On the other hand, his testimony is so positive and his language so clear that all who blaspheme the divinity of our Lord have sought to thrust him and his gospel out of sight. The distinguished French author has a warm personal devotion to S. John, and has devoted himself with great enthusiasm to the task of collecting all the historical facts which remain to us as connected with the virgin apostle. His style is manifestly infused with his spirit, and hence the work is one rather of devotion than of cold, scientific dissertation.
“It is,” says the author in his preface, “a book of doctrine. I address it to all those who desire to instruct themselves in the truth of God. Truth has no school above that of the Gospel, and nowhere does it appear fairer or more profound than in the gospel of S. John.
“It is a book of piety. I dedicate it to Christians: to priests—the priesthood has no higher personification than S. John; to virgins—John was a virgin; to mothers—he merited to be given as a son to the Mother of God; to youth—he was the youngest of the apostles; to old men—it is the name he gives himself in his epistles. I offer it to suffering souls—he stood beside the cross; to contemplative souls—he was on Mt. Thabor; to all souls who wish to devote themselves to their brethren, and to love them in God—charity can have no purer ideal than the friend of Jesus.”
It goes to fill up a most important gap in our English hagiography, and will be greeted with much satisfaction by those desirous of having a complete series of lives of the saints.
The Ship in the Desert. By Joaquin Miller. Boston: Roberts Brothers. 1875.
The ad captandum title of this work leads one to look for an Arabian romance; whereas the story has scarcely anything to do with it, and is a very slender story at that. It is difficult to say whether the book is worth reading or not; for while, no doubt, it contains passages of considerable force and beauty, we are quite sure the poet himself does not know half the time what he means. Now, this kind of thing is “played out.” Far be it from us to accuse the divine Tennyson of straining and affectation; but we do say there are peculiarities in his style which it is dangerous to imitate. Taken as a model for classic and scholarly verse, he has no equal in the English language. But the subjectivism of his “enchanted reverie” may be easily “run into the ground.” Hence he has given rise (we suspect he is full sore over it) to what may be called the “Obscurantist” school of poetry. We think this school has had its day. We hope the coming poets will happily combine the faultless diction of Tennyson with the clear, strong thought of such masters as Milton, Byron, and Longfellow.
The Three Pearls; or, Virginity and Martyrdom. By a Daughter of Charity. New York: The Catholic Publication Society. 1875.
We presume this book is meant for a Christmas present. It is admirably fitted for that purpose—beautifully printed and tastefully bound. But the contents are still better worth having.
These “Three Pearls” were indeed “of great price”; three virgin-martyrs—S. Cæcilia, S. Agnes, and S. Catharine of Alexandria. No three saints, perhaps, could have been more happily chosen by the gifted author as models for the young Catholic women of the day, and particularly here in America. If it be objected that such heroines are not imitable, the answer is obvious—that the virtues which led them to become heroines are imitable by all. And, again, the “modern paganism” with which we are familiar has many features in common with that amid which they lived.
There is a prose sketch of each saint, followed by a tribute in verse. The “Editor’s Preface” is from the pen of a learned priest in the Diocese of Boston.