VOL. XXXII.

D

THE GRIDIRON GOD.

All hail! thou fin de siecle gridiron god,
Tremendous in thy majesty of mud.

Thou girdest deep thy loins with divers bands,
Like unto wine cask with a triplex hoop;
Thy oak-sound chest reposes 'neath a wall
Of canvas-back,—and back of that again
Some stubborn weave defends thy titan lungs!
Thy lion shock of hair floats wildly out
Like streamers from some masthead, in a breeze;
A fillet coarse enzones thy dome of thought,
Equator-like, for 'tis a ponderous task
To balance mind and matter in a god
Whose throne is on a gridiron, and whose nod
Brings grief or comfort (as the case may, be).
Unglassed thine orbs, for thou hast eagle's task,
To ken th' illusive pigskin; yet thine ears
Are closed, as if to Flatt'ry's siren voice,

By duplex wads (all stamped with maker's name).
And, quadruplexed, a nasal shield defends
That prominence whence comes the breath of life,
If men but breathe aright, as gridiron gods
Are wont to do, preparing for the fight.
Thy thighs are as the plowshare, and thy arms
Might barriers make 'gainst heaven-storming foes.
Thy feet, encased in shoon most curious wrought,
Meander through the muck as though a field
Where love-lorn flowers bend their scented lips
To kiss the hem of Flora's polonaise.
In very wantonness of new-found strength
Thou tosset up the Earth! (sad, melting earth,
Reduced by pluvial Jove to liquid ooze).
Hast worshippers? Oh! my; just see them flock;
They fringe thy throne, and low obeisance make,
And plaudits give from hands as soft as love
Or hard as horn; 'tis incense 'fore thy throne,
And thou absorbest it, and growest fat,
Until the zone that binds thy godly brow
Is burst thro' pressure of thy tumor'd head.

OUR NATIONAL SPIRIT.

-G.

ATIONS as such have no hereafter. They begin their career, flourish for a time, and then falling to decay are numbered among the things that were but are not. In the path of history lie ruins which tell but too plainly the inevitable doom of all temporal powers, whether existing under a Christian or Pagan system of government. From the earliest dawn of civilization nations have arisen, prospered and fallen. Centuries ago a mighty government flourished on the banks of the Nile; now nothing remains but crumbled walls and broken columns to

No 2

mark the place where once it stood. Rome, the mistress of the ancient world, stretched out her arms in conquest until they almost encircled the globe. Having reached the highest excellence in art and Pagan civilization she yielded to the onslaught of barbarian hordes, and today her time-worn ruins. serve but to remind the traveler of the departed glory of a city that once sat upon her seven hills and from her throne of glory ruled the world." So while today we citizens of the United States look proudly upon the government which we love to call our own and pray her God-speed in her prosperous career, we feel that she too, glorious though she be, is only mortal and must one day pay the debt of dissolution. Our fondest dream, however, our hope and indeed our paramount duty as citizens of the American Republic is to preserve the national life she received from her founders; to increase it by every lawful means; to transmit it stronger, more vigorous, to our posterity than we received it from those who have gone before us. If we read history aright we shall find that the marvellous success of the Roman government, from its establishment under Romulus to its epoch of greatest glory under Agustus, was owing to the esteem in which the three preservatives of all governments, namely Law, order and religion, were held by the highest and the lowest of Roman citizens.

The armies of Rome have melted, the glories of her world-wide domination live only in the immortal classics, yet, the secret of her success, the underlying spirit which inspired her, is living, active, and finds essential embodiment in our own system of legislation, for to Roman jurisprudence we may trace the laws and civilization of modern European states, and from Europe we find them transplanted to the shores of America. Our nation from humble beginnings has advanced, step by step, until today it occupies a position which commands the attention, if not the respect, of all other existing governments. To the nations of the old world she is a mystery in her growth, her resources, her permanence; to her children she is the polar star of nations; she is the paradise of freedom to whose shores come the children of every clime with tributes to offer at the shrine of Liberty. In our patriotic ardor we may exaggerate the benefits to be derived from American citizenship, yet this very exaggeration serves to accentuate the confidence which is felt in the permanence of our institutions.

What, it may be asked, is the secret of our success? It has been noticed that in every community, state or nation is found that peculiar attitude of its members towards men and things which we call its spirit, and which is as clearly discerned as if it possessed material existence. As a rule it embraces the noblest attributes of our nature, and while it flourishes, the society which

possesses it is also found to flourish, and when it begins to decay the ruin of that society is not far distant. Sometimes this spirit originates from the magnetic influence of one man, dying when he dies, or again, surviving him for centuries after he has been gathered to his fathers. Sometimes this spirit is the result of concerted state or national action, exhibiting as it does our own national spirit, the characteristics of those who make our laws, of those who defend them, of those who enjoy the privileges or share in the burdens inseparable from citizenship.

It is to the possession of an exalted National Spirit among our people that we attribute our success. It was born with our nation and it must continue to exist if we would have our Republic fulfill its destiny. It is confined to no particular locality, but has spread itself all over the land, uniting the East with the West, the North with the South, in the common cause of our country's welfare. It has drawn all our citizens within one fold and has bound them with ties which seem to grow stronger as our national trials increase.

A prime ingredient of America's National Spirit is the all-important one of love for liberty. This is not a barren love which exalts in theory the freedom of the citizen, but which in practice, loads him with chains as oppressive as any that ever crushed the hopes of patriots. Though all the purposes for which our constitution was framed are not always successfully carried out, yet, life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness have ever been as beacon lights among us in spite of the darkness occasionally arising from the clash of arms, from the political factions, from perplexing struggles between capital and labor. The liberty offered to the citizens of the United States is not licensed to do as passion may dictate, or private interest may de-ire; it is the constitutional liberty, framed with a view of the greatest good to the greater number; it is founded on the rights of man, but it is also mindful of man's obligations to himself and to his fellow-man, and if the cry of discontent through out the land is sometimes louder than the psalm of jubilee, it is not because the spirit of our nation breeds discord, but because the individual forgets the claims of other individuals, trampling upon their rights and making the God-given boon of liberty to consist in the brutal survival of the strongest. If even the Gospel of Christianity cannot make men better, nobler, more merciful and more just against their will, why should the spirit animating our system of national government be held accountable for occasional evils which have their origin as much in the brain of artful schemers as in the social conditions surrounding us? That life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness may not be the figment of a dream among our people but a practical reality, our National Spirit fosters progressmuch-abused word though that be--opening up material, intellectual, and moral resources, unti America and Genius have become synonymous terms. So vast, indeed, have been our strides in material progress that fears have been entertained lest we lose sight of the intellectual and the spiritual; yet, though monopolies and trusts and corporations are kept more prominently before us through the medium of a somewhat sensational press, the American people do not lose

sight of the importance of education nor the necessity of a well-defined public morality. Each religious denomination worthy of the name Christian, is laboring by every means in its power to further the spiritual interest of its communicants; and if at times the spirit of evangelizing has degenerated into a base villification of other laborers in the vineyard, it is not because the spirit of our people clamors for religious dissensions, but because some fossilized ranter now and again belches forth his over-crowded spleen to the amusement or disgust of all fair-minded people.

Not all the gold wrested from Nature through the explorations of her secrets remains locked up in the coffers of those whom an astonished, and sometimes an envious class has demonstrated "bloated-bondholders." Noble-spirited citizens with millions to second their noble impulses have time and again generously contributed to the erection of churches, colleges, libraries, that their less fortunate fellow-men may improve by these public benefactions. And even where resources are meagre, the public spirit, animat ing our peoples, urges them to give tithes from their slender possessions that churches may be crected, schools maintained, healthy public institutions fostered, that so matter may not completely dominate mind, but that the soul, our superior part, may have at least occasional freedom from the imperious de

mands of the inferior.

One of the first essential elements in our National

Spirit is intense patriotism. As a sentiment, patriotism means an attachment to the Fund that gave us birth, whether that land be a second paradise through Nature's gift, or as barren as the ice-bound wastes of the Eskimo. Nature herself teaches us to love the spot where first we saw the light of day; to hold in reverence the place that guards the ashes of our departed kindred; to be willing to give time and possessions and even life itself for the protection of the family hearthstone.

When this natural sentiment has been raised to the dignity of virtue, when natural love of country has been idealized, spiritualized, when God and my native land" becomes the patriots watchword, patriotism may be said to approach very near to a heavenly origin. It was pre-eminently such with those who laid the foundations of our government, with those who came from foreign shores, from France, from Poland, from Ireland, to do battle here in behalf of a struggling people. These patriots from the old world brought with them whatever is best in ideal love for country; their patriotism commingled with that of our ragged continental army; inspiriting it until out of the happy union was formed a Constitution which no power of England was able to resist. And to this day we find in the patriotism of the American people, an unique and important factor. They who come as alens, although, as is especially the case with the Irish, they cling lovingly to mother-land with a sort of pathetic obstinacy, love the land of their adoption, fight for her, die for her if needs be, teach their children to reverence the flag, respect the laws and uphold at every cost the dignity of the nation. So that whatever is grandest and noblest in the patriotism. of European peoples is transferred to us, making love of country among our seventy millions a dominant

sentiment, a guiding principle, a reserve force ready, like an avalanche or tidal wave, to sweep away all before it.

To this phenomenal patriotism our National Spirit owes the important element of unity in our national affairs "E Pluribus Unum," is not a motto without a meaning, but one that may be said to summarize our national history. Each of the thirteen original colonies may have had its territorial privileges, prejudices and even jealousies of the other, but against a common foe all were a unit. The war of 1812 and the Mexican war demonstrated that unity in national affairs is not a mere boast but a vivid principle among the various commonwealths of the United States. Once only did the fiend of discord succeed in breaking this triple bond of brass, setting state against state, brother against brother, the North against the South. Four years of blood and carnage, four years of agonizing doubt, four years of prospective triumph for the Republic's enemies; but, thank God, the fierce outburst of passion which had fanned the flames of civil strife, died out before our government had been involved in irreparable ruin. Out of the confusion came order ; out of the ashes of battle sprang the olive branch of peace; from states "discordant, dissevered, belligerent," as Webster shuddered to contemplate them, came liberty for the vanquished, union with the conquerers "liberty and union now," and with God's help forever." With recuperative powers, such as these, the government of any nation is safe. With us it creates an immutable confidence in the perpetuity of our institutions, even though they who are at the head of affairs are experimenting with the hitherto untried, and to many minds, dangerous problem of expansion. Although our recent war with Spain may not have been to the liking of thousands of our loyal cit zeus, no sooner had our Chief Executive spoken for our support than every state in the union furnished its quota, on land and on sea, providing a force with whose valor and numbers the historic chivalry of the Spaniard was powerless to cope. With a discipline worthy of an older nation we have learned how to subordinate individual opinion to general demand, how to put aside healthy state rivalry for national glory, how to merge, as it were, the forty-five commonwealths of the Union into a solid phalanx in support of a Republican or a Democratic Chief Executive in the exercise of his constitutional powers. The motive underlying this marvelous unanimity is not that of vainglorious boasting; it is a higher, a nobler motive, and has its inspiration in what may justly be called a religious conviction, that the God of nations has marked out for us an illustrious destiny, for the accomplishment of which national unity is indispensable, for we are a religious people in spite of the welcome fact that no national religion has been laid down as a plank in our national platform. If we have marts of commerce, we have likewise temples to the living God; if we have armies fighting for mastery in the Philippines, we have also peaceful cohorts lifting their hands to heaven in behalf of our uncomplaining soldiers; if, as our enemies scornfully tell us, we worship the mighty dollar, we are believers enough

to inscribe upon it the motto of our abiding hope, the pledge of our assured success, "In God we trust."

-T. J. L.

Shakespeare's Fidelity to History. (Continued.)

"My tender age was never yet attaint
With any passion of inflaming love."
Henry VI, Act V., Scene 5.

OW strange! that a warrior before whom all France trembled should beget such an effeminate Prince. In this part his character does not find full expression, nevertheless we cannot but perceive the budding virtues of a saintly, but weak-minded king; virtues becoming a minister of the Church rather than a soverign whose realm was torn by powerful vassals. Says Hume: "By the softness of his temper and weakness of his understanding, he was fitted to be governed by those who surroun led him, and it was easy to see that his reign would prove a perpetual minority."

Every student of history upon a careful perusal of this play will unmistakably notice how confusedly the poet has utilized history. It is conceded that events are invariably transposed, and in many instances almost inexcusable mistakes confront the reader. Since it includes a period of twenty years, a time in which the realm was in constant effervescence, internal and external, some allowance might be made. True, the poet wished to present this space of time in as compact a state as possible, yet some anachronisms and transpositions admit of no excuse. Let me cite but two instances. Salisbury, having inquired of Talbot how he fared while a prisoner of war, learned from the valiant soldier that:

"The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner
Call'd the brave Lord Ponton De Santrailles ;
For him I was exchanged and ransomed.”
Act I., Scene 4.

Now the death of Salisbury at the turret near Orleans took place in 1429; Talbot's capture by the French in the same year, but Santrailles' capture by the English two years later in 1431. Again at the cornation at Paris, the King, speaking of valiant Talbot, remarks:

"When I was young, as yet I am not old,
I do remember how my father said
A stouter champion never handled sword."
"We here create Earl of Shrewsbury ;
And in our coronation take your place."
Act III., Scene 1.

you

Though the King often alluded to his "tender age, yet at his father's death it was so tender that memory had not yet asserted itself as a reality. On this point. Malone remarks that "Henry was but nine months old when his father died and never saw him." On the other hand Hudson agrees that: "Talbot was not made Earl of Shrewsbury till 1442, more than ten years after the crowning of Paris." The latter's authority is Holinshed who states: "About this season, John, the valiant Lord of Talbot, for his approved prowess and wisdom, as well in England as in France,

both in peace and war so well tried, was created Earl of Shrewsbury, (May 20, 1442.)"

Viewing the play as a whole we discern that the author wished to prepare his readers for the inevitable future calamities overshadowing England. Henry's apparent indifference 18 no unimportant step. In the beginning we are steeped in the struggles of a bloody war, and then the play concludes with the farcical selection of the King's wife, who had already intimated her intention to rule the King's mind. Most important is the rupture between the houses of York and Lancaster, which is the key to all successive plays. Its introduction firmly linked this drama with the

Forced by inevitable circumstances he dwelt among men, but his soul sought happiness in the celestial regions beyond this world :

"All his mind is bent on holiness

To number Ave-Marias on his beads,
His champions are the Prophets and Apostles,
His weapons holy saws and sacred writ."
Act I., Scene 3.

Being morbidly conscious of the end of earthly existence, he lacked the kingly character in all his actions, and to this extent he was guilty of culpable indifference. He always lived in the presence of his Creator:

"O Lord, that lends me life,

Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness."
Act I., Scene 2.

No wonder he calls heaven "the treasury of everlasting joy." Is such a soul fitted for a King? It might permeate a king's frame, but hardly do we look for it there. Rather tell me it is the soul of a saint.

we

To follow popular opinion we have employed the term "weakness;" should we use "strength, would probably be mocked. But was not all the hopes of this king founded on the rock of St. Peter? We concede he was incapable of coping with the exigencies of his time, because the times demanded a man of iron will; yet under different surroundings. his physical and mental frailty would have never become so apparent. Though his nobles were in constant perturbation, yet the commons expressed no ordinary solicitude for his well being. Subsequent to Humphrey's murder public opinion reached such a pitch that the people rose en masse aud demanded Suffolk's death or banishment, for fear that he might also make Henry's peaceful "sleep eternal." If ever this king showed any real will-power and determination it was in this instance: no pleading could save the Duke. Observe for once a royal sternness in his words:

"If, after three days space, thou here be'st found
On any ground that I am ruler of,

The world shall not be ransom for thy life."
Act III., Scene 2.

This monarch as penned by the English bard is the

same as that of the historian. Hume strongly colors his imbecility, referring repeatedly to his incapability "to sway the English sceptre," terming him, "the empty shadow of a king." empty shadow of a king." Lingard's unbiased judg. ment, though mentioning his inability to reign, incites us rather to a feeling of sympathy than mockery. Among his recognitions of Henry's regal attributes may be cited his answer to York before the battle of St. Albans: "Sooner than abandon any of my lord. who were faithful to me, I am ready this day in the quarrel to live and die." This answer indeed shows a determination becoming a king; yet a critic's version cannot be clouded or dimmed to a hundred actual and real defects by one action of more than ordinary determination or bravery. Dowden has trul said: "For fear from what is wrong he shrinks from what is right. Through the scrupulosity of conse ence he neglects his highest duties." Shakespeare's authorities were Holinshed and Hall. The forme: delineates the king as "plain, upright, farre from fraud, wholie given to praise, reading of scriptures and almesdeeds." The latter says: "He dyd abhorre of hys owne nature al the vices, as wel of the body as of the soul. . . . . . He was of honest conversation and pure integritie." Such are the senti ments of the chroniclers, and in the main idea the poet has but amplified these thoughts.

At times

Historical data of this play show a stricter chronological order than Part I; still several remarkable deviatious might easily be pointed out. The dramatist does not pose as a historian, hence transpositions may be allowed on the plea of dramatic coloring. these errors may be traced to the chronicles, yet often they are purely dramatic license. As an illustration of the latter, we call attention to Eleanor's actua participation, in public affairs after Margaret's arrival in England. As shown by the poet her disgrace took place after the Queen's arrival; while historians: recorded that event four years before she set foot on English soil, namely, in 1441; hence we may safely infer that they never met, nor had a chance to meet. No doubt, the reason for her presence in this play is to measure the new Queen's real abilities beside a similar character of her own sex; otherwise Margaret, whose many masculine qualifications made her so conspicuous in the English court, could scarcely be reduced to the standard of feminality.

Moreover, when in Act 1, Scene 2, York calls his two sons, Edward and Richard, to "be their father's bail," Shakespeare is unquestionably too hasty in introducing the latter; because he was not born until October 2, 1452, while York's capture took place during March of that year. Again it may be questioned whether the author in accusing Gloucester of taking bribes did not mean Suffolk; because the former's loyalty and integrity were unpolluted while on the other hand the latter stood in rather high esteem on the continent and thus incurred suspicions at home. Furthermore the death of Clifford at the hands of York is entirely unhistoric. He met a | warrior's death at the first battle of St. Albans, as the poet himself says:

"Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all a-breast,
Charg'd our main battle's front, and, breaking in,
Were by the swords of common soldiers slain.''
Part III., Act. I,, Scene 1.

The encounter between York and Sommerset is supported by Hall; but the presence of Clifford's son at this battle, as far as we could learn, is unauthentic. Though we might enumerate several anachronisms, yet we assume that these sufficiently show the bard's adhesion to history. It seems his art and ingenuity selected materials to suit its own purpose, regardless of chronological order and consistency.

Having thus superficially examined the types of royal weakness, we will next endeavor to discover how the Swan of Avon has modeled royal vigor and strength. King John is justly termed the regal criminal, but he is weak even in his criminality. Richard III, on the other hand, is a villian in the full sense of the term, and Shakespeare has omitted. nothing to impress this conviction on our minds. With all his innate art and genius he painted such an atrocious high-handed criminal, as ever "strut the stage." Nature indeed has given copious assistance, especially in delineating his personal aspect; but disgust, so universally excited in portraying a monster in human shape, scarcely invades our bosom: Richard's activity, his mockery and hypocrisy, his presence on every occasion of importance, his domineering spirit gaining advantage of every circumstance, in short, the rapid succession of events so kindles one's mind, that one scarcely realizes the magnitude of each sepa

rate occurence.

Unlike any other of the poet's historical plays, this is characterized for possessing one dominating personality. Richard is the center of all action; the greatness of his mind so overshadows every other character that one only watches his figure as it surmounts all visible and invisible obstacles. Everything yields before him. Difficulties offer but slight resistance; lives are valued lightly; human frailty is mocked; affection spurned, and friendship repaid with the death. While he was in power no one knew whether the sun would shine for him the next day or not. Hastings rode happily to the tower, but ret irned headless; Lady Anne, yielded to this monster wooer, paid dear for her frailty; and anyone incidentally in the way leading to the royal diadem was forced to yield his life. Edward V. and his brother, innocent as they were, met a cruel death, simply because fortune gave them royal blood. Finally Buckingham, his tool, who so long persued a bloody career, side by side with the king, "stops for breath," unable to continue any longer such an abominable course. He was probably He was probably unable to silence the qualms of conscience, which must have asserted themselves with more than ordinary vivacity at the suggestion of the murder of the royal Princes. And when he later claimed the dukedom of Hereford as a fulfillment of a former promise, the King suddenly turned a deaf ear to his petition, and continued to talk on a different subject. At length Richard's real character asserted itself, and to his astonishment, Buckingham learned that the King was "not in a giving vein today." No doubt the Duke had become useless to the King, and the rupture between them ended in the death of the favorite. Thus he treated one to whom he owed nearly all his power and greatness.

Even his mother was not exempt from ridicule and slander. Mark with what hypocrisy he received her blessing:

Mockery as it is, we think we may safely conjecture that a cynical smile played on his lips when she uttered the words love, charity and duty. Did he know the import of these terms? No doubt, but his temper was too cruel, his heart too callous, his whole self so given up to the designs of Pluto as to regard them only as idle winds. And when on another occasion she is ready to "smother her damned son in the breath of bitter words," he quickly ordered a flourish of trumpets to drown her voice:

"A flourish of trumpets!-strike alarum,
drums!

Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women
Rail on Lord's annointed; strike I say!
Act IV., Scene 4.

(To be continued.)

The Metropolitan Truth Society. IKE commercial panics, periodical outbursts of irreligious fanaticism seem to have become regular incidents in the history of the United States-occurrences to be looked for with as much certainty as if they were the national outgrowth of the peculiarly constituted condition of American society. It goes without saying that such ebullitions of bigotry are intensely foreign to the spirit of American institutions, hostile to the best interests of society, and a blighting curse on those who tolerate or foster them.

It is astonishing how plentifully the press of the land doles out abuses, the most vile slanders most illfounded, in short, whatever could in any way serve to demean Catholicism in the eyes of the world, to its all absorbing patrons.

As

This distortion of facts and discoloration of truth have been going on for a long time unchallenged. Now, happily, we Catholics have raised up a champion who goes forth clad in the shield of faith with the breastplate of truth to meet his numerous skulking foes. In a recent conversation, Dr. McGuiniss, '89, stated, "the one explanation of the phenomenal success of his organization is its tremendous need. Walter Lecky recently wrote me, when one realizes the immense amount of ability, culture and good will in the Catholic laity it is a crying shame that there is no outlet for the same. I have experienced this myself. Thus, I came across a Catholic gentleman recently who is perhaps the best informed man in this part of the country, concerning South American affairs. Yet his pen is idle, he had written a few letters to the papers. They were rejected. He hailed with delight our systematic movement."

The Metropolitan Truth Society is to be congratulated upon its choice of Dr. McGuiniss for president. The society being a child of his own mind, he will naturally infuse into its workings all the ardor and energy of which he is capable.

Its prosperity is assured, if Catholics generally are prompt in recognizing its merits and adding their generous support.

L.