As the river Seine divides the city of Paris into two parts, so it divides the sewers into two districts, which formerly emptied their contents respectively on the right and left bank of the river. In order to prevent the infection of the water of the river, the main sewer of the left bank was made to pass its contents through a tunnel under the river, and empty them at Asnières, the same point where that of the right bank emptied, thus avoiding the current which washed the discharged material back upon the city.

Thus we see that the disposition of sewerage has always been a question of great import, even to cities situated on large streams of water, into which it could be turned. While proposing a system for at once doing away with the nuisance caused by it, and at the same time utilizing it for fertilizing purposes, we are happy to add that it is not the first time the plan has been brought forward for New York. Professor Lewis A. Sayre during his administration as Resident Physician of this city, had regular plans drawn up and calculations made as to the cost of the entire work; and also what return could with certainty be expected from the investment. The designs were made by the late John Randall, of Maryland, one of the ablest civil engineers the country has ever produced.

The professor's idea was, to have the street excavated for some twelve feet below its grade. A substantial wall of masonry was to be built on either side to sustain the sidewalk, and a convex iron girder was to cross the entire width of the street, upon which the pavement could be laid. Within the inclosure thus made, the sewer, water, and gas-pipes could be placed, and trap-doors arranged at certain distances to make it possible to get at them without disturbing the pavement. Here could be carried on a vast laboratory for deodorizing the contents of the sewers. His plan also embraced a sort of trap by which the yard of each house communicated with the main sewer, and an arrangement by which the fluid portion was allowed to drain away from the solids, which in turn were to be dumped from the temporary reservoir in which they were received into a small car at the bottom of the excavation, and then carried to the laboratory by a regular railroad intersecting every portion of the city.

This general plan of subterranean sewerage may strike the eye of the uninitiated as very expensive; but when we consider the manipulation a street is subjected to from the time its boundaries are defined by the surveyor, until it has been handed over to the city as complete, by the last contractor, we think the plan will appear in a very different light. In the first place, take a street that requires filling up to a certain specified grade. Sealed proposals or bids are received from contractors for the work, and the party making the most advantageous offer obtains the contract, and in due course of time completes the work. Then, in all probability, a second party obtains a contract to at once put down some kind of pavement. After this, houses are built upon the street, and a sewer must be laid. This completed, the gas and Croton mains must be put down. Then each house must have separate sewer, gas, and water connection. Thus the pavement is perpetually torn up and relaid, each removal rendering it more unfit for travel. Why not, when the street was low enough to lay the sewer without turning out one shovelful of earth, put in the pipes for the sewer, gas, and water, and leave the laying of the pavement until it could be done without having it torn up four or five times for necessities which every one knows will arise? Let any one calculate the vast sums of money spent on a street, in these various changes, and we are sure the amount will be larger than the cost of the plan above proposed, with this great difference, that when the work is completed, in the latter case, a yield of from six to seven per cent upon the outlay could be at once expected, while in the former there would be constant call for additional expense in repairs. Where the grade of a street requires to be raised several feet, it is doubtful if it would cost much more to put up the two walls of masonry and the iron girders than it costs to fill up the space with earth and rocks. Contractors pay from forty to seventy-five cents per load for this filling; and every one knows how very few square feet the carts used for this purpose hold. Again, the question of an underground railroad has been much discussed during the past few years. With this plan of sewerage, it would be no more expensive to carry such a railroad over the entire city, worked from given points by stationary engines and wire ropes, as is proposed for the overground railroad, than to lay such a road in the streets of the city; excepting that arrangements would have to be made at certain distances to enable passengers to go down to platforms below, for the purpose of entering the cars. This project would at once put into the hands of the city authorities a subterranean city, and also the vast revenues to be obtained from its underground railroads, and does not present half the difficulties that must have been experienced in bringing the Croton water across the Harlem River.

Having shown that nature has particularly favored that portion of the city which lies west of the park, and that, from present indications, the highest art will prevail in the magnificent improvements which are there going on, we will mention another cause, which will add weight to the many reasons already adduced, why it should in the future become the home of the fashion and wealth of the metropolis. If we look at the great capitals of Europe, we will notice the general tendency the affluent classes have shown to select their abodes in the western sections of these cities. Paris, London, St. Petersburg, Berlin, and others show this conclusively. In each, the western section is covered with the elegant palaces of the rulers and the costly mansions of the rich; while on the east side is found the bustling activity of the work-shops and manufactories. In a translation from Le Correspondant published in the April number of this magazine, the writer, speaking of this subject, says,

"In visiting the ruins of Pompeii and other ancient cities, I have observed, as well as M. Junod, that this custom dates from the highest antiquity. In those cities, as is seen at Paris in our day, the largest cemeteries are found in the eastern parts, and generally none in the western. M. Junod, examining the reason of so general a fact, thinks it is connected with atmospheric pressure.

"M. Elie de Beaumont has since mentioned some facts which tend to prove the constancy and generality of the rule laid down by M. Junod. He noticed in most of the large cities this tendency of the wealthy class to move to the same side—generally, the western—unless hindered by certain local obstacles. Turin, Liège, and Caen are examples of this. M. Moquin-Tandon has observed the same thing at Montpellier and Toulouse."

In the first part of this article the influence of "atmospheric pressure" was fully spoken of, as also the effect of the winds so favorable to residents on the west side. With these facts in view, it is easy to foresee that those who possess means will always purchase homes in this portion of the city, which offers the best security against disease and the greatest guarantee for continued physical health.

It is curious to go back to the commencement of the present century, and to note the changes in location the growth of the city has obliged the wealthy to make since that time. In the early days, State street, and then Bowling Green, offered to this class attractions superior to those of any other portion of the city. The ample shade of the latter, its stately forest-trees, verdant lawn, and beautiful walks, with the refreshing sea-breeze constantly blowing in from old ocean, and the magnificent moving panorama in the harbor, made it a great favorite of our forefathers. They whiled away their time in this charming resort, smoking their pipes, and watching the merry gambols of the children. It may be, they canvassed the future of this goodly city, which under their thrifty influences already promised well, never dreaming, however, of the gigantic growth its future was to develop. In time this garden spot changed into the great entrepôt, where emigrant ships daily landed vast numbers eager to obtain employment and homes in this new country where every thing promised wealth and happiness. Greenwich street next absorbed within its precincts the votaries of fashion; soon after, it had for rivals in public favor East-Broadway and College Place. They, in turn, were deserted for the location between Fourth and Eighth streets. But the same agency being at work here as below, soon brought Union Square into requisition. After this, Fifth and Madison avenues became the grand centres of the opulent classes; and to-day the entire course of the former, with its long line of brown-stone architecture and regal grandeur, attracts the attention and challenges the admiration of the world. But after this avenue reaches Ninetieth street, its grade descends rapidly to the low level of the Harlem plains, and is no longer so desirable for residences. At the rate it is now being built upon, it will soon be completed to this point, and then in what direction will this current turn? The Harlem Railroad will always prove an insurmountable objection to Fourth avenue, which is behind it; and it does not require a prophet's power to foresee that the Grand Boulevard, the garden parks overlooking the Hudson, and the great aids to general healthfulness possessed by the west side, will prove sufficiently attractive to cause the next move to be in the direction of the beautiful sites which border these improvements.

The proposed widening of Broadway from Thirty-second to Fifty-ninth street adds certainty to this prediction. We think it most unfortunate that this change did not commence as low down as Seventeenth street, and we hope it may yet be found advisable to do so. We would then have a noble thoroughfare starting from the Battery, crossing the various avenues diagonally until it reached the beautiful circle at the Eighth avenue entrance to the park; and then continuing as the Grand Boulevard to the upper extremity of the island. This measure, which seems to meet with the disapprobation of a large portion of the community, if carried out, would, we are convinced, prove a crowning glory to the metropolis; and it is but fitting that the thoroughfare which is to vie with any other in the world should have a continuance in the lower part of the city worthy its princely magnificence; for it would then be a subject of pride not only to us but to the whole country, which would regard it as a national ornament.

We may also look forward to an ever-increasing commercial importance for the east side, with its long line of piers fronting the harbor, always filled with vessels bearing the flags of every commercial nation of the world.

Its shore will be covered with capacious warehouses and immense manufactories, from which will resound the noisy bustle and unceasing activity of trade.

A glance at the residences in the different locations mentioned above, as being at various times the homes of those possessing wealth, will show that each successive change has been marked by an increase in the lavish expenditure of means for the purpose of producing architectural display. With this fact before us, we may form an idea of the palatial houses with which, by means of their rapidly increasing wealth, the rising generation will crown the hill-sides of the western section.

When the proposed improvements for this portion of our city have been completed, the whole, bounded on the one side by Central Park, with its many natural and artificial beauties appearing like a fairy-land, and on the other by the dancing waters of the Hudson, will give to our metropolis attractions superior to those possessed by the most celebrated cities of Europe.


THE BASILICA OF ST. PETER.

TRANSLATED FROM LES ETUDES RELIGIEUSES, HISTORIQUES ET LITTERAIRES.

While visiting, two or three months since, the Vatican Basilica, it seemed to me there was a certain correspondence, a kind of harmony, between this monument and the great event of which it is soon to be the theatre. Since that time new observations have strengthened this first impression; then reminiscences of a different kind, the perusal of various works, unfortunately too limited in numbers, and especially a more attentive examination of St. Peter's, have had the effect of defining more clearly what at first was only a vague and confused perception.

Before my pilgrimage to Rome, I was so fortunate as to visit one of the cities which had for a long time been the objects of my most ardent curiosity. I refer to the humble Tyrolean city where, more than three hundred years ago, was held the last and most glorious of the general councils. The city of Trent presents nothing extraordinary to the eye of the traveller except, perhaps, a kind of trident of mountains which gives it its name, and which forms around it a group of natural fortifications truly grand. Certain monuments, among others the cathedral of a Roman style, and somewhat interesting, appeared to merit some attention. But that which attracts and interests the Catholic heart in the most lively degree is the church where the holy Œcumenical Council held its immortal sessions. It bears the name of St. Mary Major, the same as the great Roman basilica so generally known and venerated. In truth, this renowned title is hardly appropriate, if the dimensions of the edifice and its architectural merits alone are considered. In these respects it more nearly resembles our modest Parisian church of Notre Dame des Victoires. This comparison, without being wholly just, may yet give a good idea of the sanctuary rendered illustrious by the Council of Trent.

As to the local traditions respecting this august assembly, a sojourn far too short prevented me from collecting them as fully as I could have wished. According to the information of a respectable priest with whom I conversed a short time, a great revival of faith, the effects of which are still visible, took place in the city on the third commemorative centenary in the month of June, 1863. This same ecclesiastic likewise informed me that the memory of our great Laynez has always been dear to the popular memory, and that the greatest eulogium that can be passed upon a man who devotes himself to works of charity is to compare him to that indefatigable apostle. Probably his learned discourses are nearly forgotten even in the places where they were delivered; his preaching is only remembered because of his deeds, a new proof, among so many others, in support of the divine word, "Wisdom passeth away, ... but charity shall never pass away."

Not far from the entrance of Santa Maria Maggiore is a monument, erected in 1855 for the first anniversary of the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. It bears a statue of her "who has destroyed all heresies throughout the world," and for whom the fathers of the Council of Trent formally stipulated an exception in the decrees respecting the doctrine of original sin. I noticed in the interior of the church a painting representing one of the reunions of the council, and especially the crucifix which stood on a table in the centre of the nave and presided, so to speak, at those solemn assemblies. This crucifix may now be seen above one of the side altars. It is regarded with extreme veneration by the faithful. I will not attempt to depict my emotion in celebrating the holy mysteries before this sacred image with the same chalice the cardinal legate had used, which was kindly loaned me by the venerable chaplain. You can easily imagine that the place, the circumstances, and those precious relics, without mentioning my own inclinations, imposed it on me as a duty to offer up the holy sacrifice for the success of the approaching council.

On the whole, the city of Trent and the sanctuary of the council do not fully correspond with the solemn grandeur of the event which took place therein. It is unnecessary to say that this kind of contrast does not shock in the least a mind at all familiar with objects connected with the faith. This want of correspondence is frequently to be noticed even in a more striking degree. The least supernatural eye soon forgets the whole edifice and these material objects only to behold the great Christian wonders once wrought within so small a space. We say to ourselves, with profound emotion, that this is the cenacle of modern times—a real cenacle, in truth, where the light of the Holy Ghost was diffused more abundantly than had ever taken place since the day of Pentecost.

Without any great effort of the imagination I could see a figure of the religious renovation produced by the holy Council of Trent in circumstances, wholly accidental, that occurred at the time of my journey. It was during the latter part of the month of October. On the way from Botzen the country had been ravaged by an inundation of the Adige. Everywhere was a scene of desolation sad to behold. The following morning, on the contrary, just as we were starting for Italy, a glorious sun rose over the city of Trent. The bold summits that surround it were crowned with such lights as are only seen in mountainous countries. Clouds of magic brilliancy hung here and there over the deep gorges and on the heights, the fields had resumed their joyous and smiling aspect, even the traces of the inundation were less sad to behold, and our eyes could linger with a pleasure almost without alloy on the magnificence of nature.

The council of the nineteenth century, for which preparations are now being made at Rome and throughout the civilized world, cannot be less fruitful than that of the sixteenth in the regeneration and salvation of souls. The gravest reasons on every hand appear to justify this hope, and perhaps it is allowable to find a significant sign of it in the happy choice of the place where this great court of Catholicity is to be held. At all events, the basilica of St. Peter is certainly the most suitable theatre in the whole world in which to assemble an œcumenical council. Every thing about it is marvellously adapted to this purpose; every thing seems to reveal a preconceived harmony that divine Providence is so often pleased to manifest in the accomplishment of his august designs. In speaking thus, I only express differently, if I am not mistaken, the idea of Sixtus III. in the fifth century. This pontiff, having convoked in the ancient basilica of St. Peter a certain number of bishops, wrote to Cyril, the patriarch of Alexandria, to announce this synod, and, among other things, wrote these remarkable words: "Ad beatum Petrum Apostolum universa fraternitas convenit. Ecce auditorium congruens auditoribus, conveniens audiendis."[72] "The whole brotherhood meets at the tomb of blessed Peter the Apostle. Behold a place befitting both the hearers and the things to be heard."

It cannot be doubted that this suitability, so well understood by Sixtus III., also occurred to Pius IX., when he designated the tomb of St. Peter as the rendezvous of his brethren in the episcopate. It seems to me desirable that an inscription in a conspicuous place should bear the fine expression of Sixtus III. Its meaning and adaptation with regard to the approaching council would be more strikingly apparent than they could have been at the particular synod of the fifth century.

Let us now enter this august temple and regard with admiration, as we pass, the colossal portico and the vast nave, whose length and height cannot at once be taken in by the unaccustomed eye. Almost at the extremity of the nave, at the right, is the bronze statue of St. Peter, which for more than fourteen centuries has received the homage of pilgrims. Let us not forget to prostrate ourselves after their example, and press our trembling lips to the feet of the apostle, literally worn by the pious kisses of so many generations. A few steps further on, and we stand before the Confession, that is, the glorious sepulchre of the first vicar of Jesus Christ, around which a hundred lights do not cease to burn night and day. After kneeling for a few moments, not without being penetrated by a powerful but sweet emotion which stirs the soul to its very depth, let us rise and look first at the superb baldaquin of gilded bronze which rises to the height of eighty-six feet over the grand altar and the tomb of St. Peter. Above bends over us "the Pantheon raised in the air" by the genius of Michael Angelo—the incomparable dome, measuring one hundred and thirty feet in diameter, and four hundred and twenty-six feet in height on the outside.

If, from this central point of the basilica, we look to the right, we see the northern transept extending more than one hundred and sixty feet from the Confession. The altar at the end is consecrated to the Saints Processus and Martinian—two Roman soldiers, at first jailers of the apostle St. Peter, and then his disciples, baptized by his own hand. "From that time," says the Abbé Gerbet, "the remembrance of these two saints has constantly clung to that of St. Peter, their master and their friend, as the shadow follows the body." Martyred the same year as he, they were buried near the Aurelian way, not far from the Vatican. The antique statue of St. Peter, now venerated in the basilica, was formerly in a monastery connected with the cemetery where these two martyrs reposed. It was afterward placed in the oratory which Pascal I. had erected in their honor in the ancient Vatican basilica, whither he had their relics transported. The ashes of these two jailers of St. Peter always in a manner gravitated around him, until, placed here at his side, they have become for ever his acolytes in this magnificent crypt, as they were his guardians in the dark dungeons of the capitol.[73]

Another glory is in reserve for Saints Processus and Martinian. Before their altar and in the spacious chapel which is dedicated to them are to be held the solemn sessions of the council. Let us hope with firm assurance that these faithful guardians of the first pope, and his immortal acolytes, will keep invisible guard around his successor, and around the bishops, his brethren, when they are reunited in this sanctuary to continue the work of the great Fisher of Souls.

Returning from the altar of Saints Processus and Martinian, before resuming our place by the Confession, let us notice at the left, at the end of the Gregorian chapel, the tomb of Gregory XVI. and the marble statue with his hands raised to bless. Connected with him many interesting thoughts came into my mind. He is the last of the popes who joined the church triumphant. His tomb and that of St. Peter, so near each other, bring before us the two extremities of the great chain of apostolical succession which extends back from our own age to the first Christian era. The intermediate links are known to us all through the authentic records of history, and they are represented here almost entire under our eyes. Look first at the tombs and statues of the greater number of popes since the commencement of the sixteenth century. It is sufficient to name a few of them. There is the funereal monument of Pius VI. at the foot of the staircase leading to the Confession. He merited this post of honor, as has been justly remarked, because he was "the first pope who died from the martyrdom of exile and captivity after the construction of the new basilica." Two other pontiffs, Benedict XIV. and Clement XIII., are entombed close by the transversal nave where the council is to be held. They will be there on each side of the august assembly—the double personification of clerical learning and pontifical firmness. The throne of Pius IX. will almost touch the tomb of Clement XIII. A little further on, in the southern nave, is the monument of one of the greatest pontiffs of the seventeenth century—that of Innocent XI., the firm antagonist of Louis XIV. At the end of the choir, or apsis, the sixteenth century is represented by Paul III. His tomb is at the right of the symbolic chair of St. Peter, which is supported by the four great doctors. He also was worthy of this privileged spot; for his name is indissolubly connected with what have been called "two of the greatest providential events of modern times," (and I can say that the expression is certainly true of the first of these:) he convoked the Council of Trent, and was the first to give his approval to the formation of the Society of Jesus. Among the tombs of the pontiffs of the fifteenth century we select at hazard those of Sixtus IV., Nicholas V., and Eugenius IV., all three rendered illustrious by the great events of their pontificates. The ashes of the two last are in the subterranean church of the Vatican. Only six or seven tombs represent the preceding ages in the upper church. They are those of St. Gregory the Great, St. Leo the Great, Sts. Leo II., III., IV., and IX. The crypts spread before us a much longer list. Conspicuous therein is Boniface VIII., the pontiff who declared the first jubilee of the fourteenth century; and then, going back into the preceding ages, Alexander III.; Calixtus II.; Urban II., the first organizer of the Crusades; St. Nicholas I., one of the men who merited by the most brilliant claims the title of great; Adrian I., the friend of Charlemagne, and celebrated by him in that immortal elegy so worthy of the great pope and of the great emperor, and still to be read in the portico of St. Peter's; St. Agatho, made glorious by the sixth œcumenical council, held at Constantinople; Honorius I., the beautiful inscription on whose tomb so eloquently avenges undeserved calumny; St. Boniface IV., who consecrated the Pantheon; and then a great number of other glorious pontiffs, till we come to St. Simplicius, the second successor of St. Leo the Great. Dating from the latter, there is an interruption of more than two centuries in the pontifical sepulchres of the Vatican. The popes of this time repose in the catacombs, particularly in that of St. Calixtus. But until the year 202 all the others, with the exception of St. Clement I. and of St. Alexander I. in going back from St. Victor to St. Linus, the immediate successor of St. Peter, have been deposited near the Prince of the Apostles in the place where St. Anacletus, even in the first century, constructed "the memorial of the blessed Peter called the Confession," according to the expression of an ancient inscription on the walls of this sacred crypt. When a portion of the pavement was removed in order to construct the monument of Pius VI., the bones of the first successors of the apostle were exposed. Their faces were found turned toward his tomb.

Altogether, the Vatican basilica and its crypts contain the tombs of about one hundred and forty popes. Let us not fail to remark that almost all the others are in the catacombs, or the neighboring churches; only a small number of popes have been buried out of Rome. We have then here, without going out of St. Peter's, the greater part of that dynasty which is the most ancient and the most glorious in the history of the world. I refer to the privilege it possesses—and it alone—of tracing a succession, uninterrupted and of incontestable legitimacy, back to him whom Jesus Christ established as head and foundation of the universal church. Some slight shadows, I know, seem to hover here and there over certain links in this descent of eighteen hundred years, but this cannot disturb an unprejudiced mind for a moment. The glory of the whole line diffuses too powerful and subduing a light for that! Where is the rival church that can show in its history, in its monuments, its temples, and even in its tombs, a succession, a connection, an antiquity, and a proof of catholicity, worthy, I will not say of equalling, but of being compared with this? Christian tradition, the liturgy, the frequent language of schismatical churches themselves, are agreed in giving the pope the name of Apostolic. This name, as well as that of Catholic, of which St. Augustine boasted with such good reason against the Donatists, would alone be a strong title in favor of Rome. At all events, it is the unique and incommunicable privilege of the Roman Church to have been built upon the foundation of the apostles—super fundamentum apostolorum. And this expression of St. Paul, which has not perhaps been sufficiently noticed, is verified at Rome with a fulness of evidence truly wonderful. It has, in truth, pleased Divine Providence to consecrate this church in the eyes of all with the special characteristic of apostolicity, to collect within its walls, if not the entire bodies of all the apostles of Jesus Christ, at least considerable portions of their relics. A part of the bones of St. Paul repose fraternally beside those of St. Peter in the Vatican, and, as if to attest more strongly the brotherhood of these two founders of Christian Rome, a part of the body of St. Peter has been transported to the basilica of St. Paul beyond the walls, and their skulls are placed together at St. John Lateran; both thus taking possession of the three great basilicas of Rome. The bodies of Sts. Simon and Jude are also at the Vatican. Those of St. James the Minor and St. Philip are in the Church of the Holy Apostles, that of St. Matthias at St. Mary Major, and that of St. Bartholomew in the basilica that bears his name. Different churches at Rome possess important relics of other members of the apostolic college, as well as of St. Mark and St. Luke. One apostle delayed longer than the rest joining this rendezvous of the glorious dead, and yet it was only proper, it would seem, that he should be near Simon Peter, for it was his brother in the flesh, his elder brother. But this vacancy was at last filled up by the agency of Him who directs all human events. Toward the middle of the fifteenth century, Thomas Paleologus, King of Peloponnesus, fearing that the head of St. Andrew, preserved until that time in Achaia, would fall into the hands of the Turks, wished to preserve it by confiding it to the Roman Church. At this news great was the joy of the magnanimous pontiff whose name, destined to cast such brilliancy over succeeding ages, was just becoming renowned. Pius II., in order to receive this precious relic, had a procession and ceremonies of extraordinary solemnity, an enthusiastic description of which has been handed down to us in the annals of that time. The sacred head, which the Saviour of the world "had more than once, without doubt, touched with his hands and with his divine lips," (these are the words of Pius II., in an admirable discourse on this occasion,) was placed not far from the tomb of St. Peter, where it remained till a sacrilegious hand dared to carry it away from its sanctuary for a time. But, as is known, Pius IX. had the joy of finding it some days after with the seals intact, and henceforth the homage of the faithful will not cease to offer reparation for the outrage committed.[74] To increase devotion toward St. Andrew, a unique privilege, which had its origin in the delicate inspirations of Christian sentiment, has long been granted to him; the colossal statue of the brother of the Prince of the Apostles stands before the altar of the Confession, and on a level with the three great statues which recall the precious relics of the Saviour's Passion.

Thus, it is evident, the apostolic college is in a manner assembled in the city of Rome. "The legend, according to which all the apostles assembled together to witness the last moments of the Blessed Virgin, has in a manner been verified as to their mortal remains around the tomb of St. Peter. The first council of Jerusalem seems to be held here permanently."[75]

This idea appears to me to give an admirably beautiful significance to one of the most solemn prayers of the liturgy which is chanted at the mass of the apostles and especially on the festivals of Sts. Peter and Paul. Imagine that we hear resounding the voice of Pius IX., of a compass and harmony equal to the basilica itself, which it fills with its powerful undulations. Listen to this prayer which he addresses the eternal Shepherd: Gregem tuum, Pastor æterne, non deseras, sed per beatos apostolos tuos continua protectione custodias; ut iisdem rectoribus gubernetur quos operis tui vicarios eidem contulisti præesse pastores. "Desert not, O eternal Shepherd, thy flock, but through the blessed apostles grant it thy unceasing protection; that it may be governed by those rulers whom thou hast appointed to continue thy work and to be the pastors of thy people." Does it not seem that the truly providential presence of the sacred relics of all the apostles at Rome is like a continual reply of Jesus Christ to the supplication of his high-priest? Or raise your eyes toward the radiant dome, as Pius IX. often loves to do while he is chanting, and while the sursum corda of his soul is manifested by his looks, do you not behold the mosaics gleaming there on high like celestial apparitions? See the eternal Shepherd who does not cease to watch over his flock, and around him his blessed apostles, his vicars on earth, who now from the highest heavens continue to protect and govern the lambs and sheep of the divine fold.

I have not yet had the great Christian joy of assisting at the festival of St. Peter in the basilica itself; but on another occasion I experienced in the same place, leaning against the balustrade of the Confession, a joy almost comparable. It was on Palm-Sunday, when the choristers of the Sistine chapel made the arches resound with the grand and solemn affirmations of the Catholic Credo. I shall never forget the quiver that passed through my frame when I heard resounding these simple words as they were taken up one after another: et unam—sanctam—Catholicam—et apostolicam—ecclesiam ... "and one—holy—Catholic—and apostolic—church." Then my eyes were irresistibly attracted toward the dome, and through the light which at that moment flooded it I had a sight of the glorious figures with which it is adorned, and which appeared to me like a reflection of the church triumphant in the heavens. Then I recalled the gorgeous procession I had just seen pass through the grand nave of the basilica—Pius IX. borne on his Sedia Gestatoria, and before him the imposing cortége of cardinals, bishops, and prelates, all bearing in their hands the triumphal palms—and it seemed to me that this immense inclosure expanded to a still larger size, or rather, its walls vanished and gave place to the church universal dispersed in the four quarters of the globe, but all bound to the tomb of St. Peter, in perpetual communion with him, receiving from him by a constant influence its divine characteristics of unity, sanctity, catholicity, and apostolicity, living by his faith and his love, ruled and governed by his authority, and always spiritually present where he is to be found, according to the words of St. Ambrose, the truth of which I had never comprehended so fully, Ubi Petrus, ibi ecclesia! "Where Peter is, there is the church."

But let us leave these retrospective ideas and evocations, and rather endeavor to discover in the basilica of St. Peter the visible signs of unity, sanctity, and catholicity, as well as of apostolicity, the authentic marks of which we have just noticed.

And first, let us read around the dome these words in colossal letters on a golden ground of mosaic, Tu es Petrus; et super hanc petram ædificabo ecclesiam mea; et tibi dabo claves regni cœlorum. "Thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church; and I will give to thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven." And a little lower on the frieze, above the two pillars of the choir, these words recently placed on a similar ground, Hinc una fides mundo refulget, "Hence one faith shines upon the world;" to correspond with which these other words are hereafter to be engraved above the opposite pillars, Hinc sacerdotii unitas exoritur, "Hence the unity of the priesthood arises." There is a symbolic commentary on this last inscription in the urn placed on the tomb of St. Peter. It contains the palliums which the pope sends to the metropolitans. They are kept in this place to signify that that is the origin and source of all jurisdiction and all ecclesiastical authority. This urn and these inscriptions are sufficient to make us understand the whole mystery of Catholic unity. This unity, indeed, is comprehended in the decisive words which established Peter as the foundation of the church and confided to him the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Peter thus became the true representative of Jesus Christ and the personification, so to speak, of the divine authority. And he himself in his turn transmitted this plenitude of power to the Roman pontiff, his successor, his inheritor, his universal legatee, thus living again, as it were, in his successor, investing him with his authority, and communicating to him by a continued operation the full and entire power of feeding, directing, and governing the universal church, according to the dogmatic definition of the Council of Florence. From this centre of power the apostolic authority extends through all ranks of the hierarchy, and by a wonderful ubiquity is diffused without being weakened to the lowest grades of the Catholic priesthood. Patriarchs, primates, metropolitans, archbishops, and bishops throughout the world are all armed with the plenitude of this authority; all derive from this source their jurisdiction and the legitimate exercise of their rights; all, as they love to acknowledge, govern their own churches "by the grace of God and of the apostolic see." And this is why throughout the church there is the same government, the same doctrine, the same administration of the sacraments and divine worship. There is but one rule of government; for, as Bossuet (who was always incomparable when the whole truth illumined his soul) has somewhere said, "There is such a sympathy in all parts of the body of the church, that what each bishop does according to the rule and spirit of Catholic unity, the whole church, the entire episcopate and the chief bishop, does with him." There is the same doctrine; for the Roman see teaches all others, and these again all the faithful, or, to express it better, the different grades of teachers (it is still Bossuet who speaks) "have only one doctrine, by reason of the necessary connection they have with the chair which Peter and his successors have always occupied."[76] Finally, the administration of the sacraments and the divine worship are the same; for the central authority of Peter intervenes in some manner in all the sacramental functions, whether to render them legitimate, or, as is seen in the ministry of the confessional, to make them efficacious and valid; and besides, it is only in communion with Peter that God accepts the offering of the divine sacrifice as well as all other acts of worship and prayer.

The perfect unity that reigns in the hierarchy and the government of the church engenders a not less perfect unity in the entire body of the faithful. Indeed, all the members of the church are reunited and bound together by means of the central authority of Peter, always present in the pope, and, through him, in all the representatives of the episcopal hierarchy. All the faithful recognize this peculiar authority as that of Jesus Christ. It is by submission and obedience to it that they rise when fallen. It is by faith in this authority and its depositaries of every degree that they receive the teachings of the true faith. It is to this they have recourse in order to be admitted to the participation of the sacraments and all the treasures of the church. And thus all, whoever they may be, remain attached to this authority by the intelligence that affirms the same truth, the will that observes the same law, and the heart that draws from the same sources of life; a unity of faith, of obedience, and of the sacraments—a triple unity realized by Jesus Christ and his vicar, to whom all hearts, all inclinations, and all minds adhere as luminous rays to their centre and source. It is true that this adhesion has not among all the same strength and efficacy; sometimes it is purely exterior, and yet it exists in a certain manner till the rupture is consummated either by excommunication or by manifest schism and heresy. But, thanks be to God, the number of the faithful is always immense in whom this union is full and entire. And they accomplish thereby a mystery of unity still more close and wonderful than that which we have just considered. It is given to the authority of Peter, who visibly unites the faithful, to bind them also together invisibly by the ineffable tie of the communion of saints—the crown and full consummation of unity. But no; the vicar of Christ has yet another privilege by virtue of the power that he has received of binding and loosing in heaven as well as on earth—he opens the entrance to the eternal mansions. The souls submissive till the end to his authority, and ruled by the power of his attraction, rise and mount to become living stones in the harmonious construction of the celestial temple:

Fabri polita malleo,
Hanc saxa molem construunt,
Aptisque juncta nexibus,
Locantur in fastigio.

"This vast edifice, even to the pediment, is composed of stones polished by the mallet of the workman and skilfully joined together."

It is thus that the gigantic edifice of the Vatican dome, after taking root around the tomb of the apostles, springs up from the soil on its four enormous supports, binding them together by the key-stone of its vast arches, and then, gathering itself together, rises more and more resplendent, more and more transfigured, till, at the moment of uniting all its ascending lines, it half opens to form a sublime sanctuary around the Ancient of Days, whose form beams forth from its very top.

It is grand to assist in the basilica of St. Peter at one of these solemnities which are like splendid foreshadowings of the future state of souls in their glorious union with God. Behold around the choir the inscriptions engraved on marble. They recall the dearest and most solemn festival that has yet been celebrated in our age—the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception. That day witnessed under these arches the triumph of Catholic unity, as well as the triumph of the Virgin conceived without sin. The accounts of ocular witnesses, still remembered by all, have made us familiar with that great manifestation of the cor unum and the anima una, of the "one heart" and "one soul," when, at a word from Pius IX., the act of faith, full, absolute, and unanimous, burst forth in loving tones from the hearts of the two hundred prelates and bishops, and the multitudes of priests reunited in this basilica, then resounded with one accord from the souls of forty or fifty thousand of the faithful likewise assembled in the same church, and was prolonged in repeated echoes from the lips of the two hundred millions of Catholics scattered throughout the world. Since that time two or three manifestations almost as glorious have been made in this basilica, and in all cases the great episcopal hierarchy, represented by a vast deputation, have inclined before the word of their august chief, believing what he believes, approving what he approves, and condemning what he condemns; and in all cases also the universal voice of true Catholics, whether present at Rome bodily or only in spirit and in heart, has risen to hail with one acclamation the infallible decisions of the successor of Peter.

But how can we forget the last festival, so sweetly and deliciously touching, which has just been celebrated in this grand basilica? That also was a brilliant manifestation and triumph of unity; of that unity the sweetest and most beautiful of all others—that of brethren of the great Catholic family around their father and their pope, to celebrate with him the golden wedding of his old age so long and painfully tried, but ever courageous and serene, and always blessed by God. There were mingled people of all ages, of every condition, and, morally speaking, of every race and nation on the globe. And these representatives of all nations, divided among themselves not less by distance than by their interests, prejudices, and hereditary enmities, and perhaps—who knows?—on the point of renewing old fratricidal struggles, drawn in against their will by the calculations of human policy—they were all there, drawn together and united by mutual love for their common father! And doubtless there was among them another source of division. I refer to divergence of opinions—opinions more or less correct, more or less at variance with the truth. There are always such in the bosom of Catholic unity. But admire the strength of this unity, remaining still intact in the midst of these elements of discord. We know that every assent given to mere opinions is necessarily conditional in this sense—that every Catholic worthy of the name is always ready to yield them to the teachings of revealed truth. Adhesion to the faith, on the contrary, is absolute, without condition or reserve, and moreover, this adhesion extends not only to the truths that the church requires us directly and expressly to believe, but also to the whole order of truths contained in the depository of revelation. What takes place, then, when the soul of the believer finds himself clinging to an erroneous opinion? That which happens in the physical order when two forces are in opposition to one another—the more feeble is absorbed by the overruling force. By virtue of the same law of moral dynamics, faith, which is an absolute affirmation, neutralizes and absorbs an erroneous opinion, which is only a conditional affirmation; in other terms, the latter is disavowed—retracted by the very fact that he makes a genuine act of faith. And this is how, among Catholics, the unity of the faith bursts forth and triumphs even in the midst of the causes that would seem to destroy, or at least to modify, it.

You will not expect me to describe this sacerdotal festival in detail. It was at once solemn and grand, as well as simple, popular, and affecting. Besides, other accounts have made you as familiar with all this as it is possible to be with what is indescribable. I will only select from the wonderful whole one thing which perhaps escaped general attention. It was at the moment when the grandest Te Deum I ever heard was resounding beneath the arches of the basilica like the voice of the great deep. When this verse of the Ambrosian hymn was being chanted, Te per orbem terrarum sancta confitetur ecclesia!—"The holy church acknowledges thee throughout the whole earth"—Pius IX. raised his hands to his eyes as if to collect his thoughts. It was as if his mind wandered off from one hemisphere to the other—to every region where there is a Catholic church—and saw the entire world communing in thought with him, praying with him, and with him rendering glory and thanksgiving to God. And indeed, as you know, at that same hour, millions of souls scattered over the globe were united in a general concert of prayer in order to join themselves more completely to him who was more than ever the great Chief of Prayer, as the savages of the new world sublimely style the vicar of Jesus Christ.

I can boldly declare that in no time, no place, did any man, any king and father of a nation, any pontiff, perhaps any saint, have such an ovation, such a manifestation of universal love; and I say further that this was not merely a triumph, but a miracle of supernatural union in the church—a miracle doubtless presaging still greater to come.

I have said that this jubilee of Pius IX. drew representatives from the whole Catholic world to Rome. The city of unity was on that day also the city of Catholicity par excellence. This last characteristic, however, Rome does not manifest only on extraordinary occasions, but permanently by its physical and moral position. "If a nation possessed a cathedral surrounded by a portico to which each province had furnished an arcade or column which bore its name, this monument would be a harmonious emblem of the diversity to be found in the unity of this people. There is something analogous to this in the Christian world." In the shadow of the great basilica of the popes most nations have their church, their festivals, and their national tombs. Each one finds some sacred monument bearing on the history of his country. Every one breathes here, in the atmosphere of religion, his native air. National establishments, reunited in the same city by political or commercial interests, represent concord less than division. Counting-rooms are rivals, altars are brethren. This is one cause of the sentiment that almost every one experiences who lives for some time in Rome, far from his native country. "Nowhere does one feel so much at home as in this city."[77] If one comes from a remote province of Lower Brittany or from the extremities of Ireland, from the depths of Ethiopia, the Indies, or the two Americas, he finds everywhere sanctuaries, tombs, institutions, offerings ex-voto, and indeed all kinds of mementoes that recall the far-off country. The prelacy, the priesthood, and the religious orders have representatives from all countries. The army itself has a cosmopolitan character. You see there, under the noble garb of the Zouave, the dark skin of the African beside the white face of the Dutchman or Canadian. Whoever you may be, you are sure not to be wholly isolated or unknown. Soon a familiar accent or an unforeseen accident will reveal a compatriot or a friend. It is impossible to forget your country; it becomes dearer to you than ever. You appreciate it perhaps more fully, but the narrowness of your former attachment is destroyed by contact with the broad spirit of Catholicity which penetrates you.

He who has the leisure to examine certain statistics will find at Rome evidences of Catholicity even in examining the list of travellers, or the missives of the mails, or even the catalogues of gifts sent to the holy father, and especially that of the offerings he recently received for the jubilee of his priesthood. All this and many other things constantly verify a proverb now misinterpreted, and too trivial to be quoted, but which the ancients expressed very nobly, "All roads lead to Rome." There is this difference—the roads leading to the Rome of Sts. Peter and Paul are far more extended than those of the Rome of Romulus and Remus. What one only accomplished by force of arms, the other has effected by the universality of evangelical preaching.

Without leaving the Vatican basilica we can discover, on all sides, authentic proofs of this universality. On the day of solemn functions, when the pope celebrates the holy sacrifice, a Greek deacon officiates beside a Latin deacon, and chants the Gospel in the language of St. Luke. A Greek archbishop also assists at it as well as one of the Armenian Church. The Syriac Church has also its ministers at the holy see. The presence of these bishops and these priests of different rites is not a mere spectacle unsustained by reality. They are representatives of churches scattered throughout the East.[78] We have many other reflections to make on this subject, but they must be reserved, with a thousand things, till a future time. See now, on the tablet that perpetuates the remembrance of the formal decision respecting the Immaculate Conception, the names of the bishops who were present. The titles of a great number of their churches would be vainly sought for in the ancient diptychs. They assert the presence of the Catholic hierarchy in regions unknown to the fathers of Nice or even of Trent. See, further on, the confessionals ranged around the southern transept; the inscriptions they bear notify you that there are penitentiaries and confessors who speak all the principal languages of Europe, including that of Greece. Behold also a bas-relief, peculiarly significant, under the statue of Gregory XVI. It is symbolical of the most glorious event of his reign—the institution of the work of the propagation of the faith. At the feet of the pontiff are the types of almost all races, who render him their tributes of veneration and gratitude. There is another idea under this symbol: it shows that the see of Peter is the source of the apostolic missions, the centre of a power which is expansive and subjugating, and the focus of that divine light which seeks to be diffused throughout the entire heart of humanity.

It is in truth from Rome that the great evangelizers of nations have set out. To mention here only a few, and not the most ancient, Patrick, the apostle of Ireland, wished, as is said in his Acts, "to repair to the see founded on a rock. He wished to comprehend more fully the canonical laws of the holy Roman Church, and obtain for his mission and his labors the strength derived from the apostolic authority." He came then to the tomb of the holy apostles, and set out again with the benediction of Pope St. Celestin I., as at a later date the monk Augustin departed, sent by St. Gregory I. to evangelize England. Another pope of the same name, St. Gregory II., had the glory of conferring his blessing on the monk Wilfrid, the great apostle of Germany. He summoned him to his presence in the church of St. Peter, and consecrated him bishop after having changed his name to Boniface. After his consecration, he placed in the Confession of St. Peter a writing that ended with these words:

"I, Boniface, an unworthy bishop, have written with my own hand this paper containing my oath of fidelity, and, in placing it on the sacred body of St. Peter, I promise to keep this vow before God, who is my witness and my judge."...

St. Corbinian, who was also one of the first preachers of Christianity in Germany; St. Amandus, who preached on the shores of the Garonne, the Escaut, and the Danube, and St. Kilian, who evangelized Franconia, came likewise to prostrate themselves at the Confession of St. Peter, whence set forth in other times Paul, Formosus, Donatus, Leo, and Marinus, sent by Pope Nicholas I. among the Bulgarians; Egidius, Bishop of Tusculum, sent to Poland by Pope John XIII.; and Willibald, Prochorius, etc., who received an apostolic mission to Vandalia.[79] Let us also mention St. Anscharius, who was sent by Gregory IV. as legate to the Swedes, Danes, Icelanders, and all the northern nations. Two other apostles who evangelized a great race, now, alas! almost entirely given over to schism, kindled their missionary ardor at the tomb of the Prince of the Apostles. After having commenced their apostolic labors among the Sclaves, St. Cyril and St. Methodius came to Rome to receive episcopal consecration, and celebrated here the first mass in the Sclavonic language.[80] Then, their second evangelical expedition being terminated, they both returned to Rome. One of them, Cyril, died here, and his tomb, placed beside that of Pope St. Clement, remains as a perpetual memorial of his attachment to the centre of unity and of Catholicity.

It would take too long to mention here the names of all the other apostles who set forth from Rome before or after the most illustrious of all—St. Francis Xavier. We will only remark that the numerous pupils that the Roman ecclesiastical seminaries have sent on a mission never fail to kindle their zeal at the Confession of the Prince of the Apostles.

One of these seminaries requires special notice, because it is in itself a proof of Catholicity and of the principle which engenders a Catholic spirit. I wish you could have been present, as I was, at the festival that the Propaganda celebrated on the Sunday in the octave of the Epiphany. You would have heard speak or chant in their own languages Greeks, Syrians, and I know not how many from other nations—even a negro from Senegambia, who was not applauded the least, for, though his wolof was understood by hardly any one, his powerful and pathetic voice made an extraordinary impression on the whole audience. A composition in verse, recited some years ago at one of these exhibitions, sets forth in a happy manner the peculiar character of this house. Here is an extract from it which you will not read without pleasure: