NEW PUBLICATIONS.
MEMOIR AND SERMONS OF THE REV. FRANCIS A. BAKER, Priest of the Congregation of St. Paul. Edited by the Rev. A. F. Hewit. Crown octavo, 504 pp. New York: Lawrence Kehoe.
Now and then, in our way through this world, we encounter persons of a peculiar character, so placidly gentle in their manners, so unworldly in all their ways, that they do not seem fairly to belong to this world at all. Not that they are melancholy, reserved, and unsocial. On the contrary, they play their own part in society thoroughly and well; so well, indeed, so thoroughly do they harmonize in every circle where they may be thrown, so little they display of that roughness and rudeness, that froward importunity, that obstinate self-will, self-conceit, and self-devotion which are so common among us, although we acknowledge them as blemishes upon our nature—in fine, so much more perfectly do they wear the garment of humanity than we ourselves, and so easily, that they seem like better creatures from a better world, mingling among us like good angels sent hither to exhibit before our eyes the perfect type of a true manhood. Of course, all men have their temptations and imperfections, but the ordinary life of some rare men is such as we have described; so they appear before the world, and so they live in the memories of their friends. So will Father Baker long live in many memories. That joyous face, that sweet smile, that gentle voice, that soft step, have passed away. One may visit the Paulists still in their convent, and a thousand attractions lead us there, but we shall miss Father Baker. So quietly, so easily, so naturally he dropped into his place—and everyplace was his that charity, and courtesy, and Christian zeal found open—no one could appreciate how much he did, what large areas he occupied on this scene of life, until he was taken away. Who will now make up the loss to his brethren? Who will take his place in the missions? Who will comfort and sustain that long line of penitents? Who will guide the feet of those converts? Who will supply in the churches that silver voice, now soft as the flute, now thrilling like the trumpet, that roused us and warned us, that pierced our hearts betimes as with a sword, and yet so kindly that we would not wish to escape unwounded? Our sorrow for such a loss can find no refuge but in resignation. "The Lord gave, And the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord."
In this volume of memoirs F. Hewit has undertaken a far greater task than merely to respond to the fond recollection of friends, or to pay a tribute to the memory of a good priest. He has made a most valuable contribution to the Catholic literature of this country. One of the most pregnant periods in the history of our American Church is that during which Father Baker was either a student or a Protestant preacher. That aspiration toward Catholicism called Puseyism (although, in truth, Dr. Pusey was not its chief ruling and guiding spirit) which swelled in the hearts of so many members of the Church of England, so called, who struggled for a reformation, or restoration, until their great water-logged craft, timbered, and tinkered, and coppered by so many sovereigns and parliaments, shook and trembled in every joint, and which finally burst forth in a flood of conversions to the Catholic Church—that memorable movement gave birth to a parallel agitation here, and with the same results. In no part of the country perhaps, New York excepted, was the storm greater than in the diocese of Baltimore, where Father Baker and his biographer then resided. In these memoirs we see graphically portrayed the rising, the swelling, and the various fluctuations of that storm. All this belongs to Catholic history, and Catholics ought to know it. Episcopalians are glad to forget those days, and no writer of theirs will dare to recall the stirring scenes which displayed their own religion in its poverty and helplessness, and drove so many gallant but tempest-weary souls into the haven of the true Church. Those, however, who like Father Hewit participated in this revival of true faith, and had the courage to follow the truth which it [{567}] unfolded, have no reason to be ashamed of the history, and he gives it in life-like colors. This part of his task is charmingly done. We have here descriptions of Baltimore and its churches, both Anglican and Catholic; early rambles of the author with Father Baker through the city, when a secret impulse led them so often to visit the Catholic sanctuaries, especially that quiet little Sulpician church of St. Mary's—sweet and holy spot it is indeed; the amusing efforts of the Protestant bishop and his disciples to ape Catholicism, at least in its exterior dress, with their long cassocks, crosses, their profound bows before naked altars draped in broadcloth or velvet, like drawing-room tables; the very natural wrath of the Low-Churchmen—all this is placed before us very naturally, and with a life-like simplicity. Our biographer has had, moreover, the good judgment to recognize what great questions are involved in the life of a convert such as Father Baker, and he takes them up directly and boldly. The pretensions of Anglicanism to be a branch of the universal Church, and a representative to the world of Catholicism, are exposed with a straightforward, nervous logic which leaves poor donkey little room to sport the lion's skin.
Perhaps the most interesting portion of these valuable memoirs is that which contains a series of letters, written by Father Baker to an intimate friend, during the last ten years before his conversion. There are chasms in this correspondence, but they are well filled up by the explanations of his biographer. We have here a glimpse of his inner life, and a chart is given us, imperfect, of course, but deeply interesting, of that pathway by which he was led to the Church. It commences with the pleasing delusions of a young Puseyite who looked upon his own insulated communion as the great Church Catholic, and his little table within the chancel as an altar of sacrifice, and his cross, and candlesticks, and other clandestine playthings, as legitimate heirlooms of Anglican devotion. Thus he writes: "Your brother told me of his intended repairs in his church. I am delighted to hear it. It will not be long, I hope, before such is the universal arrangement of our churches. Only one thing will be lacking (if he has a cross), the candlesticks. I have come to the conclusion that we have a perfect right to them, for they will come in by the Church common-law, as the surplice did" (p. 71). By-and-bye comes a change. "The workings of a mind and heart struggling with doubt and disquietude, weary of a hollow and unreal system, weaned from all worldly hopes, detaching itself from all earthly ties, and striving after truth and after God, become more and more manifest, until at last, after seven long years, the result is reached." The result is announced in the following brief and startling communication to his friend:
BALTIMORE, April 5, 1858.
MY DEAR DWIGHT:
The decision is made. I have resigned my parish, and am about to place myself under instruction preparatory to my being received into the Catholic Church. I can write no more at present. May God help you. "Your affectionate friend,
"FRANCIS A. BAKER."
Three years after this, namely, in the summer of 1856, commenced Father Baker's career as a Catholic priest and missionary, which continued until his death. During this time his active life was bound up with that of his associates, first in the Redemptorist order, and then in the new congregation of St. Paul, formed by himself and his fellow-missionaries. His biographer, therefore, furnishes us a description of those protracted spiritual exercises called "Missions," with a brief history of their introduction into this country. Then follows an account of those missions in which Father Baker took part, or rather it is a portfolio of pictures in which the more serious labors of the mission are shadowed in the perspective, while gay groups of various kinds and colors are made to figure in the foreground. Father Hewit has given himself a great latitude, accommodating himself to the literary tastes of our day, and his readers will certainly thank him for it. When these missionary campaigns were actually going on, it was hard toil all the year round, and little play; but in retracing their course with us our author avoids the dry details, which would involve much repetition, and recalls in preference the sunshiny hours of relaxation, and the pleasing incidents which befel them on their way and relieved their labors. Turning away, therefore, boldly from the regular highway of biography, we are conducted hither and [{568}] thither in a professional ramble around the United States. "Follow my leader" is the word, and down the lanes we go, and over the fences, and into the green fields. Now we find ourselves in Savannah, chatting with the old negro preacher as he sits "in the sun, on a little stool, holding his cow by a rope around her horns, while she nibbles the grass that grows along the streets." Now we are gazing on the gentleman hermit of Edgefield, in rags, and bare-footed, fasting on bread and water, and reading the "Fathers of the Desert," "Brownson's Review," and other ascetical books good for hermits. Now, again, we mingle with a motley company on a coasting steamer, while the philosopher and the spiritualist are discussing the question, "Can God annihilate space?" The next moment we are at St. Augustine, in the casemates of the old fort or castle of St. Marco, and take a look at the narrow loop-hole through which, after a course of rigid fasting, the Seminole chief Wild Cat was enabled to escape to his home in the everglades. Presently we follow Father Baker and his comrades to Charleston, where, then, "all was peace, Sumter solitary and silent, untenanted by a single soldier." Soon, again, we are in New York, then in New Jersey, then among the coal mines of Pennsylvania, and then (seriously and not profanely be it said) we go to Halifax. Kalamazoo, Covington, Quebec, St. Louis, are visited in their turn, and a host of other places huddled together in that small area to which these wandering apostles restrict their labors. We like this seven-year trip with Father Baker and the Paulists, and we like the free, off-hand, and original way in which F. Hewit curries us through it, with all his digressions. These digressions may be sins against the rules of biographical composition, but if so they are "capital" ones.
The last fifteen pages of the memoirs contain the story of Father Baker's sickness and death; a sad story, indeed, but sadly sweet to those who knew him well. Their eyes will be watered with tears as they read it, but happy tears, such drops as form the rainbow when the sun smiles on the summer shower. There was a light from heaven on the death-bed of Father Baker that is stronger than our grief.
The volume contains twenty-nine sermons of Father Baker, chiefly parochial discourses, with a few others selected from those he was accustomed to preach on the missions. It is unnecessary for us to make any comment on these. His eloquence and his style are well known. He was a model preacher, as well as a model Christian and a model priest. The art of sacred eloquence is little understood among us, and therefore we hail this contribution to it with enthusiasm. It will show the young pulpit orator how the Word of God will admit of legitimate ornament, which is neither derived from the theatre, the lecture-room, nor the political rostrum. We never listened to a preacher of whom it can be more appropriately said: "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, and that preacheth salvation."
This work is well printed on super-fine paper and handsomely bound. We have no doubt that the numerous friends of Father Baker will be glad to obtain this delightful memoir of his life and labors.