RELIGION IN OUR STATE INSTITUTIONS.
“No member of this State shall be disfranchised or deprived of any of the rights or privileges secured to any citizens thereof, unless by the law of the land or the judgment of his peers.”
“The free exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without discrimination or preference, shall for ever be allowed in this State to all mankind.”—Constitution of the State of New York, Art. i. Sects. 1 and 3.
The first article of all the old English charters which were embodied in, and confirmed by, the Great Charter wrung from King John, was, “First of all, we wish the church of God to be free.” In the days when those charters were drawn up there was no dispute as to which was “the church of God.” The religious unity of Christendom had not yet been reformed into a thousand contending sects, each of which was a claimant to the title of “the church of God.” The two sections of our own constitution quoted from above, which establish in their fullest sense the civil and religious liberty of the individual, are taken from those grand old charters of Catholic days. The only thing practically new in them is the substitution, for the “church of God,” of “the free exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without discrimination or preference.” The reason for this alteration is plain. Civil liberty is impossible without religious liberty. But here the founders of our constitution were confronted with a great difficulty. To follow out the old Catholic tradition, and grant freedom to the “church of God,” was impossible. There were so many “churches of God,” antagonistic to one another, that to pronounce for one was to pronounce against all others, and so establish a state religion. This they found themselves incompetent to do. Accordingly, leaving the title open, complete freedom of religious profession and worship was proclaimed as being the only thing commensurate with complete civil liberty and that large, generous, yet withal safe freedom of the individual which forms the corner-stone of the republic.
This really constitutes what is commonly described as the absolute separation of church and state, on which we are never weary of congratulating ourselves. It is not that the state ignores the church (or churches), but that it recognizes it in the deepest sense, as a power that has a province of its own, in the direction of human life and thought, where the state may not enter—a province embracing all that is covered by the word religion. This is set apart by the state, voluntarily, not blindly; as a sacred, not as an unknown and unrecognized, ground, which it may invade at any moment. It is set apart for ever, and as long as the American Constitution remains what it is, will so remain, sacred and inviolate. Men are free to believe and worship, not only in conscience, but in person, as pleases them, and no state official may ever say to them, “Worship thus or thus!”
Words would be wasted in dwelling on this point. There is not a member of the state who has not the law, as it were, born in his blood. No man ever dreams of interfering with the worship of another. Catholic church and Jewish tabernacle and Methodist meeting-house nestle together side by side, and their congregations come and go, year in year out, and worship, each in its own way, without a breath of hindrance. Conversion or perversion, as it may be called, on any side is not attempted, save at any particular member’s good-will and pleasure. Each may possibly entertain the pious conviction that his neighbor is going directly to perdition, but he never dreams of disputing that neighbor’s right of way thither. And the thought of a state official or an official of any character coming in and directly or indirectly ordering the Catholics to become Methodists, or the Methodists Jews, or the Jews either, is something so preposterous that the American mind can scarcely entertain it. Yet, strange as it is painful to confess, just such coercion of conscience is carried on safely, daily and hourly, under our very noses, by State or semi-state officials. Ladies and gentlemen to whom the State has entrusted certain of its wards are in the habit of using the powers bestowed on them to restrain “the free exercise of religious profession and worship,” and not simply to restrain it, but to compel numbers of those under their charge to practise a certain form of religious profession and worship which, were they free agents, they would never practise, and against which their conscience must revolt.
This coercion is more or less generally practised in the prisons, hospitals, reformatories, asylums, and such like, erected by the State for such of its members or wards as crime or accident have thrown on its hands. Besides those mainly supported by the State, there are many other institutions which volunteer to take some of its work off the hands of the State, and for which due compensation is given. In short, the majority of our public institutions will come within the scope of our observations. And it may be as well to premise here that our observations are intended chiefly to expose a wrong that we, as Catholics, feel keenly and suffer from; but the arguments advanced will be of a kind that may serve for any who suffer under a similar grievance, and who claim for themselves or their co-religionists “the free exercise of religious profession and worship, without discrimination or preference.” If the violation of this article of the constitution to-day favors one side under our ever-shifting parties and platforms, it may to-morrow favor the other. What we demand is simply that the constitution be strictly maintained, and not violated under any cover whatsoever.
The inmates of our institutions may be divided into two broad classes, the criminal and the unfortunate. From the very fact of their being inmates of the institutions both alike suffer certain deprivation of “the rights and privileges” secured to them as citizens. In the case of criminals those rights and privileges are forfeited. They are deprived of personal liberty, because they are a danger instead of a support to the State and to the commonwealth. The question that meets us here is, does the restriction of personal involve also that of religious liberty and worship?
Happily, there is no need to argue the matter at any length, as it has already been pronounced upon by the State; and as regards the religious discipline in prisons, our objection is as much against a non-application as a misapplication of the law. “The free exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and worship” is never debarred any man by the State. On the contrary, it is not only enjoined, but, where possible, provided. Even the criminal who has fallen under the supreme sentence of the law, and whose very life is forfeit to the State, is in all cases allowed the full and free ministry of the pastor of his church, whatever that church may be. Nothing is allowed to interfere with their communion. Even the ordinary discipline of the prison is broken into in favor of that power to which, from the very first, the State set a region apart. And it is only at the last moment of life that the minister, be he Catholic, Methodist, or Jew, yields to the hangman.
Is it possible to think that the State, which, in the exercise of its last and most painful prerogative, shows itself so wise, just, tender even, and profoundly religious—so true, above all, to the letter and the spirit of the constitution—should, when the question concerns not the taking, but the guarding, of the criminal’s life, and, if possible, its guidance to a better end, show itself cruel, parsimonious, and a petty proselytizer? Does it hold that freedom of religious profession and worship is a privilege to be granted only to that superior grade of criminal whose deeds have fitted him before his time for another world, and not to the lesser criminal or the unfortunate, who is condemned to the burden of life, and who has it still within his power to make that life a good and useful one? Such a question is its own answer. And yet the system of religious discipline at present prevailing in many of our prisons, as in most of our institutions, would seem to indicate that the State exhausts its good-will over murderers, and leaves all other inmates, in matters of religion, to the ministry of men in whom they do not believe and creeds that they reject. A certain form of religious discipline is provided, which is bound to do duty for all the prisoners, Jew and Gentile, Catholic and Protestant alike. If that is not good enough for them, they may not even do without it; for all are bound to attend religious worship, which, in the case of Catholic prisoners at least—for we adhere to our main point—is beyond all doubt the severest coercion of conscience. The worst Catholic in this world would never willingly take part in the worship of any but his own creed. It is idle to ask whether some worship is not better for him than none at all. The fact remains that he does not believe in any other but his own church, in the sacredness of any other ministry but his own, in the efficacy of any means of grace save those that come to him through the church of which he is a member. More than this, he knows that it is a sin not to approach the sacraments and hear Mass, and that, without frequenting them, he cannot hope to lead a really good life. The perversion of discipline prevents him either hearing Mass or frequenting the sacraments, often even from seeing a priest at all.
There is no need to dwell on the fact that of all men in this world, those who are in prison or in confinement stand most in need of constant spiritual aid and consolation. Indeed, in many cases the term of imprisonment would be the most favorable time to work upon their souls. The efficacy of religion in helping to reform criminals is recognized by the State in establishing prison chaplains, and even making attendance at worship compulsory. But this compulsion is not intended so much as an act of coercion of conscience as an opportunity and means of grace. As seen in the case of murderers, the State is only too happy to grant whatever spiritual aid it can to the criminal, without restriction of any kind.
Laying aside, then, as granted, the consideration that spiritual ministry is of a reforming tendency in the case of those who come freely under its influence, we pass on at once to show where in our own State we are lamentably deficient and unjust in failing to supply that ministry.
In this State there are three State prisons: those of Sing Sing, Auburn, and Clinton. In no one of them is there proper provision for the spiritual needs of Catholic prisoners.
There are also in this State seven penitentiaries: Blackwell’s Island, New York; Kings County, Staten Island, Albany, Syracuse, Rochester, and Buffalo. Of these seven, in three only is Mass celebrated and the sacraments administered, viz., Blackwell’s Island, Kings County, and Albany.
The State boasts also of four reformatories: the Catholic Protectory, Westchester County; House of Refuge, New York; Juvenile Asylum, New York; Western House of Refuge, Rochester. Of these, at the first named only is Mass celebrated and the sacraments administered.
This is a very lamentable state of affairs, and one that ought to be remedied as speedily as possible. It is being remedied in many places, for it prevails practically throughout the country. Catholics, unfortunately, add their quota to the criminal list, as to every grade and profession in life. But there is no reason why Catholic criminals alone should be debarred the means which is more likely than the punishment of the law to turn their minds and hearts to good—the sacraments and ministry of their church. But the fault, probably, in the particular case of prisons, consists in the fact that the grievance has not hitherto been fairly set before the authorities in whose hands the remedy lies. The application of the remedy, indeed, is chiefly a question of demand, for it consists in conformity to the constitution.
The Catholic Union of New York has been at pains to collect testimony on this subject, and the testimony is unanimous as to the advisability of allowing Catholic prisoners free access to priests, sacraments, and Mass. In Great Britain, where there really is a state religion, Catholic as well as Protestant chaplains are appointed to the various prisons and reformatories, as also to the army and navy. In answer to an inquiry from the Catholic Union respecting the system on which British reformatories are managed in regard to the religious instruction afforded to their Catholic inmates, the following letter was received:
“Office of Inspector of Reformatory and Industrial Schools, No. 3 Delahay Street, December 7, 1874.
“Sir: In reference to your letter of the 20th ultimo, I beg to forward you a copy of the last report of the Inspector of Reformatory and Industrial Schools.
“You will observe that almost all the schools are denominational; one reformatory (the Northeastern) and one or two industrial schools alone receiving both Protestant and Roman Catholic children.
“In these cases the children of the latter faith are visited at stated times by a priest of their own religion, and allowed to attend service on Sundays in the nearest Catholic chapel.
“The Catholic schools are solely and entirely for Catholics.
“I am, sir, your faithful servant,
“William Costeker.
“Dr. E. B. O’Callaghan.”
In the British provinces on this continent the same system prevails. Equal religious freedom is guaranteed in all reformatories and prisons. In the Province of Quebec, where the French population and Catholic religion predominate, the system is the same. Throughout Europe it is practically the same. Rev. G. C. Wines, D.D., the accredited representative of our government to the International Penitentiary Congress at London, in his report to the President, February 12, 1873, gave most powerful testimony on this point. A few extracts will suffice for our purpose.
In England “every convict prison has its staff of ministers of religion. For the most part, the chaplains are not permitted to have any other occupations than those pertaining to their office, thus being left free to devote their whole time to the improvement of the prisoners.”
In Ireland, in this respect, “the regulations and usages of the convict prisons are substantially the same.”
In France, in the smaller departmental prisons, “some parish priest acts as chaplain.” In the larger, as well as in all central prisons, “the chaplain is a regular officer of the establishment, and wholely devoted to its religious service.” “Liberty of conscience is guaranteed to prisoners of all religions.” If the prisoner, who must declare his faith on entering, is not a Catholic, “he is transferred, whenever it is possible, to a prison designed to receive persons of the same religious faith as himself.”
In Prussia “chaplains are provided for all prisons and for all religions. They hold religious service, give religious lessons, inspect the prison schools,” etc.
In Saxony “the religious wants of the prisoners are equally regarded and cared for, whatever their creed may be.”
In Würtemberg “in all the prisons there are Protestant and Catholic chaplains. For prisoners of the Jewish faith there is similar provision for religious instruction.”
In Baden “chaplains are provided for all prisons and for all religions.”
In Austria, “in the prisons of all kinds, chaplains and religious teachers are provided for prisoners of every sect.”
In Russia “in all the large prisons there are chapels and chaplains. Prisoners of all the different creeds receive the offices of religion from ministers of their own faith, even Jews and Mussulmans.”
In the Netherlands, “in all the central prisons, in all the houses of detention, and in the greater part of the houses of arrest, the office of chaplain and religious services are confided to one of the parish ministers of each religion, who is named by the Minister of Justice.”
In Switzerland “ministers of the reformed and of the Catholic religion act as chaplains in the prisons. The rabbi of the nearest locality is invited to visit such co-religionists as are occasionally found in them.”
Is it not sad, after testimony of this kind, to come back to our own country, and, with the law on the point so plain, to find the practice so wretchedly deficient? In New York State Mass is celebrated in three penitentiaries and one reformatory only, and that solitary reformatory is denominational. It was only last year that a Mass was celebrated for the first time in a Boston prison, and a chaplain appointed to it. In Auburn prison a priest has only recently been allowed to visit the Catholic prisoners, hear confessions, and preach on Sunday afternoons. But the prisoners are compelled to attend the Protestant services also.
In the State prison at Dannemora, Clinton Co., N. Y., where a Catholic chaplain has only of late been appointed, the prisoners hear Mass but once a month.
In the Western House of Refuge, a branch house of an establishment in this city, to which attention will be called presently, it was only after a severe conflict[1] that in December of last year permission was granted “to Catholic and all ministers” of free access to the asylum “to conduct religious exercises, etc.,” and that Catholic children be no longer compelled “to attend what is called ‘non-sectarian’ services.” Such testimony might be multiplied all over the country. Indeed, as far as our present knowledge goes, the State of Minnesota is the only State wherein “liberty of conscience and equal rights in matters of religion to the inmates of State institutions” have been secured, and they were only secured by an act approved March 5, 1874.
Catholics are content to believe that the main difficulty in the way of affording Catholic instruction to the Catholic inmates of such institutions has hitherto rested with themselves. Either they have not sufficiently exposed the grievance they were compelled to endure, or, more likely, such exposure was useless, inasmuch as the paucity of priests prevented any being detailed to the special work of the prisons and public institutions. This, too, is probably the difficulty in the army and navy of the United States, which boast of two Catholic chaplains in all, and those two for the army only. But the growth of our numbers, resources, dioceses, and clergy is rapidly removing any further obstruction on that score; so that there is no further reason why Catholic priests should not be allowed to attend to and—always, of course, at due times—perform the duties of their office for inmates of institutions who, by reason of their confinement, are prevented from the free exercise of their religious profession and worship laid down and guaranteed in the constitution to all mankind for ever.
But over and above the strictly criminal class of inmates of our State institutions there is another, a larger and more important class, to be considered—that already designated as unfortunate. Most of its members, previous to their admission into the institutions provided for their keeping, have hovered on that extreme confine where poverty and crime touch each other. Many of them have just crossed the line into the latter region. Inmates of hospitals and insane asylums will come, without further mention, within the scope of our general observations. Our attention now centres on those inmates of State or public institutions who, for whatever reasons, in consequence either of having no home or inadequate protection at home, are thrown absolutely upon the hands of the State, which is compelled in some way or other to act towards them in loco parentis. In the majority of cases there is hope that they may by proper culture and care be converted, from a threatened danger to the State, to society at large, and to themselves, into honest, creditable, and worthy citizens.
This class, composed of the youth of both sexes, instead of diminishing, seems, with the spread of population, to be on the increase. From its ranks the criminal and pauper classes, which are also on the increase, are mainly recruited. The criminal, in the eye of the law, who has led a good life up to manhood or womanhood, is the exception. Crime, as representative of a class, is a growth, not a sudden aberration. It is, then, a serious and solemn duty of the State to cut off this criminal growth by converting the class who feed it to good at the outset. At the very lowest estimate it is a duty of self-preservation. This being so, there is no need to dwell on the plain fact that it is the duty of the State to do all that in it lies to lead the lives of those unfortunates out of the wrong path into the right. Every means at its disposal ought to be worked to that end. There is still less reason to dwell on the fact, acknowledged and recognized by the State and by all men, that, in leading a life away from evil and up to good, no influence is so powerful as that of religion. The fear of man, of the power and vengeance of the law, is undoubtedly of great force; but it is not all, nor is it the strongest influence that can be brought to bear on the class indicated, not yet criminal. At the best it represents to their minds little more than the whip of the slave-driver—something to be feared, but something also to be hated, and to be defied and broken where defiance may for the time seem safe. But the moral sense, the sense of right and wrong, of good and evil, which shows law in its true guise as the benignant representative of order rather than the terror of disorder, is a higher guide, a truer teacher, and a more humane and lasting power.
This sense can only come with religion; and so convinced is the State of this fact that, as usual, it calls in religion to its aid, and over its penitentiaries and reformatories sets chaplains. It goes further even, and, as in prisons, compels the inmates of such institutions to attend religious services, practise religious observances, and listen to religious instruction. There is no State reformatory—it is safe to say no reformatory at all—without such religious worship and instruction.
This careful provision for the spiritual wants of so extensive and important a class we of course approve to the full. The idea of a reformatory where no religious instruction is given the inmates would be a contradiction. The State empowers those into whose hands it entrusts the keeping of its wards to impart religious instruction—in short, to do everything that may tend to the mental, moral, and physical advancement of those under their charge. All that we concede and admire. But the State never empowers those who have the control of such institutions to draw up laws or rules for them which should in any way contravene the law of the State, least of all that article of the constitution wherein the free exercise of religious profession and worship, without discrimination or preference, is allowed to all mankind in this State for ever. But it is just in this most important point that our public institutions signally fail.
Here is our point: In our public institutions there is, in the case of Catholic inmates, a constant and persistent violation of the constitution of the State regarding freedom of religious profession and worship. In those institutions there is a stereotyped system of religious profession and worship, which all the inmates, of whatever creed, are compelled to accept and observe. They have no freedom of choice in the matter. They may not hold any religious intercourse with the pastors of their church, save, in impossible instances, on that stereotyped plan. Practically, they may not hold any such intercourse at all. Once they become inmates of these institutions, the freedom of religious profession and worship that they enjoyed, or were at liberty to enjoy, before entering, is completely cut off, and a new form of religious profession and practice, which, whether they like it or not, whether they believe it or not, they are compelled to observe and accept as their religion until they leave the institution, is substituted. No matter what name may be given this mode of worship and instruction, whether it be called “non-sectarian” or not, it is a monstrous violation of human conscience, not to speak of the letter and the spirit of the constitution of this State. Its proper name would be the “Church Established in Public Institutions.” From the day when a Catholic child crosses the threshold of such an institution until he leaves it, in most cases he is not allowed even to see a Catholic clergyman; he is certainly not allowed to practise his religion; he is not allowed to read Catholic books of instruction; he is not allowed to hear Mass or frequent the sacraments. For him his religion is choked up and dammed off utterly, and his soul left dry and barren. Nor does the wrong rest even here; for all the while he is exposed to non-Catholic influences and to a direct system of anti-Catholic instruction and worship. He is compelled to bow to and believe in the “Church Established” in the institution.
There is, unfortunately, a superabundance of evidence to prove all, and more than all, our assertions. There will be occasion to use it; but just now we content ourselves with such as is open to any citizen of the State, and as is given in the Reports of the various institutions. Of these we select one—the oldest in the State—the Society for the Reformation of Juvenile Delinquents, which has this year published its fiftieth Annual Report. Within these fifty years of its life 15,791 children, of ages ranging from five to sixteen, of both sexes, of native and foreign parentage, of every complexion of color and creed, have passed through its hands. The society has, on more than one occasion, come before the public, more especially within the last two or three years, in anything but an enviable light. But all considerations of that kind may pass for the present, our main inquiry being, What kind of religion, of religious discipline, instruction, and worship, is provided for the hundreds of children who year by year enter this asylum?
The “Circular to Parents and Guardians,” signed by the president, Mr. Edgar Ketchum, sets forth the objects of the institution and the manner in which it is conducted. “For your information,” says Mr. Ketchum to the parents and guardians, “the managers deem it proper to state that the institution is not a place of punishment nor a prison, but a reform school, where the inmates receive such instruction and training as are best adapted to form and perpetuate a virtuous character.” An excellent introduction! Nothing could be better calculated to allay any scruples that an anxious parent or guardian might entertain respecting the absolute surrender of a child or ward to the institution, “to remain during minority, or until discharged by the managers, as by due process of law.” Of course the Catholic parent or guardian who receives such a circular will have no question as to the “instruction and training best adapted to form and (above all) to perpetuate a virtuous character”! The training up of “a virtuous character” is, by all concession, mainly a purely religious work, and the Catholic knows, believes in, and recognizes only one true religion—that taught by the Catholic Church. Whether he is right or wrong in that belief is not the question. It is sufficient to know that the constitution recognizes and respects it.
A few lines lower the Catholic parent or guardian receives still more satisfactory information on this crucial point. After a glowing description of the life of the inmates, he is informed that they, “on the Sabbath, are furnished with suitable religious and moral instruction.” Just what is wanted by the child! “Sabbath,” it is true, has come to have a Protestant sound; but as for “suitable religious and moral instruction,” there can be no doubt that the only religious instruction suitable for a Catholic child is that of the Catholic religion, and such as would be given him outside in the Sunday-school by the Catholic priest or teacher. He is just as much a Catholic inside that institution as he was outside; and there is no more right in law or logic to force upon him a system of non-Catholic and anti-Catholic instruction within than without its walls. Let us see, then, of what this moral and religious instruction consists; if Catholic, all our difficulties are over.
Turning a few pages, we come to the “Report of the Chaplain.” The chaplain! The chaplain, then, is the gentleman charged with furnishing “on the Sabbath” the “suitable religious and moral instruction” of the Catholic child. The chaplain is the Rev. George H. Smyth, evidently a clergyman of some denomination. His name is not to be found in the Catholic directory. He is probably, then, not a Catholic priest. However, his report may enlighten us.
It occupies five and a half pages, and renders an admirable account of—the Rev. George H. Smyth, who, to judge of him by his own report, must be an exceedingly engaging person, and above all a powerful preacher. No doubt he is. He informs us that the children have shown, among other good qualities, “an earnest desire to receive instruction, both secular and religious.” That is cheering news. It is worthy of note, too, the distinction made between the secular and religious instruction of the children. That is just the Catholic ground. Children require both kinds of instruction—instruction in their religion, as well as in reading, writing, ciphering, and so on. The Catholic parent or guardian congratulates himself, then, on the fact that his child or ward will not be deprived of instruction in his religion while an inmate of the institution. All satisfactory so far; but let us read Mr. Smyth a little more.
“Often have the chaplain’s counsel and sympathy been sought by those striving to lead a better life.” Very natural! “And as often have they been cordially tendered.” Still more natural. Then follow some pleasing reminiscences from the boys and girls of the chaplain’s good offices. He even vouchsafes, almost unnecessarily, to inform us that “the children have it impressed on them that the object of the preaching they hear is wholly to benefit them.” It could not well be otherwise. And Mr. Smyth’s preaching evidently does benefit them, for one of the boys remarked to him, casually: “Chaplain, you remember that sermon you preached”—neither the sermon nor its text, unfortunately, is given—“that was the sermon that led me to the Saviour.” Happy lad! It is to be regretted that he ever came back. We are farther informed of “the close attention given by the children to the preaching of the Gospel Sabbath after Sabbath.” “On one occasion a distinguished military gentleman and statesman—an ambassador from one of the leading courts of Europe—was present. The sermon was from the text Cleanse thou me from secret faults.” So powerful was Mr. Smyth’s sermon on that occasion that the reverend gentleman graciously informs us it so moved the “distinguished military gentleman and statesman” from Europe that at the close he rose, and, “taking the chaplain by the hand, said with great warmth of feeling, ‘That sermon was so well suited to these children they must be better for it. I saw it made a deep impression upon them; but I rose to thank you for myself—it just suited me.’”
And there the story ends, leaving us in a painful state of conjecture respecting the state of that “distinguished military gentleman and statesman’s” conscience. These little incidents are thrown off with a naïve simplicity almost touching, and are noticed here as they are given, as establishing beyond all doubt the clear and marked distinction in nature and grace between the Rev. Mr. Smyth and the dreadful characters, whether ambassadors or youthful pickpockets, with whom Mr. Smyth is brought in contact. But the main question for the Catholic parent or guardian is, What religious and moral instruction is my child to receive? For it is clear that Mr. Smyth is not a Catholic clergyman. It seems that Mr. Smyth being “the chaplain,” there is no Catholic chaplain at all, and no Catholic instruction at all for Catholic children. Are the Catholic children compelled, then, to attend Mr. Smyth’s preaching and Mr. Smyth’s worship, and nothing but Mr. Smyth, excellent man though he be? Mr. Ketchum has already, in the name of the managers, informed us that the institution is not “a place of punishment.” Far be it from us to hint, however remotely, that it is a punishment even to be compelled to listen to the preaching of such a man as Mr. Smyth. With the evidence before us, how could such a thought be entertained for a moment? But at least how is this state of things reconcilable with that solemn article of the constitution already quoted so often?
However, let us first dismiss Mr. Smyth, after ascertaining, if possible, what it is he does teach. Here we have it in his own words: “The truths preached to these children [all the inmates of the institution] have been those fundamental truths held in common by all Christian communions, and which are adapted to the wants of the human race, and must ever be the foundation of pure morals and good citizenship. Studious care has been taken not to prejudice the minds of the inmates against any particular form of religious belief.”
Here lies the essence of what we have called the “Church Established in Public Institutions.” The favorite term for it is “non-sectarian” teaching; and on the ground that it is “non-sectarian,” that it favors no particular church or creed, but is equally available to all, it has thus far been upheld and maintained in our public institutions. It is well to expose the cant and humbug of this non-sectarianism once for all.
In the first place, no such thing exists. Let us adhere to the case in point. Mr. Smyth, who is styled “reverend,” is the chaplain of the society we are examining. What is the meaning of the word chaplain? A clergyman appointed to perform certain clerical duties. Mr. Smyth is a clergyman of some denomination or other, we care not what. He is not a self-appointed “reverend.” He must have been brought up in some denomination and educated in some theological school. There is no such thing as a “reverend” of no church, of a non-sectarian church. Every clergyman has been educated in some theological school, or at least according to some special form of doctrine and belief, and has entered the ministry as a teacher and preacher of that special form of belief and doctrine. If he leaves it, he leaves it either for infidelity—in which case he renounces his title as a clergyman—or for some other form of doctrine and belief to which he turns, and of which, so long as he remains in the ministry, he is the teacher, propagator, and upholder. If he is not this, he is a humbug. To say that he is or can be non-sectarian—that is, pledged to preach no particular form of doctrine, or a form of doctrine equally available for all kinds of believers or non-believers—is to talk the sheerest nonsense. In all cases a clergyman is, by virtue of his office and profession and belief, pledged to some form of doctrine and faith, which unless he teaches, he is either a coward or a humbug. Anything resembling a “non-sectarian” clergyman would be exactly like a soldier who bound himself by oath to a certain government, yet held himself free not to defend that government, or, when he saw it attacked, to be particularly careful not to do anything that might possibly offend or oppose the foe. The world and his own government would stamp such a man as the vilest of beings—a traitor. The union of such diametrically opposite professions is a sheer impossibility.
Let us test the doctrine Mr. Smyth himself lays down here, or which the managers of the institution have laid down for him, and show how sectarianism, which is the one thing to be avoided, or, to use a kinder term, denominationalism, must inevitably meet the teacher or preacher at every turn. “The truths preached to these children have been those fundamental truths held in common by all Christian communions.” Mr. Smyth has told us already that “the chaplain’s counsel and sympathy are sought by those striving to lead a better life, and with good results.” There must, then, be questioning on the part of the children. Indeed, how could instruction possibly go on without question, explanation, objection, and answer? Let us begin, then, with the very foundation of his doctrine. The first question that would occur to any one would be, What are “those fundamental truths held in common by all Christian communions”? Mr. Smyth does not mention one. Where shall we find one? A fundamental truth held in common by all Christian communions might at least be supposed to be a belief in Christ. Very well. Then who is Christ? Where is Christ? Is Christ God or man, or both? How do we come to know him? Is Christ not God, is he not man? What is his history? Where is it found? In the Bible? What is the Bible? Who wrote the Bible? Why must we accept it as the Word of God? Is it the Word of God? Why “all Christian communions” are at war right on this “fundamental truth,” from which they derive their very name of Christian, and not a single question can be put or answered without introducing denominationalism of some kind or another, and so at least prejudicing the minds of the inmates against some particular form of religious belief.
Take another supposition. Surely, belief in God would be “a fundamental truth held in common by all Christian communions.” Here we begin again. Who is God? What is God? Where is God? Is God a spirit? Is God a trinity or a unity? Is there only one God? Do all men believe in and worship the same God? All at sea again at the very mention of God’s name!
Take the belief in a future. Does man end here? Does he live again after death? Will the future be happy or miserable? Is there a hell or a heaven? Is there an everlasting life? What is Mr. Smyth’s own opinion on such “fundamental truth”? There is not a single “fundamental truth” “held in common by all Christian communions.” What is truth itself? What is a fundamental truth? Fundamental to what? Why, there is not a single religious subject of any kind whatever that can be mentioned to “Christian communions” of a mixed character which will not on the instant create as many contentions as there are members of various Christian communions present. Let Mr. Smyth try it outside, and see. Let him preach on “fundamental truth” to any mixed congregation in New York; let there be free discussion after, and what would be the result? It is hard to say. But in all probability the discussion would end by the State, in the persons of its representatives, stepping in to eject the fundamental truths from the building.
One need not go beyond this to show how necessarily sectarian must Mr. Smyth’s religious instruction and preaching be. But the very next sentence bristles with direct antagonism to Catholic teaching: “What delinquent children need is not the mere memorizing of ecclesiastical formularies and dogmas, which they can repeat one moment and commit a theft the next.” In plain English, Catholic children do not need to learn their catechism, which is the compendium of Christian doctrine. What is the use of learning it, asks Mr. Smyth, when they can “commit a theft the next moment”? He had better go higher, and ask Christian members of Congress how they can address such pious homilies to interesting Young Men’s Christian Associations, while they know they have been guilty of stealing. He might even ask the Rev. George H. Smyth how he could reconcile it with his conscience to take an oath or make a solemn promise on entering the ministry to preach a certain form of doctrine, and profess to throw that oath and promise to the winds immediately on being offered a salary to teach something quite different on Randall’s Island. “But they do need, and it is the province of the State to teach them that there are, independent of any and all forms of religious faith, fundamental principles of eternal right, truth, and justice, which, as members of the human family and citizens of the commonwealth, they must learn to live by, and which are absolutely essential to their peace and prosperity. These principles are inseparable from a sound education, and must underlie any and every system of religion that is not a sham and a delusion.”
That sounds very fine, and it is almost painful to be compelled to spoil its effect. One cannot help wondering in what theological school Mr. Smyth studied. He will insist on his “fundamental principles,” which, in the preceding paragraph, are “common to all Christian communions,” but have now become “independent of any and all forms of religious faith.” Is there any “fundamental principle of eternal right, truth, and justice” which, to “members of the human family,” is “independent of any and all forms of religious faith”? Is there anything breathing of eternity at all that comes not to us in and through “religious faith”? If there be such “fundamental principles of eternal right, truth, and justice,” in God’s name let us know them; for they are religion, and we are ready to throw “any and all forms of religious faith” that contradict those eternal principles to the winds. This we know: that there is not a single “principle of eternal right, truth, and justice” which, according to Mr. Smyth, “it is the province of the State to teach delinquent children,” that did not come to the State through some form or another of religious faith; for in the history of this world religion has always preceded and, in its “fundamental principles of eternal right, truth, and justice,” instructed and informed the state. The Rev. George H. Smyth is either an infidel or he does not know of what he is writing.
What kind of “moral and religious instruction” is likely to be imparted to all children, and to Catholic children of all, by the Rev. George H. Smyth, may be judged from the foregoing. Whether or not his teaching can approve itself to a Catholic conscience may be left to the judgment of all fair-minded men. His report is only quoted further to show how completely subject the consciences of all these children are to him:
“The regular preaching service each Sabbath morning in the chapel has been conducted by the chaplain, one or more of the managers usually being present; also, the Wednesday lecture for the officers. In the supervision of the Sabbath-schools in the afternoon he has been greatly aided by managers Ketchum and Herder, whose valuable services have been gratefully appreciated by the teachers and improved (sic) by the inmates.
“The course of religious instruction laid down in the by-laws and pursued in the house for fifty years has been closely adhered to.” That is to say, for fifty years not a syllable of Catholic instruction has been imparted to the Catholic inmates of the House of Refuge. The number of those Catholic inmates will presently appear.
Among the gentlemen to whom the chaplain records his “obligations” for their gratuitous services in the way of lectures are found the names of nine Protestant clergymen and two Protestant laymen. No mention of a Catholic. The Sabbath-school of the Reformed Church, Harlem, is thanked for “a handsome supply” of the Illustrated Christian Weekly. The librarian reports that one hundred copies of the Youth’s Companion are supplied weekly, one hundred copies of the American Messenger, and one hundred and twenty-five copies of the Child’s Paper. There is no mention of a Catholic print of any kind. The chaplain and librarian are under no obligations for copies of the Young Catholic, or the New York Tablet, or the Catholic Review, or any one of our many Catholic journals. They are all forbidden. Yet they are not a whit more “sectarian” than the Christian Weekly. In addition, the Bible Society is thanked “for a supply of Bibles sufficient to give each child a copy on his discharge.”
We turn now to the report of the principal of schools. It is chiefly an anti-Catholic tirade on the public school question, but that point may pass for the present. What we are concerned with here is the species of instruction to which the Catholic children of the institution are subjected. Mr. G. H. Hallock, the principal, is almost “unco guid.” A single passage will suffice. “But underneath all this intellectual awakening there is a grander work to be performed; there is a moral regeneration that can be achieved. Shall we stand upon the environs of this moral degradation among our boys, and shrink from the duty we owe them, because they are hardened in sin and apparently given over to evil influences? Would He who came to save the ‘lost’ have done this?
“Nothing can supply the place of earnest, faithful religious teaching drawn from the Word of God. I have the most profound convictions of the inefficacy of all measures of reformation, except such as are based on the Gospel and pervaded by its spirit. In vain are all devices, if the heart and conscience, beyond all power of external restraints, are left untouched.”
It were easy to go on quoting from Mr. Hallock, but this is more than enough for our purpose. Catholics too believe in the efficacy of the Word of God, but in a different manner, and to a great extent in a different “Word” from that of Mr. Hallock. It is plain that this man is imbued with the spirit of a missionary rather than of a principal of schools, though how Catholic sinners would fare at his hands may be judged from the tone of his impassioned harangue. The missionary spirit is an excellent spirit, and we have no quarrel with Mr. Hallock or with his burning desire to save lost souls; we only venture to intimate that Mr. Hallock is even less the kind of teacher than Mr. Smyth is the kind of preacher to whom we should entrust the spiritual education of our Catholic children. By the bye, this excellent Mr. Hallock’s name occurred during the trial of Justus Dunn for the killing of Calvert, one of the keepers of this very institution, in 1872. One of the witnesses in that eventful trial, a free laborer in the house, testified on oath concerning the punishment of a certain boy there:
“Q. What was the boy punished for?
“A. For not completing his task and not doing it well. He was reported for this to the assistant-superintendent, Mr. Hallock. He (Mr. Hallock) carried him down to the office by his collar, and there punished him for about fifteen minutes with his cane, so that the blood ran down the boy’s back; then the assistant-superintendent brought him back into the shop to his place, and there struck him on the side of the head, telling him that if he did not do his work right, he would give him more yet. Then the boy cried out, ‘For God’s sake! I am not able to do it.’ So he took him by his neck, and carried him to the office, where he caned him again. After that he brought the boy back to his place in the shop, and treated him then as he did on the other occasion. The boy could not speak a word after that. Then the assistant carried him down to the office, and caned him for the third time. After this caning the boy could not come upstairs, so they took him to the hospital, where he died in about four days. After his death a correspondent wrote a letter to the New York Tribune, stating the facts, and asking for an investigation, which took place. The punishment of Mr. Hallock was his deposition from his office as assistant superintendent, and installation as teacher of the school. The eye-witnesses of the occurrence were not examined, but the whole matter was settled in the office of the institution.”
This en passant. It is pleasing, after having read it, to be able to testify to Mr. Hallock’s excellent sentiments, as shown in the extract already given from his report, which concludes in this touching fashion: “We are left to labor in the vineyard amid scenes sometimes discouraging, severe, and depressing even. But, amid all, the sincere and earnest worker may hear the voice of the Great Teacher uttering words of comfort and consolation: Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Those words of consolation may be read in more senses than one.
In keeping with all this is the report of the president, Mr. Edgar Ketchum. He also has the Catholics in his eye. He is strong on the moral training of the children and “the mild discipline of the house,” of which the public knows sufficient to warrant our letting Mr. Ketchum’s ironical expression pass without comment. He is “far from discouraging any effort to extend Christian sympathy and aid to a class who so deeply need them.” He believes that “religion, in her benign offices, will here and there be found to touch some chord of the soul, and make it vibrate for ever with the power of a new life.” What religion and what offices? He is of opinion that “the interests of society and the criminal concur; and if his crimes have banished him from all that makes life desirable, they need not carry with them also a sentence of exclusion from whatever a wise Christian philanthropy can do in his behalf.”
We quite agree with Mr. Ketchum. Christian philanthropy, as far as it extends in this world, with the solitary exception of this country, has, as already seen, by unanimous action, annulled, if ever it existed, that “sentence of exclusion” which shut off the criminal, or the one whom Mr. Ketchum designates as “the victim of society,” from the free profession and practice of his religion, whether he were Catholic, Protestant, Jew, or Mahometan. That same “Christian philanthropy,” as Mr. Ketchum is pleased to call it, never peddled over by-laws, or rules, or regulations, or “difficulties” whose plain purpose was to hinder Catholic children, confined as are those in the house of which he is president, from seeing their priest, hearing their Mass, going to confession, frequenting the sacraments, and learning their catechism. The same wise Christian philanthropy framed that section of the constitution, binding alike on Mr. Ketchum and his charges, that was precisely framed to prevent the “sentence of exclusion” which Mr. Ketchum so justly and with such eloquence denounces. Christian philanthropy can do no work more worthy of itself than allowing these unfortunate children, foremost and above all things, the practice of that form of Christianity which, were they free agents, they would undoubtedly follow; nor could it do anything less worthy of itself than force upon them a system of worship and religious training which their hearts abhor and their consciences reject. It could not devise a more heinous offence against God and man, or a more hateful tyranny, than that very “sentence of exclusion” which, under the “mild discipline of the house,” prevails in the society of which Mr. Ketchum is president.
There is nothing left now but to turn to the superintendent’s report, in order to ascertain the number of Catholic children who, for the last fifty years, have suffered this “sentence of exclusion” from their faith, its duties, and its practices. We are only enabled to form a proximate idea of their number, but sufficiently accurate to serve our purpose. The superintendent’s figures are as follows:
| Total number of children committed in fifty years, | 15,791 |
Of these, 12,545 were boys and 3,246 girls. The statistics for the first four decades are more accurate than for the last, and show the relative percentage of the children of native and foreign parents, as follows:
| 1st Decade: | ||
| Native, | 44 | per cent. |
| Foreign, | 56 | ” |
| 2d Decade: | ||
| Native, | 34½ | ” |
| Foreign, | 65½ | ” |
| 3d Decade: | ||
| Native, | 22 | ” |
| Foreign, | 78 | ” |
| 4th Decade: | ||
| Native, | 14 | ” |
| Foreign, | 86 | ” |
| 5th Decade: | ||
| Native, | 13⁶/₁₀ | ” |
| Foreign, | 86⁴/₁₀ | ” |
It will be seen from this that the percentage of the entire number is enormously in favor of the children born of foreign parents. This is only natural from a variety of reasons, chief among which is that the foreign-born population, including their children in the first degree, has, within the last half-century, been vastly in excess of the native, in this city particularly. Full statistics of the various nationalities of the children are only given for the last year (1874). Of the 636 new inmates received during the year, a little more than half the number (334) were of Irish parentage; 8 were French; 3 Italian; 1 Cuban. All of these may be safely set down as Catholics. There were 88 of German birth, of whom one-third, following the relative statistics of their nation, might be assumed as of the Catholic faith. The remainder, whom we are willing to set down in bulk as non-Catholic, were divided as to nationality as follows:
| American, | 96 |
| African, | 35 |
| English, | 26 |
| Jewish, | 3 |
| Scotch, | 6 |
| Bohemian, | 1 |
| Welsh, | 1 |
| Mixed, | 34 |
At all events, figure as we may, it may be taken as indisputable that more than one-half the children committed during the past year to the House of Refuge were of Catholic parents. Their average age, according to the statistics, was thirteen years and eight months. Consequently, the children were quite of an age to be capable of distinguishing between creed and creed, and six years beyond the average age set down by the Catholic Church as a proper time to begin to frequent the sacraments of Confession and Communion, to prepare for Confirmation, and to hear Mass on all Sundays and holydays of obligation, under pain of mortal sin. From the moment of their entering the institution the “wise Christian philanthropy” of which Mr. Edgar Ketchum is so eloquent an exponent has pronounced against them a dread “sentence of exclusion” from all these practices of faith and means of grace, as well as from instruction of any kind whatever in their religion. And not only has this been the case, but they have been subjected to the constant instruction of such men as Mr. Smyth and Mr. Hallock. Multiply these children throughout the last fifty years, as far as the relative percentage given will allow us to form an opinion of their creeds, and the picture that presents itself of these poor little Catholics is one that rends the heart. In the present article we are only presenting the general features of the case, basing our argument for the admission of a Catholic chaplain to this and all similar institutions from which a Catholic chaplain is excluded, on the law of the land, on the letter and spirit of the constitution, which we Catholics love, revere, and obey. We simply set the case in its barest aspect before our fellow-citizens, of whatever creed, and ask for our children what they would claim for their children—the right of instruction in the religion in which they were born; the right of the free practice and profession of the religion in which they believe; the right to repel all coercion, in whatever form, of conscience, whether such coercion be called sectarian or non-sectarian. In a word, we ask now, as at the beginning, what we ask for all, and what Catholics, where they have the power, as already seen, freely and without compulsion, or request even, grant to all—that great privilege and right which the constitution of this State guarantees to all mankind: “the free exercise and enjoyment of religious profession and worship, without discrimination or preference.”