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[Biography] Camillo Berneri (1897-1937) Philosopher, teacher and international brigadist murdered by stalinists during the Spanish Civil War
submitted by ZenoAtharax to Anarchism
The life of famous Italian anarchist, Luigi Camillo Berneri, who was assassinated by Stalinists during the Spanish Civil War.
Source (LibCom) (Translated by David Short)
Luigi Camillo Berneri was born on 20th July 1897 in Lodi, in Lombardy, Northern Italy. His father was a self-educated local civil servant; his mother, Adalgisa Fochi, a primary school teacher who wrote on education, and was involved in conferences and projects for the promotion of literacy. Her father was one of Garibaldi's Redshirts, whereas her grandfather had been a member of the 'Carbonari' secret society, and a follower of Mazzini.
Camillo had an eventful childhood. Malnutrition having brought him near death at only a few months old, his family moved to Milan, where his mother started to write for an education magazine. In 1904 he was in Palermo, Sicily, where he came down with typhus. In 1905, he lived in the towns of Cesena and Forlí in Romagna, the "reddest" and most republican region in the kingdom. In Varallo Sesia, Berneri fell ill with enteritis. However, only with the move to Reggio Emilia did political activity begin for Camillo Berneri.
He was already a member of the Italian Socialist Youth Federation (FGS) when, in 1912, they held their Congress in his town, one of the first in Italy to be governed by a leftist administration. Berneri was a member of the "culturist" tendency, that is to say he maintained the importance of the Party as a vehicle to bring cultural enlightenment to the masses, in order to make them aware of their rights. On 1st February 1914, he wrote his first article for 'l'Avanguardia' (titled "The Lies of the Old Testament"), a piece full of attacks on the clergy, in the style of the young Mussolini, who was still a socialist at that time. Lido Caiani, the editor of 'l'Avanguardia', had not long followed Mussolini in adopting an "interventionist" position (that is, in favour of declaring war on Austria-Hungary), before Berneri, with the help of Amadeo Bordiga (who would found the Italian Communist Party (PCd'I) in 1921), managed to kick him out of the paper.
Berneri's conflicts with the Socialist Party followed the riots in Reggio Emilia which took place during the rally organized by Cesare Battisti, the pro-intervention ex-socialist from Trento. The Party's official position on the war became an ambiguous "neither support nor sabotage". But Berneri, absolutely against the war, left the Central Committee of the Socialist Federation of Reggio Emilia, and befriended Torquato Gobbi, a twenty-year-old anarchist bookbinder. Berneri met and married Giovanna Caleffi, a clever and hardworking sixteen-year-old anarchist. She would become his life-long companion, inspiring him to write "A harem lacks variety compared to a woman with whom you are deeply in love".
On being conscripted, Berneri, now an anarchist, started to agitate in the army, even amongst officers, for which he was gaoled on Pianosa, near the Isle of Elba.
After the war had ended, he joined up with Errico Malatesta, recently back from his period of exile, and worked with him on 'Umanità Nova'. But he also worked with non-anarchist anti-authoritarian magazines such as Piero Gobetti's 'Rivoluzione Liberale' (whose founder would die exiled in Paris following a fascist beating). In Florence, he visited Piero Calamandrei (later an Action Party anti-Nazi and "father" of the Italian democratic constitution), and Nello and Carlo Rosselli, with whom he attended Gaetano Salvemini's university lectures. They were all agreed on a policy of persistence and determination in the face of the fascist squads' attacks. Berneri also went to Bonaventura's psychoanalysis classes, which would turn out to be useful when he wrote an essay on the psychology of Benito Mussolini.
He had to leave Florence due to fascist persecution and he withdrew to Umbria to teach in a teacher-training school. Because of his continuing political propaganda, he was forced to flee to France with his wife and daughters.
He was expelled from France as a "dangerous anarchist", and then proceeded to be kicked out of Belgium, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, Germany and Spain. At that point, unable to be expelled into any other country, he could legally reside in France.
In 1930s Paris he earned a living with a little shop where he welcomed the most wanted Italian exiles and did filing work in libraries and on newspapers on behalf of Salvemini, his anti-fascist professor.
Problems arose when Guido Miglioli, an anti-fascist Catholic, introduced him to, and vouched for, one Ermanno Menapace. Menapace was not, however, an anti-fascist exile, but a dangerous agent of the OVRA, the fascist regime's secret political police. The infiltrator exploited the divisions that had arisen between Berneri and Giuseppe Donati, giving Berneri money to help him to publish writings against Donati, a Catholic anti-fascist who had accused the regime of the murders of Matteotti and Giovanni Minzoni, a parish priest from Argenta. Donati was also approached by an OVRA infiltrator, who, in turn, subsidized his writings against Berneri.
The situation became more complicated when Carlo Rosselli and Emilio Dolci managed to escape from Italian prisons and reach Paris. A series of bombs exploded in Nice and in bars in Cannes. The responsibility lay with the fascist regime, who expected the anarchists to be blamed, forcing the French government to repatriate them. In the meantime, Camillo Berneri had been preparing an 'attentat' on Alfredo Rocco, the man behind the infamous Rocco Penal Code , during his Brussels visit. Menapace arranged it so that Berneri would be arrested in Belgium, in possession of a pistol and some photographs of the Minister of Justice, Rocco. So he was captured and Menapace returned to Rome. In court on 22nd February 1930, Berneri's friends were acquitted, but he himself was sentenced to six months in prison, while Menapace was sentenced 'in absentia' to two years, since it was accepted that he instigated the whole thing. Once back on the other side of the Franco-Belgian border, Berneri went through a second trial for the same events and was sentenced to a year and two months. He was given amnesty on 14th July 1931 and expelled from the country, but, as he had already been declared undesirable ('persona non grata') in the surrounding countries, Berneri was again able to stay in Paris.
His life in Paris went on with the job of drafting texts and trying to convert Italian exiles to anarchism. In this period his daughter married the English anarchist Vernon Richards, who subsequently wrote a text on Malatesta and took part in the Spanish Civil War.
His numerous libertarian articles in the widest variety of European and North-American publications show how prolific a writer Berneri was. Among his more notable works are his studies on Mussolini's psychology, in which the 'Duce' is seen not as a theatrical fool, but as a cunning politician who knew how to use theatrical tricks to subdue the masses (unlike Gramsci, who saw in the dictator the buffoon, not the politician). Another important subject was anti-Semitism, analysed not only in 'El delirio racista' (Racist Delirium) and in 'Le Juif antisémite' (The Jewish Anti-Semite), but in many letters to friends. He analysed the "self-hate" expressed by many Marxist Jews and attacked Marx himself for his embarrassed silence on the Jewish question. Anticipating the Holocaust, Berneri wrote "Anti-Semitism will be one of mankind's favourite forms of stupidity for some time to come". His sympathy for the Jews was due to the fascination he had for those with no country; he wrote "the stateless are the best suited to form the bases of the great human family". Sadly, fascist Jews in Turin, who would, a year later, endure the Italian race laws of 1938, attacked his 'Le Juif anti-semite' in their magazine 'La Nostra Bandiera'.
Berneri's theoretical attack on the concept of the State came with his identification of bureaucracy as a tool of oppression of the centralist State whether bourgeois or "Soviet". This led, unsurprisingly, to much controversy between him and Trotsky. Trotsky saw the Soviet bureaucracy as a "historical absurdity"; for Berneri it was not an absurdity, but a natural consequence of trying to maintain the State apparatus, which had not led to Soviet society being "classless", but to a division between proletarians and autocratic bureaucrats.
On 12th July 1936, news of the 'coup d'état' in Spain reached Paris. With the slogan "Today Spain, tomorrow Italy" on their lips, the Italian anti-fascists got ready to leave. On the 25th, Berneri arrived in Catalonia with a cargo of rifles and ammunition. He was immediately offered there a position in the Council of the Economy, but he refused as soon as he realized he was dealing with a government ministry.
Berneri instead hosted a rally before 100,000 people in Plaza de los Toros, in Barcelona, bringing with him the greetings of the Italian anarchists and their solidarity with the Catalan revolution.
So, with Angeloni and de Santillán (from the CNT-FAI), he organized an Italian anarchist column within the Francisco Ascaso formation in the Pedralbes barracks (renamed "Bakunin"), and on 19th August, he left the exultant crowds of Barcelona for the Aragonese front. On the 21st they arrived at Vicien and occupied the Galocha upland plain, dominating the road between Huesca and Saragossa. On 23rd August he took part in the harsh engagements on the "bare mountain", where the anarchists Angeloni, Perrone and Centrone died, Angeloni singing the Internationale. But the attacking Nationalist troops were completely driven back. Because of problems with his vision and hearing, Berneri was sent back from the front and returned to Barcelona.
In Barcelona, he tried to warn people about the important implications of the imminent fascist landings in the Balearic Isles, did propaganda work, attacked the Madrid government for its politics of compromise which were damaging Catalan autonomy, and criticised the ambiguous behaviour of the French and English governments. He wrote for 'Guerra di Classe', and often visited the 'Amigos de Durruti'.
When clashes with the Communist Party broke out, his house, where he lived with other anarchists, was attacked on 4th May 1937. They were all labelled "counter-revolutionaries", disarmed, deprived of their papers and forbidden to go out into the street. There was still shooting in the streets when, on 5th May 1937, news arrived from Italy of Antonio Gramsci's death in a fascist prison. Then, after writing his last letter home to his daughter, his final emotional testament, Berneri went out and walked towards Radio Barcelona where they were commemorating the death of Gramsci, who had written in 'Ordine Nuovo':
"We must never permit ourselves to be enemies of the anarchists; enemies have contradictory ideas, not merely different ones".
Leaving Radio Barcelona, Berneri set off for the Plaça de la Generalitat, where some Stalinists shouted after him. Before he could turn and look, they opened fire with machine guns, and left his dead body there on the street.
[Written by Toni, translated from Italian by David Short] (Edited by libcom)
Endnotes  Garibaldi: Left-wing Italian national liberation leader  Italian for "charcoal burners". The Carbonari were an early 19th-century masonically-organized bourgeois constitutionalist grouping.  Mazzini: Republican nationalist leader.  Still in effect today in the Italian "Democratic" Republic.
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By John Lord, LL. D. PAULA. WOMAN AS FRIEND. (ii.) Strange it is that such a friendship was found in the most corrupt, conventional, luxurious city of the empire. It is not in cities that friendship are sup- posed to thrive. People in great towns are too pre- occupied, too busy, too distracted to shine in those amenities which require peace and rest and leisure. Bacon quotes the Latin adage, Magna civitas, magna solitudo. It is in cities where real solitude dwells, since friends re scattered, "and crowds are not company, and faces are only as a gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love." The history of Jerome and Paula suggests another reflection,——that the friendship which would have im- mortalized them, had they not other and higher claims to the remembrance and gratitude of mankind, rarely exists except with equals. There must be sympathy in the outward relations of life, as we are constituted, in order for men and women to understand each other. Friendship is not philanthropy: it is a refined and subtile sentiment which binds hearts together in similar labors and experiences. It must be confessed it is ex- clusive, esoteric,——a sort of moral freemasonry. Jerome, and the great bishop, and the illustrious ladies to whom I allude, all belonged to the same social ranks. They spent their leisure hours together, read the same books, and kindled at the same sentiments. In their charmed circle they unbent; indulged, perchance, in ironical sal- lies on the follies they alike despised. They freed their minds, as Cicero did to Atticus; they said things to each other which they might have hesitated to say in public, or among fools and dunces. I can conceive that those austere people were sometimes even merry and jocose. The ignorant would not have understood their learned allusions; the narrow-minded might have been shocked at the treatment of their shibboleths; the vulgar would have repelled them by coarseness; the sensual would have disgusted them by their lower tastes. There can be no true harmony among friends when their sensibilities are shocked, or their views are discrepant. How could Jerome or Paula have dis- coursed with enthusiasm of the fascinations of Eastern travel to those who had no desire to see the sacred places; or of the charms of Grecian literature to those who could talk only in Latin; or of the corrupting music of the poets to people of perverted taste; or of the sublimity of the Hebrew prophets to those who despised the Jews; or of the luxury pf charity to those who had no superfluities; or of the beatitudes of the passive virtues to soldiers; or of the mysteries of faith to speculating rationalists; or of the greatness of the infinite to those who lived in passing events? A Jewish prophet must have seemed a rhapsodist to Athenian critics, and a Grecian philosopher a conceited cynic to a converted fisherman of Galilee,——even as a boastful Darwinite would be repulsive to a believer in the active interference of the moral Governor of the universe. Even Luther might not have admired Michael Angelo, any more than the great artist did the courtiers of Julius II.; and John Knox might have denounced Lord Bacon as a Gallio for advocating moderate measures of reform. The courtly Bossuet would not probably have sympa- thized with Baxter, even when both discoursed on the eternal gulf between reason and faith. Jesus——the wandering, weary Man of Sorrows——loved Mary and Martha and Lazarus; but Jesus, in the hour of su- preme grief, allowed the most spiritual and intellect- ual of his disciples to lean on his bosom. It was the son of a king whom David cherished with a love sur- passing the love of a woman. It was to Plato that Soc- rates communicated his moral wisdom, it was with cultivated youth that Augustine surrounded himself in the gardens of Como; Cæsar walked with Antony, and Cassius with Brutus; it was to Madame de Maintenon that Fénelon poured out the riches of his intellect, and the lofty Saint Cyran opened to Mère Angelique the sorrows of his soul. We associate Aspasia with Pericles; Cicero with Atticus; Héloise with Abélard; Hildebrand with Countess Matilda; Michael Angelo with Vittoria Colonna; Cardinal de Retz with the Duchess de Longueville; Dr. Johnson with Hannah More. Those who have no friends delight most in the plaudits of a plebeian crowd. A philosopher who associates with the vulgar is neither an oracle nor a guide. A rich man's son who fraternizes with hostlers will not long grace a party of ladies and gentlemen. A politician who shakes hands with the rabble will lose as much in influence as he gains in power. In spite of envy, poets cling to poets and artists to artists. Genius, like a magnet, draws only congenial natures to itself. Had a well-bred and titled fool been admitted into the Turk's-Head Club, he might have been the butt of good-natured irony; but he would have been endured, since gentlemen must live with gentlemen and scholars with scholars, and the rivalries which alienate are not so destructive as the grossness which repels. More genial were the festivities of a feudal castle than any banquet between Jews and Samaritans. Had not Mrs. Thrale been a woman of intellect and sensibil- ity, the hospitalities she extended to Johnson would have been as irksome as the dinners given to Robert Hall by his plebeian parishioners; and had not Mrs. Unwin been as refined as she was sympathetic, she would never have soothed the morbid melancholy of Cowper, while the attentions of a fussy, fidgety, talk- ative, busy wife of a London shopkeeper would have driven him absolutely mad, even if her disposition had been as kind as that of Dorcas, and her piety as warm as that of Phœbe. Paula was to Jerome what Arbella Johnson was to John Winthrop, because their tastes, their habits, their associations, and their studies were the same,——they were equals in rank, in culture, and perhaps in intellect. But I would not give the impression that congenial tastes and habits and associations formed the basis of the holy friendship between Paula and Jerome. The fountain and life of it was that love which radiated from the Cross,——an absorbing desire to extend the re- ligion which saves the world. Without this foundation their friendship might have been transient, subject to caprice and circumstances,——like the gay intercourse between the wits who assembled at the Hôtel de Ram- bouillet, or the sentimental affinities which bind to- gether young men at college or young girls at school, when their vows of undying attachment are so often forgotten in the hard struggles or empty vanities of subsequent life. Circumstances and affinities produced those friendships, and circumstances or time dissolved them,——like the merry meetings of Prince Hal and Falstaff; like the companionship of curious or ennuied travellers o the heights of Righi or in the gallantries of Florence. The cord which binds together the selfish and the worldly in the quest for pleasure, in the search for gain, in the toil for honors, at a bacchanalian feast, in a Presidential canvass, on a journey to Niagara,—— is a rope of sand; a truth which the experienced know, yet which is so bitter to learn. It is profound philoso- phy, as well as religious experience, which confirms this solemn truth. The soul can repose only on the cer- titudes of heaven; those who are joined together by the gospel feel alike the misery of the fall and the glory of the restoration. The impressive earnestness which over- powers the mind when eternal and momentous truths are the subjects of discourse binds people together with a force of sympathy which cannot be produced by the sublimity of a mountain or the beauty of a picture. And this enables them to bear each other's burdens, and hide each other's faults, and soothe each other's resentments; to praise without hypocrisy, re- buke without malice, rejoice without envy, and assist without ostentation. The divine sympathy alone can break up selfishness, vanity, and pride. It produces sin- cerity, truthfulness, disinterestedness,——without which any friendship will die. It is not the remembrance of pleasure which keeps alive a friendship, but the perception of virtues. How can that live which is based on corruption or a falsehood? Anything sen- sual in friendship passes away, and leaves a re- siduum of self-reproach, or undermines esteem. That which preserves undying beauty and sacred harmony and celestial glory is wholly based on the spiritual in man, on moral excellence, on the joys of an eman- cipated soul. It is not easy, in the giddy hours of temptation or folly, to keep this truth in mind, but it can be demonstrated by the experience of every strug- gling character. The soul that seeks the infinite and imperishable can be firmly knit only to those who live in the realm of adoration,——the adoration of beauty, or truth, or love; and unless a man or woman does prefer the infinite to the finite, the permanent to the transient, the true to the false, the incorruptible to the corrupti- ble there is not even the capacity of friendship, unless a low view be taken of it to advance our interests, or enjoy passing pleasures which finally end in bitter disappointments and deep disgusts. Moreover, there must be in lofty friendship not only congenial tastes, and an aspiration after the imperish- able and true, but some common end which both parties strive to secure, and which they love better than they love themselves. Without this common end, friendship might wear itself out, or expend itself in things un- worthy of an exalted purpose. Neither brilliant con- versation, nor mutual courtesies, nor active sympathies will make social intercourse a perpetual charm. We tire of everything, at times, except the felicities of a pure and fervid love. But even husband and wife might tire without the common guardianship of chil- dren, or kindred zeal in some practical aims which both alike seek to secure; for they are helpmates as well as companions. Much more is it necessary for those who are not tied together in connubial bonds to have some common purpose in education, in philanthropy, in art, in religion. Such was pre-eminently the case with Paula and Jerome. They were equally devoted to a cause which was greater than themselves. And this was the extension of monastic life, which in their day was the object of boundless veneration. It was fostered by the early Church, indorsed by the authority of sainted doctors and martyrs, and resplen- dent in the glories of self-sacrifice and religious contem- plation. At that time its subtile contradictions were not perceived, nor its practical evils developed. It was not a disappointed old recluse, but a chaste and en- thusiastic virgin, rejoicing in poverty and self-denial, jubilant with songs of adoration, seeking the solution of mysteries, wrapt in celestial reveries, yet going forth from dreary cells to fee the hungry and clothe the naked, and still more, to give spiritual consolations to the poor and miserable. It was a great scheme of phi- lanthropy, as well as a haven of rest. It was always sombre in its attire, ascetic in its habits, firm-set in its dogmas, secluded in its life, narrow in its views, and resolute in its austerities; but its leaders and dignitaries did not entertain under their coarse raiments either ambition, or avarice, or gluttony. They did not live in stately abbeys, nor ride on mules with gilded bridles, nor entertain people of ran and fashion, nor hunt here- tics with fire and sword, nor dictate to princes in affairs of state, nor go to the extremes which human adminis- tration of even divine institutions tends to develope, es- ecially in the exciting realm of religion. Pagan or Moslem, Jewish or Christian, Catholic or Protestant, the danger is ever present of passions aroused by in- flamed consciences, of spiritualities materialized and degraded. But this strange contradiction of glory in debasement and debasement in glory (type of the great- ness and little of man), was not then matured, but was resplendent with virtues which extort esteem,—— chastity, poverty, and obedience, devotion to the miser- able, a lofty faith which spurned the finite, an un- bounded charity amid the wreck of the dissolving world. As I have before said, it was a protest which perhaps the age demanded. The vow of poverty was a rebuke to that venal and grasping spirit which made riches the end of life; the vow of chastity was the reso- tution to escape the degrading sensuality which was one of the greatest evils of the time; and the vow of obedi- ence was the recogniton of authority amid the disintegra- tions of society. The monk would show that a cell could be the blessed retreat of learning and philosophy, and that even in a desert the soul could rise triumphant above the privations of the body, to the contemplation of immortal interests. For this exalted life, as it seemed to the saint of the fourth century,——seclusion from a wicked world, leisure for study and repose, and a state favorable to Christian perfection,——both Paula and Jerome panted: he, that he might be more free to translate the Scrip- tures and write his commentaries, and to commune with God; she, to minister to his wants. stimulate his labors, enjoy the beatific visions and set a proud exam- ple of the happiness to be enjoyed amid barren rocks or scorching sands. At Rome, Jerome was interrupted, diverted, disgusted. What was a Vanity Fair, a Babel of jargons, a school for scandals, a mart of lies, an arena of passions, an atmosphere of poisons, such as that city was, in spite of wonders of art and trophies of victory and contributions of genius, to a man who loved the certitudes of heaven, and sought to escape from the entangling influences which were a hindrance to his studies and his friendships? And what was Rome to an emancipated woman, who scorned luxuries and demoralizing pleasure, and who was perpetually shocked by the degradation of her own sex even amid intoxicating social triumphs, by their devotion to frivolous pleasures, love of dress and ornament, elaborate hair-dressings, idle gossipings, dangerous dalliances, inglorious pursuits, silly trifles, emptiness, vanity, and sin? "But in the country," writes Jerome, "it is true our bread will be coarse, our drink water, and our vegetables we must raise with our own hands; but sleep will not snatch us from agreeable discourse, nor satiety fro the pleas- ures of study. In the summer the shade of the trees will give us shelter, and in the autumn the falling leaves a place of repose. The fields will be painted with flowers, and amid the warbling of birds we will more cheerfully chant our songs of praise." So, filled with such desires, and possessing such sim- plicity of tastes,——an enigma, I grant, to an age like ours, as indeed it may have been to his,——Jerome bade adieu to the honors and luxuries and excitements of the great city (without which even a Cicero languished) and embarked at Ostia, A. D. 385, for those regions con- secrated by the sufferings of Christ. Two years after- wards, Paula, with her daughter, joined him at Antioch, and with a numerous party of friends made an exten- sive tour in the East, previous to a final settlement in Bethlehem. They were everywhere received with the honors usually bestowed on princes and conquerors. At Cyprus, Sidon, Ptolemais, Cæsarea, and Jerusalem these distinguished travellers were entertained by Christian bishops, and crowds pressed forward to receive their benediction. The Proconsul of Palestine prepared his palace for their reception, and the rulers of every great city besought the honor of a visit. But they did not tarry until they reached the Holy Sepulchre, until they had kissed the stone which covered the remains of the Saviour of the world. Then they continued their jour- ney, ascending the heights of Hebron, visiting the house of Mary and Martha, passing through Samaria, sailing on the lake of Tiberias, crossing the brook of Cedron, and ascending the Mount of Transfiguration. Nor did they rest with a visit to the sacred places hallowed by asso- ciations with kings and prophets and patriarchs. They journeyed into Egypt, and, by the route taken by Jo- seph and Mary in their flight, entered the sacred schools of Alexandria, visited the cells of Nitria, and stood beside the ruins of the temples of the Pharaohs. A whole year was thus consumed by the illustrious party,——learning more than they could in ten years from books, since every monument and relic was ex- plained to them by the most learned men on earth. Finally they returned to Bethlehem, the spot which Jerome had selected for his final resting-place, and there Paula built a convent near to the cell of her friend, which she caused to be excavated from the solid rock. It was there that he performed his mighty literary labors, and it was there that his happiest days were spent. Paula was near, to supply his simple wants, and give, with other pious travellers, all the society he required. He lived in a cave, it is true, but in a way afterwards imitated by the penitent heroes of the Fronde in the vale of Chevreuse; and it was not dis- agreeable to a man sickened with the world, absorbed in literary labors, and whose solitude was relieved by visits from accomplished women and illustrious bishops and scholars. Fabiola, with a splendid train, came from Rome to listen to his wisdom. Not only did he translate the Bible and write commentaries, but he resumed his pious and learned correspondence with devout scholars throughout the Christian world. Nor was he too busy to find time to superintend the studies of Paula in Greek and Hebrew, and read to her his most precious compositions; while she, on her part, controlled a convent, entertained travellers from all parts of the world, and diffused a boundless charity,—— for it does not seem that she had parted with the means of benefiting both the poor and the rich. Nor was this life at Bethlehem without its charms. That beautiful and fertile town,——as it then seemed to have been,——shaded with sycamores and olives, luxuri- ous with grapes and figs, abounding in wells of the purest water, enriched with the splendid church that Helena had built, and consecrated by so many associa- tions, from David to the destruction of Jerusalem, was no dull retreat and presented far more attractions than did the vale of Port Royal, where Saint Cyran and Ar- nauld discourses with the Mère Angelique on the great- ness and misery of man; or the sunny slopes of Cluny, where Peter the Venerable sheltered and consoled the persecuted Abélard. No man can be dull when his faculties are stimulated to their utmost stretch,if he does live in a cell; but many a man is bored and en nuied in a palace, when he abandons himself to luxury and frivolities. It is not to animals, but to angels, that the higher life is given. Nor during those eighteen years which Paula passed in Bethlehem, or the previous sixteen years at Rome, did ever a scandal rise or a base suspicion exist in reference to the friendship which has made her immor- tal. There was nothing in it of that Platonic senti- mentality which marked the mediæval courts of love; nor was it like the chivalrous idolatry of flesh and blood bestowed on queens of beauty at a tournament or tilt; nor was it poetic adoration kindled by the con- templation of ideal excellence, such as Dante saw in his lamented and departed Beatrice; nor was it mere intellectual admiration which bright and enthusiastic women sometime feel for those who dazzle their brains, or who enjoy a great éclat; still less was it that im- passioned ardor, that wild infatuation, that tempestuous frenzy, that dire unrest, that mad conflict between sense and reason, that sad forgetfulness sometimes of fame and duty, that reckless defiance of the future, that sel- fish, exacting, ungovernable, transient impulse which ignores God and law and punishment, treading happi- ness and heaven beneath the feet,——such as doomed the greatest genius of the Middle Ages to agonies more bitter than scorpion's stings, and shame that made the light of heaven a burden; to futile expiations and un- dying ignominies. No, it was none of these things,—— not even the consecrated endearments of a plighted troth, the sweet rest of trust and hope, in the bliss of which we defy poverty, neglect, and hardship; it was not even this, the highest bliss of earth, but a senti- ment perhaps more rare and scarcely less exalted,——that which the apostle recognized in the holy salutation, and which the Gospel chronicles as the highest grace of those who believe in Jesus, the blessed balm of Bethany, the courageous vigilance which watched beside the tomb. But the time came——as it always must——for the sundering of all earthly ties; austerities and labors accomplished too soon their work. Even saints are not exempted from the penalty of violated physical laws. Pascal died at thirty-seven. Paula lingered to her fifty-seventh year, worn out with cares and vigils. Her death was as serene as her life was lofty; repeat- ing, as she passed away, the aspirations of the prophet- king for his eternal home. Not ecstasies, but a serene tranquility, marked her closing hours. Raising her finger to her lips, she impressed upon it the sign of the cross, and yielded up her spirit without a groan. And the icy hand of death neither changed the freshness of her countenance nor robbed it of its celestial loveliness; it seemed as if she were in a trance, listening to the music of angelic hosts, and glowing with the bound- less love. The Bishop of Jerusalem and the neighbor- ing clergy stood around her bed, and Jerome closed her eyes. For three days numerous choirs of virgins alter- nated in Greek, Latin, and Syriac their mournful but triumphant chants. Six bishops bore her body to the grave, followed by the clergy of the surrounding coun- try. Jerome wrote her epitaph in Latin, but was too much unnerved to preach her funeral sermon. Inhab- itants from all parts of Palestine came to her funeral: the poor showed the garments which they had received from her charity; while the whole multitude, by their sighs and tears, evinced that they had lost a nursing mother. The Church received the sad intelligence of her death with profound grief, and has ever since cher- ished her memory, and erected shrines and monuments to her honor. In that wonderful paintings of Saint J- rome by Domenichino,——perhaps the greatest ornament of the Vatican, next to that miracle of art, the "Trans- figuation" of Raphael,——the saint is represented in re- pulsive aspect as his soul was leaving his body, minis- tered unto by the faithful Paula. But Jerome survived his friend for fifteen years, at Bethlehem, still engrossed with those astonishing labors which made him one of the greatest benefactors of the Church, yet austere and bitter, revealing in his sarcastic letters how much he needed the soothing influence of that sister of mercy whom God had removed to the choir of angels, and to whom the Middle Ages look as an intercessor, like Mary herself, with the Father of all, for the pardon of sin. But I need not linger on Paula's deeds of fame. We see in her life, pre-eminently, that noble sentiment which was the first development in woman's progress from the time that Christianity snatched her from the pollution of Paganism. She is made capable of friend- ship for man without sullying her soul, or giving occa- sion for reproach. Rare and difficult as this sentiment is, yet her example has proved both its possibility and its radiance. It is the choicest flower which a man finds in the path of his earthly pilgrimages. The coarse- minded interpreter of a woman's soul may pronounce that rash or dangerous in the intercourse of life which seeks to cheer and assist her male associates by an en- dearing sympathy; but who that has had any great literary or artistic success cannot trace it, in part, to the appreciation and encouragement of those cultivated women who were proud to be his friends? Who that has written poetry that future ages will sing; who that has sculptured a marble that seems to live; who that has declared the saving truths of an unfashionable religion,——has not been stimulated to labor and duty by women with whom he lived in esoteric intimacy, with mutual admiration and respect? Whatever the heights to which woman is destined to rise, and however exalted the spheres she may learn to fill, she must remember that it was friendship which first distinguished her from Pagan women, and which will ever constitute one of her most peerless charms Long and dreary has been her progress from the ob- scurity to which even the Middle Ages doomed her, with all the boasted admiration of chivalry, to her present free and exalted state. She is now recognized to be the equal of man in her intellectual gifts, and is sought out everywhere as teacher and as writer. She may become whatever she pleases,——actress, singer, painter, novelist, poet, queen of society, sharing with man the great prizes bestowed on genius and learning. But her nature cannot be half developed, her capacities cannot be known, even to herself, until she has learned to mingle with man in the free interchange of those sentiments which keep the soul alive, and which stimu- late the noblest powers. Then only does she realize her æsthetic mission. Then only can she rise in the dignity of a guardian angel, an educator of the heart, a dispenser of the blessings by which she would atone for the evil originally brought upon mankind. Now, to administer this antidote to evil, by which labor is made sweet, and pain assuaged and courage fortified, and truth made beautiful, and duty sacred,——this is the true mission and destiny of woman. She made a great advance from the pollutions and slaveries of the ancient world when she proved herself, like Paula, cap- able of pure and lofty friendship, without becoming entangled in the snares and labyrinths of an earthly love; but she will make a still greater advance when our cynical world shall comprehend that it is not for the gratification of passing vanity, or foolish pleasure, or matrimonial ends that she extends her hand of gen- erous courtesy to man, but that he may be aided by the strength she gives in weakness, encouraged by the smiles she bestows in sympathy, and enlightened by the wisdom she has gained buy inspiration. AUTHORITIES. Butler's Lives of the Saints; Epistles of Saint Jerome; Cave's Lives of the Fathers; Dolci's De Rebus Gestis Hieronymi; Tillemont's Ellesias- tical History; Gibbon's Decline and Fall; Neander's Church History. Se also Henry and Dupin. One must go to the Catholic historians, espe- cially the French, to know the details of the lives of those saints whom the Catholic Church has canonized. Of nothing is Protestant ecclesiastical history more barren than the heroism, sufferings, and struggles of those great characters who adorned the fourth and fifth centuries, as if the early ages of the Church have no interest except to Catholics.
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