BOOK S.

FREDERIC OZANAM.* Miss O'MEARA has given us in this volume a very graphic sketch of the life of the chief founder of the modern Society of St. Vincent de Paul, the great charitable organisation which has had for its object to draw together the rich and poor of our own days, and which has multiplied so rapidly in the short space of forty-four years, that it has now rooted itself effectually in France, Belgium, Spain, Italy, and England, as well as, we believe, in one or two other countries. The young lawyer,—half-poet, half-saint, all scholar—to whose passionate religious zeal and conviction that faith without works is as dead now as St. James pronounced it to be at the commencement of our era, this Society mainly owed its origin, and that at a time when he was still a boy of twenty,

* Frederic Ozanam, Professor at the Sorbonne, his Life and Works. By Kathleen O'Meara. Edinburgh : Edmonton and Douglas. 1876.

always repudiated the title of founder. And no doubt he hid seven colleagues in his enterprise, but it was certainly his strong feeling which first brought them together for practical work. The St. Simonian students of the time would always gladly admit the glory of the Church's past, but they would ask Ozanam and the young Catholics of the day to show what fruits their faith produced now amongst men, and tell them their religion was a dead tree. This reproach told powerfully on Ozanam's mind,

and he it was who said to his Catholic friends :—" It is all very well talking and arguing and holding one's own against them, but why cannot we do something '" And it was by way of finding some practical answer to this reproach that the little meeting of eight friends, which has now spread so far and done so much to soften the dogmatic spirit both amongst Catholics and the poor who repudiate Catholicism, took place, in the month of May,

1833, while Ozanam was still a law-student at Paris. " The rules of the Society were simple, but stringent. It was forbidden to discuss politics or personal concerns at the meetings ; these topics were not even to be mentioned indirectly ; the Society was never to be made use of as a stepping-stone to worldly advancement. . . Nothing of the sort was to be tolerated in the new confraternity ; no selfish principle was to inspire its action ; it was to be animated only by charity, by love of God, and of suffer- ing humanity, without any kind of reference to self. The same spirit was to preside at the weekly conferences [meet- ings] ; there was to be no display of eloquence or learn- ing, nothing but the reports of the work, summed up in a business-like manner, and the interests of the poor discussed in brief and simple language. The service of the members embraced the sick and infirm, and those who were out of work from some just cause, either illness or external conditions not of their own making ; every precaution was taken against the help of the society being diverted into unworthy channels, and serving as an encouragement to idleness and pauperism." Such was the society of which Frederic Ozanam was at least the chief of the eight founders, and the conception of which did not enter his

head till exactly half of his short life was already passed. Yet before his death—so well suited was it to the genius of the time, and let us frankly admit also to the genius of the Roman Catholic Church—there were five hundred branches of the Society in France, and in Paris alone its adherents had increased from eight to two thousand, while in Italy, Spain, Belgium, England, and also

in Palestine, there were flourishing off-shoots. Even during his last illness, while he was slowly wasting away in Italy, Ozanam gave the last great efforts of his life to the quicken- ing of some of the Italian branches of the Society, and the foundation of a new one in the beautiful city of Siena, in spite of the discouragement with which his proposals were received ; and there is hardly anything more beautiful in the memoir than the letter, half-playful, half-passionate, and full of that exquisite tact which is never so perfect as when it is religious, which had the effect of carrying all obstacles before it, and estab- lishing a new branch of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul in the lovely, sunny, indolent town to which the Grand Duke of Tuscany had justthen transferred half of the youth of the University of Pisa. This was in 1853. Ozanam had visited Siena on purpose, when quite too ill to do so without injury to himself, but his ardour had not prevailed against the prudence of the most benevolent Professor and the most influential priest of Siena. Padre Pendola did notwish to try and fail, and he kept repeating to Ozanam that the young nobles of Tuscany were too soft and too idle to carry out any undertaking to visit the poor. So Ozanam had to go away in despondency, saying to his friends, " I am no longer good for any-

thing ; God will not deign to make use of me any more." Yet he did make another effort by letter, and the effort was a success :— " He wrote to Padre Pendola, adjuring him to yield to his entreaties,

and take the cause of his beloved confraternity in hand All that you have done for myself and my little family, touched me less, reverend father, than the hope you held out to me at the last in favour of St. Vincent de Paul. This dear Society is also my family. Next to God, it was the means of preserving my faith, after I left my good and pions parents. I love it, therefore, and cling to it with all my heart ; it has been a joy to roe to see the good seed growing and prospering in Tuscan soil. Above all, I have seen it do so much good, sustain so many young men in the path of virtue, and inspire a smaller number with such wonderful zeal! We have conferences at Quebec and in Mexico. We have them in Jerusalem. We most certainly have one in Paradise, for during the twenty years that we have existed at least a thousand members have taken the road to a better world. How, then, is it possible that we should not have one at Siena, which is called the

antechamber of Paradise? Dear and estimable friend, I send you, in the Bulletin of the Society, some excellent instructions on the 'formation of conferences in houses of education.' Assuredly your ex- variance needs not to be enlightened Soon your best young amen, divided into little batches of three and four, and accompanied by a

master, will be nimbly ascending the poor man's stairs, and you will see them coming home sad and happy,—sad at the sight of the wretchedness they have seen, happy at having even ever so little re- lieved it. Some will go about it coldly, perhaps, without zeal or intelli- gence others, on the contrary, will take fire at the work, and will pass on their heat to places where no conferences yet exist, or they will re-

kindle the warmth of those that are already in existence and out of all this goal a portion will be taken, and added to the crown which Gad is preparing for Padre Pendola, but which He will give him, I earnestly hope, as late as possible. And now it dawns on me that I am practising the old French proverb,—Gros Jean vent precher son Cure. No, no, my Father, it is not I who am preaching! it is you, your example, your charity that are preaching to me, and bidding me leave this good work confidently in your hands.' Ozanam waited a fortnight for an answer to this letter ; it came then, brief and pregnant: My dear friend, I founded yesterday, the Feast of St. Vincent de Paul, two con- ferences, one in my college, and one in the town."

These passages in the letter which achieved Ozanam's last prac- tical success in this life, will probably give our readers as true a conception as they can obtain from any single passage, of the sweetness and gently persuasive tenacity of Ozanam's genius. The gentle flattery to Siena,—the delicate respect to the man he was addressing,—the raillery directed against himself for insisting that he knew the good priest's and professor's work better than the Padre knew it, and yet the gentle urgency of the dying man, who was well aware how difficult it would be to re- fuse such a request, so urged, to one in his condition,—all give as good a glimpse as it is easy to get into Frederic Ozanam's pene- trating enthusiasm, which, like summer lightning, beautified everything it touched, and carried through society currents of magnetic influence, which were all the more effective for the apparent harmlessness, and even playfulness, of its flashes.

Ozanam was, indeed, the ideal of a perfectly Liberal, Roman Catholic, but one, nevertheless, who was as genuine a Roman Catholic, as profoundly orthodox, as if he had been a con- temporary of that St. Thomas Aquinas whose philosophy he so profoundly admired. He earnestly loved the middle-ages, though be loved the modern simplicity, and everything in modern civilisa- tion which partook of the ' enthusiasm of humanity,' still more. He was a republican at heart, and a passionate friend of liberty, though he wished to see the liberty chiefly used to bring men voluntarily into the Catholic Church. In all faiths of the present day there is a hard Church party, and a party which believes that the true way of gaining men is to appeal to the best side of their nature, not to frighten and browbeat the worst side of their nature. Among the French Roman Catholics the first party has long been represented, and very ably represented, by the Univers, which is always brandishing damnation, and in its human tactics using the taunts and sneers which, when as clever as those of the Univers, probably give literary men as good a fortaste of damna- tion as any earthly agency could contrive. Ozanam was divided by a far deeper gulf from these Roman Catholics than he Was from many heretics, though it might probably have shocked him to be told so. The Univers fell upon him with its usual savageness, and Ozanam, though he did not reply, showed how profoundly he despised the spiritual condition out of which this dogmatic desire to belabour every one in whom there seemed to be more Christian charity than bigotry, proceeded. And though he never gave up, of course, for a moment the belief of his Church in eternal punishments, he managed to soften it as much as is possible to an orthodox Catholic, and practically to act in the true spirit of Christianity itself, which goes on the assumption, not that most men are to perish everlastingly, but that Christ came to offer life to all.

This graceful memoir proves Ozanam to have been not only a very learned, but an unusually eloquent teacher. He had the verve and élan so rare in our English Universities, but which are far commoner in France, and which, where they exist, give to the teacher much of the atmosphere of heroism and romance which properly belong to the poet. And for the exercise of this kind of power his lectures on the history of the middle-ages afforded him plenty of opportunity. A characteristic story is told of the support he once gave to a colleague at the Sorbonne,

M. Lenormant, who had been converted from Protestantism to Roman Catholicism, and whose lectures, after his conversion, were greatly interrupted, less apparently by the spontaneous anger

of the students themselves, than by the instigation of some of their teachers. Ozanam, who, having always been a Catholic, had of course incurred none of the unpopularity of a convert, and had, moreover, the genius of an orator, attended his colleague's lectures in order to give him the countenance of his presence, and on one occasion thus made use of his power :— " M. Lenormant's appearance was greeted with hisses and yells and unseemly manifestations of dislike. He began to speak, but his voice

was drowned in hootings and blasphemous cries. Ozanam, who was present, unable to contain his indignation, leaped up beside the lecturer, and stood for a moment surveying the tumult with proud defiance. The courageous action drew forth an instantaneous salvo of applause, but Ozanam, with a scornful gesture, commanded silence, and proceeded to tell the assembly what he thought of their behaviour, and what value he set on their plaudits; he spoke with a fiery vehemence that startled all into attention; - he adjured them in the name of liberty, which they so loudly invoked, to respect liberty in others, and to allow every man freedom of his conscience. The effect of the harangue was magical ; the tumult ceased, and M. Lenormant continued, or rather began, his lec- ture, and finished it without interruption."

This is not the place in which to pass any criticism on Ozanam's wide learning and rare beauty of style. We must content our- selves with quoting from Miss O'Meara one or two illustrations of the sweetness and conscientiousness of his character. The following shows the gift of sympathy which was at the basis not only of his greatest achievement in life, but of his power as a teacher :—

He was gentle, even respectful, to dullness, as he was to poverty in every shape; and it sometimes happened that, under his fostering influence, those who had utterly failed with other masters unexpectedly developed with him latent capacities which had hitherto remained stubborn and unproductive. There was one poor lad at the Colldge Stanislas who had been so long a fixture at the bottom of his class that the masters had ceased to pay any attention to him, looking upon him as hopelessly stupid. Ozanam, on being appointed Professor of the College, watched the boy for a time, and then called him up to his desk one day and encouraged him kindly, taking great pains to make hint understand the subject of the lesson. The lad was so touched and surprised, that when Ozanam had gone he sat down and wrote to

thank him, assuring him his kindness should not be lost. votes jure gee je feral rimpossible pour vows prouver ma reconnaissance,' he said, and he kept his word. At the end of the year he carried off the first prize at the Grand Concours, and at the present moment he is a member of the Academy."

Of Ozanam's power of literary expression we must give one or two slight illustrations. In one of his youthful letters to a friend he tells him of the despair into which he had been thrown by medi- tating on his own weaknesses and sins, and of going to his con- fessor to pour out to him all his troubles. " What do you think,"

says Ozanam, " he said to me ? He answered me in the words of the Apostle, Gaudete in Domino saver.' You will admit that it

was a strange reply It needs assuredly all the boldness, all the pious insolence of Christianity, to hold such language, and yet Christianity is right." That touch " the pious insolence of Christian- ity," is very happy, as describing the grand way in which Christian insight ignores the inner scruples and self-accusations of a too sensitive conscience, and gives as the remedy for weakness the injunction to rejoice ever in the Lord. As a specimen of Ozanam's eloquence,—which measured by our frigid English standard, no

doubt often goes beyond what-our reserve approves; and touches the point that we should call eralte,—take this short sentence, suggested to him by a visit to the Grande Chartreuse. " Moun-

tains especially, have a voice which appeals to the soul, of which they are in a certain sense the image,—riches and nakedness, immeasurable height and fathomless abysses, immense disorder, traces of bygone convulsions, soaring peaks, efforts to reach the skies, ever powerless, ever renewed !" But besides being in this sense eloquent, Ozanam's letters are full of delicate artistic feeling. No one can describe a beautiful scene with more glowing and yet more refined touches. And yet no one had a sounder sense to keep his enthusiasms in check. What can be better than this on the Bourbons ?—

" As to political opinions, I should like to see the annihilation of the spirit of politics for the benefit of the social spirit. I have for the old royalty all the respect which one owes to a glorious invalid, but I would not lean on him, because with his wooden leg he could not keep pace with the new generation. I neither deny nor repudiate any combination of government ; I regard them all merely as instruments for making mankind happier and better."

In a word, this volume of Miss O'Meara's presents with perfect good-taste the picture of a very eminent man, whose power was of the most fascinating kind, and therefore, of course, entirely destitute of conscious fasination,—a man whose noblest quality was his humility, but whose rare intellectual gifts were precisely those which would so set off that deep humility as to make it a loadstone to attract all who knew him. The charm of his not unvolumitfous writings was great ; but the charm of his letters is even greater still.