be distributed in every place through which his body was to pass, and large provision was made for Masses and prayers for the repose of his soul. He had, besides, made an agreement with the monks of St. Swithin's, by which they were to offer three Masses daily for his parents and benefactors in the chantry chapel; the first of these was a Mass of Our Lady, to be said very early. The boys attached to the College were, moreover, to sing every night in perpetuity, either the _Salve Regina_ or _Ave Regina_, with a _De Profundis_ for his soul's repose. So, as the hour of his death drew near, he who had concerned himself through life with the souls of the departed, essayed to make provision for his own. Since that hour when he proceeded to the high altar of Winchester Cathedral, escorted by the Lord Prior of Winchester and the Abbot Hyde, to celebrate his first Pontifical Mass, the same constant memory of the dead had been with him, as when kneeling he prayed aloud for the soul of his predecessor, William de Edyndon, and bade the choir chant the _De Profundis_, while he himself recited the _Fidelium omnium conditor_.

But leaving Oxford and its pious founder, we turn our gaze upon that ancient foundation of Eton, which was to serve as a preparatory school for the new establishment of King's College of Cambridge, which Henry had in contemplation. Henry, in his famous Eton charter, makes mention of his desire that this college shall be, as it were, a memorial of him, and be composed of clerks, "who," he says, "shall pray for our welfare whilst we live, and for our soul when we shall have departed this life." The Pope, Eugenius IV., afterwards granted a plenary indulgence to all who should visit the College Chapel of Our Lady of Eton, after Confession and Communion. Henry having visited the Colleges of Winchester, first met there with William Wayneflete, with whom he was to be united in so warm and beautiful a friendship. The "Master of Winton," as Wayneflete then was, is described as "simple, devout, and full of learning." But a short time after he was removed to Eton, and presently raised to the Provostship. Among many beautiful and pious customs, the memory of the dead was carefully preserved among the Eton scholars, and their verses on All Souls' Day were on the blessedness of those who die in the Lord. But Wayneflete is, of course, chiefly identified with Magdalen College, Oxford, said to be "the finest collegiate building in England," and of which he was the founder. It was, in truth, his dream, and one which he was destined to see realized. Here is neither the place nor time to dwell upon its beauties. The first stone was laid by the venerable Tybarte, its first president. He was buried in the middle of the inner chapel, and upon a cope, preserved among the ancient church vestments, is one upon which is worked the inscription, "_Orate pro anima Magistri Tybarte_." [1]

[Footnote 1: Pray for the soul of Master Tybarte.]

Among the rules and regulations of this new foundation was one which obliged the president, fellows, and scholars to recite, while dressing, certain prayers in honor of the Blessed Trinity, and a suffrage for the founder. Daily prayers were offered up for the repose of the souls of the founder's father and mother, "those of benefactors of the college, and for all the souls of the faithful departed." These suffrages were to be made by every one, at whatever hour of the day was most convenient.

There were many foundations of Masses attached to this College of Magdalen. Of these daily Masses, offered at the six altars of the chapel, the early "Morrow Mass" was always said in the Arundel Chapel, for the soul of Lord Arundel, the chief benefactor of the institute. Another Mass was to be said every day for "souls of good memory," including, besides the two kings, Henry III. and Edward III., his dear and never forgotten friends, Henry VI., Lord Cromwell, and Sir John Fastolfe, as well as King Edward IV. Other Masses and prayers were said for other intentions. The founder was to be especially remembered every quarter. Every day, after High Mass, one of the demys was to say aloud in the chapel, "_Anima fundatoris nostri Willielmi, et animae omnium fidelium defunctorum, per miscricordiam Dei in pace requiescat._" [1] The same prayer was to be repeated in the hall after dinner and supper.

[Footnote 1: "May the soul of our founder, William, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace."]

But the life of the Founder of Magdalen, the great Bishop, was drawing to a close. We shall see by his will how firm his faith in that most Catholic of all doctrines--Purgatory. After various bequests, he left a certain portion of his property for Masses and alms-deeds for his own soul and the souls of his parents and friends. On the day of his burial, and on the thirtieth day from the time of his decease, and on other appointed days, his executors are charged to have 5,000 Masses said in honor of the Five Wounds of Christ, and the Five Joys of Mary-- his favorite devotions--for the same intention. His remains were buried at Winchester, in a tomb which he had prepared as a place of burial during his lifetime. His was, indeed, the third chantry chapel in Winchester, the others being those of his predecessor. This custom was common to all the great prelates of the time. They prepared a place of sepulture during their life, and there where they officiated at all solemn offices, and so frequently celebrated requiems for the departed, they knew that their remains were one day to be laid, and prayers and the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass to be offered for themselves. It was thus a constant reminder of death.

A ceremony connected with Magdalen Tower seems likewise to have had its origin in this pious custom of remembrance of the dead. "On the 1st of May," says Anthony Wood, "the choral ministers of this house do, according to ancient custom, salute Flora from the top of the tower, at four in the morning, with vocal music of several parts." Of course, as a chronicler remarks, it was not to salute Flora that any Catholic choristers thus made vocal the sweet air of May. "The sweet music of Magdalen Tower," remarks the author of the Knights of St. John, "had a directly religious origin. On the 1st of May the society was wont annually to celebrate the obit or Requiem Mass of King Henry VII., who proved a generous benefactor to the College, and who is still commemorated as such upon that day. The requiem was not, indeed, celebrated _on the top of the tower_, as Mr. Chalmers, in his history of the university, affirms, in total ignorance that a _requiem_ is a Mass, and that a Mass must be said upon an altar; but it is probable that the choral service chanted on the 1st of May consisted originally of the _De Profundis_, or some other psalm, for the repose of Henry's soul, and as a special mark of gratitude." Some semblance of the old custom is still kept up, as ten pounds is still annually paid by the rectory of Slimbridge, in Gloucestershire, for the purpose of keeping up this ceremony.

Such are a few brief glimpses of this belief in Purgatory, which was so dear to the hearts of Englishmen, in those centuries before the blight of heresy had fallen upon the Island of the Saints. These hints upon the subject are given very much at random, and will simply serve to show how prayer for the dead was a part of all Christian lives in those ages of faith. It was incorporated in the rules of every collegiate institute, and more especially those two most notable ones of Oxford and Cambridge. It entered into every man's calculations, and was provided for in every Will and Testament. Had it been in our power to go backwards, into a still more remote antiquity, it would have been our pleasant task to find this belief in suffrage for the dead taking so vigorous root in every heart. Do we not find the Venerable Bede, "the Father of English Learning," who was born in 673 and died in 734, asking that his name may be enrolled amongst the monks of the monastery founded by St. Aidan, in order that his soul after death might have a share in the Masses and prayers of that numerous community, as he tells us himself in his Preface to the Life of St. Cuthbert. "This pious anxiety," says Montalembert, "to assure himself of the help of prayer for his soul after death is apparent at every step in his letters. It imprints the last seal of humble and true Christianity on the character of the great philosopher, whose life was so full of interest, and whose last days have been revealed to us in minute detail by an eye-witness." [1]

[Footnote 1: "Monks of the West," Vol v, p 89.]

The passionate entreaties of Anselm, another of the shining lights of early Anglo-Saxon days, that the soul of his young disciple Osbern be remembered in prayers and Masses, proves what value he attached to suffrages for the departed:

"I beg of you," he writes to his friend Gondulph, "of you and of all my friends, to pray for Osbern. His soul is my soul. All that you do for him during my life, I shall accept as if you had done it for me after my death. ... I conjure you for the third time, remember me, and forget not the soul of my well-beloved Osbern. And if I ask too much of you, then forget me and remember him.... The soul of my Osbern, ah! I beseech thee, give it no other place than in my bosom."

And do we not read of those "prayers for souls," incessant and obligatory, which were identified with all the monastic habits--thanks to that devotion for the dead which received in a monastery its final and perpetual sanction. "They were not content," says Montalembert, "even with common and permanent prayer for the dead of each isolated monastery. By degrees, vast spiritual associations were formed among communities of the same order and the same country, with the aim of relieving by their reciprocal prayers the defunct members of each house. Rolls of parchment, transmitted by special messengers from cloister to cloister, received the names of those who had 'emigrated,' according to the consecrated expression, 'from this terrestrial light to Christ,' and served the purpose of a check and register to prevent defalcation in that voluntary impost of prayer which our fervent cenobites solicited in advance for themselves or for their friends." And, of course, this was many years, even centuries, before the Feast of All Souls was instituted by the Abbot Odilo and the monks of Cluny in 998. English history, like every other history, furnishes us, indeed, with innumerable traits of this pious devotion to the Holy Souls. Obviously, our space must prevent us from entering more deeply into the subject. May the few scattered hints we have been enabled to throw out be of interest and profit to our readers!

DOCTRINE OF PURGATORY IN THE EARLY IRISH CHURCH.

WALSH. [1]

[Footnote 1: "Ecclesiastical History of Ireland." Rev J. Walsh.]

Coerced by the unvarying as well as unequivocal testimony of our writers, our liturgies, our canons, Usher was obliged to admit that the ancient Irish had been in the constant practice of offering up the eucharistic sacrifice, and that Masses, termed _Requiem Masses_, used to be celebrated daily. So interwoven is the doctrine of the eucharistic sacrifice with the records of the nation, that the antiquarian himself should reject the antiquities of Ireland if he had ventured on the denial of this practice .... Admitting the practice of the ancient Irish Church, Usher strives to escape from the difficulty, as well as attempts to deceive his readers, by pretending that it had been only a sacrifice of thanksgiving, offered as such for those souls who were in possession of eternal happiness, and that it had not been believed or practiced in the ancient Irish Church as a propitiatory sacrifice. .... The ancient canons of the Irish Church as clearly point out as the firmament demonstrates the glory of God, the doctrine of our Church regarding the eucharistic sacrifice, as one of thanksgiving, and also one of propitiation. In an ancient canon contained in D'Achery's collection (lib. 2, cap. 20), the synod says: "The Church offers for the souls of the deceased in four ways--for the very good, the oblations are simply thanksgiving; for the very bad, they become consolations to the living; for such as were not very good, the oblations are made in order to obtain full remission; and for those who were not very bad, that their punishment may be rendered more tolerable." Here, then, is enunciated in plain terms, the doctrine of the eucharistic oblation being a propitiatory sacrifice. When offered for the first class of happy souls, it is an offering of thanksgiving. When offered for those whose lives were bad in the sight of Heaven, its oblation is a comfort to the faithful. When offered for those who were not very good or very bad, the object of its oblation was to render their state more tolerable, and that full pardon would be at length accorded. The framers of this canon give us also the doctrine of a middle state, as a tenet also believed by the Church of Ireland.

Another canon, still more ancient, and which is reckoned among those of St. Patrick, is entitled "Of the Oblation for the Dead." This canon is couched in the following words: "There is a sin unto death, I do not say that for it any do pray." This sin is final impenitence.

The ancient Irish Missal, "the _Cursus Scotorum"_ contains an oration for the dead: "Grant, O Lord, to him, Thy servant, deceased, the pardon of all his sins, in that secret abode where there is no longer room for penance. Do Thou, O Christ, receive the soul of Thy servant, which Thou hast given, and forgive him his trespasses more abundantly than he has forgiven those who have trespassed against him." An oration is also given for the living and the dead: "Propitiously grant that this sacred oblation may be profitable to the dead in obtaining pardon, and to the living, in obtaining salvation; grant to them (living and dead) the full remission of all their sins, and that indulgence they have always deserved."

The liturgy usually called _"Cursus Scotorum"_ was that which had been first brought to Ireland by St,. Patrick, and was the only one that had been used, until about the close of the sixth century. About this period the Gallican liturgy, _"Cursus Gallorum"_ was, it is probable, introduced into Ireland. The _"Cursus Scotorum"_ is supposed to have been the liturgy originally drawn up and used by St. Mark the evangelist; it was afterwards followed by St. Gregory Nazianzen, St. Basil, and other Greek Fathers; then by Cassian, Honoratus, St. Cassarius of Aries, St. Lupus of Troyes, and St. Germaine of Auxerre, from whom St. Patrick received it, when setting out on his mission to Ireland. A copy of the "_Cursus Scotorum_" was found by Mabillon, in the ancient monastery of Bobbio, of which St. Columbanus was founder, and which missal that learned writer believes to have been written at least one thousand years before his time. ... It contains two Masses for the dead; one a general Mass, and the other "_Missa Sacerdotis defuncti_" (Mass for a deceased priest).

PRINCE NAPOLEON'S PRAYER.

This prayer, in the handwriting of the Prince Imperial, was found among the papers in his desk at Camden Palace. In publishing it the Morning Post adds: "The elucidation of his character alone justifies the publication of such a sacred document, which will prove to the world how intimately he was penetrated with all the feelings which most become a Christian, and which give higher hopes than are afforded by the pains and merits of this transitory life." The following is a translation: "O God, I give to Thee my heart, but give me faith. Without faith there is no strong prayer, and to pray is a longing of my soul. I pray, not that Thou shouldst take away the obstacles on my path, but that Thou mayst permit me to overcome them. I pray, not that Thou shouldst disarm my enemies, but that Thou shouldst aid me to conquer myself. Hear, O God, my prayer. Preserve to my affection those who are dear to me. Grant them happy days. If Thou only givest on this earth a certain sum of joy, take, O God, my share, and bestow it on the most worthy, and, may the most worthy be my friends. If thou seekest vengeance on man, strike me. Misfortune is converted into happiness by the sweet thought that those whom we love are happy. Happiness is poisoned by the bitter thought: while I rejoice, those whom I love a thousand times better than myself are suffering. For me, O God, no more happiness. Take it from my path. I can only find joy in forgetting the past. _If I forget those who are no more, I shall be forgotten in my turn_, and how sad the thought that makes me say, 'Time effaces all.' The only satisfaction I seek is that which lasts forever, that which is given by a tranquil conscience. O, my God! show me where my duty lies, and give me strength to accomplish it always. Arrived at the term of my life, I shall turn my looks fearlessly to the past. Remember it will not be for me a long remorse. I shall be happy. Grant, O God, that my heart may be penetrated with the conviction that those whom I love and who are dead shall see all my actions. My life shall be worthy of this witness, and my innermost thoughts shall never make them blush."

That single line, "If I forget those who are no more, I shall be forgotten in my turn," is an epitome of what is taught us, and what our own hearts feel in relation to the dead. May the noble young heart that poured forth this beautiful prayer be remembered by Christian charity now that he is amongst the departed!

THE HELPERS OF THE HOLY SOULS. BY LADY GEORGIANA ILLERTON.

It has always seemed to me a particularly interesting subject of thought to trace as far back as possible the origin of great and good works,--to ascertain what were the tendencies or the circumstances which concurred in awakening the first ideas, or giving the first impulses, which have eventually led to results the magnitude of which was little foreseen by those destined to bring them about; how much of natural character, and what peculiar gifts, united with God's grace in the formation of some of those grand developments of religion which have been the joy and the glory of the Church.

What would we not give to know, for instance, at what page, at what sentence, of the volume of the "Lives of the Saints" which St. Ignatius was reading on his sick couch at the Castle of Loyola, the thought came into his mind the ultimate development of which was the foundation of the Society of Jesus? or when the blessed Father Clavers' soul was for the first time moved by a casual mention, perhaps, of the sufferings of the negro race? or the particular disappointment at some Parisian lady going out of town in the midst of her works of charity, or at another being detained at home by the sickness of some relative, which suggested to St. Vincent de Paul the first idea of gathering together a few servant girls from the country, to do with greater regularity, if not more zeal, the visiting amongst the poor which the ladies had undertaken, and thus founding the Order of the Sisters of Charity? I suppose that every one who has done anything worth doing in the course of their lives could call to mind the moment when a book, a sermon, a conversation, a casual word, perhaps,--or, if they have been so favored, a direct inspiration from God in the hour of prayer,--has given the impulse--set fire, as it were, to the train lying ready in their hearts. But long before this decisive time has come, indications have existed, thoughts have arisen, feelings have been awakened, which, like the cloud big as a man's hand, have foreshadowed the deluge of graces and mercies about to inundate their souls.

As an instance of these indications of a particular bias, I was struck with the mention of a childish fancy in the early years of the foundress of the Order of Helpers of the Souls in Purgatory,--a new community, which has sprung up during the last ten years, and has a history well worth relating. To many this fresh manifestation of the spirit of the Church on earth, and of its close affinity with the suffering Church in Purgatory, has come as a wonderful blessing and consolation, and inspired them with a grateful regard for these new oblates and victims of charity to the dead.

About thirty years ago a little girl in the town of N--, in France, had been much struck with the mention of Purgatory. It made a very great impression upon her. She used to picture it to herself as a dark closet, in which a little friend of hers who had lately died was perhaps shut up, whilst she herself was playing in the garden and running after butterflies; and she kept longing to open the door and let her out. This little girl was subsequently educated in one of the Convents of the Sacred Heart, and learnt in that school lessons of self-devotion and ardent zeal for souls which were hereafter to bear fruit. She has retained to this day an enthusiastic affection for the religious teachers of her childhood; and devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus is one of the principal devotions of the order she has founded.

The thought which had occurred to her almost in infancy continued to haunt her in another form as she grew older. She kept asking herself," How could I help God? He is our helper: how can we help Him? He gives me everything: how could I give Him everything?" And the answer which grace put into her heart to these oft-repeated questions was always, "By paying the debts of the souls in Purgatory."

The inevitable result of this thought was the desire to have wherewith to pay these debts. For this object the necessity of a perfect life, of a daily sanctification, of an ever-increasing store of merits and satisfactions, was obvious. Hence naturally arose the idea of the community-life, of the practice of the evangelical counsels, and of a meritorious, arduous, self-sacrificing charity towards the poor, in order worthily to pray, to act, and to suffer for the souls in Purgatory--to become, as it were, a co-operator with our Lord, by aiding His designs of mercy towards them, whilst satisfying His justice by voluntary expiation. This lady was not led by one of those startling bereavements which close a person's prospects of earthly happiness, and leave them no object to live for but the hope of winning mercy at God's hands for some dear departed one; or by the terrible anxiety about the state of some beloved soul which forces on the survivor the practice of a continual appeal to His compassionate goodness. Her zeal for the souls in Purgatory was perfectly free from any earthly attachment; it was as disinterested as possible, and sprung up in her heart before she had known what it is to lose a friend or a relative, before she had experienced the keen anguish of bereavement. She was a happy, contented girl, living in a cheerful and comfortable home, beloved by her family, enjoying all innocent pleasures, going occasionally into society, and amusing herself like other young people; devoted, indeed, to good works, and taking the lead in the numerous charities existing in her native town. But this was not to be her eventual mode of life. It was good as far as it went; but she had been chosen for the accomplishment of a special work, and grace was continually urging her to its fulfilment.

On the 1st of November, 1853, Mdlle. ---- was hearing vespers with her father and her mother in a church dedicated to Our Lady. Whilst the Blessed Sacrament was being exposed on the altar, she felt a strong internal inspiration prompting her to form an association of prayers and offerings for the dead; but, afraid of being misled by her imagination, she prayed earnestly that God would give her a sign that this was indeed His will. As she was coming out of the church, a friend of hers stopped her in the porch, and of her own accord proposed that they should offer up jointly, during the month set apart for special devotion to the souls in Purgatory, all their prayers and works for their relief. This seemed to her a token that her inspiration had been a true one, and that very evening an association was begun which by this time numbers not less than fifteen thousand members. On the following day, the 2d of November, during her thanksgiving after Communion, Mdlle. ---- was strongly impressed with the thought that there existed orders intended to supply every need in the Church militant, but none exclusively devoted to the relief of the suffering portion of the Church, and it appeared to her that she was called upon to fill up this void. This idea seemed at the outset too bold a one. She felt startled, almost alarmed, at its magnitude, and earnestly entreated our Lord to make known to her if such was indeed to be her mission. She begged of Him, by His Five Sacred Wounds, to give her five indications of His will in this respect. Her prayers were heard, and during the course of the years 1854 and 1855 these tokens were successively vouchsafed to her. What she had asked for was, 1st, that the Holy Father should approve of in writing, and give his blessing to, the association of prayers set on foot on All Saints' Day (on the 7th of July, 1854, Pius IX. wrote, with his own hand, at the bottom of the petition presented to him, "_Benedicat vos Deus benedictione perpetua_"--may God bless you with an everlasting blessing); 2d, that a great number of Bishops should approve of this association; 3d, that it should extend rapidly; 4th, that a few pious persons should co- operate in the scheme, and devote themselves to works of charity in behalf of the souls in Purgatory; 5th, that a priest might be met with who had previously formed a similar project.

In the month of July, 1855, Mdlle. ---- thought of consulting the Curé d'Ars, whom she had for the first time heard of a little while before. The sanctity of this extraordinary man was beginning to be much spoken of, not only in France, but all over Europe. Pilgrims flocked to the insignificant little town of Ars, seeking the advice and help of the poor _curé_--whose ascetic mode of life, spiritual discernment, heroic virtues, and even miraculous gifts, were gradually becoming known, in spite of the desperate efforts he made to conceal them. We can hardly imagine, when reading his Life, that in the neighboring country of France, and in our own day, a man was actually living that we might have seen and spoken and gone to confession to, the details of whose supernatural existence are like the marvels that we read of in the "Lives of the Saints." Mdlle. ---- felt persuaded that this holy priest was the instrument appointed by God to make her acquainted with His will, and earnestly longed in some way or other to communicate with him. She did not think of obtaining leave from her parents to go to Ars. It seemed to her that his answer to her question, after he had considered the subject before God in prayer, would be more unbiassed, and carry greater weight with it, than if she had spoken of it to him herself. She did not wish to be influenced by any human considerations, or to be tempted to say more than, "Such is my thought and desire; does it come from God?" With this view she began a novena, and on the day it ended one of her friends called to tell her she was going to Ars, and to inquire if she could do anything for her. On the 5th of August this friend sent her M. Vianney's answer: "Tell her that she can establish, as soon as she likes, an order for the souls in Purgatory."

The future foundress never had any personal communication with the Curé d'Ars, and yet he always used to say, "I know her." On the 30th of October Mdlle. ---- entreated him to pray on All Souls' Day for her intention, and on the 11th of November the Abbé T--, his assistant in his extensive correspondence, wrote to her as follows:

"Your edifying letter reached me at Pont d'Ain, where our worthy Bishop, Monseigneur Chalandon, was preaching a retreat. This seemed expressly arranged by Providence, in order that I should speak to him of you and your pious projects. On my return to Ars, on All Souls' Day, I mentioned your wishes to my holy _curé_, begging him to meditate on the subject in prayer before he gave me an answer. Three or four times since I have put to him the same question, and always received the same answer. 'He thinks that it is God who has inspired you with the thought of a heroic self-devotion, and that you will do well to found an order in behalf of the souls in Purgatory.' Whether the good _curé_ speaks in consequence of a divine enlightenment, or whether he only expresses his own opinion and his own wishes, which his tender devotion to the souls in Purgatory would naturally incline in favor of your design, neither I nor any of those most intimately acquainted with him can presume to say. But you can remain certain of two things,--that he quite approves of your vocation to the religious life, and of the foundation of this new order, which he thinks will increase rapidly. This is surely enough to confirm you in your intention, which you will carry into effect whenever and wherever it will please God to open a way to it, and you will then be the faithful instrument of His Divine Providence."

On the 25th of the same month M. Vianney sent a message to Mdlle. ---- in answer to a letter in which she had spoken of the obstacles which she foresaw on the part of her family. The Abbé T---- writes:

"If I have not written to you before, it is because you particularly wished to have an answer _after special prayer_. And now here is this much-wished-for answer. The good _curé_ has expressed himself as explicitly as possible. I told him that you were troubled at the thought of a separation from your family more on their account than your own, and also at relinquishing the many charitable works which you carry on in your parish. To my great surprise, he who generally very strongly recommends young people not to act against their parents' wishes, but patiently to await their consent, did not hesitate in advising you to proceed. He says that the tears your parents are now shedding will soon be dried up. Do not, then, be afraid to let your heart burn with the love of Jesus. He will find a way of removing all the obstacles in your path, and of making you an angel of consolation to His holy spouses, the souls in Purgatory. The moon has no light in herself, and only reflects that of the sun. This is truly my case with regard to our saintly priest. I will constantly remind him to pray for you, and will unite my unworthy prayers to his, that, in the terrible struggle in your heart between nature and grace, grace may remain victorious."

When this letter reached Mdlle. ----, the principal difficulty she foresaw was already removed. On the 21st of November, the Feast of the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin, her mother, seeing that her heart was ready to break with the wish and the fear of broaching the subject so painfully interesting to them both, had the pious courage to speak first, and to give her full consent to her child's vocation.

Both mother and daughter were struck some time afterwards at finding in a little prayer-book they had not seen before, called "The Month of November Consecrated to the Souls in Purgatory," the following prayer, appointed to be said on the 21st of November, the very day on which they had made their sacrifice, and uttered for the first time the bitter word _separation_.

"O Holy Spirit! who at divers times has raised up religious orders for the needs of the Church Militant; O Father of Light! full of compassion and zeal for the dead; we implore Thee to raise up also in behalf of the suffering Church a new order, the object of which will be to work day and night for the relief and the deliverance of the souls in Purgatory; whose intentions, invariably dedicated to the dead, will apply to them the merits of all their prayers, fastings, vigils, and good works. Thou alone, Creating Spirit, canst achieve a work which will procure so much glory to God, and for which we shall never cease to sigh and pray."

Other difficulties failed not to arise. Some persons were of opinion that Mdlle. ---- ought to remain in the world for the very sake of the objects she had in view, whereas her whole heart and soul were bent on consecrating herself without any reserve to our Lord. She was warned that her parents, who had never been separated from their children, would suffer terribly if she left them; and finally, her own health began to fail. But whilst the world and the devil were multiplying the obstacles in her way, the venerable Curé d'Ars spared neither advice nor encouragement to support her in her arduous struggle. On the 23d of December his coadjutor writes:

"Divine Providence always acts with sweetness and with power. The consent of your good mother is an important step gained. The good _curé_ advises you not to go to Paris until you have some means wherewith to begin your work. You will do well to avail yourself of the interest you possess in your diocese to obtain some aid towards it. The _curé_ entirely approves of your becoming a religious. It is quite possible that God may restore your health; and he advises you to make a novena to St. Philomena.

"The very day I received your letter, Monseigneur Chalandon, our worthy Bishop, came to Ars, to call on my holy _curé_. I mentioned you to him. He told me he had written to you. He also says that you must not begin without some means and better health. Pray very hard that God may give you both. I think the souls in Purgatory ought to take this opportunity to prove that they have influence with God. Their interests are at stake in the removal of these obstacles." Mdlle. ---- had asked to make this novena conjointly with M. Vianney; and she soon received the following letter:

"It is to-day, the 9th of January, that our much-wished-for novena is to begin. The souls in Purgatory are interested in the re-establishment of your health. I am, you know, but the echo of our good and holy _curé_. Your director gives you excellent advice. You might, indeed, as soon as you have means enough of support for one year, go to Paris for a while, and come back again to forward the work in the same way you are doing now. You say, 'St. Vincent de Paul used to begin his works with nothing.' So he did. But then, as my good _curé_ observes, 'St. Vincent de Paul was a great saint!'"

According to M. Vianney's advice, on the 19th of January, 1856, the foundress went to Paris, where she met some persons who had, like her, resolved to devote themselves to the service of the souls in Purgatory; but who were quite at a loss how to proceed, and had no means of support. All sorts of crosses awaited this little band of Helpers of the Holy Souls, for such was the name they had taken. Not only were funds wanting for their establishment, but they did not know where to apply for work, and sufferings of every kind assailed them. Mdlle. ---- experienced what always happens to generous souls at the outset of their enterprises, when they have unreservedly devoted themselves to the service of God, and are being tried like gold in the furnace. Blame and neglect became her portion. Nobody thought it worth their while to assist a little band of women, whose heroic project had seemed admirable, indeed, in theory, but was now declared to be impracticable. They were considered as mere enthusiasts; and, indeed, as was said by M. Desgenettes, the venerable Curé of Notre Dame des Victoires, they were truly possessed with the holy folly of the Cross.

Meantime they had to work for their bread, and did work with all their might. But it was not always that work could be obtained; and trials without end beset the infant community, lodged in an attic in the Rue St. Martin. Every day, as they asked their Heavenly Father for their daily bread, they prepared themselves to receive with it their habitual portion of sufferings and privations--a fit noviceship for souls undertaking a work of heroic expiation. Mdlle. ----, who, for the first time in her life quitted a home where she had known all the comforts of affluence, had to undergo numberless privations. Illness combined with poverty to heighten their trials. Their Divine Master made them experience the kind of suffering which it was hereafter to be their special vocation to relieve. The Curé d'Ars fully understood the nature of that training, and never offered them any help but that of his advice and prayers. "He does not give you anything," says a letter written on the 16th of March, "but _he_ will ask St. Philomena, his heavenly treasurer, to put it into the hearts of those who could assist you to do so." And, indeed, help used to come whenever the distress of the holy society became too urgent. One day the foundress had not a single penny left, and was, to use a common expression, at her wits' end. But, thank God, there is something better than human wits or human ingenuity in such extremities; and that is prayer. The Sister who acted as housekeeper placed her bills before the Superioress, and asked for money to buy food for the day. Mdlle. ---- told her to wait a little, and went out, not knowing very well what to do next. She entered a church, threw herself on her knees before the Blessed Sacrament, and prayed long and fervently. As she was coming away she stopped before an image of our Holy Mother, and clasping her hands, exclaimed: "My Blessed Mother, you _must_ get me 100 francs to-day. I will take no refusal. You _cannot_, you never do forsake your children." She went straight home, and up the dingy stairs into the little room inhabited by the infant community. The instant she opened the door her eyes fell on a letter lying on the table. She opened it with a beating heart, and found in it a note of 100 francs. There was no name; not a word written on the cover. The postman had just left it, and to this day the donor of this sum, or the place it came from, has not been discovered. Another time eight sous was all that remained in the purse of the associates. They agreed to lay out this money to advantage, and accordingly employed it in purchasing a little statue of St. Joseph, whom they instituted their treasurer. The Saint has fulfilled ever since the trust reposed in him; but he often waits till the very last moment to supply the necessities of his clients. I have seen this little image in their convents. It is, of course, very dear to them.

One day, when no needle-work was to be had, and distress was threatening them, a little girl came to their room, and asked if they had finished the bracelets she had been told to call for. Finding she had mistaken the direction, the child said: "You could have some of that work to do if you liked."

Upon inquiry they found that the employment consisted in threading rows of pearls for foreign exportation; that it was less fatiguing and better paid than needle-work, and proved for some months a valuable resource. On another occasion the sum of 500 francs was required for some pressing necessity. This time the foundress had recourse to our Lady of Victories. Having placed the matter in her hands, she went to call on a person whom she thought might lend her this money, but met with a decided negative. She did not know any one else in Paris to whom she could apply; but on leaving the house she met a gentleman, with whom she had no previous acquaintance, who came up to her and said: "I think you are Mdlle. ----, and that you have a special devotion for the souls in Purgatory. Will you allow me to place this 500 francs at your disposal, and to recommend my intentions to your prayers?" Meanwhile illnesses and trials continued to affect the little community. The Abbé T---- writes from Ars: "Do not ask for miraculous cures. _M. le Curé_ complains that St. Philomena sends us too many people." The next letter is full of kind encouragement: "_M. le Curé_ only smiles when I tell him all you have to go through, and he bids me repeat the same thing to you, which he desired me to write to a good Sister, devoted to all sorts of good works and suffering cruel persecution. 'Tell her that these crosses are flowers which will soon bear fruit.' You have thought, prayed, taken advice, and thoroughly weighed the sacrifices you will have to make, and you have every reason to believe that in doing this work you are doing God's will. The energy which He alone can give will enable you to accomplish what you have begun."..."_M. le Curé_ has said to me several times, in a tone of the strongest conviction, 'Their enterprise cannot fail to succeed; but the foundress will have to experience what anxiety and what labor, what efforts and what sufferings, have to be endured ere such a work can be consolidated; but,' he adds, 'if God is with them, who shall be against them?'"

On the 20th of June the Superioress received another letter from the same good priest:

"I feel deeply affected," he writes, "at the thought of the many and severe trials which beset you. Tell your friend that the holy _curé_ bids her not to look back, but obey with courage the sacred call she has received. The souls in Purgatory must be enabled to say of you, 'We have advocates on earth who can feel for us, because they know themselves what it is to suffer.' And mind you go on praying to St. Philomena, and begging of her to obtain for you the means necessary for the accomplishment of your holy projects."

The associates continued to pray, to work, and to suffer with patience and cheerfulness. They received at last some unexpected assistance. New members proposed to join them; but it became then absolutely necessary to hire a house. The Superioress searched in every direction for a suitable one, but without success. It seems as if the words, "there was no room for them," were destined to prove applicable to all religious foundations during their periods of probationary trial. After having exerted herself, and employed others in vain for a long time, the Superioress received a message from a holy man whose prayers she had asked, desiring her to go to a particular part of the town, and to await there some providential indication as to the abode she was seeking. For several hours she paced up and down the streets of that part of Paris, praying interiorly, but totally at a loss where to apply. At last she accidentally turned into the Rue de la Barouillière, and saw a house and garden with a bill upon it indicating that it was to be let or sold. She immediately asked to go over it. All sorts of difficulties, apparently insurmountable ones, stood in the way of the purchase. They were overcome in a strangely unaccountable manner, and the money which had to be paid in advance was actually forthcoming on the appointed day, to the astonishment of all concerned. The history of this negotiation, and the wonderful answers to prayer vouchsafed in the course of it, are very striking; only the more we study the manifestations of God's Providence with regard to works carried on in faith and simple reliance on His assistance, the more _accustomed_ we get to these miracles of mercy. The Helpers of the Souls in Purgatory took possession of their new home on the 1st of July, 1856, and not long after began their labors amongst the poor. An act of kindness solicited at their hands towards a sick and destitute neighbor soon after their arrival, was the primary cause of their choosing as their particular line of charity attendance on the sick poor in their own destitute homes by day and by night also. This, together with their prayers, their fasts, and their watches, is the continual sacrifice they offer up for the souls in Purgatory.

* * * * *

Before I go on with the history of the Helpers of the Holy Souls in Purgatory, I must describe to you their house,--No. 16 Rue de la Barouillière,--a very small and inconvenient one at the time of their installation, but which has since been re-modelled according to the wants of the increasing community, and an adjoining one added to it. I have often visited this convent, which soon becomes dear to those who would fain help the many beloved ones removed from their sight, but feel the impotency of their own efforts, their want of holiness, of courage, and of perseverance in this blessed work. The sight of this religious house is very touching; the inscriptions on the walls, which are taken from the Holy Scriptures and the writings of the Saints, all bear reference to the state of departed souls, and our duty towards them; the quiet chapel where the Office for the Dead is daily said, and a number of Masses offered up. The memorials of the saintly Curé d'Ars, whose spirit seems to hover over the place, gives a peculiar character to its aspect. The nuns do not wear the religious dress, but are simply dressed in black, like persons in mourning.

* * * * *

On the 18th of August, 1856, Monseigneur Sibour, the Archbishop of Paris, came to visit and bless the new community. "It is a grain of mustard-seed," he said, "which will become a great tree, and spread its branches far and wide." He approved of all that had been done since the house had been opened, and allowed Mass to be said every day in the chapel as soon as it could be properly fitted up, which was the case on the ensuing 5th of November. On the 8th of the same month the house was solemnly consecrated to the Blessed Virgin; the keys were laid at the feet of her image, and she was entreated to become herself the Superioress of the congregation.

It was on the 27th of December, the feast of the disciple whom Jesus loved, the great apostle of charity, that the foundress and five other Sisters made their first vows. A few days afterwards, Monseigneur Sibour was about to sign a grant of indulgences for the work of the religious; someone standing beside him said, "Monseigneur, the souls in Purgatory are guiding your pen." He smiled, and made haste to write his name. He little thought how soon he would be himself numbered with the dead. It was on the 3d of January, 1857, that his tragical death took place.

* * * * *

On the 4th of August, 1859, the holy Curé of Ars died; but he lives in the hearts and in the memories of the community which owes so much to his prayers and his advice. His name is frequently on their lips; often has his intercession obtained for them miraculous cures. Every memorial of him is carefully preserved and venerated.

* * * * *

In the course of the year 1859, on the Feast of St. Benedict, Cardinal Morlot sanctioned the institution of a third order of Helpers of the Souls in Purgatory, and the affiliation to it of honorary members. The ladies of the third order engage to lead a practically Christian life in the world, to perform exactly all their religious duties, and those of their state of life. They promise, in their measure, to suffer, act, and pray for the dead, and offer up their good works, the sacrifices they may be inspired to make, and the devotions prescribed by a simple and easy rule adapted to their condition, for this object.... On the day of the institution of the third order, twenty-eight ladies joined it, received the cross, and made their act of consecration in presence of the Archbishop. The honorary members have been continually and rapidly increasing in number.

* * * * *

The new order has a special devotion to St. Joseph, the great minister of God's mercy to all religious, the particular protector of the souls in Purgatory, the foster-father of Christ's poor, and the helper of the dying. He was himself once in limbo, and knows what it is to wait. It is scarcely necessary to speak of their devotion to the Blessed Virgin, whom they have crowned as the Queen of Purgatory, and invoke under the title of Our Lady of Providence. They specially keep the Feast of the Sacred Heart, those of St. Ignatius and St. Gertrude; but All Souls is of course the day of their most particular devotion. The Holy Sacrament is exposed during the whole time of the Octave.

* * * * *

And now, to use words of Père Blot, of the Society of Jesus: "How consoling a thought it is that as the Holy Souls in Purgatory, in all probability, and according to the opinion of the greatest theologians, know what we do for them, and pray for us, they see these acts of charity; they see these devoted women making themselves the slaves of the poor, and sowing in tears, that they themselves may reap in joy. We cannot also but believe that the prayers of the Holy Souls, and perhaps their influence, contribute to the success of the mission carried on for their sakes and in their name amidst the poor and suffering. Several times when they have been invoked by the community, wonderful cures have been vouchsafed and favors obtained. Instances of this kind have excited the astonishment of physicians, and confirmed a pious belief in the efficacy of those prayers. St. Catherine, of Bologna, used to say, 'When I wish to obtain some favor from the Eternal Father, I invoke the souls in the place of expiation, and charge them with the petition I have to make to Him, and I feel I am heard through their means.' Let us, then, if we feel inspired to do so, ask the prayers of the souls in Purgatory; but, above all things, let us pray for them, and, like these religious, join to our prayers acts of self-denying charity towards the poor. Let us always remember, that to the Eternal Lord of all things everything is present--the future as well as the past. We call Him the King of Ages, because the order of events depends wholly on His will, and nothing in their course or succession can alter or change the effects of that will. He looks upon what is to come as if it were present or already past. In consideration of the prayers, the suffrages, and the good works of the Church, which He foresees, He grants proportionate graces, even as if those prayers and good works had been already offered up.... Amongst the Helpers of the Holy Souls several have made great sacrifices to God in order to obtain mercy for souls long ago called away from this world. We can all imitate their example. 'Oh! if it was not too late!' is the cry of many a heart tortured by anxiety for the fate of some loved one who has died apparently out of the Church, or not in a state of grace. We answer, 'It is never too late. Pray; act; suffer. The Lord foresaw your efforts. The Lord knew what was to come, and may have given to that soul at its last hour some extraordinary graces, which snatched it from destruction, and placed it in safety where your love may still reach it, your prayers relieve, your sacrifices avail.'"

I could not resist closing this letter with these sentences, which have raised the hopes and stimulated the courage of many mourners. I only wish this imperfect sketch of the Order of Helpers of the Holy Souls, and of the nature of their work, might prove a first though feeble step towards the introduction amongst us at some future day of a Sisterhood which, in the words used on his death-bed by Father Faber, the great advocate amongst us of devotion to the Holy Souls in Purgatory, "procures such immense glory to God."

THE MASS IN RELATION TO THE DEAD.

O'BRIEN [1]

[Footnote 1: Rev. John O'Brien, A.M., Prof. of Sacred Liturgy at Mt. St. Mary's, Emmittsburg. "History of the Mass and its Ceremonies in the Eastern and Western Churches."]

The Mass of Requiem is one celebrated in behalf of the dead.... If the body of the deceased be present during its celebration, it enjoys privileges that it otherwise would not, for it cannot be celebrated unless within certain restrictions. Masses of this kind are accustomed to be said in memory of the departed faithful, _first_, when the person dies--or, as the Latin phrase has it, _dies obitus seu deposifionis_, which means any day that intervenes from the day of one's demise to his burial; _secondly_, on the third day after death, in memory of Our Divine Lord's resurrection after three days' interval; _thirdly_, on the seventh day, in memory of the mourning of the Israelites seven days for Joseph (Gen. i. 10); _fourthly_, on the thirtieth day, in memory of Moses and Aaron, whom the Israelites lamented this length of time (Numb. xx.; Deut. xxxiv.); and, finally, at the end of the year, or on the anniversary day itself (Gavant., Thesaur. Rit. 62). This custom also prevails with the Orientals.

During the early days it was entirely at the discretion of every priest whether he said daily a plurality of Masses or not (Gavant., Thesaur. Rit. p. 19). It was quite usual to say two Masses, one of the occurring feast, the other for the benefit of the faithful departed. This practice, however, kept gradually falling into desuetude until the time of Pope Alexander II. (A. D. 1061-1073), when that pontiff decreed that no priest should say more than one Mass on the same day.

* * * * *

Throughout the kingdom of Aragon, in Spain (including Aragon, Valentia, and Catalonia), also in the kingdom of Majorca (a dependency of Aragon), it is allowed each secular priest to say two Masses on the 2d of November, the Commemoration of all the Faithful Departed, and each regular priest three Masses. This privilege is also enjoyed by the Dominicans of the Monastery of St. James at Pampeluna (Benedict XIV., _De Sacrif. Missal Romae, ex. Congr. de Prof. Fide_, an. 1859 editio, p. 139). This grant, it is said, was first made either by Pope Julius or Pope Paul III., and though often asked for afterwards by persons of note, was never granted to any other country, or to any place in Spain except those mentioned. For want of any very recent information upon the subject, I am unable to say how far the privilege extends at the present day. A movement is on foot, however, to petition the Holy See for an extension of this privilege to the Universal Church, in order that as much aid as possible may be given to the suffering souls in Purgatory.

* * * * *

In case of a death occurring (amongst the Armenians) Mass is never omitted. The Armenians say one on the day of burial and one on the seventh, fifteenth, and fortieth after death; also one on the anniversary day. This holy practice of praying for the dead and saying Mass in their behalf is very common throughout the entire East, with schismatics as well as Catholics.

* * * * *

As late as the sixteenth century, a very singular custom prevailed in England--viz.: that of presenting at the altar during a Mass of Requiem all the armor and military equipments of deceased knights and noblemen, as well as their chargers. Dr. Kock (Church of our Fathers, II. 507), tells us that as many as eight horses, fully caparisoned, used to be brought into the church for this purpose at the burial of some of the higher nobility. At the funeral of Henry VII., in Westminster Abbey, after the royal arms had first been presented at the foot of the altar, we are told that Sir Edward Howard rode into Church upon "a goodlie courser," with the arms of England embroidered upon his trappings, and delivered him to the abbots of the monastery (_ibid_). Something similar happened at the Mass of Requiem for the repose of the soul of Lord Bray in A. D. 1557, and at that celebrated for Prince Arthur, son of Henry VII. (_ibid_).

* * * * *

As the priest begins to recite the memento for the dead, he moves his hands slowly before his face, so as to have them united at the words "_in somno pacis_." This gentle motion of the hands is aptly suggestive here of the slow, lingering motion of a soul preparing to leave the body, and the final union of the hands forcibly recalls to mind the laying down of the body in its quiet slumber in the earth. As this prayer is very beautiful, we transcribe it in full. It is thus worded: "Remember, also, O Lord! Thy servants, male and female, who have gone before us with the sign of faith and sleep in the sleep of peace, N. N.; to them, O Lord! and to all who rest in Christ, we beseech Thee to grant a place of refreshment, light, and peace; through the same Christ our Lord. Amen." At the letters N. N. the names of the particular persons to be prayed for among the departed were read out from the diptychs in ancient times. When the priest comes to them now he does not stop, but pauses awhile at "_in, somno pacis_" to make his private memento of those whom he wishes to pray for in particular, in which he is to be guided by the same rules that directed him in making his memento for the living, only that here he cannot pray for the conversion of any one, as he could there, for this solely relates to the dead who are detained in Purgatory. Should the Holy Sacrifice be offered for any soul among the departed which could not be benefited by it, either because of the loss of its eternal salvation or its attainment of the everlasting joys of heaven, theologians commonly teach that in that case the fruit of the Mass would enter the treasury of the Church, and be applied afterwards in such indulgences and the like as Almighty God might suggest to the dispensers of his gift (Suarez, _Disp._, xxxviii, sec. 8). We beg to direct particular attention here to the expression "sleep of peace." That harsh word _death_, which we now use, was seldom or never heard among the early Christians when talking of their departed brethren. Death to them was nothing else but a sleep until the great day of resurrection, when all would rise up again at the sound of the angel's trumpet; and this bright idea animated their minds and enlivened all their hopes when conversing with their absent friends in prayer. So, too, with the place of interment; it was not called by that hard name that distinguishes it too often now, viz., the _grave-yard_, but was called by the milder term of _cemetery,_ which, from its Greek derivation, means a dormitory, or sleeping-place. Nor was the word _bury_ employed to signify the consigning the body to the earth. No, this sounded too profane in the ears of the primitive Christians; they rather chose the word _depose_, as suggestive of the treasure that was put away until it pleased God to turn it to better use on the final reckoning day. The old Teutonic expression for cemetery was, to say the least of it, very beautiful. The blessed place was called in this tongue _gottes-acker_--that is, God's field--for the reason that the dead were, so to speak, the seed sown in the ground from which would spring the harvest reaped on the day of general resurrection in the shape of glorified bodies. According to this beautiful notion, the stone which told who the departed person was that lay at rest beneath, was likened to the label that was hung upon a post by the farmer or gardener to tell the passer-by the name of the flower that was deposited beneath. This happy application of the word _sleep_ to death runs also through Holy Scripture, where we frequently find such expressions as "He slept with his fathers," "I have slept and I am refreshed," applied from the third Psalm to our Divine Lord's time in the sepulchre; the "sleep of peace," "he was gathered to his fathers," etc.

The prayers of the Orientals for the faithful departed are singularly touching. In the Coptic Liturgy of St. Basil the memento is worded thus: "In like manner, O Lord! remember also all those who have already fallen asleep in the priesthood and amidst the laity; vouchsafe to give rest to their souls in the bosoms of our holy fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; bring them into a place of greenness by the waters of comfort, in the paradise of pleasure where grief and misery and sighing are banished, in the brightness of the saints." The Orientals are very much attached to ancient phraseology, and hence their frequent application of "the bosom of Abraham" to that middle state of purification in the next life which we universally designate by the name of Purgatory. In the Syro-Jacobite Liturgy of John Bar Maadan, part of the memento is thus worded: "Reckon them among the number of Thine elect; cover them with the bright cloud of Thy saints; set them with the lambs on Thy right hand, and bring them into Thy habitation." The following extract is taken from the Liturgy of St. Chrysostom, which, as we have said already, all the Catholic and schismatic Greeks of the East follow: "Remember all those that are departed in the hope of the resurrection to eternal life, and give them rest where the light of Thy countenance shines upon them." But of all the Orientals, the place of honor in this respect must be yielded to the Nestorians; for, heretics as they are, too much praise cannot be given them for the singular reverence they show towards their departed brethren. From a work of theirs called the "Sinhados," which Badger quotes in his "Nestorians and their Rituals," we take the following extract: "The service of third day of the dead is kept up, because Christ rose on the third day. On the ninth day, also, there should be a commemoration, and again on the thirtieth day, after the example of the Old Testament, since the people mourned for Moses that length of time. A year after, also, there should be a particular commemoration of the dead, and some of the property of the deceased should be given to the poor in remembrance of him. We say this of believers; for, as to unbelievers, should all the wealth of the world be given to the poor in their behalf, it would profit them nothing." The Armenians call Purgatory by the name _Goyan_--that is, a mansion. The Chaldeans style it _Matthar_, the exact equivalent of our term. By some of the other Oriental Churches it is called _Kavaran_, or place of penance; and _Makraran_, a place of purification (Smith and Dwight, I. p. 169).

We could multiply examples at pleasure to prove that there is no church in the East to which the name of Christian can be given that does not look upon praying for the faithful departed, and offering the Holy Mass for the repose of their souls, as a sacred and solemn obligation. Protestants who would fain believe otherwise, and who not unfrequently record differently in their writings about the Oriental Christians, can verify our statements by referring to any Eastern Liturgy and examining for themselves. We conclude our remarks on this head by a strong argument in point from a very unbiased Anglican minister--the Rev. Dr. John Mason Neale. Speaking of prayers for the dead in his work entitled "A History of the Holy Eastern Church," general introduction, Vol. I. p. 509, this candid-speaking man uses the following language: "I am not now going to prove, what nothing but the blindest prejudice can deny, that the Church, east, west, and south, has, with one consentient and universal voice, even from Apostolic times, prayed in the Holy Eucharist for the departed faithful."

FUNERAL ORATION ON DANIEL O'CONNELL.

REV. THOMAS BURKE, O. P.

["Wisdom conducted the just man through the right ways, and showed him the kingdom of God, made him honorable in his labors, and accomplished his works. She kept him safe from his enemies, and gave him a strong conflict that he might overcome; and in bondage she left him not till she brought him the sceptre of the kingdom, and power against those that oppressed him, and gave him everlasting glory."--Wisdom x. [1] ]

[Footnote 1: From the funeral oration preached at Glassaevin Cemetery, in May, 1869, on the occasion of the removal of the remains of the Liberator to their final resting place.]

Nor was Ireland forgotten in the designs of God. Centuries of patient endurance brought at length the dawn of a better day. God's hour came, and it brought with it Ireland's greatest son, Daniel O'Connell. We surround his grave to-day to pay him a last tribute of love, to speak words of praise, of suffrage, and prayer. For two and twenty years has he silently slept in the midst of us. His generation is passing away, and the light of history already dawns upon his grave, and she speaks his name with cold, unimpassioned voice. In this age of ours a few years are as a century of times gone by. Great changes and startling events follow each other in such quick succession that the greatest names are forgotten almost as soon as those who bore them disappear, and the world itself is surprised to find how short-lived is the fame which promised to be immortal. The Church alone is the true shrine of immortality--the temple of fame which perisheth not; and that man only whose name and memory is preserved in her sanctuaries receives on this earth a reflection of that glory which is eternal in heaven. But before the Church will crown any one of her children, she carefully examines his claims to the immortality of her gratitude and praise. She asks, "What has he done for God and for man?" This great question am I come here to answer to-day for him whose tongue, once so eloquent, is now stilled in the silence of the grave, and over whose tomb a grateful country has raised a monument of its ancient faith and a record of its past glories; and I claim for him the need of our gratitude and love, in that he was a man of faith, whom wisdom guided in "the right ways," who loved and sought "the kingdom of God," who was "most honorable in his labors," and who accomplished his "great works;" the liberator of his race, the father of his people, the conqueror in "the undented conflict" of principle, truth and justice....

....Before him stretched, full and broad, the two ways of life, and he must choose between them: the way which led to all that the world prized--wealth, power, distinction, title, glory, and fame; the way of genius, the noble rivalry of intellect, the association with all that was most refined and refining--the way which led up to the council chambers of the nation, to all places of jurisdiction and of honor, to the temples wherein were enshrined historic names and glorious memories, to a share in all blessings of privilege and freedom.... Before him opened another way. No gleam of sunshine illumined this way; it was wet with tears--it was overshadowed by misfortune--_it was pointed out to the young traveller of life by the sign of the cross_, and he who entered it was bidden to leave all hope behind him, for it led through the valley of humiliation, into the heart of a fallen race, and an enslaved and afflicted people. I claim for O'Connell the glory of having chosen this latter path, and this claim no man can gainsay, for it is the argument of the Apostle in favor of the great lawgiver of old--"By faith Moses" denied himself to be the son of Pharoah's daughter.

....Into this way was he led by his love for his religion and his country. He firmly believed in that religion in which He was born. He had that faith which is common to all Catholics, and which is not merely a strong opinion nor even a conviction, but an absolute and most certain knowledge that the Catholic Church is the one and the only true messenger and witness of God upon earth; and that to belong to her communion and to possess her faith is the first and greatest of all endowments and privileges, before which everything else sinks into absolute nothing ... He was Irish of the Irish and Catholic of the Catholic. His love for religion and country was as the breath of his nostrils, the blood of his veins, and when he brought to the service of both the strength of his faith and the power of his genius, with the instinct of a true Irishman, his first thought was to lift up the nation by striking the chains off the National Church. And here again, two ways opened before him. One was a way of danger and of blood, and the history of his country told him that it ever ended in defeat and in great evil.... He saw that the effort to walk in it had swept away the last vestige of Ireland's national legislature and independence. But another path was still open to him, and wisdom pointed it out as "the right way." Another battle-field lay before him on which he could "fight the good fight" and vindicate all the rights of his religion and of his country. The armory was furnished by the inspired Apostle when he said: ... "Having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breast-plate of justice, and your feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Peace, in all things taking the shield of faith.... And take unto you the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word." O'Connell knew well that such weapons in such a hand as his were irresistible-- that girt around with the truth and justice of his cause, he was clad in the armor of the Eternal God, that with words of peace and order on his lips, with the strong shield of faith before him and the sword of eloquent speech in his hand, with the war-cry of obedience, principle, and law, no power on earth could resist him, for it is the battle of God, and nothing can resist the Most High.

* * * * *

... He who was the Church's liberator and most true son, was also the first of Ireland's statesmen and patriots. Our people remember well, as their future historian will faithfully record, the many trials borne for them, the many victories gained in their cause, the great life devoted to them by O'Connell. Lying, however, at the foot of the altar, as he is to-day, whilst the Church hallows his grave with prayer and sacrifice, it is more especially as the Catholic Emancipator of his people that we place a garland on his tomb. It is as the child of the Church that we honor him, and recall with tears of sorrow our recollections of the aged man, revered, beloved, whom all the glory of the world's admiration and the nation's love had never lifted up in soul out of the holy atmosphere of Christian humility and simplicity. Obedience to the Church's laws, quick zeal for her honor and the dignity of her worship, a spirit of penance refining whilst it expiated, chastening while it ennobled all that was natural in the man; constant and frequent use of the Church's holy sacraments which shed the halo of grace around his venerated head,--these were the last grand lessons which he left to his people, and thus did the sun of his life set in the glory of Christian holiness.

.... In the triumph of Catholic Emancipation, he pointed out to the Irish people the true secret of their strength, the true way of progress, and the sure road to victory.... Time, which buries in utter oblivion so many names and so many memories, will exalt him in his work. The day has already dawned and is ripening into its perfect noon, when Irishmen of every creed will remember O'Connell, and celebrate him as the common friend, and the greatest benefactor of their country. What man is there, even of those whom our age has called great, whose name, so many years after his death, could summon so many loving hearts around his tomb? We, to-day, are the representatives not only of a nation but of a race.... Where is the land that has not seen the face of our people and heard their voice? And wherever, even to the ends of the earth, an Irishman is found to-day, his spirit and his sympathy are here. The millions of America are with us--the Irish Catholic soldier on India's plains is present amongst us by the magic of love--the Irish sailor standing by the wheel this moment in far-off silent seas, where it is night, and the Southern stars are shining, joins his prayer with ours, and recalls the glorious image and the venerated name of O'Connell. ... He is gone, but his fame shall live forever on the earth, as a lover of God and of His people. Adversities, political and religious, he had many, and like a

"Tower of strength Which stood full square to all the winds that blew,"

the Hercules of justice and of liberty stood up against them. Time, which touches all things with mellowing hand, has softened the recollections of past contests, and they who once looked upon him as a foe, now only remember the glory of the fight, and the mighty genius of him who stood forth the representative man of his race, and the champion of his people. They acknowledge his greatness, and they join hands with us to weave the garland of his fame.

But far other, higher and holier are the feelings of Irish Catholics all the world over to-day. They recognize in the dust which we are assembled to honor, the powerful arm which promoted them, the eloquent tongue which proclaimed their rights and asserted their freedom, the strong hand which, like that of the Maccabees of old, first struck off their chains and then built up their holy altars. They, mingling the supplication of prayer and the gratitude of suffrage with their tears, recall--oh! with how much love--the memory of him who was a Joseph to Israel--their tower of strength, their buckler, and their shield--who shed around their homes, their altars, and their graves the sacred light of religious liberty, and the glory of unfettered worship. "His praise is in the Church," and this is the pledge of the immortality of his glory. "A people's voice" may be "the proof and echo of all Human fame," but the voice of the undying Church, is the echo of "everlasting glory," and, when those who surround his grave to-day shall have passed away, all future generations of Irishmen to the end of time will be reminded of his name and glory.

THE INDULGENCE OF PORTIUNCULA.

Towards the middle of the fourth century, four pilgrims from Palestine came to settle in the neighborhood of Assisi, and built a chapel there. Nearly two centuries after, this little chapel passed into the hands of the monks of St. Benedict, who owned some lots, or _portions_ of land, in the vicinity, whence came the name of _Portiuncula_, given first to those little plots of ground, and afterwards to the chapel itself. St. Bonaventure says that, later still, it was called "Our Lady of Angels," because the heavenly spirits frequently appeared there.

St. Francis, at the outset of his penitential life, going one day through the fields about Assisi, heard a voice which said to him: "Go, repair my house!" He thought the Lord demanded of him to repair the sanctuaries in which He was worshipped, and, amongst others, the Church of St. Damian, a little way from Assisi, which was falling to decay.

He went to work, therefore, begging in the streets of Assisi, and crying out: "He who giveth me a stone shall have one blessing--he who giveth me two, shall have two."

Meanwhile, Francis often bent his steps towards the little chapel of the Portiuncula, built about half a league from Assisi, in a fertile valley, in the midst of a profound solitude. The place had great charms for him, and he resolved to take up his abode there, but as the little chapel was urgently in need of repair, he undertook to do it, following, as he thought, the orders he had received from Heaven. He made himself a cell in the hollow of a neighboring rock, and there spent several years in great austerities. Some disciples, having joined him, inhabited caverns which they found in the rocks around, and some built themselves cells. This was the origin of the Order of St. Francis. The _Portiuncula_, or Our Lady of Angels, afterwards given to the holy penitent by the Benedictine Abbot of Monte Soubasio, thus became the cradle of the three orders founded by the Seraphic Patriarch, and is unspeakably dear to every child of St. Francis. [1]

[Footnote 1: The little chapel of the Portiuncula is now inclosed beneath the dome of the great basilica of Our Lady of Angels, built to preserve it from the injuries of the weather. It stands there still with its rough, antique walls, in all the prestige of its marvellous past. "I know not what perfume of holy poverty," says a pious author, "exhales from that venerable chapel. The pavement within is literally worn by the knees of the pious faithful, and their repeated and burning kisses have left their imprint on its walls."]

Francis, in the midst of his prodigious austerities, living always in the greatest privation, united, nevertheless, the most tender compassion for men and a marvellous love for poverty. He prayed above all, and with tears and groans, for the conversion of sinners. But one night--it was in October, 1221--Francis being inspired with a greater love and a deeper pity for men who were offending their God and Saviour, shedding torrents of tears, macerating his body, already attenuated by excessive mortifications, hears, all at once, the voice of an Angel commanding him to repair to the chapel of the Portiuncula. Ravished with joy, he rises immediately, and entering with profound respect into the chapel, he falls prostrate on the ground, to adore the majesty of God. He then sees Our Lord Jesus Christ, who appears to him, accompanied by His Holy Mother and a great multitude of Angels, and says to him: "Francis, thou and thy brethren have a great zeal for the salvation of souls; indeed, you have been placed as a torch in the world and as the support of the Church. Ask, then, whatsoever thou wilt for the welfare and consolation of nations, and for My glory."

In the midst of the wonders which ravished him, Francis made this prayer: "Our most holy Father, I beseech Thee, although I am but a miserable sinner, to have the goodness to grant to men, that all those who shall visit this Church may receive a plenary indulgence of all their sins, after having confessed to a priest; and I beseech the Blessed Virgin, Thy Mother, the advocate of mankind, to intercede, that I may obtain this favor."

The merciful Virgin interceded, and Our Lord said to Francis: "What thou dost ask is great, nevertheless thou shalt receive still greater favors. I grant it to thee, but I will that it be ratified on earth by him to whom I have given the power of binding and loosening."

The companions of the Saint overheard this colloquy between Our Lord and St. Francis; they beheld numerous troops of Angels, and a great light that filled the Church, but a respectful fear prevented them from approaching.

Next day Francis set out, accompanied by one of his brethren, and repaired to Perugia, where Pope Honorius III. then was. The Saint, introduced to the Pontiff, repeated the order he had received from Our Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and conjured him not to refuse what the Son of God had been pleased to grant him.

"But," said the Sovereign Pontiff, "thou askest of me something very great, and the Roman Court is not wont to grant such an indulgence." "Most Holy Father," replied Francis, "I ask it not of myself; it is Jesus Christ who sendeth me. I come on His behalf." Wherefore the Pope said publicly three times: _"I will that thou have it."_

The Cardinals made several objections; but Honorius, at length convinced of the will of God, granted most liberally, most gratuitously, and in perpetuity, this indulgence solicited so earnestly, yet with so much humility, _but only during one natural day, from evening till evening, including the night, till sunset on the following day._

At these words, Francis humbly bowed his head. As he was going away, the Pope demanded of him: "Whither goest thou, simple man? What assurance hast thou of that which thou hast obtained?" "Holy Father," he replied, "thy word is sufficient for me; if this Indulgence be the work of God, He Himself will make it manifest. Let Jesus Christ, His holy Mother and the Angels be in that regard, notary, paper and witness; I ask no other authentic act." Such was the effect of the great confidence he felt in the truth of the apparition.

The Indulgence of the Portiuncula had been two years granted, and still the day when the faithful might gain it was not fixed. Francis waited till Jesus Christ, the first Author of a grace so precious, should determine it.

Meanwhile, one night, when Francis was at prayer in his cell, the tempter suggested to him to diminish his penances: feeling the malice of the demon, he goes into the woods, and rolls himself amongst briers and thorns until he is covered with blood. A great light shines around him, he sees a quantity of white and red roses all about, although it is the month of January, in a very severe winter. God had changed the thorny shrubs into magnificent rose-bushes, which have ever since remained green and without thorns, and covered with red and white roses. [1] Angels, who appeared then in great numbers, said to him: "Francis, hasten to the church; Jesus is there with His holy Mother." At the same moment, he was clothed in a spotless white habit, and having reached the church, after a profound obeisance, he made this prayer: "Our Father, Most Holy Lord of heaven and earth, Saviour of mankind, vouchsafe, through Thy great mercy, to fix the day for the Indulgence Thou hast had the goodness to grant." Our Lord replied that He would have it to be from the evening of the day on which the Apostle St. Peter was bound with chains till the following day. He then ordered Francis to present himself to his vicar, and give him some white and red roses in proof of the truth of the fact, and to bring some of his companions who might bear testimony of what they had heard.

[Footnote 1: "We have received from Rome," says the editor of the "Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory," "some leaves from these miraculous rose-bushes. We will willingly give some to the devout clients of St. Francis."]

The Pope, convinced by proofs so incontestable, confirmed the Indulgence with all its privileges.

The Indulgence of the Portiuncula, was soon known throughout the whole world; and the prodigies which were seen wrought every year at St. Mary of Angels, excited the devotion of the faithful to gain it. Many times there were seen there fifty thousand, and even a hundred thousand persons assembled together from all parts.

Meanwhile, in order to facilitate the means of gaining an Indulgence so admirable, the Sovereign Pontiffs extended it to all the churches of the three Orders of St. Francis, and it may be gained by all the faithful indiscriminately. "Of all Indulgences," said Bourdaloue, "that of the Portiuncula is one of the surest and most authentic that there is in the Church, since it is an Indulgence granted immediately by Jesus Christ, a privilege peculiar to itself, and this Indulgence has spread amongst all Christian people with a marvellous progress of souls, and a sensible increase of piety."

The Indulgence of the Great Pardon has another very special privilege; it is, that it may be gained _totus quotus_--that is to say, as often as one visits a church to which it is attached, and prays for the Sovereign Pontiff; and this privilege may be enjoyed from the 1st of August about two o'clock in the afternoon, till sunset on the following day.

Pope Boniface VIII. said that it is "most pious to gain that Indulgence several times for oneself; for, although by the first gaining of a plenary Indulgence, the penalty be remitted, by seeking to gain it again, one receives an augmentation of grace and of glory that crowns all their good works." Besides, this Indulgence can be applied to the Souls in Purgatory, as it can be also gained for the living by way of satisfaction, provided they be in the state of grace.

It was one day revealed to St. Margaret of Cortona that the Souls in Purgatory eagerly look forward every year to the Feast of Our Lady of Angels, because it is a day of deliverance for a great number of them.

While speaking of the Indulgence of the Portiuncula, we are naturally disposed to say a few words in regard to the grievous outrage recently committed on that place, venerated for more than six hundred years by all Christian nations, and manifestly chosen as the object of divine predilection by all the prodigies there wrought.

The Italian government had unlawfully, and in a sacrilegious manner, possessed itself of the Convent of the Portiuncula; and notwithstanding the protest of all the members of the Order of St. Francis, and the indignation excited by so arbitrary an act in every Catholic heart, those iniquitous men put it up for sale, and actually sold it by public auction. The Minister General of the Franciscan Order, unwilling that this brightest gem of the Franciscan crown should fall into impious hands, resolved to have it purchased for him by a lay person. But how was this to be done, when he had no revenue, often not means enough for necessary expenses? a grave question, truly, for the children of St. Francis, who might have seen themselves bereft of the cradle of their Order, were it not that, at the critical moment, a man of a truly Christian heart came forward and advanced the thirty-four thousand francs, the price to which their precious relic had been raised. Thus, God would not permit that so many memories connected with His servant Francis should be effaced from the earth, although they would still have lived in the hearts of his children, and the Friars Minors are still the owners and possessors of that venerable sanctuary. [1]-- _Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory_, 1881.

[Footnote 1: Nevertheless, means must be taken to pay back this sum so seasonably advanced. Hence it is, that at the request of the Minister General of the Franciscans, Father Marie, of Brest, has made a touching appeal to all friends of the Order and of justice, and has opened subscription lists wherever there are children of St. Francis, and there are children of St. Francis all over the world. These lists, with the names of the pious donors, shall be sent to Assisium, to be preserved there in the very sanctuary of the Portiuncula.--ED. AL.]

CATHERINE OF CARDONA.

Catherine of Cardona was born in the very highest rank. She was but eight years old when she lost her father, Raymond of Cardona, who was descended from the kings of Aragon. Catherine had already made herself remarkable by her love of prayer, solitude, and mortification, and by her admirable fidelity to grace she had drawn down upon herself, at an age still so tender, the signal favor of Heaven.

One day, whilst absorbed in prayer in her little oratory, her father appeared to her enveloped in the flames of Purgatory, and, conjuring her to deliver him, he said to her: "Daughter, I shall remain in this fire until thou hast done penance for me." With a heart full of compassion, Catherine promised her father to satisfy the divine justice for him, and the vision disappeared.

From that moment Catherine, rising above the weakness of her age and sex, applied herself to those amazing austerities which have made her a prodigy of penance. To open Heaven to her father, she freely sheds, in bloody scourgings, the first fruits of that virginal blood which is to flow for half a century in innumerable torments. Magnanimous child, she is already the martyr of filial piety, but her tears, her mortifications, her prayers have disarmed the divine justice and discharged the paternal debt. Raymond, resplendent with the glory of the blessed, appears again to his daughter, and addresses her in these words: "God has accepted thy penance, my daughter, and I go to enjoy His glory. By that penance, thou hast become so pleasing to Jesus Christ that He has chosen thee for His spouse. Continue all thy life to immolate thyself as a victim for the salvation of souls; such is His divine will."

With these words, which filled the heart of Catherine with joy unspeakable, he goes to Heaven to sing the mercies of his God, and to intercede with Him, in his turn, for the beloved daughter who was his liberator.

Oh! happy, thrice happy Catherine! Whilst accomplishing an act of filial piety, she gained the title of Spouse of Christ, and secured for herself a powerful intercessor in heaven.--_Almanac of the Souls in Purgatory, 1881._

The life of the little Catherine was so admirable that we cannot resist the desire of giving some extracts from it here. It will be so much the more appropriate that her whole life was consecrated to the relief of the souls in Purgatory and the salvation of men.

Overwhelmed with the happiness of seeing herself chosen for the spouse of the God of Virgins, Catherine consecrates herself entirely to Him, and promises inviolable fidelity to Him. Rejoiced to belong to the same Spouse as the Agathas and Agnesses, she makes a vow of perpetual virginity, and exclaims in the fullness of her bliss: "Thou alone, mine Adorable Beloved, Thou alone shalt reign over my heart, Thou alone shalt have dominion over it for all eternity!" Then Jesus invisibly places on her finger the marriage ring, and endows with strength her who aspires only to die with Him on the cross.

Catherine, who, after the death of her father, was placed under the care of the Princess of Salerno, a near relative of her mother, leads in the palace of the princess a life no less rigorous than that of the penitents of the desert; but she will have no other witness of it than He by whom she alone desires to be loved. Condemned by her rank to wear rich clothing, she values only the glorious vesture of the soul, which is grace. The hair-cloth that macerates her flesh is her chosen garment. At that age, when people allow themselves to be dazzled by the world, Catherine of Cardona has trampled it beneath her feet, and later on, becoming entirely free from the slavery of the world, she retires to the Capuchin Convent at Naples, and there prepares, by a seclusion of twenty-five years, to give to the great ones of the earth an example of the most sublime virtues. Called by the Princess of Salerno to share her disfavor with the king, she hesitates not to quit her dear solitude, and repairs to Spain, in 1557. Her presence at Valladolid was an eloquent sermon, and produced the happiest fruits in souls. The Princess died at the end of two years; and Philip II., knowing the wisdom of Catherine, kept her at the Court, appointing her as governess to Don Carlos, his son, and the young Don Juan of Austria, afterwards the hero of Lepanto.

In 1562, Our Lord, in a vision, says to Catherine: "Depart from this palace; retire to a solitary cave, where thou mayest more freely apply thyself to prayer and penance." At these words, the soul of Catherine is inundated with joy, and she feels that no worldly obstacle could restrain her. She would fain set out forthwith, but her spiritual guides opposed her doing so. Finally, after many trials, whilst she was in prayer, before the dawn, the crucifix she wore hanging from her neck, suddenly rose into the air, and said: "Follow me!" She followed it to a window on the ground-floor; and although it was fastened with great iron bars, Catherine, without knowing how, found herself in the street. Transported with joy at this new miracle, she flew to the place where the Hermit of Alcada and another priest were waiting to conduct her to the desert. Seeing the heroic virgin, they blessed Him who had thus broken her chains. In order that she might not be recognized they cut off her hair, gave her a hermit's robe, and set out without delay. Arriving at a small hill about four leagues from Roda, Catherine said to her guides: "Here it is that God will have me take up my abode; let us go no farther." After a careful search they discovered amongst thorny hedges difficult to get through, a species of grotto sufficiently deep; but the entrance thereto was so narrow, and the roof so low, that Catherine, who was of medium height and rather full figure, could hardly stand upright in it. The two guides of the holy recluse, taking leave of her, left her some instruments of penance, and three loaves, for all provision. There it was that the daughter of the Duke of Cardona commenced, in 1562, that admirable life which has been the wonder of all succeeding ages.

Teresa, the seraphic Teresa, who lived at that time not far from Catherine's solitude, cried out in a transport of admiration: "Oh! how great must be the love that transported her, since she thought neither of food, nor danger, nor the disgrace her flight might bring upon her; what must be the intoxication of that holy soul, flying thus to the desert, solely engrossed by the desire of enjoying there without obstacle the presence of her Spouse! And how firm must be her resolution to break with the world, since she thus fled from all its pleasures!"

St. Teresa adds that Catherine spent more than eight years in this desert cave, that after having exhausted the small provision of three loaves left her by the hermit who had served her as a guide, she had lived solely on roots and wild herbs, but that, after several years, she met with a shepherd, who thenceforward faithfully supplied her with bread, of which she, nevertheless, ate but once in three days. The discipline which she took with a large chain lasted often for an hour and a half, and sometimes two hours. Her hair-cloth was so rough that a woman, returning from a pilgrimage, having asked hospitality of her, told me (it is still St. Teresa who speaks), that feigning sleep, she saw the holy recluse take off her hair-cloth and wipe it clean, for it was full of blood. The warfare she had to sustain against the demons made her suffer still more than her austerities; she told our sisters that they appeared to her, now in the form of great dogs who sprang on her shoulders, and now in that of snakes; but do as they might, they could not make her afraid.

She heard Mass in a convent of the Sisters of Mercy, a quarter of a league distant; sometimes she made the journey on her knees. She wore a tunic of coarse serge, and over that a robe of drugget so fashioned that she was taken for a man.

Nevertheless, the fame of her sanctity soon spread everywhere, and the people conceived so great a veneration for her that they flocked from every side, so that, on certain days, the surrounding country was covered with vehicles full of people going to see her.

"About this time," says St. Teresa, "she was seized with a great desire to found near her cave a monastery of religious, but being undecided in her choice of the order, she postponed for a time the execution of her design. One day while at prayer before a crucifix which she always carried about her, Our Lord showed her a white mantle, and gave her to understand that she was to found a monastery of barefooted Carmelites. She knew not till then that such an order existed, as she had never heard it mentioned; indeed, we had then but two monasteries of reformed Carmelites, that of Moncera and that of Pastrana. Catherine was speedily informed of the existence of this last. As Pastrana belonged to the Princess of Eboli, her former friend, she set out for that town with the firm resolution of doing what Our Lord had enjoined her to do. It was at Pastrana, in the church of our religious, that the Blessed Catherine took the habit of Our Lady of Mount Carmel, having no intention, notwithstanding that act, to embrace the religious life. Our Lord conducted her by another way, and she never felt any attraction towards that state. What kept her away from it was the fear of being obliged through obedience to moderate her austerities and quit her solitude."

As she had worn man's apparel ever since she had been in the desert, she would not now change it. So, in laying aside her hermit's robe, and assuming that of Carmel, she took a habit like that of the barefooted Carmelite monks, and wore it till her last breath. In this Catherine was led by a very special way.

Catherine had been preceded at Pastrana by the account of the wonders which had marked the eight years she had spent in her cave; she was thus greeted as a saint as soon as she appeared; no one was surprised to see her in her Carmelite habit, a cowl on her head, a white mantle on her shoulders, a robe of coarse drugget, and a leathern girdle. God permitted the appearance of Catherine at the court of Philip II. as a virgin with the heart of a man, victorious over all the weakness, of her sex, and rivalling in her austerities the most famous penitents of the desert. At the Escurial, she observed the same abstinence as in her hermitage; there, as in her cave, she took but one hour's sleep, and gave to prayer the rest of the time at her disposal.

From the Escurial, Catherine returned to Madrid. From the carriage in which she rode, she gave her blessing to the multitudes who crowded the road as she passed. ... The Nuncio, having sent for her, reproached her for wearing the apparel of a man, and for taking it upon her to give her blessing, like a bishop. The humble virgin heard all prostrate on the ground. When the Nuncio had finished speaking, she arose and justified herself with that holy simplicity peculiar to herself. The legate of the Holy See, perceiving then that God was leading the Blessed Catherine by an extraordinary way, left her at liberty to wear that costume, blessed her, and recommended himself to her prayers.

In Madrid Catherine again met Don Juan of Austria, who had been appointed Generalissimo of the Christian fleet directed against the Turks. He gave her the name of mother, and regarded her as a Saint. After having given some wise counsel to the young prince, she predicted to him that he should obtain a victory over the enemies of the Christian name. It was a happy day in the life of Don Juan on which he heard these prophetic words. Kneeling on the ground, with clasped hands and tearful eyes, the future liberator of Christendom asked Catherine's blessing, and arose with a heart strengthened by an invincible hope.

The Carmelites of Toledo, amongst whom she spent some time, endeavoring to persuade her to diminish her austerities a little, she replied in these memorable words, which reveal to us the secret of her life: "When one has seen, as I have, what Purgatory and Hell are, one cannot do too much to draw souls from one, and preserve them from the other; I may not spare myself, since I have offered myself in sacrifice for them."

On the 7th October, 1571, Catherine was warned by a light from above that the great combat against the Turks was to take place that day. She macerated herself with fearful rigor, and offered herself as a victim to the anger of God, justly indignant at the sins of His people. She addressed to the Saviour of men the most tender supplications, when, all at once, seized with a holy transport, she uttered in a distinct voice these words, which were heard by several persons of the Court: "O Lord, the hour is come, help Thy Church; give the victory to the Catholic chiefs; have pity on so many kingdoms which are Thine own, preserve them from ruin! The wind is against us: my God, if Thou order it not to change, we perish!"

Some time after, she cried out in a still stronger voice: "Blessed be Thou, O Lord, Thou hast changed the wind at the needful moment; finish what Thou hast begun!" After these words she prayed in silence for a long space of time. Then, starting up joyfully, she offered to God the most lively thanksgivings for the victory He had just granted to His Church.

Soon, in fact, the news of the victory of Lepanto confirmed the miraculous vision of Catherine. Don Juan wrote immediately to the venerable Catherine of Cardona, thanking her for her prayers, and sent her, as a memento, some spoils taken from the enemy.

Catherine having received, at the Court and elsewhere, sufficient means to found her monastery, regained her solitude in the month of March, 1572. She lived there five years longer. It has been considered as a supernatural thing that mortifications so extraordinary as hers had not ended her life sooner. She died on the 11th of May, 1577.

"One day," says St. Teresa, "after having received communion in the church of this monastery (that which Catherine had founded), I entered into a profound recollection, which was soon followed by an ecstasy. Whilst I was thus ravished out of myself, that holy woman appeared to my intellectual vision, resplendent with light like a glorified body, and surrounded by angels. She said to me: 'Weary not of founding monasteries, but rather pursue that work with ardor.' I understood, albeit that she did not say so, that she was assisting me with God. This apparition left me exceedingly comforted, and inflamed with the desire of working for Our Lord's glory. Hence, I hope from His divine goodness and the powerful prayers of that Saint, that I may be able to do something for His service."

THE EMPEROR NICHOLAS PRAYING FOR HIS MOTHER.

Heretics or Schismatics care very little about contradicting themselves. It is of the nature of the iniquity of lying. The _Anti de la Religion_, of March 1, 1851, judiciously observes:

"It is well known that the Russian Church pretends not to admit the doctrine of Purgatory, which one of its principal prelates set down as '_a crude modern invention._' Nevertheless, the manifesto recently published by the Emperor Nicholas, on the death of his mother, the Grand Duchess Elizabeth, Duchess of Nassau, concludes with these words: 'We are convinced that all our faithful subjects will unite their prayers with ours, _for the repose of the soul_ of the deceased.' How are we to reconcile this request for prayers with the denial of Purgatory, coming as it does from the mouth of the supreme pontiff of the Church of Russia?"--"_Christian Anecdotes._"

FUNERAL ORATION ON PIUS VI.

REV. ARTHUR O'LEARY, O S F.

Thou hast lifted me up, and cast me down. My days are like a shadow; that declineth, and I am withered like grass; but thou, O Lord, shall, endure forever.--Ps. cii., verses 10, 11, 12.

Yes! O my God! You lift up and you cast down; you humble and you exalt the sons of men. You cut off the breath of princes, and are terrible to the kings of the earth. It is then we know your power, when, by the stroke of death, we feel what we are, that our life is but as a shadow that declineth, a vapor dispersed by the beams of the rising sun, or as the grass which loses at noon the verdure it had acquired from the morning dew. It is a truth of which we, are made sensible upon this mournful occasion, and in this sacred temple, where the trophies of death are displayed, and its image reflected on every side. The mournful accents of the solemn dirge, the sable drapery that lines these walls, the vestments of the ministers of the sacred altar, this artificial darkness which is a figure of the darkness of the grave;-- the tapers that blaze around the sanctuary to put us in mind that when our mortal life is extinct, there is an immortal life beyond the grave, in a kingdom of light and bliss reserved for those who walk on earth by the light of the gospel;--that tomb, in which the tiara and the sceptre, the Pontifical dignity, and the power of the temporal prince, are covered over with a funeral shroud,--every object that strikes the eye, and every sound that vibrates on the ear, is an awful memento which reminds us of our approaching dissolution, points out the vanity and nothingness of all earthly grandeur, and convinces, us that in holiness of life, which unites us to God and secures an immortal crown in the enjoyment of the sovereign good, consists the greatness as well as the happiness of man. An awful truth exemplified in many great characters, hurled from the summit of power and grandeur into an abyss of woe, whose unshaken virtue supported them under the severest trials, and whose greatness of soul shone conspicuous in their fall as well as in their elevation. A truth particularly exemplified in His Holiness Pope Pius VI., whose obsequies we are assembled to solemnize on this day--Pius VI. great in prosperity; Pius VI. great in adversity.

When his life is written by an impartial hand, when his contemporaries are dead, when history lays open the hidden and mysterious springs of the events connected with his reign, and posterity erects a tribunal, at which it is to judge, without dread of giving offence, then his virtues and wisdom will appear in their true light, as the symmetry and proportion of those beautiful statues, which are placed in the porticoes or entrance of temples and public edifices, are better discovered, and seen to a greater advantage at a certain distance.

* * * * *

Though His life was spotless, yet as the judgments of God are unsearchable, as there is such a quantity of dross mixed with our purest gold, such chaff with our purest grain, our purest virtues tarnished with so many imperfections, that on appearing in the presence of God, into whose Kingdom the slightest stain is not admitted, who can say, "My soul is pure; I have nothing to answer for?" as in our belief, divine justice may inflict temporary as well as eternal punishments beyond the grave, according to the quality of unexpiated offences, let us perform the sacred rites of our holy religion for the repose of his soul. [1]

[Footnote 1: These extracts are taken from the funeral oration on Pius VI, delivered at St. Patrick's Chapel, Soho, in presence of Monsignore Erskine, Papal Auditor, on the 10th Nov., 1799.]

FROM THE FUNERAL ORATION ON THE REV. ARTHUR. O'LEARY, O.S.F.

REV. MORGAN D'ARCY.

My brethren, as it is God alone, that searcher of hearts, who can truly appreciate the merits of His elect, as it belongs only to the Holy Catholic Church, "_that pillar and ground of truth_," to canonize them, as we know that nothing impure can enter into heaven, and that Moses himself, that great legislator, and peculiar favorite of heaven, was not entirely spotless in the discharge of his ministry, nor exempt from temporal punishment at his death, let us no longer interrupt the awful mysteries and impressive ceremonies of religion, but, uniting, and, as it were, embodying our prayers and fervent supplications, let us offer a holy violence to heaven; while we mingle our tears with the precious blood of the spotless Victim offered in sacrifice on our hallowed altar, let us implore the Father of Mercies, through the merits and passion of His adorable Son, our merciful Redeemer, to purify this His minister, and admit him to a participation of the never-ending joys of the heavenly Jerusalem. May he rest in peace. _Amen_.

DE MORTUIS. OUR DECEASED PRELATES.

[From a Sermon delivered by Most Rev. ARCHBISHOP CORRIGAN, of NEW YORK, at the THIRD PLENARY COUNCIL of BALTIMORE.]

Remember your prelates who have spoken the Word of God to you. Heb. c. xiii. v. 2.

Of the forty-six Fathers who sat in the Second Plenary Council, only sixteen still survive. More than this. During the few years that have since elapsed not only have thirty bishops and archbishops gone to the house of their eternity, but in several instances, their successors, too, have passed away, so that the Solemn Requiem offered this morning for the prelates who have died since the last Council is chanted for forty-two consecrated rulers. For these, "as it is a good and wholesome thought to pray for the dead," we send up our sighs and our prayers in the spirit of fraternal charity, and as a tribute of love and gratitude to our Fathers in the faith who had the burden of the day and the heat, and who now rest from their labors. "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord. From henceforth now, saith the Spirit,... for their works follow them."

In the commemorative services and solemn supplications offered in this cathedral, the first place, dear brethren, is deservedly due to your own lamented archbishops.... Besides these, memory turns, with fond regret, to a long list of Right Reverend Prelates, who were all present at the late Plenary Council, and who have since, one by one, passed away.... As we repeat each well-known name, hosts of pleasant memories come crowding on the mind just as by-gone scenes are awakened to new life by some sweet strain of once familiar music. Venerable forms loom up again before us with the paternal kindness, the distinguished presence, the winning ways we knew so well of old; and while the vision lasts we seem to hear a still small voice saying: "To-day for me, to- morrow for thee," or the echo of the words spoken by the wise woman of Thecua to the king on his throne: "We all die, and fall down into the earth, like waters that return no more."

"Star differeth from star in glory." The bishops, whose virtues we commemorate, differed in gifts of mind, in habits of thought, in nationality, in early training, in personal experience, in almost everything else but their common faith. This golden bond united them to each other and to us. There was still another point of resemblance and another link that bound them all together--the participation in the divine work of the Good Shepherd which was laid upon them all....