It was a vivid recollection of these early efforts after an ascetic perfection which had neither guide nor definite plan, which prompted the following vigorous self-appreciation, made by Father Hecker two years before his death. He had been speaking of some of his youthful experiments in this direction, and ended with an amused laugh and the ejaculation,

"Thank God! He led me into the Catholic Church. If it hadn't been for that I should have been one of the worst cranks in the world."

Here are two expressions taken from the diary of a permanent fact of Father Hecker's individuality. They help to explain why he was misunderstood by many in later years:

"Men have fear to utter absurdities. The head is sceptical of the divine oracles of the heart, and before she utters them she clothes them in such a fantastic dress that men hear the words but lose the life, the thought."

"We often act to be understood by the heart, not by the head; and when the head speaks of its having understood, we deny its understanding. It is the secret sympathy of the heart which is the only response that is looked for. Speech is cold, profane."

This must recall, to those who were intimate with Father Hecker, how often he arrived at his own convictions by discussing them with others while they were yet but partially formed. It is a custom with many to do so, mind assisting mind, negation provoking affirmation, doubt vanishing with the utterance of the truth. In Father Hecker's case his perfect frankness led him, when among his own friends, to utter half-formed ideas, sometimes sounding startling and erroneous, but spoken with a view to get them into proper shape. At such times it required patience to know just what he meant, for he never found it the easiest to employ terms whose meaning was conventional.

By the first of September such faint hopes as Isaac had entertained of adapting himself to the conditions of his home in New York were well-nigh dissipated. But a certain natural timidity, joined with the still complete uncertainty he felt as to what his true course should be, made him dissemble his disquiet so long as it was bearable. After a month or two, by a mutual agreement between his brothers and himself which exonerated him from much of the manual labor which they still shared with the men in their employment, he devoted himself to an occupation more accordant to his mind. He set to work to make single beds and private rooms for the workmen, contriving various conveniences and means of occasional solitude for them, and in other ways doing all in his power to achieve for them the privileges he found so necessary for himself. Of these efforts we get occasional glimpses in the diary. But it is, in the main, devoted to more impersonal and larger topics, and the facts of his daily employment, as just given, have been gained from other sources.

"September 1.—There are two ways in which the spirit may live itself out. One is to leave all these conditions, purchase a spot of ground, and live according to its daily dictates. The other is to make these conditions as harmonic as possible by giving the men" (workmen) "an associative interest in the accumulations of our associative labor. Both extremes require renunciation of property and of self. Love, universal love is the ruler, and only by it can the spirit find peace or be crowned with the highest happiness."

"The mystery of man's being, the unawakened capacities in him, we are not half aware of. A few of the race, the prophets, sages, and poets, give us a glimpse of his high destiny. Alas! that men should be on the borders of such mighty truths and stand as blind and dumb as lower animals before them!"

"Balaam sometimes, but ignorantly, utters true prophecies. A remark I heard to-day leads me to say this. Speaking of diet a man said: 'Why, what do you intend? At last you will have men to live on God.' We must become God-like, or God-full. Live as He lives, become one with Him. Until we are reconciled with our Father we are aliens, prodigals. Until we can say, My Father and I are one, we have not commenced to be. We must fulfil what the Apostle said (and it means, perhaps, more than we commonly imagine): 'In God we live and move and have our being.'"

"The deeper and more profound a truth is, the less proof can you give in its support."

"September 8.—On the evening of the 6th I went to see the French Opera Company in Auber's 'Black Domino.' It did not please me as well as some music I have heard, though parts of it were very beautiful. The hymns of the nuns were very sweet. The thought occurred to me that if the Church does not provide religious gratifications for the true wants of humanity, she must be silent if men feed them profanely. It is because the Church has not done her duty that there are so many secular societies for Reformation, Temperance, and so on. The Church has provided for the salvation of the sinner's soul by means of spiritual acts, such as prayer, penance, the Eucharist and other sacraments. But now she must provide terrestrial sacraments for the salvation and transfiguration of the body."

"We should strive constantly to actualize the ideal we perceive. When we do realize all the beauty and holiness that we see, we are not called to deny ourselves, for then we are living as fully on all sides as we have capacity to do. Are we not in this state? Then, if we are sincere, we will give up lower and unnecessary gratifications for the sake of the ideal we have in view.

"I would die to prove my immortality."

"At times we are called to rely on Providence, to be imprudent and reckless according to the wisdom of the world. So I am willing to be thought. Each of us has an individual character to act out, under the inspiration of God, and this is the highest and noblest we can do. We are forms differing from one another, and if we are acting under the inspirations of the Highest, we are doing our uttermost; more the angels do not. What tends to hinder us from realizing the ideal which our vision sees must be denied, be it self, wealth, opinion, or death."

"The Heart says, 'Be all that you can.' The Intellect says, 'When you are all that you can be—what then?'"

"Infinite love is the basis of the smallest act of love, and when we love with our whole being, we are in and one with God."

"To love is to lose one's self and gain God. To be all in love is to be one with God."

"When the Spirit begets us, we are no more; the Spirit is, and there is nothing else."

"There is much debauchery in speaking wilfully.

"Every act of self is sin, is a lie.

"The Spirit will lead you into solitude and silence if it has something to teach you.

"You must be born again to know the truth. It cannot be inculcated.

"To educate is to bring forth, not to put in. To put in is death; to flow out is life."

Lest the reader may have got an impression, from any of the extracts already given, that Isaac Hecker was puffed up by the pride of his own innocence, we transcribe what follows. It shows that he did not fall under the Apostle's condemnation: "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us." It was written on the last Sunday of September, and, after this long outpouring of confession, longing, and weakness, the diary was not again resumed for nearly a month. The desire expressed in its second paragraph for the kind of spiritual refreshment which in after years he so often enjoyed under the name of a "retreat," seems noteworthy.

"September 24, 1843.—The human heart is wicked above all things. The enemy of man is subtle and watchful beyond conception. Instead of being on the way of goodness, I am just finding out the wickedness of my nature, its crookedness, its impurity, its darkness. I want deep humility and forgetfulness of self. I am just emerging out of gross darkness and my sight is but dim, so that my iniquities are not wholly plain to my vision.

"At present I feel as if a week of quiet silence would be the means of opening more deeply the still flowing fountains of divine life. I would cut off all relations but that of my soul with the Spirit—all others seem intrusions, worldly, frivolous. The inpouring of the Spirit is checked by so much attention to other than divine things. In the bustle and noisy confusion its voice is unheard.

"I feel that one of my greatest weaknesses, because it leads me to so much sin, is my social disposition. It draws me so often into perilous conversations, and away from silence and meditation with the Spirit. Lately I have felt almost ready to say that good works are a hindrance to the gate of heaven. Pride and self-approbation are so often mixed with them. I feel that nothing has been spoken against the vain attempt to trust in good works which my soul does not fully accord with. This is a new, a very new experience for me."

The foregoing must be understood in the sense of good works hindering better works. Isaac Hecker felt his noblest aspirations to be, for the moment at any rate, towards solitude and the passive state of prayer; and in this he was hindered by the urgency of his zeal for the propagation of philanthropic schemes and his great joy in communing with men whom he hoped to find like-minded with himself. The time came when he was able to Join the two states, the inner purifying the outer man and directing his energies by the instinct of the Holy Spirit. This entry goes on as follows:

"By practice of our aspirations, ideals, and visions, we convert them into real being.

"We should be able to say, 'Which of you convinceth me of sin?' before we are fit to preach to others in such a way that our preaching may have a practical effect upon society.

"Did all our efforts flow into realizing the teachings of the Spirit, we should do much more good and be greater in the sight of God than we are now by so much speaking and writing. But let us be watchful that the pride of good works does not take the place of that of speaking and writing.

"By our sins and many weaknesses we are prevented from entering the Promised Land, and must die just in sight of it. Instead of being humble, willing, and self-denying in our youth, and being led by the Spirit of God, we keep on in the spirit of the world and give all the substance of our being to its service. And when we are nearly worn out we flee to God, and die, perhaps, in sight of heaven, instead of having been among its inhabitants, living in it upon earth, in the full bloom of our youthful joy of life. . . .

"The Lord has been good to me and my heart is filled with His warm love. Blessed be Thou, O God! for Thou hast given me a taste of Thy sweetness. Thou hast given me gratitude and thankfulness and an overflowing heart of praise. I would stand still and shout and bless God. It is God in us that believes in God. Without the light of God we should be in total darkness, and He is the only source of light. The more of God we have in us, the more we see beyond us.

"Thy inspiration, O God! is love and wisdom. In Thee they are one, as light and warmth are in the fire.

"Thou art the true, eternal food of life, and he that has tasted Thee can never be at rest until he is wholly filled with Thee. Lord, when we are without Thee we are lost, dead, in darkness. It is in and by Thy presence that we live and move and have our being.

"Ever more, O Lord, increase Thy Spirit in us until between as there is no more we or Thee, but Thou, O Father, art all!

"Like the fixed light in a crystal which flashes back the light of the sun, so does the soul of man reflect God.

"A good life consists in passive as well as active virtues.

"O Lord, so fill me that nothing shall be left but Thee, and I may be no more."

One would be tempted to believe that none but a master in the spiritual life could have written the sentences which immediately follow this outburst of love and praise. Yet remember that Isaac Hecker was not yet twenty-four, and that he knew nothing of the ways of the Spirit except what the Spirit Himself had directly taught him:

"The reason why men are perplexed and in darkness about their being and the questions which their being often asks, is not that these are insoluble, but that the disposition and spirit in which a solution is attempted is so contrary to that in which they may be solved, that they appear as hidden mysteries.

"When we come together to converse, it should be to learn from each other what good we can and ought to do, and so mingle the brightness of one with the dimness of the other. Our meetings should be such that we should go away feeling that God had been with us and multiplied our blessings. The question should be, 'Brother, can you teach me the way of the Lord in a more perfect manner than that in which I tread it, so that my soul may be increased and God abide in me more and more?' Oh! he is my brother, my master, who leads me to do more and more good and to love and live more of God. He that does not increase my heart in love or my mind in true godly wisdom, is unprofitable and negatively injurious to me.

"Wilfulness locks up while willingness" (docility) "unlocks the portal to the divine mysteries of God. I would not attempt to solve a mystery by intellect, but by being."

"October 17.—It is some time since I have written in this book. All my spare time has been occupied in writing letters to my friends, meditating, feeling, arranging matters with my brothers regarding our relations with each other, and attending to the business. I have had little time to read and to visit my friends. Since I have written my feelings have become more definite, my thoughts clearer and more distinct, and my whole mind more systematic. . . .

"The settlement which has been made with my brothers gives me the opportunity of doing what my spirit has long demanded of me. This afternoon I have been working on their bedroom, making it larger and more pleasant for their minds. This is the first movement I have made toward ameliorating their condition. I hope that God will give me strength to continue."

"October 18.—I feel this afternoon a deep want in my soul unsatisfied by my circumstances here, the same as I experienced last winter when I was led from this place. It is at the very depth of my being. Ah, it is deeply stirred! Oh, could I utter the aching void I feel within! Could I know what would fill it! Alas! nothing that can be said, no, nothing, can touch the aching spot. In silence I must remain and let it ache. I would cover myself with darkness and hide my face from the light. Oh, could I but call upon the Lord! Could I but say, Father! Could I feel any relationship!"

"November 3.—All things considered, could I, under any circumstances, have more opportunities for self-culture and for doing good than I have in my present position?

"For one thing, there is too much demand on me for physical action. My heart and head have not their share of time. But when I consider, I am at a loss to know how we can possibly diminish our business in any way without a still greater demand on us for physical labor in consequence of diminishing it.

"Yesterday afternoon I went alone in my bedroom and I was led to pray, and to think what more I can do for the friends around me than I now do. This morning I arose and prayed, and felt determined not to let any outward event disturb my inward life; that nothing should ruffle my inward peace, and that this day should be one of interior life, let come what would.

"Often I think of my past life and my present with such a strength of emotion that I would cry aloud, 'O Heaven help me from my course! This is not the life I would lead, but how shall I change it? O Lord! wilt Thou guide me and lead me, no matter what pain or distress I may have to pass through, to the true path Thou wouldst have me go in? Oh! I thank Thee for all Thou hast in any way inflicted on me; it has been to me the greatest blessing I could have received. And, O Lord! chasten me more, for I need it. How shall I live so that I may be the best I can be under any conditions? If those in which I now am are not the best, where shall I go or how shall I change them? Teach me, O Lord! and hear my humble prayer.'"

The following account of his curious inner experiences tells of the positive interference of God and His angels, supplementing the calmer moods in which Isaac longed for and struggled towards the settled condition only to be attained after his entering the Church.

"November 5.—How is it and why is it that I feel around me the constant presence of invisible beings who affect my sensibility, and with whom I converse, as it were, in thought and feeling, but not in expression? At times they so move me that I would escape them, if I could, by running away from where I am. I can scarcely keep still; I feel like beating, raving, and grasping what I know not. Ah! it is an unearthly feeling, and painfully afflicts my heart. How to get rid of it I do not know. If I remain quietly where I am, by collecting its scattered rays it burns more deeply into my soul, bringing forth deep sighs, groans, and at times demanding all my energy to repress an unnatural howl.

"How shall I escape this? By remaining here and trying to bear it, or by travelling? To do the latter has often occurred to me of late. By such a cause I was driven from home last winter. What the result will be this time I cannot tell; but if I did know, I would not wait, as I did then, until it came on me with such power as to be torturing in the extreme. Ah, what nervous strength and energy I feel at such times! If I speak of it to my brothers, they cannot understand me, never having had the same experience. My timidity, which does not wish to be thought of as desiring anything extra on account of my life, makes me bear it until it is unendurable. Hence I am silent so long as it does not speak for itself, which extremity might be prevented were circumstances other than they are. Since they are not, let it be borne with, say strength and resignation united with hope. 'Tis this that is fabled in Prometheus and Laocooen—and how well fabled, too."

It is significant that after every extraordinary disturbance, such as the above, he experienced the impulse to study the credentials of claimants in the outer religious world, the envoys of the Deity to man; and this especially concerning the Catholic Church. He goes on at once to say:

"Of late I have felt more disposed to look into church matters than for six months past. Last evening I made a visit to the Rev. Mr. Haight" (an Episcopal clergyman) "and conversed with him about that subject for an hour and a half. We differed very little in our opinions. If the Church of Rome has fallen into corruptions from her over-warmth, the Anglican has neglected some of her duties through her coldness. And if the Anglican receives the first five or six councils as legitimate and rejects the Council of Trent as not a full one, still, as an individual, I think Rome did not establish or enjoin anything in those decrees" (the Tridentine) "which was not in harmony with the Spirit of Christ, the Scriptures, and tradition. But the Anglican thinks she has, and hence, in his judgment, they are unwarrantable and unnecessary."

"November 15.—How does Jesus commune with Humanity through the Church? Does He now commune with the Church? Was the life given by Him to His immediate disciples all that has been given and transmitted to us, or does He now commune with the visible Church? And how? He promised to be with His disciples even unto the end of the world, to send the Comforter who should lead them into all truth, and to intercede for us with the Father. The Church holds that its sacraments and forms are the visible means for communing with the invisible—that grace is imparted through them to the worthy receiver. Is it true that such grace is imparted? If it is, it will be shown by its fruits. Contrast the Catholic who believes most in the sacraments with the Quaker who does not believe in them at all as religious or moral forces. Certainly, if the sacraments have any beneficial effect, it should be shown in the contrast between those who totally deny their efficacy and those who religiously believe in them. Now, does this show what one would naturally expect to flow from faith in the sacraments?

"November 20.—I feel in better health than I have ever had, both mind and body, having at the same time an increased sensitiveness, so that the touch of any one I cannot bear. Also, I am conscious of a more constant spiritual communion. I feel more vividly and distinctly the influence and presence—spiritual presence—of others.

"I lie down in my bed at night with the same feelings with which I rise in the morning. I anticipate as much from one as from the other. The events, emotions, and thoughts which come in my sleep are as much a part of my real life as those of the day. Waking and sleeping are two forms of existence. To me the latter state is full of interest and expectation. The two states mutually act upon each other. . . .

"Hope, Faith, Wish, are the presentiments of sight, the evidences of becoming sight to the senses. They are the forerunners of vision. It is by them we know. . . .

"To believe is to see, not with the senses but with the higher faculties of the soul, reason, imagination, hope. . . .

"I believe that every faculty may be elevated to the state of prophecy.

"Reasoning is faith struggling with doubt."





CHAPTER XI

STUDYING AND WAITING

THAT "movable feast," Thanksgiving Day, gave Isaac occasion for making this examination of conscience at five o'clock in the morning:

"When I cast my eyes back, it seems to me that I have made some progress—that I have grown somewhat better than I was. Thoughts, feelings, and passions which were active in my bosom, and which, in truth, were not to be well-spoken of, have given place, I hope, to a better state of mind.

"How am I now actualizing my spiritual life? It would be hard for me to answer at this moment. Am I less wilful? Do I sacrifice more than I did? Am I more loving? I am afraid that I am doing nothing more than I did; and therefore I took up this book to give an account of myself.

"Study occupies the best part of my time most generally. I recite lessons in Latin and in German every day, and now intend to study English grammar again. Then I read considerable, and write letters to my friends. All this, added to the hours I have to spend in business, leaves me not sufficient time to meditate; and there is no opportunity here for me to go into a retired, silent place, where I can be perfectly still, which is what has the most internal effect on me, and the best and most lasting. Two things I should and must do for my own soul's sake: speak less, and think less of my friends. To do this will give me a retired place and an opportunity for silence in the midst of all that is around me.

"I feel that I am not doing anything to ameliorate the social condition of those around me who are under my influence and partial control. Just now there seems a stand-still in this direction. The Spirit promises to teach us in all things: what more would it have me do in this way? What should be my next step? My mind has been partially drawn away from this by the present poor state of business, which keeps us cramped in our funds.

"I fear that to take less food than I now do would injure my health—else I should fast often.

"To-day let me put in practice the two above-mentioned duties: silence, and less thought upon my friends.

"And now, O God! If Thou helpest not I shall be worse than before. Heavenly Father, as the lower depends on the light and warmth of the sun for its grace and beauty, so, and much more, do I depend on Thee for life and progress. O Lord! from the depths of my heart I would implore Thee to aid me in all good intentions. My heart overflows with its fulness of gratitude for what Thou hast done for me, and I know Thou wilt not shorten Thy hand. Thy beauty, Thy loveliness, O God! is beyond our finite vision, far above our expression. Lord, all I can utter is, Help my weakness."

"December 2, 1843.—My heart, these two days back, has been filled with love. Oh, had I some one to whom I could unbosom myself! There is a something that affects my heart which is invisible, and to me strange."

Here he seems to intend the literal, physical heart, making it the scene, at the same time, of a spiritual emotion. On the same day he writes:

"I will not feed my body with impure food—is it not of infinitely more importance that I should not feed my spirit with deeds of impurity? By this I mean my gaining a living by making and selling articles which, in my judgment, are injurious, being luxurious and altogether unnecessary. Should I cease from doing that which is contrary to my spirit, what else should I do? O Lord, enlighten Thou my path!"

With what zeal he still persisted in the practice of bodily mortification this entry bears witness:

"December 6.—Day before yesterday I fasted and took a cold shower-bath. My diet is apples, potatoes, nuts, and unleavened bread. No water—scarcely a mouthful a week."

Then follow some thoughts on the solidarity of humanity, which retards individual progress by weighting each with the burdens of all others. He finds in this an explanation of the truth that our Lord took all the sins of men upon Himself and suffered for them on the cross. The blind ingratitude with which this sacrifice has been repaid cuts him with anguish, from which he rises into this cry of love and adoration:

"O Lord! my heart is choked from the utterance of its depth of thankfulness. O dear Christ! O sweet Christ! O loving Christ! oh, more than brother, friend! oh, more than any other being can be! O Son of God! oh, Thou who showest forth the pure love of God! oh, Thou inexpressible Love! draw me nearer Thee, let me feel more of Thy purity, Thy love! Oh, baptize me with Thy Spirit and loosen my tongue that I may speak of Thy love to men! Oh, it cannot be spoken of, nor can our hearts feel its greatness. God! what is Thy mercy that Thou sufferest us to live? Our ingratitude is too great to be uttered. Lord, I am silent, for who can speak in Thy presence? O Father! O Love! O Loving-kindness! My heart could fly away!"

On his birthday, December 18, 1843, having finished his twenty-third year, he puts down an account of conscience in the form of prayers and aspirations to God, breathing a deep sense of humility, expressing regret for his inactivity, his lack of gratitude for favors both spiritual and temporal, and adding a fervent appeal for more light and greater courage. In almost every entry of any length in the diary during this period he complains of his lack of solitude and of the means of obtaining it. His mind, after arriving home, was tossed with many interior distresses which he could not communicate to his brothers, nor even to his mother, with any hope of assuagement, but which silence and solitude enabled him to soothe by prayer. On the last day of the year he reverts to the great changes which 1843 had witnessed in his soul, and which, he says, were accompanied by bitter anguish. Twelve months before he had been with his "dear friend, 0, A. Brownson, filled with an unknown spirit, driven from home by it, and like one intoxicated, not knowing who I was or wherefore I was so troubled"—then to Brook Farm, and to Fruitlands, and back again in New York for the previous five or six months, the same spirit still in sovereign mastery over him, and, "though regulated, none the less powerful." He says that he is not so restless nor his mind so chaotic, but that he still has a pain at heart which he declares to be almost unbearable, joined to some nervous excitability.

Meantime, besides trying to employ himself actively in the business of the Hecker Brothers, he recited lessons daily in both German and Latin, and read much, chiefly on topics suggested by the difficulties with which his life was beset, such as philosophy, religious controversy, and the graver sorts of poetry, of which that of Goethe made a deep impression on him. The melancholy unrest and longing which such poetry embodies sunk into his very heart. Often it gave perfect expression to his own doubting and distressed state of soul. He also found some relaxation in an occasional visit to the theatre and heard nearly all the lectures given in the city. One of the dreams of his life, the amelioration of the social condition of the working people, he found himself unable to actualize in any appreciable degree. It is evident that his brothers shared his philanthropic views; but when it came to set practically to work there was a lack of harmony. John Hecker was for attaining the object by stricter discipline, treating the men rather as servants; while "we," says Isaac, speaking of himself and George, "took the side of treating them with kindness, and, as far as possible, as brethren." In truth, it was evidence of nobility of character in these three brothers that they could so much as dream of actualizing so radical a social reform in but one establishment amidst so many in ardent business competition with each other. It may be said in passing that the practical charity of the Hecker Brothers continued to do credit to the spirit which originally prompted their attempts at social reform. During a period of general distress some years since they distributed bread free, sending their own wagons around the city for the purpose.

No small part of Isaac's distress arose from what the diary calls the ugliness, vulgarity, and discord everywhere to be met with in his daily round of duties. He had one refuge from this in his domestic life—a pleasant, pure, and peaceful home; and another in the inner chamber of his soul, better fitted every day to be a sanctuary to which he could fly for solace. But his heart fairly bled for the vast mass of men and of women about him, only a few of whom had such an outer refuge, and perhaps fewer still the inner one. This sympathy he felt his life long. He ever blamed the huge accretion of law and customs and selfishness which is called society for much of this misery of men, this hindrance to a fair distribution of the goods of this world, this guilty permission on the part of the fortunate few of the want and dirt and ugliness and coarseness which are the lot of almost the whole race of man. Yet he was not blind to individual guilt. Right here in his diary, after lamenting his enforced inability to succor human misery, he says that some words dropped by the workmen in conversation with him cause him to record his conviction that suffering and injustice, together with the deprivation of liberty, are due to one's own fault as well as to that of others:

"Every evil that society inflicts upon me, the germ of it is my own fault; in proportion as I free myself from my vices will I free myself from the evils which society inflicts upon me. Be true to thyself and thou canst not be false to any one. Be true to thyself and it follows as night follows day that others cannot be false to thee."

Of course this panacea offers only an inward healing, for none more readily admitted than he who wrote these sentences that in externals the true heart is often the first victim of the malice of the false heart.

Ever and again we find in the diary reflections on the general aspect of religion. The Protestant churches seemed to him to fail to meet the aspirations of the natural man; that is the burden of his complaint against them all. Some, like the Unitarians, did but offer man his best self and hence added nothing to humanity, while humanity at its best ceaselessly condemned itself as insufficient. This insufficiency of man for himself, Calvinistic and Lutheran Protestantism in their turn condemned as a depravity worthy of the deepest hell, making man a wretch maimed in his very nature so cruelly and fatally as to be damned for what he could not help being guilty of. Meantime the Catholic Church was seen by Isaac Hecker as having elements the most attractive. It recognized in man his native dignity; it saw in him a being made God-like by the attribute of reason, and called him to a state infinitely more God-like by a supernatural union with Christ. It understood his weakness, pitied it, and knew how to cure it. True, there are passages here in which his impatience with the public attitude of the Church betrays that his view of it was yet a distant one; they show, also, an undue concentration of his gaze upon social evils. "The Church is a great almoner," he says, "but what is she doing to ameliorate and improve the circumstances of the poorer and more numerous classes? She is more passive than active." "Instead of the Church being in the head and front of advancement, suffering martyrdom for Christ, she is in a conservative relation with society." Yet he adds: "We speak of the Church as she is exhibited by her bishops and clergy, and only in this sense."

Isaac Hecker's renewed experiment of engaging in business and following at the same time the lead of the peremptory Spirit within him soon proved a failure. He complains, though not as bitterly as the year before when he felt the first agony of this suffering, that the greater part of his true life is lost in his present position—the thoughts, feelings, studies which are of supreme value to him, getting entrance into his mind almost by stealth, while, at the same time, he is not of much use in the business and of little benefit to others in any way. On March 10 he wrote to Brownson that he was going to give up business totally and finally, and asked his Advice about a course of study "for the field of the Church," not having yet fully settled as to whether it should be "the Roman or the Anglican." Upon his determination to withdraw from the secular affairs of life he experienced "such peace, calmness, and deep, settled strength and confidence" as never before. "I feel the presence of God," he writes, "wherever I am. I would kneel and praise God in all places. In His presence I walk and feel His breath encompass me. My soul is borne up by His presence and my heart is filled by His influence. How thankful ought we to be! How humble and submissive! Let us lay our heads on the pillow of peace and die peacefully in the embrace of God."

Brownson answered his letter with one of encouragement to carry out his purpose. Yet, there was a pang; Isaac laments "the domestic comforts, the little offices of tender love" which he should lose by going from home. And well he might, for tender love may well describe the bond uniting the dear old mother and her three noble sons. The present writer had no personal acquaintance with John Hecker, but we never heard his name mentioned by Father Hecker except with much affection. George always seemed to us something like a perfect man. He especially it was who all his life gave his entire unselfish love to his brother Isaac. The reader has noticed, we hope, that there has been no mention so far in the diary of difficulty in obtaining money for the expenses of his various journeyings and for his support when absent from home. The two brothers in New York appear to have held these pilgrimages in search of the truth in such reverence as to make Isaac their partner, only in a higher sense than ever before. And George Hecker, especially, seemed throughout his life to continue Isaac a member of his great and rich firm, lavishing upon his least wish large sums of money, and these not only for his strictly personal expenditure, but for any cause whatever he might have at heart.





CHAPTER XII

THE MYSTIC AND THE PHILOSOPHER

BEFORE summarizing and conveniently arranging Isaac Hecker's reasons for becoming a Catholic and narrating the accompanying incidents, we give the following profession of faith in the authority of the Spirit speaking within. It was written in the diary in the midst of his preparations for his baptism, and is an early witness of a permanent characteristic of Father Hecker's life. It is, besides, a fitting introduction to the description of his state of mind when he entered the Church, showing better than anything we have found what kind of man became a Catholic in Isaac Hecker.

"Man is a mystic fact.

"What is most interior is ever mystical, and we should ever be in the centre of the circle of the mystic life.

"We must unfold the mystical in all our expressions, actions, thoughts, and motions.

"It is the mystic life only which can fully interest man. This is deeper than all conditions, behind all organs, faculties, and functions.

"We must listen to those who speak to us in the interior world, and hear the mystic man speak through us.

"The mystic man is ever youthful, fresh, and new.

"The mystic sphere is the kingdom of heaven within.

"I can neither study nor sit down and read for any length of time. The inner man will not permit me. Ever he calls me from it to meditate and enjoy his presence.

"He says: I am all. Ask of me and I will give you more than has been written—more than you can ever find or dig out by study.

"Be my spokesman—this is your office. Submit to me—this is your glory. I have taken up my abode in you on condition that you will be faithful and submissive.

"You have no business to ask of me what I am going to set you about. I am, and you know it—and this is enough for you to know.

"This is my condition of remaining with you—that you entertain me, and me alone, and no other on any pretext whatsoever. I am all, and this suffices. You have nothing to say, to do, or to be troubled about. Do only as I bid you, follow what I tell you, and be still.

"If you neglect me in any way, or forget me for any other object, now that you have enjoyed my confidence, love, and blessing, I will not abide with you any longer.

"I want all your time and to speak all that is to be said. You have no right to speak a word—not a word—of your own. You are not your own. You have given yourself up to me, and I am all. I will not leave you unless you leave me first, and even then I shall ever be the nearest to you, but you will not know it.

"I am your Friend; the One who loves you. I have discovered myself to you and will do so yet more. But the condition of so doing requires from you even more faith, tenderness, and submissiveness.

"Nothing is so real, so near, so full of enjoyment as I am to you, and you cannot leave me without giving up the greater for the less.

"I talk to you at all times and am near you at all seasons, and my joy is to be in your presence, to love you and to take delight in this love I bestow upon you. I direct your pen, speech, thought, and affections, though you know it not sensibly. But you shall know more clearly who I am, and all respecting me, if you but comply with my requirements. You need not fear: you cannot make any mistakes if you submit to be guided by me."

Isaac Hecker had now tried every form of philosophy. Whoever sailed with Brownson on that voyage which ended on the shores of Catholic truth, had explored the deep seas and sounded the shoal waters of all human reason; and young Hecker had been Brownson's friend and sympathizer since the years of his own earliest mental activity. Pantheism, subjectivism, idealism, and all the other systems were tried, and when at last he was convinced that Life is Real it was only after such an agony as must attend the imminent danger of fatal shipwreck.

He had, meantime, given a fair trial to philanthropy. Theoretically and practically, Isaac Hecker loved humanity; to make men happy was his ever-renewed endeavor; was, in truth, the condition on which his own happiness depended. For years this view of his life-task alternated with his search for exact answers to the questions his soul asked about man's destiny hereafter; or, one might rather say, social questions and philosophical ones borrowed strength from each other to assail him till his heart throbbed and his brain whirled with the agony of the conflict.

In a series of articles in The Catholic World published in 1887, and before referred to, Father Hecker called Dr. Brownson's road to the Church the philosophical road. Finding that doctrines which his philosophical mind perceived to answer the deepest questions of the soul were taught only in one society, and there taught with authority, he argued validly that that society could lay claim to the right to teach. From the doctrine to the teacher, from the truth to the external authority that teaches it, is an inference of sound reason. This applies to Father Hecker's case also, for he was of a bent of mind truly philosophical, and he has placed on record the similarity of his philosophical difficulties with those of Brownson. But in addition to philosophical questions, and far more pressing, were to Isaac Hecker the problems arising from the mystical occurrences of which his soul was the theatre. Were these real? that is, were they more than the vagaries of a sensitive temperament, the wanderings of a sentimental imagination, or, to use Father Hecker's own words, "the mere projections into activity of feelings entirely subjective; mystical impulses towards no corresponding objective realities, or, at any rate, with objects which it is not possible to bring into the field of the really knowable? Some will admit that religious feeling is as much a verity as any other part of human consciousness, affirming, however, the subjectivity of all purely spiritual life; and no more can be said, they insist, for the principles, metaphysical and logical, with which they are associated in the spiritual life of man. Now, such a theory never leaves the soul that is governed by reason at rest. The problem ever and again demands solution: are these yearnings, aspirations, unappeased desires, or religious feelings—the ruling traits of the noblest men and women—are they genuine, real, corresponding to and arising from the reality of certain objects external to the soul? I think that in the solution of this problem Dr. Brownson fought and won his greatest victory; at any rate, it was to me the most interesting period of his life. No wonder, since I had the same battle to fight myself, and it was just at this epoch that I came into closest contact with him. We fought this battle shoulder-to-shoulder."—Catholic World, October, 1887, pp. 5-6.

Brownson's heavy heart was due to philosophical difficulties, and Isaac Hecker's to the same; but in addition the latter had a mystical experience to which Brownson was at that time, certainly, a stranger, and, as far as we know, he remained so; and these mystical difficulties demanded settlement far more imperatively than did the philosophical ones. Isaac Hecker's inner life must have an external adjunct of divine authority. Such aspirations of the soul for present union with God in love as he had, are more peremptory in demanding satisfaction than those of the logical faculty in demanding the ascertainment of the certain truth. Philosophy outside the Church is to the searcher after truth what St. Paul said the Law was to the Jews, a schoolmaster; but, to a soul in the condition of Isaac Hecker, the Holy Spirit is a spouse demanding union. Both Brownson and himself were men true to their convictions, courageous and unselfish. They were both firmly determined to have the truth and to have the whole of it, whether spoken ex cathedra in the divine court of the innermost soul, or ex cathedra by the supreme authority of God in the organism of the Christian Church. "Brownson was firmly persuaded," says Father Hecker, "and so am I, that the great fault of men generally is that they deem the life of their souls, thoughts, judgments, and convictions, yearnings, aspirations, and longings to be too subject to illusion to be worthy their attentive study and manly fidelity; that even multitudes of Catholics greatly undervalue the divine reality of their inner life, whether in the natural or supernatural order."

The philosophical difficulty was far less serious than the spiritual one. To the philosopher the fundamental truths of human reason are established as objective realities by processes common to every sane mind, and are backed by the common consent of men; and this is true also of the prime verities of ethics. But when a man finds himself subject to secret influences of the utmost power over him, able to cast him off or to hold him, to sicken his body and distress his soul, extending his views of the truth by flashes of light into vistas that seem infinite, making his love of right an ecstasy, his sympathy for human misery a passion, controlling his diet and his clothing, ordering him here and there at will and knowing how to be obeyed—when, in a word, a man finds himself treated by God in a manner totally different from any one else he knows or ever heard of, it is plain that he must agonize for the possession of a divine sanction to which he can appeal in common with all men, and which must therefore exist in the external order. He longs, above all things, to test his secret in the light of day.

The problem that Isaac Hecker had to solve, as he described it himself, was whether his life was real—using the word "life" to denote its truest meaning, the interior life. We have been careful to make the reader aware of how deep and continuous were the inner touches of the Holy Spirit which led him on. Before applying for admission to the Church, there was no truth that he could believe more firmly than that he was the temple of the Holy Ghost. Of that he had the certitude which is called personal and the teaching of God which is most direct. Yet something was lacking, and therein lay his agony, for he knew that his fellow-men were entitled to all that he had of truth and virtue. The more distinct the Voice which spoke within, the more perplexing it became to hear no echo from without. He felt sure that what was true and holy for him must be so for all, and yet he could not so much as make himself understood if he told his secret to others. To the born Catholic there is no such difficulty. He is so fully accustomed to the verification of the inner action of God, enlightening his mind and stinging his conscience, by God's external action in the Church, that he often confounds the two. He knows the Voice better by its echo than by its own tones. There are many good Catholics, but few enlightened mystics. This is not for lack of guidance, so far as doctrine is concerned, for accredited authors on such subjects are numerous and their teaching is uniform and explicit, besides being of the most intense interest to those for whose instruction it is adapted. These masters of spiritual doctrine not only dwell upon the interior life itself, but also on the external order of God in His Church which brings His interior teaching into proper relation with the exterior. The interior life thus made integral is alone worthy of the term real; is alone worthy of the description of St. Paul when he calls it "the witness of the Spirit." Now, as a witness who cannot be brought into open court to give his testimony might as well be dumb, and is as good as no witness, so the inner life, lacking the true external order of God, is cramped and helpless; and cramped and helpless Isaac Hecker was. Whatever he did, therefore, toward investigating religious evidences was done primarily as a search for the external criterion which should guarantee the validity of the inspirations of God within him, and at the same time provide a medium of union with his fellow-men.

Those whose advertence is not particularly aroused to the facts of their interior life, have for their main task either the study of the Church as a visible society, claiming continuity with one established by Christ; or, preceding that, the question whether such a society was ever founded by God. Now, although such questions must be settled by all, they are not the main task of men like Isaac Hecker. In their case the problem transcending all others is where to find that divine external order demanded for the completion of their inner experience. Such men must say: If there is no external order of God in this world, then my whole interior life is fatally awry.

The captain whose voyage is on the track of the trade winds nevertheless needs more than dead reckoning for his course; he needs to take the sun at noon, to study the heavens at night, and to con his chart. To follow one's interior drift only is to sail the ocean without chart or compass. The sail that is wafted by the impulses of the divine Spirit in the interior life must have, besides, the guarantee of divine veracity in the external order to justify him. This he needs, in order to safeguard him in the interior life itself, and to provide a common court of appeal between himself and his fellows, or otherwise he is in danger of fanaticism, and is certain of the mistrust of his fellow-men. No man, unsupported by external miracles, can claim to teach what is vouched for only by his own testimony; and this especially applies to purely subjective experiences. Isaac Hecker was a born teacher of men, and to be shut off from them by an isolated experience was to be robbed of his vocation. A soul like his, led to the truth along the path of social reform, will hail with delight a religion which organizes all humanity on a basis of equality, and at the same time verifies and explains the facts of each one's particular experience. Such a religion is to be longed for, not only because of its universal brotherhood, but also because it can decide between the inspirations of the Holy Spirit and the criminal conceits of passion or the dreams of an imaginative temperament.

Many years afterwards Father Hecker thus stated the harmony between the inner and outer action of God in the soul's life:

"In case of obscurity or doubt concerning what is the divinely revealed truth, or whether what prompts the soul is or is not an inspiration of the Holy Spirit, recourse must be had to the divine teacher or criterion—the authority of the Church. For it must be borne in mind that to the Church, as represented in the first instance by St. Peter and subsequently by his successors, was made the promise of her divine Founder that 'the gates of hell should never prevail against her.' No such promise was ever made by Christ to each individual believer. 'The Church of the living God is the pillar and ground of truth.' The test, therefore, of a truly enlightened and sincere Christian will be, in case of uncertainty, the promptitude of his obedience to the voice of the Church.

"From the above plain truths the following practical rule of conduct may be drawn: The Holy Spirit is the immediate guide of the soul in the way of salvation and sanctification; and the criterion or test, that the soul is guided by the Holy Spirit, is its ready obedience to the authority of the Church. This rule removes all danger whatever, and with it the soul can walk, run, or fly, if it chooses, in the greatest safety and with perfect liberty, in the ways of sanctity."—The Church and the Age, p. 35.

In transcribing the above we are reminded that St. Ignatius, who was the divine instrument in establishing and perfecting God's authority in the external order, yet left on record that so clearly had the Holy Spirit shown him by secret teaching the truths of religion, that, if all the Scriptures had been destroyed, his private revelations at Manresa would have sufficed him in their stead.

All that we have just been saying helps to answer the question why Orestes Brownson and Isaac Hecker did not set up systems of their own, and become Carlyles and Emersons or, especially in Father Hecker's case, Emanuel Swedenborgs or Edward Irvings. We find the following among the memoranda of conversations:

"June 30, 1886.—Why didn't I switch off from Christianity as Carlyle did? Because I hope that I was truer to natural reason; but chiefly because God had given me such an amount of infused lights and graces that I was forced to seek a guide or go off into extravagant fanaticism. They were ready to encourage me in the latter. George Ripley said to me, 'Hecker, what have you got to tell? Tell us what it is and we will accept it.'"

The impression a perfectly "independent thinker" made on him, as typified in Emerson, is told in an entry in his diary, dated April 24, 1844:

"I have had a few words with Emerson. He stands on the extreme ground where he did several years ago. He and his followers seem to me to live almost a purely intellectual existence. His wife I have understood to be a very religious woman. They are heathens in thought, and profess to be so. They have no conception of the Church: out of Protestantism they are almost perfectly ignorant. They are the narrowest of men, yet they think they are extremely 'many-sided'; and, forsooth, do not comprehend Christendom, and reject it. The Catholic accepts all the good they offer him and finds it comparatively little compared to that which he has."

That he recognized that the test of the character of his inner experiences, for good or ill, was to be finally found in what they led him to, is shown by the following passage, already quoted, from the diary: "What I do I must do, for it is not I that do it; it is the Spirit. What that Spirit may be is a question I cannot answer. What it leads me to do will be the only evidence of its character. I feel as impersonal as a stranger to it."

The aid which fidelity to the light of reason and the cherishing and obeying the inspirations of the Holy Spirit lends to the discovery of the fulness of truth is shown by the following extract from an article by Father Hecker in The Catholic World of October, 1887:

"The man who establishes the historical identity of the Church of to-day with the Apostolic college says the doctrines now taught must be true; the man who perceives the identity of the Church's doctrines with his own highest aspirations also proves them true. The man who has become responsive to the primitive action of his reason says that the Church, which is its only authoritative exponent, must be a divinely appointed teacher. The infallible authority of the Church in her past, present, and future teaching is established by the necessity of the truths which she teaches for the welfare of the human race, by thus completing the outlines of natural truth drawn by the divine hand in human consciousness."

By this we see that, if the divine inner life had need of the divine outer life for its integrity, it is equally certain that in his case, and also in that of Dr. Brownson, the intimate action of God within was a pointer to the true Church of the Divine Word incarnate in the actual world of humanity: for Dr. Brownson chiefly in the intellectual order, for Isaac Hecker in both the intellectual and mystical. We have no fear of wearying the reader with the length of an extract of such value as the following:

"The one who reaches Catholicity by the philosophical road, as Brownson did, by no means pretends that the problem of human destiny can be solved by mere force of reason: Catholicity is not rationalism. Nor does he pretend that the product of reason's action, the knowledge of human immortality and liberty and of the being of God, place man apart from or above the universal action of God upon all souls by means of a visible society and external ordinances: Catholicity is well named; it is universal. But he knows that when a man is persuaded of a truth philosophically he is not called upon by his intelligence or his conscience to base it upon historical evidence; it is enough that he has one source of certitude in its favor. It may be a truth first known by revelation, but if the human intelligence is capable of receiving it in revelation it must have some element of kinship to the truths of pure reason. As in the order of nature men are like unto God, so is there a likeness between the truth of God naturally known and that known only by revelation.

"As there is an appetite in the human heart which not all the treasures, honors, joys of nature can satisfy, so there is a void in the mind which all the truth within reach of the unaided natural faculties leaves unfilled. When a man without guile is brought face to face with truth he spontaneously desires union with it. Appetite proves the existence of food, and the food affirms itself by satisfying the appetite.

"Where there is question of a principle there is a class of minds which must study the part a principle has played in history, and is mainly influenced for or against it from its effect on former generations of men. This class follows the historical road. Another class is so profoundly moved by the truths of revelation as soon as known, assimilates them so readily and perfectly, becomes so absorbed and lost in them, that the history of revelation is not of primary importance; it is only necessary in order to establish necessary facts, such as the divine institution of an external society, and of other external aids. But with this philosophical class of minds the truth stands sponsor for itself and is its own best witness. The impression produced by revelation here and now upon the soul without guile is one of the best probable proofs to that soul of the historical claims of the society to which God entrusted it. 'The Church Accredits Itself' was the title of one of the most powerful articles Dr. Brownson ever wrote for this magazine.

"Both the historical and the philosophical processes are necessary, but each is more so to one class of minds than to another. To the philosophical mind, once scepticism is gone and life is real, the supreme fact of life is the need of more truth than unaided reason can know. The more this need is felt, and the more clearly the deficiencies of natural reason are known, the better capable one is to appreciate the truths of revelation which can alone supply these deficiencies. In such a state of mind you are in a condition to establish revealed truth in a certain sense a priori, and the method a posteriori is then outranked. The philosopher outranks the historian. In minds of a speculative turn the historian is never considered of primary importance. The principles which its facts illustrate are furnished him by human reason in philosophy, and by the divine reason in revelation. The historical mind has never been considered in the world of thought as sovereign. The philosopher is broad enough to study all ways leading to the full truth and joy of life, whether logical or traditional; but he knows that the study of principles is higher than that of facts. . . . No man can intelligently become a Catholic without examining and deciding the historical question. But back of this is the consideration that the truths the Church teaches are necessarily in harmony with my reason—nay, that they alone solve the problems of reason satisfactorily and answer fully to the wants of the heart. To some minds the truths standing alone compel assent; that is to say, the truths standing alone, and considered in themselves, demand the submission of my reason. Among these truths, thus imperative, not the least is the need of the very Church herself, viewed in her action on men and nations—viewed quite apart from the historical and Scriptural proof of her establishment by Christ. Once the mind is lifted above subjectivism and is face-to-face with the truth, union with the Church is only a question of time and of fidelity to conscience."—Catholic World, November, 1887, "Dr. Brownson and Catholicity."





CHAPTER XIII

HIS SEARCH AMONG THE SECTS

HAD Protestantism possessed anything capable of attracting Isaac Hecker he would certainly have found it, for he made due and diligent search. He was, in a manner, bound to do so, for the atmosphere in which he had been born and nurtured had not yet cleared so fully that he could say to himself with positive assurance that there was no safe midway between no-belief and Catholicity.

All the natural influences of his surroundings were such as to draw him to one or other of the Protestant denominations. The power of example and precept in his mother tended that way. The power of public opinion, in so far as it had any religious bearing, was Protestant. The most intelligent and high-minded people he had enjoyed intimate acquaintance with were Protestant by birth and training. True, most of these had fallen away from both the fellowship and the doctrines of orthodoxy; but while they had not the heart to point him to what had been their Egypt, still they had no Promised Land to lead him into, and were confessedly in the Desert. Yet their influence was indirectly favorable to Protestantism as opposed to Catholicity, although no one but the ministers whom he consulted thought of urging him to identify himself with any variety of it until he showed signs of becoming a Catholic.

To this rule Brownson may appear as a partial exception, but until the summer of 1844 he was so in appearance only. It is true that Isaac Hecker had learned from him the claims of most of the great forms of Protestantism, and got his personal testimony as to the emptiness of them all. Brownson was a competent witness, for he had been an accepted disciple of every school, from sterile Presbyterianism to rank Transcendentalism. Although of a certain testiness of temper, he bore malice to no man and to no body of men. His testimony was in the presence of patent facts, and his condemnation of all forms of orthodox Protestantism in the end was unreserved. But, up to the date given above he still made a possible exception in favor of Anglicanism. In the middle of April, 1843, he wrote Isaac a letter, motioning him toward this sect, at the same time affirming that he could not quite accept it for himself. Such counsel was no better than motioning him away from it, and was but a symbol of Brownson's own devious progress, swaying now to one side and again to the other, but always going forward to Rome. But young Hecker would learn for himself. Of an abnormally inquiring mind by nature, he never accepted a witness other than himself about any matter if he could help it.

In the early part of 1844 the question of religious affiliation began to press for settlement with increasing urgency, casting him at times into an agony of mind. It was not merely that he was impelled by conscience towards the fulness of truth, but that truth in its simplest elements seemed sometimes to be lacking to him. He was heard to say in after years that, had he not found Catholicity true, he would have been thrown back into a scepticism so painful as to suggest suicide as a relief. Yet those who have trodden any of the paths which lead from inherited heresy to true doctrine, will appreciate the force of the influences, both personal and social, which induced him to reconsider, and make for himself the grand rounds of Protestant orthodoxy before turning his back upon it for ever.

We find him, therefore, going diligently to all who claimed to be watchmen on the walls of Sion, to seek from each one personally that countersign which would tally with the divine word nature and grace were uttering in his own soul. He interviewed ministers repeatedly. "Not having had," he wrote in this magazine for November, 1887, "personal and experimental knowledge of the Protestant denominations, I investigated them all, going from one of them to another—Episcopal, Congregational, Baptist, Methodist, and all—conferring with their ministers and reading their books. It was a dreary business, but I did it. I knew Transcendentalism well and had been a radical socialist. All was found to be as stated above. Brownson's ripe experience and my own thoroughly earnest investigation tallied perfectly. Indeed, the more you examine the Protestant sects in the light of first principles the more they are found to weaken human certitude, interfere with reason's native knowledge of God and His attributes, and perplex the free working of the laws of human thought. Protestantism is no religion for a philosopher, unless he is a pessimist—if you can call such a being a philosopher—and adopts Calvinism."

Why Calvinism, with its dread consistency of aversion for human nature, did not attract him in these early inquiries was expressed by Father Hecker in after years by the saying, "Heresy always involves a mutilation of man's natural reason." The typical Calvinist foams against man's natural capacity for the true and the good, and one of its representatives, a Presbyterian minister, had the consistency to say to our young disciple of nature, "Unless you believe that you are totally depraved you will certainly suffer eternal damnation." These words were spoken to one who felt some sort of apostleship growing into act within his bosom: to preach the Gospel to those who are totally depraved he perceived to be both vain and suicidal. Furthermore, the consciousness of his own upright character, his experience and observation of human virtue in others, made abstract arguments needless to prove that Calvinism is an outrage on human kind and a blasphemy against the Creator.

Anglicanism, too—uncleansed, as it notoriously is, of a Calvinistic taint, broken up by absolute license of dissent, maintaining a mere outward conformity to an extremely lax discipline—affronted Isaac Hecker's ideal of the communion of man and God; man seeking and God giving the one only revelation of divine truth, unifying and organizing the Christian community: and this in spite of an attraction for the beauty of the Episcopal service which he often confesses in his diary.

In the same scrupulous spirit he tried the Baptists, though he must have known that they were, almost without exception, Calvinists. He had a conference with one of their ministers which, from the account he gives of it, must have degenerated into something like a wrangle. "If," said young Hecker, "you admit that baptism is not a saving ordinance, why, then, do you separate yourselves from the rest of Christendom on a mere question of ceremonial observance?" There could be no satisfactory answer to this question.

As to the Methodists, they made fifty years ago much less pretension to an intellectual footing in the religious world than at the present day. One thing, Father Hecker tells us, drew his sympathetic regards their way—their doctrine of perfection. He went to one of their ministers, a Dr. Crawford. "I have read in the Bible," said he, "'If thou wouldst be perfect, go and sell all thou hast'; now, that is the kind of Christian I want to be." The answer was: "Well, young man, you must not carry things too far; you are too enthusiastic. Christ does not require that of us in the nineteenth century." After conversing with him for some time, the minister told him to give up such ideas and study for the ministry.

A singular episode in his search was his meeting with two enthusiastic Mormon apostles, and a long and careful examination, under their guidance, of the then newly-delivered revelations and prophecies of Joseph Smith. He describes his Mormon acquaintances as men of some intelligence, but given over, totally and blindly, to Smith's imposture.

But what cut under the claims of every form of Protestantism was the error, common to them all, concerning the rule of faith: the private and independent judgment of the teaching of Scripture made by each man for himself. As the real owner of a homestead has most reason to dread a dealer in false titles, so the truly free man has most reason to dread false liberty. Isaac Hecker was the type of rational individual liberty, hence the very man to abhor most the caricature of that prerogative in the typical Protestant.

Five years before his death, in an article in The Catholic World entitled "Luther and the Diet of Worms," Father Hecker put the case thus: "It is a misapprehension common among Protestants to suppose that Catholics, in refusing the appeal of Martin Luther at the Diet of Worms, condemn the use of reason or individual judgment, or whatever one pleases to call the personal act which involves the exercise of man's intellect and free will. The truth is, personal judgment flows from what constitutes man a rational being, and there is no power under heaven that can alienate personal judgment from man, nor can man, if he would, disappropriate it. The cause of all the trouble at the Diet of Worms was not personal judgment, for neither party put that in question. The point in dispute was the right application of personal judgment. Catholics maintained, and always have and always will maintain, that a divine revelation necessitates a divine interpreter. Catholics resisted, and always will resist, on the ground of its incompetency, a human authority applied to the interpretation of the contents of a divinely-revealed religion. They consider such an authority, whether of the individual or the state, in religious matters an intrusion. Catholics insist, without swerving, upon believing in religion none but God. . . . To investigate and make one's self certain that God has made a revelation is of obligation, and consistent with Christianity. But as a divine revelation springs from a source above the sphere of reason, it necessitates a divinely authorized and divinely assisted interpreter and teacher. This is one of the essential functions of the Church."

That the use of the Scriptures is not, and cannot be made the ordinary means for making all men Christians, was plain to Isaac Hecker for other reasons than the essential one thus clearly stated. For, if such were the case, God would bestow on all men the gift to read at sight, or cause all to learn how to read, or would have recorded in the Book itself the words, "Unless a man reads the Bible, and believes what he reads, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God," or their plain equivalent; whereas the Bible, as we have it now, did not exist in the apostolic days, the most glorious era of the Christian Church. Such is Father Hecker's argument in a powerful article in The Catholic World for October, 1883. He continues:

"But suppose that everybody knew how to read, or all men were gifted to read at first sight; suppose that everybody had a copy of the Bible within his reach, a genuine Bible, and knew with certitude what it means; suppose that Christ himself had laid it down as a rule that the Bible, without note or comment, and as interpreted by each one for himself, is the ordinary way of receiving the grace of salvation—which is the vital principle of Protestantism; suppose all these evident assumptions as true. Would the Bible even in that case suffice to make any one man, woman, or child a Christian? Evidently not. And why? For that is a personal work, and the personal work of Christ; for Christ alone can make men Christians. And no account of Christ is Christ. . . The contents of a book, whatever these may be, are powerless to place its readers in direct contact and vital relations with its author. No man is so visionary as to imagine that the mental operation of reading the Iliad, or the Phaedo, or the Divine Comedy, suffices to put him in communication with the personality of Homer, or Plato, or Dante. All effort is in vain to slake the thirst of a soul famishing for the Fountain of living waters from a brook, or to stop the cravings of a soul for the living Saviour with a printed book. . . . His words are 'Come unto ME all that are weary and heavy laden, and I will refresh you.' It was the attempt to make men Christians by reading the Bible that broke Christendom into fragments, multiplied jarring Christian sects, produced swarms of doubters, filled the world with sceptics and scoffers at all religion, frustrated combined Christian action, and put back the Christian conquest of the world for centuries. Three centuries of experience have made it evident enough that, if Christianity is to be maintained as a principle of life among men, it must be on another footing than the suicidal hypothesis invented in the sixteenth century after the birth of its divine Founder."

His farewell interviews with exponents of the Protestant claims were mainly, if not wholly, with representatives of Anglicanism. This did not arise from any grounded hope of getting all he wanted there, but from an insensible drift of his mind upon those currents of thought set in motion by the great power of Newman. The air was full of promise of non-Roman Catholicity, and the voices which called the English-speaking world to listen were the most eloquent since Shakespeare. It needed but a dim hope pointing along any road to induce the delicate conscience of Isaac Hecker to try if it might not be a thoroughfare. But neither in his copious entries in the diary at this period, nor in his articles in this magazine for the year 1887 on Dr. Brownson's difficulties—and these were much like his own—do we find any trace of his discovering in Anglicanism a germ of Catholicity unfolding from the chrysalis of genuine Protestantism and casting it off. This was readily perceived in Isaac Hecker's bearing and conversation by acute Episcopalians themselves, as in the case of Dr. Seabury, who, as Father Hecker relates in the articles above referred to, prophesied Brownson's conversion to Catholicity, and did so for reasons which Seabury must have known would apply to young Hecker also.

Many at this time were being drawn by poetical sentiment to the beautiful and religious forms of Episcopalian worship; drawn and held rather by imagination and feeling than by any adhesion of their minds to distinctive Anglican doctrines. Father Hecker was, indeed, more poetical in temperament than at first acquaintance he seemed to be, but his mind was so constituted that he must have the main reasons of things, whether religious or not, firmly settled before he could enjoy their use. Nor could he be content with fragments of revealed truth, such as are found in all denominations of non-Catholics. "There is a large floating body of Catholic truth in the world," says Newman; "it comes down by tradition from age to age. . . . Men [outside the church] take up and profess these scattered truths, merely because they fall in with them." Not so Father Hecker: no flotsam and jetsam of doctrine for him, unless some fragment would reveal to him the name of the ship from which it had been torn, and the port from which she had sailed, and so lead him to the discovery of the ship herself, crew, cargo, port, and owner.

Yet he lingered long over the claim of Anglicanism to be the Catholic religion. Of Mr. Haight and of his interviews with him we have already spoken. Through him he came across a published letter of a Mr. Norris, Episcopal minister in Carlisle, Pa., which so pleased him for its Catholic tendency that he wrote to him, asking to be allowed to go to Carlisle and live there as the writer's pupil. The answer, though a refusal of this request, was kind, and contained a cordial invitation to visit Mr. Norris after Easter. On his way to Concord, in the following spring, Isaac made a long detour to the little town in southern Pennsylvania, interviewed Mr. Norris, and came away no wiser than before.

The following words of the diary, under date of March 30, 1844, refer to an Episcopal dignitary of higher grade:

"Mr. Haight gave me a note of introduction to Dr. Seabury. I called to see him two evenings ago and had a very pleasant conversation with him. His sociableness and perfect openness of expression I was quite delighted with. He frankly acknowledged that he thought that error had been committed on both sides in the controversy of the Reformation between the Pope and the Anglican Church. He recommended me to examine those points which kept me from joining the Anglican or Roman Church before I should do anything further, as there was the charge of schism against the Anglican Church and neglect of discipline among the members of her communion. I told him that though the Church of Rome may commit errors in practice, she had not committed any in principle, and that it was easier to prune a luxuriant tree than to revivify a tree almost exhausted of life. I left him with an earnest invitation to call again."

This half-confession of schism and frank avowal of lack of discipline on the part of a perfectly representative official of the Anglican Church was something singularly Providential, for it came within a fortnight after Isaac Hecker's first interview with Bishop Hughes, described in the diary under date of March 22. That powerful man and great prelate was a type of the best form of Catholicism at that day. He was of the Church militant in more senses than one; and the military qualities which have inspired the public action of Catholic champions for the past three centuries were strongly developed in him. That it was for the good of religion that it should have such characters as John Hughes to care for its public welfare there is no room to doubt. Since then the temper of Protestant Americans has undergone a change which is almost radical. It has grown infinitely more just and kindly towards Catholics. The decay of the Protestant bond of cohesion from lapse of time and from the unsettlement of belief in its chief doctrines; the fighting of two wars, one of them the great Rebellion, which fused the populations of States and acquainted men better with their neighbors; the coming in of millions of Catholic foreigners whose every breath was an aspiration for liberty; the rise, culmination, and collapse of the anti-Catholic movement termed Know-nothing-ism; the polemical warfare of Bishop Hughes himself and of his contemporaries—these and other causes have made it possible, nay necessary, to treat non-Catholics in a different spirit from what wisdom dictated fifty years ago.

If Dr. Seabury owned to schism and lack of discipline in Anglicanism, Bishop John Hughes brought out to Isaac Hecker the very contrary as the attractive qualities of Catholicity. He was questioned by the young inquirer about the latter's chances for studying for the priesthood should he decide on entering the Church, and he answered according to rigid notions of the place of authority in religion.

"He said," are the words of the diary, ending a summary of the interview, "that their Church was one of discipline. I thanked him for the information that he gave, and told him that it was for just such instruction that I sought him. He seemed to think that I had some loose notions of the Church. So far, this settles my present intention of uniting myself with the Roman Catholic Church. Though I feel not in the least disinclined to be governed by the most rigid discipline of any church, yet I am not prepared to enter the Roman Catholic Church at present. It is not national with us, hence it does not meet our wants, nor does it fully understand and sympathize with the experience and dispositions of our people. It is principally made up of adopted and foreign individuals."

To us this is exceedingly instructive, for it tells us how not to meet the earnest seeker after Catholic truth. Even a good-natured dog does not show his teeth when caressed, nor is an artillery salute the only show of amity between even warlike powers. Yet the repellant attitude of the great controversialist was that of very many representative Catholics of his time, especially those holding his high office. For although he really did know the American people, and although their country was fully his own, and was by him deeply and intelligently loved, yet he did not understand or sympathize with the religious movements of which his strange young visitor was the truest type. He afterwards knew him better and loved him.

The toss thus given Isaac Hecker by Bishop Hughes's catapult of "discipline" had the good effect of throwing him again upon a full and perfect and final investigation of Protestantism. With what immediate result is shown by the Seabury interview already related, and with what honesty of purpose is shown by the following words written the same day:

"If a low passion usurps the place of pure love, if a blind prejudice usurps the place of Catholic truth, he who informs me of it, though he had been my enemy (if enemies it is possible for me to have), I will receive him as an angel from heaven, as an instrument of God. My honor, my consistency, my character consists in faithfulness to God's love, God's truth, and nothing else. Let me be but true to Him—how then can I be false to either man or the world? It is Him who knows our secret thoughts that we should fear (if fear we must) and obey."

Thus it was Anglicanism that engaged Isaac Hecker's last efforts to adjust a Protestant outside to his inward experience with the Holy Spirit; and this for a reason quite evident. That body pretended, then as now, to be the Catholic Christian Church, assisting men to union with God by a divinely-founded external organism, but not demanding the sacrifice of human liberty. To an inexperienced observer such as he, it seemed possible that Anglicanism might be the union of historical Christianity with manly freedom. Closer observation proved to him not only the compatibility of Catholicity and liberty, but that Anglicanism, though assuming some of the forms of Catholic unity, is kept alive by the principle of individual separatism common to all Protestant sects. For a time, or in a place, it may have much or little of Catholicity; but in no place can it live for a day without the Protestant principle of a right of final appeal to the individual judgment to decide upon the verity of doctrine.





CHAPTER XIV

HIS LIFE AT CONCORD

"I HAVE been groping in darkness, seeking where Thou wast not, and I found Thee not. But, O Lord my God, Thou hast found me—leave me not."

These words are part of a long prayer written by Isaac Hecker in his diary April 23, 1844, after his arrival at Concord, Mass. He appears to have gone directly there from Carlisle, Pa., where he had spent some days with the Rev. William Herbert Norris, whose published letter to "A Sincere Enquirer" had excited in the young man a hope that he might find in him a teacher whose deep inward experiences would be complemented by the adequate external guaranty that he was seeking. We have already noted that he was disappointed. He states the reason very suggestively in a letter written at the time:

"Alas, that men should speak of those things they are most ignorant of! What hopes did he not awaken in my bosom as I read his letter to a Sincere Enquirer, and how were they blasted when I met him and found that it was not he, but Hooker, Newman, Paul, etc.! It is a sad fact that many believe, but very few give themselves up to what they believe so that they may have the substance of their belief."

Isaac Hecker's business in Concord had, as usual, two sides. Externally it meant going on with Greek and Latin, under the guidance of the lately deceased George P. Bradford, a scholar of rare acquirements, whose acquaintance he had made at Brook Farm the previous year. The end he sought in this study was to fit himself for "working in the field of the church." But as the question of which church was not even yet fully settled in his mind, his search for the true religion still remained his deepest and most inmost purpose. Nevertheless, he was enjoying at this time one of his periods of profound interior and exterior peace. "I feel," he writes, "that I am growing in God's grace. To Him I look for support. Will He not impart wisdom as well as love?"

His surroundings at Concord are so vividly described in the letters he wrote to his family that we cannot omit quotations from them. The first of these is dated at Brook Farm, and describes his efforts to find a room after reaching the village. He seems to have gone at once to Mr. Bradford's house on his arrival.

"April 22, '44.-. . . After supper we sallied forth again. We saw a room, and what do you imagine they charged for it? Seventy-five dollars a year!! This was out of the question. We went further and found a room, good size, very good people, furnished, and to be kept in order for eight dollars a quarter. This seemed reasonable to me, and also to Mr. Bradford. I felt safe in telling the lady that I thought I should take it. I requested Mr. Bradford to keep a look-out for me while I was gone, and if we could not find a better place before I returned I would accept this. This morning I left Concord to come and see Charles Dana concerning the books I shall require, and to see some of my friends. I got into Boston at ten o'clock, and walked out here by dinner-time. All of the old set that are here were delighted to see me. I have conversed with a few of them, and find them more open to consider the claims of the Church than I had anticipated."

"Concord, April 24, '44.—Dear Friends: This evening I can say that I am settled, comfortably settled in every particular. All that is needed for my comfort is here: a good straw bed, a large table, carpet, washstand, book-case, stove, chairs, looking-glass—all, all that is needful. And this for seventy-five cents a week, including lights; wood is extra pay. This is the inanimate about me. The lady of the house, Mrs. Thoreau, is a woman. The only fear I have about her is that she is too much like dear mother—she will take too much care of me. She has told me how she used to sit up nights, waiting for a young man whom she had taken to board, to come home. He was a stranger to her, but still she insists that she must treat all as she would her own, and even with greater care. If you were to see her, mother, you would be perfectly satisfied that I have fallen into good hands, and met a second mother, if that is possible."

"April 25, 1:30 P.M.—I have just finished my dinner; it was ein herrliches Essen. Unleavened bread (from home), maple-sugar, and apples which I purchased this morning. Previous to taking dinner I said my first lesson to Mr. Bradford in Greek and Latin.

"I am extremely well situated, and feel contented in myself, and deeply grateful to you all for your goodness in helping me to pursue the real purpose of my being. All we can do is to be faithful to God and to the work He has given us to do, and, whatever end He may lead us to, to have that central faith that 'all is for the best.' There is only one life, and that is life in God; and only one death, and that is separation from Him. And this life is not and cannot be measured by the external eye. We must be fixed in God before we can do anything rightly—study, labor, social, political or of any kind. . . .

"I have written this letter full of nothingness; I will be more settled the next time and do better. Send all your love to me—think more of heaven and we shall grow happier. If once celestial love has touched us, we cannot rest until it dwells and abides in our hearts. To you all I send my warmest and purest love.—ISAAC."

"Concord, May 2, 1844.—Dear Friends: It was my intention not to write home until I had received a letter from you; but as none has yet come, and I am in want of a few things, I will write you immediately.

"You can scarcely imagine how different my life is now from what it was at home. It is like living in another world. It is possible that you might not be suited with the conditions here, but to me they are the very ones which are congenial to my present state of being. I am alone from early dawn to late at night; no one to intrude upon my quiet except Mr. Bradford, who occupies the hour between twelve and one to hear my recitations, and Mrs. Thoreau a few minutes in making my bed in the mornings. The rest of my time is devoted to study, communion, and, a little of it, to reading. How unlike the life at home!

"The thought just occurs to me that if such a life seems desirable to you, how easily you could obtain it. What is it that costs so much labor of mind and body? Is it not that which we consume on and in our bodies? Then, if we reduce the consumption there will be less need of production. Most of our labor is labor for the body. We are treasuring up corruption for the day of death; is this not so? As we rise in spirit above the body we shall bring all its appetites into subjection to the moral law. . . .

"This is what I should like you to do for me. All the food that I brought with me is gone, and as I would like to have my razor sent on, and as the articles you can give me would be better than any I can get here, you will be so kind as to send with it the following list, if you think best: 1. Put in some hard bread. 2. A few unleavened wheat biscuits, such as I used to make. 3. Some unleavened Graham biscuits. 4. A five-cent or ten-cent loaf of bread, if you think it will keep good until it gets here. 5. Get me a linen summer frock-coat such as are worn—those loose ones. Dunster has my measure and he can cut it for you. Let it be made. I have only a summer jacket with me, and that is John's. 6. Do not forget the razor. You can put in any other simple, solid food, if you wish to send any. Do I ask too much from you? If so, you must be kind enough to tell me. Your labor is already too great, and I am burdening you with more. . . .

"How much my heart loves you all! How unkindly I have spoken to you at times! You will forgive me and love me none the less, will you not? May we live together more and more in the unity of love."

"May, 1844.—. . . My studies are pursued with the same spirit in which they were commenced, and there seems to me no reason to fear but that they will be continued in the same for some time to come. However, I would affirm what has been affirmed by me for these two years back, the only consistency that I can promise is submission to the Spirit that is guiding me, whatever may be the external appearance or superficial consequences to others. . . .

"How our astonishment should be excited to perceive that we have been in such a long sleep, and that even now we see but dimly. Let us each ask ourselves in whose business we are employed. Is it our Father's, or is it not? If not, let us immediately turn to the business of our Father, the only object of our life. Let us submit wholly to the guidance of Love."

"TO MRS. CATHERINE J. HECKER. Concord, May 31, 1844.—You speak of my situation as pleasant, and so it is to me. Though the house is situated on the street of a village, the street is beautifully arched with trees for some distance, and my room is very pleasant. One window is wholly shaded by sweet honeysuckle, which is now in blossom, filling the room with its mild fragrance. The little humming-birds visit its flowers frequently without being disturbed by my presence."

The diary, which runs side by side with these letters, was, as usual, the recipient of more intimate self-communings than could be shared with any friend. It shows that although he was now well-nigh convinced of the truth of Catholicity, yet that he still felt a lingering indecision, produced, perhaps, by a haunting memory of the stern front of "discipline" he had encountered in Bishop Hughes. This seemed like a phantom of terror to the young social reformer, whose love of liberty, though rational, was then and ever afterwards one of the passions of his soul. Yet we rarely find now in these pages any statement of specific reasons for and against Catholicity such as were plentiful during the period preceding his acquaintance with Mr. Haight, Dr. Seabury, and Mr. Norris. He seems to shudder as he stands on the bank and looks upon the flowing and cleansing stream; but his hesitancy is caused not so much by any unanswered difficulties of his reason as by his sensibilities, by vague feelings of alarm for the integrity of his manhood. He feared lest the waters might cleanse him by skinning him alive. Catholicity, as typified in Bishop Hughes, her Celtic-American champion, seemed to him "a fortified city, and a pillar of iron, and a wall of brass against the whole land."

Now, Isaac Hecker was built for a missionary, and the extreme view of the primary value of highly-wrought discipline which he encountered everywhere among Catholics, though not enough to blind him to the essential liberty of the Church, was enough to delay him in his progress to her. There can be little doubt that multitudes of men and women of less discernment and feebler will than his, have been and still are kept entirely out of the Church by the same cause.

Only at long intervals, as we near the last pages of the large and closely-written book containing the first volume of his diary, do we meet with those agonizing complaints of dryness, the distress of doubt, the weary burden of insoluble difficulties, so common heretofore. He seems, indeed, no longer battling; be victory is won; but it remains to know what are the spoils and where they are to be gathered. Of course there are interludes of his irrepressible philosophizing on moral questions. And at the very end, under date of May 23, 1844, we find the following: