world, and the saintly Pius V. succeeded in organizing a genuine crusade, in which Spain, Venice and other Italian states mustered a powerful fleet and sailed to the Levant. At Lepanto they were met by the whole armament of the Turkish Empire-not less than three hundred vessels, mostly propelled by Christian galley-slaves as oarsmen. The battle was a tremendous one, and at its close forty galleys were all that escaped of the whole Mahometan navy. Though a seasonable respite for Christendom, the battle of Lepanto had little practical results. The Turks held Cyprus, and a few years later they captured Tunis from Spain and regained almost their former naval strength. The vices and indolence of successive sultans and the corruption which spread through the Turkish governing class were the chief causes which saved Europe from further aggressions for nearly a century after Solyman's death. On land the Turks were still unconquered, and in 1596 a sultan in person inflicted a worse defeat than that of Mohacz on Austrians and Hungarians combined. The victorious sultan, however, unlike his ancestors, preferred the indulgence of the harem to the toils of war, and a peace was made with Austria in 1606 which for many years saved the still free districts of Hungary from further harrying. The accession of the fierce and energetic Amurath IV. in 1623 brought out a revival of the old Turkish war-spirit, which, fortunately for Christendom, was turned against Persia during his reign. Amurath's successor attacked Candia in 1644, with the same disregard of treaties as Selim had shown in attacking Cyprus; but the resistance was infinitely more vigorous on the part of the Venetians. Cyprus had been conquered in five months, though at the cost of fifty thousand Turkish lives. The capital of Candia held out against siege no less than twenty years, and it was not until 1669 that the Turk completed this, his last permanent conquest in Europe.

A succession of four able viziers of the Albanian family of Kiuprili commenced in the second half of the seventeenth century, and supplied, in a measure, the deficient energy of the effeminate sultans. The Kiuprilis were able administrators and financiers, and the revenues of Turkey rapidly increased under their despotic rule. The second Kiuprili renewed the war of conquest in Hungary and also invaded Poland. The Cossack brigands of the Ukraine, like the Transylvanian Protestants, revolted against the Polish republic and offered their allegiance to the sultan. The Turkish armies, commanded by Sultan Mahomet IV. in person, invaded Poland in 1672, captured the city of Kaminietz, in the heart of the country, and occupied all Podolia, one of the largest Polish provinces. After four years of war, in which the great victories of Khoczim and Lemberg were won by Sobieski, the

force of Turkey was such that Poland ceded Podolia and the Ukraine as the price of a necessary peace, and at the death of the second Kiuprili he could boast that he had again advanced the sway of the Crescent over conquered Christian populations. It should be said, to the credit of Achmet Kiuprili, that he abolished the system of recruiting the Janissaries by the enforced tribute of Christian boys, and that he was free from the intolerance and cruelty which so often mark the character of Turkish rulers, whether crowned or uncrowned.

The vizier who succeeded, Kara Mustafa, aspired to no less than the complete conquest of Catholic Austria and Germany, as well as Hungary. It was the crowning effort of Turkish invasion that started to the siege of Vienna in 1683, and the force set in motion was scarcely less than the grand army which Napoleon led against Russia. Two hundred and seventy-five thousand regular Turkish troops, thoroughly supplied with artillery, were on the rolls, besides the irregulars, the Tartar contingent of nearly a hundred thousand horsemen from South Russia, and forty thousand Protestant Transylvanians, who fought for the Crescent against the Cross. Leopold, the German emperor, could raise no force to face this invasion, and in July, 1683, Vienna was closely besieged. Its garrison was only eleven thousand, but for seven weeks they held off the Mahometan assaults, and in that time Sobieski, the King of Poland, with twenty-four thousand Polish troops, had collected the German forces, and came, by hurried marches, to the relief of Vienna.

The population of Vienna was in the last straits, and the fall of the city for some days had only been postponed by the policy of the Turkish commander, who preferred to take it by capitulation rather than by assault, when, on the 11th of September, the Jesuits, who were watching on the steeple of St. Stephen's Cathedral, noticed the white flags of the Polish lancers on the top of the Kalenberg, which rises a few miles northwest of Vienna. Sobieski lost not a moment, and the next morning, after hearing mass in the spirit of Zriny and La Vallette, he led his army straight against the Turkish forces, though five or six times greater than his own. Kara Mustafa at first refused to believe that an attack was possible, and he contented himself with sending his reserve to crush the assailants, without moving the besiegers from the trenches. Sobieski swept on, in a resistless charge, to the vizier's own quarters, and the whole army broke in panic. The bashi bazooks, as at the former siege, commenced a massacre of the numerous prisoners that had been gathered in from the surrounding country, but the Polish cavalry dashed through the camp and rode down or sabred the assassins until they joined in the common flight. One day

was enough to drive the whole Turkish force in utter rout from the walls of Vienna, leaving its artillery, its camp, its treasures and its plunder to the little Christian army, and the vizier never halted until he had crossed the Raab, many miles from the city he had so lately counted his own,

The battle at Vienna was the real turning-point in the Turkish invasion of Europe. The Christian armies followed up their victory vigorously this time, and after a hundred and fifty years the capital of Hungary was won back for Christendom. The Turkish vizier was executed by order of his imperial master a few weeks later, and fresh Turkish armies sent to hold the Turkish domain; but they could not turn the tide. Defeat after defeat fell on them, and in 1687 a crushing one was sustained at Mohacz, on the very place where the last Hungarian king had lost his life and army. It was fatal to Sultan Mahomet IV., who was deposed in 1687. Another Kiuprili was made vizier, and his energy for a time restored the fortunes of Turkey; but in 1691 he was defeated and Islain at Salankenan in Croatia.

A new sultan, Mustafa II., took the field in person with a fresh army the following year, 1695. Since the coming of the Turks to Europe a Padischah of the Ottomans had never been defeated in the open field of battle, and the Turkish troops still held belief in the invincibility of their sovereigns. Mustafa, in fact, gained one or two victories in Hungary, but the next year he was met at Zenta by Prince Eugene, and a crushing defeat, with the loss of thirty thousand men, shattered the last hopes of further Turkish conquests. The peace of Carlowitz, made the following year, marks definitely the end of the Turkish attempts to conquer Western Christendom. Hungary and Podolia were left free from Turkish dominion, and the Morea became part of the Venetian territories. Except Crete and Cyprus, every part of Catholic Europe was free from the Turkish yoke, and the Ottoman conquests were at an end.

Since the peace of Carlowitz the Turkish power has never been a serious danger to the nations outside its own territory. Its wars, though checkered with occasional success, have steadily reduced its territories until now they are not a third of those of Solyman. The jealousies of the Western powers may prolong the existence of Turkish dominion in Europe, but its own strength cannot. That such is the case is mainly due to the Catholic nations who bore the brunt of the invasion when the Tartar bands rivalled in strength the whole force of Europe and strove for its conquest so fiercely and long.

BRYAN J. CLINCH.

JACQUES ANDRÉ EMERY.

JACQUES ANDRÉ EMERY was born in the town of Gex, in

Switzerland, in the year 1732, August the 26th.

For some time previous there had existed in France a society, known as the Society of St. Sulpice, founded by the celebrated and saintly Jean Jacques Olier, and devoted to the training of candidates for the priesthood. M. Emery joined this society in 1757, passed rapidly from one official position to another, and finally, in 1777, was chosen superior of the entire community, greatly to his surprise, as he was the youngest of the assistants at the council and the lowest in rank by date of election to their number.

But he had already, as head of the seminaries in Orleans, in Lyons and in Angers, given proof of his marvellous tact, prudence, power over men, and of that marked feature in his character which was to stand him in good stead through all his life-his ability to win the esteem of those whose opinions differed from his own. His vigorous temperament was joined to a great spirit of order, a wise use of every moment of his time, and a special power of speedily comprehending the business that came before him.

When he was chosen superior of the entire Sulpitian body, his great qualities were naturally called into more forcible action than ever before. His head-quarters were at the Paris seminary, but he made a general visitation of the other seminaries entrusted to the Sulpitian management, became personally acquainted with their work, and showed himself a living example of the rule of his order.

In 1789 the storm of the Revolution broke madly over France, awakening in multitudes a horribly preternatural thirst for blood, filling others with an overwhelming and only too reasonable fear, shaking the entire structure of state government to its foundation, and threatening religion with utter and violent extinction. M. Emery was singularly prepared by his character and training, as well as by the previous events of his life, to meet with steady calm whatever might occur of good or ill. Although, in the face of that awful epoch whose memory time does not efface, he looked with consternation, "like all wise men," as M. Gosselin writes, on the storm as it approached, like them he perceived that those who were not obliged to take part in public affairs must not yield to despair or inaction, but must endeavor to prevent as much evil as possible, and to take the best possible care of the interests en

trusted to their keeping. Such was the line of conduct that he traced out for himself at the beginning of the Revolution, and from which he did not swerve in all those varying and difficult positions in which he was actually to be placed.

The seminary for a while remained unmolested; but, not deceived by the quiet in his own domain, the prudent superior kept himself carefully informed of the course of events, and had the foresight to call a general assembly of the Sulpitians during this very time of momentous excitement in the feverish world without. It was necessary to consider the new circumstances in which their society might soon be placed, on account of the political state of France, the outcome of which no man could tell; and it was then that the decision was made to found a seminary in the United States, not only as a training-school for American priests, but to provide for the Sulpitians a new home and a new field for labor, where they could carry out their vocation, undisturbed and in true liberty, in the self-denying service of souls.

But the arbitrary masters of France speedily discovered that certain rooms in the seminary would be extremely useful for the sittings of the Section of the Luxembourg, and they were not backward in making their wishes known. This arrangement, disadvantageous as it was for the seminarians, it was impossible to prevent; so their superior, with admirable tact, made a virtue of necessity, and in a most practical manner proceeded to make friends of the mammon of unrighteousness, who were to plead strongly in his favor in future desperate days. He took care to have ready for these unseasonable visitors all the writing materials they could need; he had a fire lighted in the hall of the sittings and refreshments prepared near by. Then he took advantage of the good feeling thus caused to beg his uninvited guests to be as orderly as possible, and the singular spectacle was presented of a band of ecclesiastical students and their professors quietly pursuing their religious exercises and studies in the same building where the assemblies of the Revolution in that section of Paris were held.

But the quiet could not be expected to continue. The torrent of red blood surging onward through the doomed city was soon to touch their door. On the 2d of September, 1792, came the massacre known as des Carmes, when one hundred and seventy ecclesiastics, eight of them Sulpitians, were brutally slain. Two carts filled with bleeding bodies awaiting burial remained for some time in the seminary court. M. Emery perceived that the moment for dispersion had arrived, and he sent away, to seek less dangerous abodes, the students, whom he called his children, and who had so long received what has been touchingly termed his