and seek safety for themselves and families in flight. The Catholic missionary stays at his post, and if it is God's will, dies there. Less than this could not be expected from a divine religion. "The hireling, because he is a hireling, seeth the wolf coming, and betakes himself to flight, because he careth not for the sheep. "The Good Shepherd layeth down His life for the sheep." In another point of view also, we venture to anticipate much excellent fruit from the memoir before us. Father Gentili's life, as we have sought to show by the extracts we have given, is a signal example how much may be owed, in the path of spiritual advancement, to the wise training and government of superiors in religion; in this respect the memoir abounds in instruction, both to superiors and their subjects, and may, with the blessing of God, exercise a most beneficial influence in deciding future vocations to the religious life. Lastly, with regard to the characteristic features of Dr. Gentili's career as a missionary in England, it is quite in place to point attention to the plain and obvious fact, which, in our opinion, speaks so much for the good sound sense, and plain enlightened wisdom of this holy Father. He was an Italian, of an ardent temperament, of refined tastes, of naturally delicate perceptions. If ever there was a person by nature disinclined to sympathise with the qualities of the Saxon mind, Father Gentili was this person. If there ever was a person of whom it might naturally have been expected that he would have come among us, hopelessly in love with a type of religious worship, and incurably prepossessed with an order of religious ideas, imbibed under the influence of the eager mind, and the more genial climate of his own beloved Italy, Gentili again was that person. Behold, then, this ardent admirer of Italy at his missionary labours; at Grace Dieu see him, going from cottage to cottage, studying, yes, deeply, profoundly studying, the nature of the people he had been sent to instruct, acquainting himself with their traditions, learning their ways of thought, their interests, their very foibles and failings, all to discover where an access might be found to implant, if not a Catholic doctrine, at least a desire to learn what Catholic doctrine might be. But it is time to take leave of this interesting and most instructive memoir, and in taking our leave we again fervently repeat our desire and hope, that the numbers of those estranged from God and their salvation, whom this victim of charity will gain by his death, may far exceed in number those whom he gained by his holy and self-denying life. ART. III.—1. Jesus the Son of Mary; or, the Doctrine of the Catholic Church upon the Incarnation of God the Son, considered in its bearings upon the reverence shewn by Catholics to his Blessed Mother. By Rev. JOHN BRANDE MORRIS, M.A., 2 vols. 8vo. London: Toovey, 1851. 2.-Lettres Catholiques sur l'Evangile. Catholic Letters on the Gospel. By the ABBE MASSIOT. Paris: Dentu, 1851. HEN, some numbers back, we treated first of the Parables, and then of the Miracles, of the New Testament, and showed how they could only receive their obvious explanation, as instructions, through the Catholic system, we felt that the same principle was applicable to all that our Redeemer said or did to make us wise unto salvation. To suppose that the less direct teaching of the Gospel belonged exclusively to the Spouse, and that the more immediate announcement of religious truth was common property to her and to her rivals, would indeed be an anomaly of reasoning, whereof we should be sorry to have any one suspect us. The miracle was for the unbelieving multitude; the parable was for the heartless priest and scribe; for friends and dear ones were the ordinary and domestic actions of Christ's earthly life; for apostles and disciples were His words of eternal life, the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. The Church that alone can claim succession, in ministry, in truth, in grace, and even in history, from these, must alone be entitled to appropriate to herself what was done and said for them. Others may stand in the skirts of the crowd, and listen; some may even penetrate into the inner circle that stands about Jesus, to interrogate, being doctors of the law, or to tempt, being pharisees. And if, like those who were sent to apprehend Him, but remained to listen to Him, they attend with sincerity, to His doctrines in parables and in mighty works, they will find them directed, as we have before seen, to force them into communion with, and submission to, the one holy and apostolic Church, in which alone His teaching ends, which alone His miracles illustrate. But when the day's labour is closed, and no Nicodemus. comes by night, to prolong it, before our heavenly Teacher retires to the mountain-top, or to His humble chamber, to pass the hours of repose in His rest, "the prayer of God," we see Him seated in the company of the few, of the faithful, and the loving; the Shepherd of the little flock, the Father of a slender household, partaking with them of their homely fare, and sharing with them in their untutored conversation. That His speeches to the multitude and to the priests were clothed in noble and elegant language, no one can doubt. The people admired not only the wisdom, but the grace, which flowed from His lips; the learned, like Nicodemus, conversed with Him respectfully; † and all wondered at the gifts, ordinarily of education, spontaneously springing from the mind of a reputed carpenter's son. But without repassing the ground trodden over in the first of the articles referred to, we will content ourselves with saying, that had the language or accent of our Saviour betrayed any symptoms of Galilean rudeness, the ridicule which might have been cast upon it would have been too keen and too useful a weapon, to have been refused by his unprincipled foes. The Jewish writers are unsparingly severe upon it. But when we come to contemplate our B. Redeemer retired from the crowd into the society of His disciples and familiar friends, we cannot but see Him descend into the familiar dialect of His own country; as senators in Venice, or nobles in Provence, would do when in the bosoms of their families. With Peter, whose speech in the priests' hall made him known for a Galilean, he would converse in those homely phrases, and with those local tones, which formed the language of the more favoured Matt. xiii. 56. *Luke iv. 22. + John iii. 2. cottage, as of the surrounding dwellings, of Nazareth, and which He condescended to lisp in infancy, as if caught from the sweet lips of His humble Mother. For affectation must be removed, as much as coarseness, from our estimate of His character who chose to be poor among the poor. And thus also we come to contemplate the frugal meal at which this heavenly conversation was held, as corresponding in its outer form and features. Rude furniture in an unadorned chamber, rough-hewn tables and stools, the wooden platter, and the earthenware beaker, are the preparation for a repast, of which the bread is not from Aser, nor the wine from Engaddi. Yet what a banquet! Here it is that the parable is explained, and the want of faith censured; that contentions for precedence are checked, and deep lessons of charity and humility are taught; that, in fine, the mysteries of revelation are disclosed, and the gospel seed is dropped into warm and panting hearts. Surely then, if the Church can claim the more mysterious teaching of adverse or curious crowds, as all directed for her improvement, she must have as fair a right to appropriate to herself that more intimate and direct instruction, which was addressed to those, whom she alone represents, and succeeds, on earth. And such is the teaching by actions and by words. To the first we shall confine ourselves in this paper, reserving the second to a future opportunity. But though we have drawn a faint outline of our Lord's dealings with His Apostles and friends, by way of describing the scenes of familiar life in which we may find instruction, in so doing we have kept before us an ulterior view. I. In fact, if" Christian" signifies a follower and disciple of Christ, one who looks up to his Master's example as a perfect model, there must, and will, be among those who bear that name, many that will gladly copy whatever He has been pleased to do. To all, this may not be given, any more than it is granted them to resemble Him in His ministry, or in His sufferings, or in His more spiritual prerogatives. But as His type is not to be found reproduced in any one of His disciples, as John came nearest to Him * Gen. xlix. 20. in love, Peter in elevation and headship, Paul in eloquence, James in prayer, Andrew in death; and as in later times His sacramental grace lives in His priesthood, His patience in His martyrs, His union of soul with God in His holy virgins so may we expect to find in some class of His chosen imitators this love and choice of poverty, this denudation of worldly comfort, and neglect of bodily ease. Our B. Redeemer is indeed a fount of burning light, the very sun of the spiritual firmament, in His Church; and the rays that are concentrated, with dazzling intensity in Him, diverge and are scattered over earth as they descend; and one is reflected back from one soul, and another from another, reproducing jointly the image of Himself; but each one brightly rendering back only one, though absorbing many more. Now if one of the virtues of our Lord was contempt of earthly things, and love necessarily of abjection, it must yet be reflected upon earth somewhere in His Church; and if this virtue be found only in one among contending parties, it surely will form a moral note, a seal of Christ not to be mistaken. We imagined, for instance, just now, this heavenly teacher joining His disciples in their temperate repast, entertaining them meanwhile with that word, on which man lives, no less than upon bread. Now let us descend eleven hundred years in time, and travel from Palestine to a more westerly region. There is a cleft in a mountain's side, down which, though most precipitous, and seemingly carved out by an ancient torrent, rarely a drop of water flows, into whose dismal avenue no songster of the grove is known to penetrate. Patched against the side of this gloomy glen, and rooted in its grey crags, is a dwelling, half built, half excavated, which, at the period alluded to, had just been constructed. The inmates are at meat. Just enter in. Their refectory is low, dark, and damp, for one part of it has its walls of rock. All else is in admirable keeping: the tables and forms are scarcely less rugged. And what is on the former does not fall much behind. A few herbs from the impracticable garden, seasoned poorly, bread of the coarsest, and drink of the sourest, form the provision. At this are seated young men and old, all simply clad, of grave aspect and modest demeaOne alone is not engaged as the rest. He is seated nour. * Matt. iv. 4. |