This little book is the only one which deals with the present position of the Catholic Church in Russia, and it is a good book, well-written, and filled with valuable information which is not to be found elsewhere.

Miss Almedingen is a young Russian lady, a graduate of Petrograd University, and a convert to Catholicism from Orthodoxy. She was received into the Church by the late Mgr, Budkiewicz; and the touching story she tells in Appendix II is probably the story of her own conversion. Otherwise there is an utter absence of the personal note, and perhaps this is just as well; but some day, I hope, the authoress will be persuaded to tell the story of her own life in Russia during the Red Terror: if she does tell it, I can promise the English reader that it will surpass in interest most of the fiction that has been written for years.

Miss Almedingen gives a short but very interesting account of the Catholic churches in Petrograd and Moscow, and especially of Mgr. Budkiewicz’s church of St. Catherine on the Nevsky Prospect. St. Catherine’s was built for the Dominicans at the end of the eighteenth century, but afterwards passed into the hands of the Jesuits, who collected in the great library attached to the church (and which still contains a magnificent full-length portrait of the Angelic Doctor) over two hundred thousand books, many of them extremely valuable. When the Jesuits were expelled from Russia, the Tzarist Government confiscated most of the books and transferred them to the great public library on the other side of the Nevsky; die church itself it restored to the Dominicans, but that Order abandoned it—why, I do not know—and for many years past it has been in the hands of Polish secular priests.

Under the title, The Inquisition, Mr. Hoffman Nickerson has written a book which has very little direct bearing on the Inquisition itself: it does something much more useful than a direct treatise could do : it describes the formation of the temper of mind that brought the Inquisition into being. Add to this that the book has a preface by Mr. Hilaire Belloc, and you have a sufficiently good understanding of its tone and spirit. Indeed, it is almost uncanny to notice the many sympathies of idea, of style, and of phrase between the writer of the preface and the writer of the book. We feel convinced that it would be easy to quote passages from the book, so choice, so determined, so much in the grand manner as to deceive even devoted followers of Mr. Belloc into thinking him the author of what are only the charming creations of Mr. Nickerson.

Furthermore, you must know that Mr. Nickerson is an American. You think at once of the immense tomes of Henry C. Lea on the iniquities of the Inquisition and you wonder what there can be in so grim and venerable a tribunal to attract the attention of Americans. What has attracted Mr. Lea in the subject we can guess, but we are not left to guesswork to discover why Mr. Nickerson has devoted himself unremittingly to this particular task. In his dedicatory letter he tells us himself the genesis of the book

A latin country which is not Catholic is an anomaly; but Rumania, proud of her Roman descent, language, and traditions, got her Christianity from Byzantium, and was, together with the rest of Eastern Europe, drawn into the Byzantian schism. The Rumanians trace their origin to Trajan, who transformed this fertile land of Dacia into a Roman colony that maintained its racial distinctiveness from the third century to the present day. Transylvania was the cradle of the race, but through the usual vicissitudes entailed by invading hordes and changing alien domination, Dacia was broken up and had a chequered history like her Slav neighbours, with whom she never merged. The capital of ancient Dacia was Alba Julia, situated in Transylvania, and it was in this historic village instead of in modern Bucarest, actual capital of Rumania, that the Rumanian sovereigns were lately crowned. Thus was accentuated the re-union of the three provinces, Moldavia, Valachia and Transylvania, once more into a single State. The ceremony naturally gave offence to Hungary, who had held Transylvania for centuries, and the Hungarian citizens that dwell in these regions viewed the proceedings with disfavour.

Yet Hungary had never been successful in her attempt to Magyarize the persistent Latins who form the majority of the population. King Hermann, who was forced by his nobles to grant the Golden Bull, Hungary’s Magna Charta, took little count of the cowed natives, but invited the Saxons to settle in the land in order to counterpoise the turbulent feudal chiefs.

In the palmy days of the fourteenth century, when Can Grande ruled at Verona, there lay between the Adige and the Brenta a little town called Borgo Sant’ Ignoto. Being mainly Ghibelline in sympathy, it shared in all the triumphs of the conquering Veronesi; and its citizens did considerably more than look on when Can Grande beat the Paduans (who held for the Pope) near Vicenza, and changed the colour of all the neighbouring rivers from jade-green to red.

Borgo Sant’ Ignoto, though it was only a little place, waxed quite fat on the spoils; and the monastery of Sant’ Ignoto himself—which, though the principal shrine of the town, was perched on an abrupt little hill just above it—was fairly set ablaze by the candles of the survivors and endowed (it was hoped in perpetuity) by the broad lands of the slain. Moreover, the captains of the people, anxious to prove that they were none the less devout for supporting the Emperor, voted a handsome gift to the Saint who had seen them (after a few prudent tergiversations) safely through on the winning side. This gift took the form of a mighty terrace, quarried out of the solid rock to the right of the shrine and encircled with a parapet of stone. From this vantage point, the ascended pilgrim, either before or after his devotions to Sant’ Ignoto, might survey the full extent of the territory captured by Can Grande and watch—if the peace lasted long enough—the ensanguined rivers of Vicenza resuming their natural green.

Now according to the teaching of St. Thomas,” there are three fashions of obtaining wealth which disqualify it for being given as alms—pillage, theft and usury.

The publisher’s announcement of this work lays some stress on the fact that its author, Mr. M. J. Nicolson, is ‘the son of the well-known writer of the “Indian Love Lyrics,” “The Garden of Kama,” etc.,’ and that ‘if heredity counts for anything, (he) stands a chance of possessing literary gifts.’ Many critics will be inclined to hesitate before granting that the popularity of the ‘The Indian Love Lyrics’ is due to their literary merit. Their appeal is based to a minor extent upon their exotic flavour and Eastern fragrance. They appeal rather to sensuality than sense. It was only when a few of them were exalted into a song-cycle that they won popular esteem, and this, surely, for the charm of the musical setting, rather than for any literary quality of their own. So that on the grounds of heredity alone, Mr. Nicolson’s claim to ‘literary gifts’ would appear to be extremely doubtful. He certainly does possess these gifts. But they are not just those ascribed to the ‘Garden of Kama.’

The only cumbrous thing about his lyrical drama is its title. Presumably it would have been against the interests of the play to have called it simply ‘The Death of Prince Hassan.’ But that is what its title should have been, as it will be in the minds of those who have read it. The argument that it would have ‘given the show away’ is more commercial than artistic. It is often more interesting to see a man die than live. As a compromise, with ‘Julius Caesar’ in mind, ‘Prince Hassan’ might have been sufficient.

The outstanding anomaly of the lyrical drama is that the lyrics themselves are its weakest part.

High God now brings His word to pass;

In a manger laid, ‘twixt the ox and the ass, That blissful Babe is born in byre,

While angel hosts this carol quire,

In excelsis gloria!

Shepherds their flocks by night that fold And “wondering orient kings behold That Lord the Heaven of heavens resigned, Stars in a mother’s eyes to find :

Stella matutinal

E. Hamilton Moore.

The following statements of doctrine occur in the book Mysterium Fidei, by the Rev. Maurice de la Taille, S.J. (Paris: Gab. Beauchesne, 1921).

(1) Coena ig-itur et Crux inter se complent. Ini coena incoeptum est sacrificium illud quod in cruce erat consummandum.

(2) Reperitur immolationis realitas in passione mortis. At in symbolica immalatione coenae elucet potissimum oblationis liturgicae proprietas.

(1) The Last Supper and the Cross are complementary. At the Last Supper was begun that sacrifice which was to be consummated on the Cross.

(2) The reality of Immolation is found in the suffering of Death. But in the symbolical immolation of the Last Supper is especially shown the quality of the liturgical Oblation.

(3) Unum proinde numero fuit sacrificium redemptionis in cruce et in coena.

Non computandum unum sacrificium preliminarium in coena ; alterum in cruce succidaneum.

Sed in coenaculo incruenta oblatio fiebat cruentae immolationis in Calvaria perpetiendae.

(3) Hence the Sacrifice of redemption on the Cross and at the Supper was one.

Nor must it be reckoned a preliminary sacrifice at the Supper; and another subsequent on the Cross.

But in the Supper room’ there was made the unbloody Oblation of the bloody Immolation to be made on Calvary.

(4) Unitas ilia ex oblatione eucharistica et immolatione cruenta non est ... in genere rei; sed profecto est in genere signi.

Est unitas in genere sacrificii; et sacrificium ut tale est inter signa recensetur.

(4) This unity from the eucharistic Oblation and the bloody Immolation is not in the order of things, but in the order of signs.

It is a unity in the order of Sacrifice; and Sacrifice, as such, is to be classed as a sign.

If there is one truth which comes home to a convert with special force it is this, aut pati aut mori, we must either suffer or perish. Every spiritual writer and every convert must often echo the great truth,

‘no cross, no crown.’ Per crucem ad lucem, la bonne souffrance, durch Leiden Freude—"it runs through the tongues of Christendom. Our Blessed Lady thus spoke to St. Bridget ‘To alleviate the first of your troubles. I offer you three subjects of consolation : firstly, the necessity of suffering, imposed upon all who dwell upon earth. Consider that the animals, who, when they die, become extinct, are themselves subject to great sufferings, but your soul will live for ever.’

Even the wiser pagans recognised dimly that suffering may be both expiatory and educational—

th, iraOrjfiaTa pad t) par a.—

that it was to be borne with resignation even when it took the form of human injustice :

Owto? K panaris ear avfjp, 3) Topyia, oaris dBiiceiadai irkeiar imararai ftpor&v

1 The Revelations of St. Bridget, Bk. I, Ch. xi (Eng-. Transl., 1873, p. 20).

Regarding the destiny of animals, Our Blessed Lord said to St. Bridget: ‘For this reason, objects purely spiritual appear to you only in corporal forms; angels and blessed souls under those of living men, and demons under the forms of animals and other creatures; but having only an. appearance of life, for animals become extinct when they die, and even the life of devils is a perpetual death’ (Ibid., Bk. II, Ch. v, p. 69).

Menander, quoted in. Aristophanis Comoediae (Paris, Didot, 1860) p. 10, at the end of the volume.

Here I make oath—

Although the heart that knows its bitterness Hear loath,

And credit less—

That he who kens to meet Pain’s kisses fierce Which hiss against his tears,

Dread, loss, nor love frustrate,

Nor all iniquity of the froward years Shall his inured wing make idly bate,

Nor of the appointed quarry his staunch sight To lose observance quite;

Seal from half-sad and half-elate Sagacious eyes Ultimate Paradise;

Nor shake his certitude of haughty fate.

Pacing the burning shares of many dooms,

I with stern tread do the clear-witting stars To judgement cite,

If I have borne aright

The proving of their pure-willed ordeal.

From food of all delight

The heavenly Falconer my heart debars,

And tames with fearful glooms The haggard to His call;

Yet sometimes comes a hand, sometimes a voice withal,

And she sits meek now, and expects the light.

In this Avernian sky,

This sultry and incumbent canopy Of dull and doomed regret;

Where on the unseen verges yet, O yet,

At intervals,

Trembles, and falls,

Faint lightning of remembered transient sweet—

Ah, far too sweet

But to be sweet a little, a little sweet, and fleet; Leaving this pallid trace,

This loitering and most fitful light, a space,

Still some sad space,

For Grief to see her own poor face :—

Here where I keep my stand With all o’er-anguished feet,

And no live comfort near on any hand;

Lo, I proclaim the unavoided term,

When this morass of tears, then drained and firm, Shall be a land—

Unshaken I affirm—

Where seven-quired psalterings meet;

And all the gods move with calm hand in hand, And eyes that know not trouble and the worm.

Francis Thompson.

Etsi is qui curis angi cor sentit amaris Verba mea invitus planeque incredulus audit, Firmus in haec juro : quisquis saeva oscula fati, Oscula prae lacrimis madido stridentia vultu, Fortiter excipiet, non ilium damna, metusve,

Non spe lapsus amor, nec iniqui temporis ictus, Cogent, ceu volucrem, validas demittere pennas, Nec sua quaesita deflectent lumina praeda:—

Lumina maesta quidem, sed toto acerrima nisu Erecta in metam, caelestia regna, supremam.

I Hi non nutat celsi fiducia fati.

En humus ardenti strata est mihi vomere multo Qua spatior lente reus; at vestigia figens Fortia, me caelo speculantia, sidera testor Sancti judicii me rite subisse rigorem.

En, velut accipitri, gratam mihi denegat escam,

Et diris mentem tenebris domat in sua jussa, Vincla recusantem, summi Venator Olympi:

At manus interdum palpat delapsa per umbram, Seu vox auditur veluti mulcentis, et ipsa Nunc mansueta sedet, venturae praescia lucis. Etsi igitur, desideriis damnatus acerbis,

Hie sub Avernali traducam tempora caelo,

Fervet ubi obscuro sub tegmine languidus aer; Quamvis nil videam, nisi cum procul ultima rura Fulgure forte micant, spissis obducta tenebris;— (Haud secus extremas propter caliginis oras Incertam trepidare videt mens excita lucem, Succurrit quoties olim mihi nota voluptas Ilia, voluptatis veniens de fonte perenni;

Suavis enim fuerat, sed velocissima fugit;

At non quantumvis velox, ita transiit ut me Paulisper tantum, nunquam reditura, juvaret; Pallida cunctantis linquens vestigia lucis,

Quae menti tristi sua tristia redderet ora;)—

At sic lassatis consistens hie ego plantis,

Hie ubi nullum animal vivit, quo cuncta trahantur Vaticinor, rebus quis ineluctabilis ordo.

Scilicet adveniet tempus cum squalida tellus,

Haec invisa palus, lacrimis mortalibus uda, Praebebit siccata solum (certissima pando),

Ilia ubi caelicolum psallent simul agmina septem, Dlque omnes placide, manibus per mutua nexis, Incedent, victis et cura et morte sereni.

+ Geo. Amb. Cl.