bluuebunny/crossref_metadata_2025_split huggingface dataset:
Green Pastures
Authors: Post J. Shrady 
Published: July 2007

Someone has said that all bad Americans go to Chicago when they die; hence perhaps we may infer that all good ones, granted they have any choice in the matter, go South. Even the Semitic gentleman pounding out popular songs in a grubby office just West of Broadway, has caught something of this tendency tp localise the national heart, and is perpetually admonishing the homesick, regardless of their original habitat, to wend their erring footsteps thither.Yqu cannot understand America unless you know something of the South; and you cannot know the South unless you understand something of the Negro, for it is the black Mammy who is really responsible for the shy friendliness, the gentle courtesy, the lovely mysticism of the little white boys and girls who grow up under her care.The oversight on the part of my otherwise estimable parents, which prevented me from being born in the South, was partly mitigated by the amply proportioned Mammy who came to rule over our nursery. Aside from her red bandanna and her gold ear-rings, her great fascination lay in the tradition that she was the daughter of a very gorgeous and very black African king. We were convinced that nothing but generations of the purple robe, the homage of prostrate natives and a possible diet of evangelical missionaries, could account for her supreme dignity or the proud lift of her white-haired head.After the manner of children, we loved and feared her alternately. There were moments, when in her simple piety, we were sure that she walked with the Lord, and others when we were equally positive that she consorted with the devil, beliefs coloured possibly by our own state of grace at the moment.
The Plough and the Mousie
Authors: Gilby Thomas 
Published: July 2007

There is a tendency to set up mathematics, in its frigid detachment and unreality, as the very pattern of a science, and even of philosophy. Here St. Thomas’s terse Aristotelianism in mathematicis non est bonum is appropriate to show the indifference of our deepest desires to such an abstraction. For they are attracted by the real which is primarily concrete; by a thing and not by a type; by what the scholastics would call the quod, in opposition to the quo.Yet you should hear some of the people most inclined to regiment a variable and highly individual reality into the uniformity of a system speaking on the Rationalisation of Industry! ‘Ne voyons nous,’ says M. Blondel, ‘se constituer sous nos yeux deux Thomismes, l'un qui est un instrument de verité, de recherche, de haute conduite, l’autre dont plusieurs voudraient faire un procédé administratif et une sorte de caporalisme intellectuel?’The Greeks were aware of the danger of sacrificing the real to the reason, which is almost forced on us by the nature of both, for knowledge must be general to be rational, and things must be individual to be real. Even the poets reflect this unhappy necessity of fixing the fleeting in the cold pastoral; of a Grecian urn. Small blame, then, to the scholastic who seems at times, perhaps unconsciously, to lapse into a Wolfian mood, and to confine his metaphysics to the eternal possible. The intellect is imagined to live its life in the world of essences, while the world of facts is just the haphazard outcropping of certain types; and just as number is neutral to anything from the unit upwards, so are essences with regard to fact-determinations which are, in consequence, almost destitute of intellectual value. Santanyana can be capped by the scholastic manual.
The Pope's Social Encyclical
Authors: McNabb Vincent 
Published: July 2007

As readers of Blackfriars are likely to have and to have read the Encylical itself, we shall have begun to satisfy our duty to our Holy Father if we call attention to some of its main statements and principles.It is just a little disconcerting that our Holy Father has to acknowledge that gratitude for the Rerum Novarum of Pope Leo XIII was not universal even among Catholics. Thus he is obliged to write of the Rerum Novarum :Despite this widespread agreement, however, some minds were not a little disturbed, with the result that the noble and exalted teaching of Leo XIII, quite novel to worldly ears, was looked upon with suspicion by some, even among Catholics.The same paternal rebuke of Catholics is to be found in another passage dealing with Workmen’s Associations or Trade Unions which had been advocated by Pope Leo XIII :The lesson was well timed. For at that period rulers of not a few nations were deeply infected with Liberalism, and regarded such unions of working-men with disfavour, if not with open hostility. There were even Catholics who viewed with suspicion the efforts of the labouring classes to form such unions, as if they reflected the spirit of Socialistic or revolutionary agitators.
Titchfield Abbey
Authors: Mott Agnes 
Published: July 2007

In a verdant field, bespangled with daisies, stand the ruins of a noble mansion once known as Palace House, Titchfield. A little to the right may be seen the soft grey tones of a Gothic window in a ruined wall, the relics of an ancient Abbey that once stood upon this site. At the rear is a large pond, formerly part of the Abbey Fishponds. High brick walls surround the turreted mansion with its Tudor chimneys, whilst an older stone wall abuts the ruined archway.The spot is peaceful and serene beyond compare; here and there are ancient timbered barns, whilst hard by flows the ‘silver Meon’ : the stream whose praises were so often sung by that famous fisherman, Izaac Walton. The river is spanned by an old bridge, at the side of which snugly lies a little Inn, ‘The Fisherman’s Rest.’ The undulating land is well wooded. Between the trees may be seen the old roofs of Titchfield village and the shingled spire of its Saxon Church.Sea-gulls swooping over the fields proclaim the nearness of the sea. Titchfield was once an important harbour in Hampshire, until the river was artificially blocked at its mouth and the sea marshes reclaimed for cultivation.
The Making of a Friar-Preacher
Authors: McNabb Vincent 
Published: July 2007

‘Friar William of Montserrat of the Order of Preachers having been sworn, said that some sixteen years ago or thereabouts he came to the Roman City, there to keep Lent.‘And the Lord Pope who now is who was then Bishop of Ostia received him into his house.‘In those days Friar Dominic, the inventor and first Master of the Order of Preachers, was at the Roman Court. He often came to the house of the Lord Bishop of Ostia. Hence from that time he had knowledge of him.‘The behaviour of the said Friar pleased him so that he began to love him. Very often he talked with him of what concerned the salvation of themselves and other men.‘Now it seemed to the witness that Friar Dominic was of great religious holiness, greater than any man he had ever seen, though the witness had spoken with many religious.Moreover it seemed to him that he was the greatest seeker Delator] of the salvation of mankind he had ever seen.‘In the same year he, the witness, went to Paris to hear Theology; because he had promised and given his word to him that after having read Theology for two years and he had put his brethren in order they would both go together to convert the Pagans who dwelt in Persia and other southern parts.’
Disarmament and Reparations
Authors: Parry M. Sidney 
Published: July 2007

One of the great questions of the day is disarmament, linked almost involuntarily though not of necessity with war debts and reparations. Appeals have been made for the nation to have the will to peace, and thus save the world from disaster. The ten years long discussions on disarmament have produced so far no very definite results. Nations still believe that without security no disarmament is possible. A pact to renounce war as a means of settling international disputes has been signed by all the leading nations of the world, and yet armaments increase, and preparations for a fresh war are being made, until today more money is being expended upon such preparations, and upon armaments, than was expended before 1914, when the storm broke over Europe and the world. Nations cry peace, when there is no peace in their hearts, as was frankly stated by the present Pope in his Encyclical of 1922.Why is there no peace? Because jealousies, greed, fear and hatred are still in men’s minds, says the Pope. They have forgotten the moral laws that guide individuals and are equally applicable to nations. All the more need is there for a reaffirmation of the Law of Nations. Up to the Middle Ages men respected the Canon Law of the Church : they looked to the See of Peter as the exponent of the Moral Law, codified as it is on the Canon Law of the Church. That Law of Nations, which is, in itself, the embodiment of the Natural Law, implanted in men’s minds by the Creator, is a guide to men’s lives in their private dealings. Thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.
Light—Or Otherwise—On ‘The Leakage’
Authors: Devas Dominic 
Published: July 2007

One is somewhat at a loss to know whether the fact that so much is being written on the so-called ‘leakage’ question necessitates an apology for adding yet more, or affords an excuse for so doing. Acting on the latter hypothesis, I propose to hazard on paper a few thoughts on the subject, based mainly on experience gathered when giving Missions,And to begin with I would ask the question : is the leakage—lamentable as all admit it to be—larger than we ought to expect? In this connection we should surely bear in mind two important factors—firstly, the great increase in our numbers during the last hundred years, together with the evident fact that we are no longer a secluded body, but mingle far more freely than of old with our non-Catholic neighbours; and, secondly, that the non-Catholic world round about us has altered almost beyond recognition so as to merit with some show of truth the epithet pagan so often applied to it. Not so long ago, in days which men of forty can easily recall, certain accepted Christian standards of morality and church-going were as vigorously maintained outside the Catholic Church as within. This no longer holds good, and the young Catholic, in moving outside his own Catholic circle, almost necessarily mingles with militant irreligion; militant because, though seldom avowedly such, to ignore religion is tantamount to proclaiming its futility.
Two Oriel Men in Ireland
Authors: Quigley E. J. 
Published: July 2007

Two Fellows of Oriel walked daily in the calm and classic ways of Oxford. They were bosom friends, and, men said, kindred spirits, burning and shining lights of their college, then the leading Oxford college in culture, studies, and famous names. The elder, tall, strenuous, robust, talked didactically, rather pompously, but with precision of thought and word. He was an author of text-books on Logic and on Rhetoric, and on the Johnsonian principle, that ‘who drives fat cattle should himself be fat,’ was a living embodiment of the science and the art of accurate thinking and correct phrasing. He was Richard Whately (1787-1863).The delicate, pale youth by his side, another Fellow of Oriel, listened and learned from Whately—and learned with lasting profit to himself and to the men of all time, logic and rhetoric. Both were parsons, staunch Protestants. In their walks several times they met poor strolling Irishmen, ragged, hungry Papists, toilers from the fields, beggars, ballad singers. The dons were almost heedless, unobservant of the poor human clods, their religion, their country. If any seer or sybil had told those master-thinkers that one of them would become a bitter opponent of the faith and fortunes of Ireland, as a leader of politics and religion in the fateful isle, and that the other would after a forlorn expedition come to love Ireland and be a prince of her faith—both Richard Whately and John Henry Newman would have laughed, logical and rhetorical laughs. Yet Fate destined the Oriel men to drift, to part, and to live in Dublin, not under the same roof as at St. Alban’s Hall and at Oriel, but within five minutes’ walk of each other’s houses.
The Meaning of Conscience
Authors: Carpenter Hilary J. 
Published: July 2007

Conscience is a fact of common experience. It will be universally recognised that there is within the human consciousness some principle, some norm or measure, apparently unbiassed and involuntary, which seems to claim authority in regulating or attempting to regulate what is known as moral conduct. In other words, there is something of the Jekyll and Hyde in every man, and broadly speaking Jekyll is the personification of the voice of Conscience. But while there is universal recognition of the fact, there is less unanimity as to the precise significance of the fact of conscience. In a broad division there are two opposite views, in one of which conscience appears as rational, in the other as emotional. The latter is the view adopted by modern experimental psychologists in their attempt to analyse ‘moral consciousness.’‘Moral consciousness’ is the somewhat undefined name given nowadays to the complexity of emotions and instincts which precede, accompany and follow a moral act, producing feelings of ‘moral’ satisfaction or disquietude as the case may be. Upon examination, however, it is found that all these emotions and instincts are placed in the order of bodily reactions to stimuli. They are confined, in other words, almost entirely to the material order, and in effect the highest and especially human faculties, namely reason and rational will, are disregarded or eliminated. This position, it should be noted, is justified by the circumstances in the sense that it represents the findings of purely experimental psychology. No one should be so foolish as to deny the authority of any science within its own sphere. It is only when any science presumes to argue to conclusions outside its own sphere that it lays itself open to criticism from without.
The Cockroach and the Tortoise
Authors: Delany Bernard 
Published: July 2007

‘When Colin March, a younger son of the famous diplomatist, played in a British Embassy garden abroad, his foreign nurse gave him a tortoise. “A useful beast,” she explained, “it devours cockroaches; they are its passion.” Colin wanted to see this beneficent passion at work. So he captured one of the Embassy’s many cockroaches and put it down in front of the tortoise’s nose, like an early Christian presented to a lion. The tortoise eyed the offered feast, and mused deeply. The cockroach did not muse. It was a cockroach of action. Without any apparent need for reflection it bolted for cover, like a flash of blackness, right into the tortoise’s shell, and hid itself in that profounder thinker’s armpit.‘The cadet of a dynasty of ambassadors was charmed with the cockroach’s wit. He filed the whole affair in a pigeon-hole of his ‘cute little mind. As he grew up, he would often chuckle to think of it. Piquant parallels would occur to him. For a fox to go to earth under the kennels, for landsmen to put to sea to escape from a press-gang, for cannon-fodder to hide at the back of the cannon—this was the wisdom of life put into a kind of practical epigram, salt and impudent.’
Wowsers
Authors: O'Connor John 
Published: July 2007

Example is the best definition,’ says Sainte-Beuve. Far from it, say we. It is the easiest, as small boys find out before their preceptors. It is the test, the touchstone of definition, but it is not definition, so how can it be the best? French clarity, where art thou?Now what is a Wowser? It would be easy to define by examples. Stiggins and Chadband were Wowsers with a difference : they embodied only a sect, a thing, virulent and intense; even if drowned in Dickens’s scorn of all the tribe. The thing was extant in his day (when has it not been?), but the inspired nomenclature was in the womb of time, if this be not an indecent expression by now (for the Wowser works like the coral insect, defiling words deep down by identifying them with defilement in his imagination, and he rages like the tempest against Beauty and her father, Freedom-of-Heart, and her mother, Simplicity).
Bolshevism, The New Sectarianism
Authors: Gilburgh N. W. T. 
Published: July 2007

The present weakness of Western civilization may be more apparent than real, and in part the exaggeration of a press-hysteria which, concentrating on the plight of the modern and mushroom centres of industry and finance, makes little account of the deep-rooted strength which Europe draws from its countryside, traditions, and religion—convictions inarticulate perhaps, but largely operative. Still, a menace to our culture looms so heavily on the Eastern frontier, and its economic achievement is so impressive, its application of the dialectic of materialism so ruthless and complete, and its direction so intelligent, that it is easy to be overawed by the mere size of Bolshevism, to admit over-readily its claim to a universalism, and, granting it a weight in the order of ideas which it certainly possesses in the order of fact, to miss seeing it for what it is, a sect.Then, considering its anti-God campaign and its emphasis on economical and mechanical facts to the exclusion of any other, thinking of it as a resolute common-sensism that scoffs at everything it cannot see, picturing it in a bright hard light and religion as a thing for the twilight, it is easy to pass over the fact that the whole movement derives its impetus from the worship of an ideal every bit as slavish as that of the religion it displaced, and without the justification. Prostration to the lord of eternal life and death is at any rate a pretty natural sort of attitude; abasement before a man-made projection, an ens rationis, the human herd considered as an economic group, however vast the herd, however insistent the economic pressure, is a definite degradation.
The Seed that Grew Secretly
Authors: McNabb Vincent 
Published: July 2007

‘And He said : the Kingdom of God is as if a man should cast seed into the earth—and should sleep—and should rise night and day—and the seed should spring and grow up whilst he knoweth it not.For the earth of itself bringeth forth fruit—first the blade—then the ear—afterwards the full corn in the ears.And when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come.’ [Mark iv, 26—29.]10th May, 1932. Eureka! To-day in a home of contemplative nuns to whom I am presuming to give a retreat, I seem to have found what for years I have sought in vain to find. St. Mark, who has so few parables, has yet this one that is to be found in no other gospel. The questions that have troubled me for years were, first, if St. Matthew and St. Luke knew of this parable, why did they pass over it? and, secondly, why did St. Mark, that is St. Peter, think it should not be passed over?
Twixt Serre and Hebuterne
Authors: Devas Dominic 
Published: July 2007

It was on a day in early March of this year, with a cloudless blue sky overhead, that I stepped carefully off the muddy track on to the little strip of ‘sown field’ —with the blades of wheat, brilliantly green, just showing above ground—which separated me from Luke Copse Cemetery. This tiny spot, ‘for ever England,’ lies just over the old German lines that for so long lay, an impassable barrier, between Hébuterne and Serre.I had come up that morning by car from Amiens. We had bowled along the great road to Albert in smooth security. The driver—who had done this kind of work often before—began by being vastly communicative. I must see the old G.H.Q. at Querieu Château; but it had meant little to me during the war years, and meant less than ever to me now. Then there was the bold notice painted in English on a barn wall, Dangerous Corner; that, too, I must note. Reminiscences of 1870 began to brim over his practised lips; a cemetery on the left, a monument on the right. But I was dull to respond; memories were marshalling themselves anew, stirring out of their long slumbers, awakening at contact with the familiar slopes of Picardy : that road there, on the left, it recalls a march —its destination long since forgotten, not even now to be recalled—but, somehow, clear as crystal, is the memory of that moving column, and myself a tiny part of it.
Charles Kendal Bushe
Authors: Gwynn Denis 
Published: July 2007

Among all the vivid characters which Ireland produced during Grattan’s Parliament and the following decades, the memory of Charles Kendal Bushe retains a singular freshness and gracious charm. His chief fame was as an orator and a pleader in the law courts. Charles Lever has paid tribute, in his Jack Hinton, to ‘the elegance of manner and classical perfection of wit that made Bushe the Cicero of his nation.’ Outside of Ireland his fame is less widely known; and the printers may well be pardoned for having altered the name Bushe to Burke in the first edition of Jack Hinton. This memoir of him, compiled as a labour of love by his great-grand-daughter, assisted by the old box of his papers bequeathed to her by her cousin and collaborator the late Martin Ross, presents a delightful picture of a very lovable man. Handsomely produced and copiously illustrated with portraits and with many amusing little sketches which recall the inimitable humour of the ‘Irish R.M.,’ the memoir would surely have delighted that elegant and courteous gentleman who was so devoted to his family life all through a career of great public distinction and success.Students of the history of Catholic Emancipation will be familiar with Bushe as one of the generous-minded Protestants who in a period of shameless corruption and indifference to public justice was always a champion of Catholic claims to equality before the law. Miss Somerville might have added many striking tributes to him from the Catholic side.
An English Diarist and the Church
Authors: Preedy John 
Published: July 2007

It has been said of the Dictionary of National Biography that its compilation has permanently put out of employment the writers of what used to be called the Miscellanies. Drudging, uninspired work it was, this labour of the writer of miscellanies, yet one may have a feeling of sympathy for the painstaking and reasonably honest workman who might have earned his bread for a day or two by quarrying in the pages of the Greville Diary.My edition of Greville is that of Philip Whitwell Wilson, published by Heinemann in 1927. The editor informs us that nothing printable has been suppressed, and that only a rare and irrelevant vulgarity of the stables has been omitted. There is since, I believe, a more complete edition.Within the limits of the edition before me, there are occasional passages of interest to any Catholic with a relish for the quaint or the unexpected. There are the usual reactions characteristic of the fair-minded Protestant of the period, to Catholic persons and institutions, and to what we may call Catholic aspirations, whether religious or political. We know the kind of thing a Protestant Englishman of the period would think and say about the Popes and the Temporal Power, Daniel O’Connell and the Irish, Mazzim and united Italy. We know all this, and need not trouble to reproduce what Charles Greville thought, said, or wrote on these matters. But it may be at least of passing interest to read of a few of the contacts made with the Catholic Church by a cultured man of affairs in the early Victorian age of the world, the English world.