[Sœur] Eugénie: The Life and Letters of a Sister of Charity. Baltimore: J. Murphy & Co. 1873.
The subject of this memoir was a French lady of rank, brought up a Protestant, but converted in early life to the Catholic faith. It is an interesting, edifying, and well-written, as well as beautifully printed, little book, not at all commonplace, but with the freshness of unusual incidents told in the charming style which belongs to modern English literature of the best class.
There is something very attractive in the French character when unperverted by scepticism and frivolity. The energy, zeal, and enthusiasm they throw into their work for God are very captivating to colder natures. And the higher one ascends in the social scale, the more decided, apparently, do these traits become. Whereas, in other nationalities, prosperity and position frequently have a deleterious effect; they often bring a Frenchman’s better qualities into higher relief. In the religious orders, many illustrious examples of this remark may be found—of men brought up in ease and affluence who have adopted the mortified life of missionaries, braved every danger, and courted death itself, if thereby they could win some souls for Christ. The French nuns and Sisters of Charity have also been preeminent, as the unwritten history of the late war alone would demonstrate. The charitable spirit which lies at the foundation of that suavity and grace too often characterized as surface politeness, peculiarly fits them for the delicate and trying duties they assume.
In the subject of this memoir we recognize the same winning characteristics to which we have adverted. Of high birth, she left all which usually attracts youthful ambition for a life of self-abnegation and charity. The name Eugénie, already endeared to thoughtful readers through the Letters and Journal of Mlle. de Guérin (for we learn to appreciate a character full as much through the productions of the subject as by the portrayal of others), will receive new lustre from the memoirs of another saintly wearer. Such a record, though simple, is full of beauty and edification to those who follow in the same path, as well as those whose sphere of duty, though lying in the world, is yet elevated above it.
[Truth] and Error. By the Rev. H. A. Brann, D.D. New York: D. & J. Sadlier & Co. 1873.
This book is of small size, but on an important subject, viz., the nature and sources of certitude. It is clear, logical, sound, and written in a good style. As an antidote to the wretched, poisonous trash sold under the name of philosophy, which is nothing but methodical scepticism and materialism, this little book must do good if it is read and understood by those who have need of it. The unhappy intellectual vagrants of our day are afflicted with the two great miseries which poor “Jo” complained of: “Not knowing nothink, and starwation.” Jo often sadly muttered to himself, “I don’t know nothink!” Mr. Bain and all that set are so many Joes, repeating for ever, “I don’t know nothink, you don’t know nothink, nobody don’t and nobody can’t know nothink.” The sophist of Königsberg was a Jo of genius, nothing more. Dr. Brann will give a substantial breakfast to any one of these hungry Joes who will read his book.
[Aunt] Jo’s Scrap-Book. Vol. II. Shawl-Straps. By Louisa M. Alcott, author of Little Women, An Old-fashioned Girl, Little Men, Hospital Sketches. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1872.
This book is written in a light, trifling, flippant style, which may be very pleasant and appropriate when used to describe certain things, but when applied indiscriminately to all that one sees abroad, it certainly is not agreeable, to say the least of it. Neither is it pleasant, in a book of travels, to find that nothing is considered true, or even worthy of respect, unless the author believes in it. A Mass at S. Mark’s, Venice, is described in this way: “The patriarch was a fat old soul in red silk, even to his shoes and holy pocket-handkerchief; and the service appeared to consist in six purple priests dressing and undressing him like an old doll, while a dozen white-gowned boys droned up in a gold cockloft, and many beggars whined on the floor below.” A visit to the Carthusian Convent, Pavia, calls forth the following comment: “A nice way for lazy men to spend their lives, when there is so much work to be done for the Lord and his poor! Wanted to shake them all round,” etc. In the description of the inundation of parts of the city of Rome we read: “Livy indulged the sinful hope that the pope would get his pontifical petticoats very wet, be a little drowned and terribly scared by the flood, because he spoiled the Christmas festivities,” etc. Victor Emmanuel is spoken of as “the honest man,” with the remark that “that is high praise for a king.” Such expressions as “sullen old gentleman in the Vatican,” “silly Madonna,” and others of the same character, enliven the pages in various places.
We can scarcely believe that this book is from the same pen as Little Women, and we think it would be far better, when one is only willing to see things through their ignorance and prejudices, not to attempt to make others see with their eyes.
[God] our Father. By a Father of the Society of Jesus, author of The Happiness of Heaven. Baltimore: John Murphy & Co. 1873.