principles and tyrannical action on the part of the latter. Even Catholic governments often ignore, in many things, the rights of the Church; and this is, in a true sense, natural; not because it is according to the dictate of natural reason, but because it flows from the corruption of nature, like the rebellion of the passions in individual men. This unfortunate tendency is increased and promoted by false opinions, sometimes innocently, sometimes guiltily, held by Catholics, and still more by those who, while nominally Catholics, are in reality little or nothing better than infidels. From Protestant governments we cannot, of course, expect Catholic principles, though we might expect, even from them, more of consistency and social fairness than we find. Well, then, the action of ecclesiastical laws is obstructed and contravened by kings and cabinets and parliaments. What is the Church to do? What is Rome to do? Is it to sweep away the laws, which are otherwise judged fit for the spiritual government of the Faithful? Surely not. This course would be too prejudicial in itself, and would be, besides, yielding unduly to what all Catholics must consider to be an unjust pressure. Are the laws of the Church to be declared inoperative as to baptized non-Catholics? Are baptized non-Catholics to be explicitly exempted from them? Not certainly as a matter of right: for this would be against principle. Not universally; for this, too, would more or less compromise the principle. How far it is expedient to go in the way of such exemption is a matter for the prudential judgment of the Holy See. But, even where there is not an exemption, is the Church in every instance to insist loudly on the fulfilment of the laws, to protest loudly against their violation? Is she bound in all circumstances to bring out into relief the effects which follow from non-observance, as, for example, the invalidity of certain marriages? Surely the Pope cannot be condemned for having regard to the difficulties in which his spiritual subjects are placed by the perversity of civil rulers, for not increasing those difficulties, and intensifying disagreements and unnecessarily provoking anger and persecution. The good of Religion does not demand indiscriminate open interference in all cases, and fruitless attempts to set everything right. The good of Religion does require that sound doctrine and essential rights should not be compromised, that truths unpleasant to many should be proclaimed and maintained at every cost; and this the Pontiffs do, and assuredly Pius IX. does not shrink from the duty. This fact shows abundantly that what is called policy is not allowed to interfere with the demands of conscience, and the paramount interests of the Faith. When Popes and Bishops fulfil their office thus fearlessly, they and the faithful laity, too, who obey them and echo their voice, are charged with aggression and disloyalty. When, on the other hand, a prudent tolerance is practised, where there is room for it, with a view to avoid additional troubles, it is called policy, in no complimentary sense. After all, Mr. Gladstone ought to know that a wise policy is not a thing to be condemned. I may observe that Mr. Gladstone has played upon a word, and most likely with effect as to many of his readers. The word is dissimulation, "a name," he says, "by which the Court of Rome itself has not been ashamed to describe its own conduct." This is a good hit; but is it a fair one? The term dissimulation, I freely admit, conveys, for the most part, a bad meaning. It implies artful concealment, with a view, either to carry out more securely hostile intentions, or else to obtain from the party that is their object favours or concessions that would not be granted if the designs were known, or with some other sinister purpose. It includes double-dealing, which last word has the merit of not admitting any but a disreputable sense. But dissimulation, or at least dissimulatio, in Latin, which is the official language of Rome, can be taken, and often is taken, for an innocent, and sometimes merciful, concealment or passing over of something which it would be painful to have noticed and acted upon. We have several instances of this signification in the Latin Vulgate, which, where the Pope is concerned, is not a bad standard.* Johnson, in his dictionary, under the word dissimulation, gives the following sentence from "South's Sermons:" "Dissimulation may be taken for a bare concealment of one's mind, in which sense we commonly say that it is prudence to dissemble injuries." The Imperial Dictionary has this remark: "Dissimulation may be simply concealment of the opinions, sentiments, or purpose; but it includes also the assuming of a false or counterfeit appearance which conceals the real opinions or purpose." It is clear that dissimulation may be of a friendly and beneficial character, and that where this is the case, unless the concealment be unlawful for some special reason, there is nothing to be ashamed of. If, for instance, I know a debt is due to me by a man who is either unaware of it or unable to pay it, and I carefully avoid all allusion to the debt, to save the party from pain and trouble, though for good reasons I do not remit the obligation, no one will say that I am committing a guilty act of dissimulation. It would be otherwise if my silence were intended to afford my debtor a false security, and thus ensure me the opportunity of coming down on him at a still more unfavourable time and effecting his ruin. Now, there is not the least doubt that the dissimulation which the Court of Rome attributes to itself is not of that vicious kind so commonly designated by the word. The Pope's dissimulation is not practised for the purpose of circumventing, for the purpose of later taking an unfair advantage. It consists in abstaining from a pressure which might do harm to the parties concerned. This is plain from the nature of the cases which the so-called dissimulation regards. It is rendered, if possible, additionally plain by the fact of its being acknowledged. Surely Mr. Gladstone ought to have more faith in the astuteness of the Roman Court than to imagine it would acknowledge double-dealing. * 1 Kings, x. 27, "Ille vero dissimulabat se audire." Douay version: "But he dissembled as though he heard not; " Authorised (Anglican) version: 1 Sam. I. 27, "But he held his peace." Job, iii. 26, "Nonne dissimulavi? nonne silui? nonne quievi;" Douay version: "Have I not dissembled? have I not kept silence? have I not been quiet?" The Authorised version differs here from the Vulgate. Wisdom, xi. 24, "Sed misereris omnium, quia omnia potes; et dissimulas peccata hominum propter pœnitentiam." "But Thou hast mercy upon all, because Thou canst do all things, and overlookest the sins of men, for the sake of repentance.” MISS ALICE THOMPSON'S "PRELUDES."* OETRY and painting have often been spoken of as sister arts. There is, therefore, something gracefully appropriate in the fact that of the two sisters, Elizabeth and Alice Thompson, the one has made herself famous as a painter, and the other has claimed a place among the poets. Jean Ingelow says that anyone who has ever longed to be a poet may be accounted such; but Miss Thompson's claim to the title will stand a much stricter test than this, and her volume of "Preludes" bears to be judged by a higher standard than the maiden works of many pre-eminent authors. She has constituted herself the poet in our own times of all that is most beautiful in nature and in art-of "the innocence in children's eyes," of "the daybreak winds," the "rainbow showers" and "the patient rain," of "boundless silence" and of "lost melodies." Glad of her knowledge of this "green, warm earth of ours," she exclaims, in the poem, headed "In early Spring:" "O Spring, I know thee! Seek for sweet surprise But I have learnt the years, and know the yet Mine ear, awake to silence, can foretell The cuckoo's fitful bell. I wander in a gray time that encloses June and the wild hedge-roses. A year's procession of the flowers doth pass And all you sweet birds, silent yet, I know Your songs yet half devised in the dim dear In these young days you meditate your part; I know the secrets of the seeds and flowers And how, in kindling Spring, the cuckoo shall Alter his interval. But not a flower or song I ponder is My own, but memory's. I shall be silent in those days desired O dear brown birds, compose your old song-phrases, Earth, thy familiar daisies." But though the poet thus timidly exults in her part-knowledge of Nature, she also deeply feels her infinite ignorance of its manifold "Preludes." By A. C. THOMPSON. With Illustrations and Ornaments by Elizabeth Thompson. London: Henry S. King & Co., 65, Cornhill. [Many of our readers have lately enjoyed in Dublin an opportunity of studying "The Roll Call" at Mr. Cranfield's Gallery. Their interest in these gifted sisters will be increased by the circumstance that they are converts to the Catholic Faith.] mysteries; and the sorrow that attends this consciousness, as well as the balm which may fantastically be applied to heal it, are beautifully depicted in the following verses 66 to a Poet." We omit some. "Thou who singest through the earth, There is something they deny thee. "Pines thy fallen nature ever "Though thou tame a bird to love thee, Secrets in the sun and showers. "Wait, and many a secret nest, Will not fear or shun thee more. "Thou shalt intimately lie In the roots of flowers that thrust When they blossom from thy dust. "Silent labours of the rain Shall be near thee, reconciled; All things shy and wild Tell thee secrets, quiet child. "Nought will fear thee, humbled creature; There will be thy mortal burden Pressed into the heart of Nature, Songless in a garden With a long embrace of pardon." There are thirteen sonnets, properly so called, scattered among Miss Thompson's "Preludes," and of these the following is not the least beautiful : 66 THOUGHTS IN SEPARATION. We never meet: yet we meet day by day Beyond all good I e'er believed of thee My angel falls not short; they greet each other; Miss Thompson displays great skill and care in her choice of metres and in her poetic diction. In the longest of her poems, which she places last-"A Study, in Three Monologues, with Interruptions"-there is a deep, suppressed dramatic feeling. Her blank verse, of which this is the only sample, is richly modulated. We are glad to know that this volume is not likely to be her last, and we shall watch with interest the further development of the poetic faculty which she possesses in so high a degree-the summer fulfilment of her springtide promise. In her verses we recognise a sweet medley of the tones of Shelley, of Coleridge, and of Keats; and if she has created no new kingdom of her own in the great world of poetry, she has at least repeopled an old one with fresh forms and living faces such as it will be the delight of many to look upon. One word of admiration must be added for the dainty embellishments and suggestive illustrations with which the painter of "The Roll Call" has enriched her sister's book of pictures in words, making it indeed, within and without, "a thing of beauty" and "a joy for ever." A REAL "CHILDREN'S PRAYER-BOOK.” THOUGH this very charming and very holy little book [Holy Childhood: a Book of Simple Prayers and Instructions for very Little Children. Dublin: Charles Eason, Middle Abbey-street] has only come into our hands on the eve almost of "Magazine-day," we cannot take upon our conscience the responsibility of keeping its appearance a secret from our little friends for a whole month longer. It is unique in English literature, certainly in English Catholic literature; and we suspect that, even in German, the good Canon Schmid, who ended his long series of children's books with a " Prayer-book for the Young," was not able to write down into the very heart of childhood, entering into all its feelings, and speaking with its very lips, like the Author of "Puck and Blossom," The Little FlowerSeekers," and "Five Little Farmers." We could not refrain from offering this hurried word of welcome to "Holy Childhood" without allowing another month to pass by of this bright season of First Confessions, First Communions, summer-prizes, and seaside holidays, during which this beautiful prayer-book, with its large print and gay binding, its simple prayers, musical hymns, and wise and pleasant little instructions, will be a greater favourite with a great many good little boys and girls than the best of their story-books. 66 "Holy Childhood" bears the Imprimatur of the Cardinal Archbishop of Dublin. |