6

A DIVORCE.PARISH PRIEST.-INCONSISTENCIES.

to attend a sick call, and left me alone in despair.* I sauntered a few paces down the avenue, and gave vent to my feelings in the following soliloquy: Alas! what now shall I do? I have hitherto experienced from the priest only kindness and parental tenderness, but I am now cast off without mercy from the tribunal of the Holy Ghost. There is no space for repentance. All refuge is closed against me, and even hope is extinguished. I am an outcast, an alien, a wretch devoted to destruction by the plenipotentiary of God."

Pride urged me to revolt against an authority so unreasonable, so capricious, and so cruel. But conscience whispered, "Can you fight against God?" I remembered the dreadful curses uttered some time before against a man and woman that had got married against the laws of the Church. They were compelled to do public penance, and to have the marriage dissolved. I was present when this was done. After mass, the guilty pair stood forth in the midst of the congregation. The priest, commending them for submitting to the just authority of the Church, pronounced the marriage null and void, ordered them to turn their backs to one another, and to march out through opposite doors. They were then legally united, having paid the accustomed fees. The horrors of an excommunication were enough to alarm a person of stronger nerves than mine. I resolved, therefore, to make another effort for the salvation of my soul.

I went back, accordingly, to the parish priest, and frankly told him all that had happened. Father S- -, seeing the tears in my eyes, smiled at my simplicity. He was a man of portly figure, with a rubicund countenance, which indicated that, notwithstanding the want of his breakfast occasionally till a late hour in the day, he was not inattentive to the suggestions of his stomach. He was reclining on the sofa, being confined in consequence of a fall from his horse.

"Do not mind it, my child," said he, in a soothing tone; "kneel down and I will hear you myself."

After a hasty confession, he gave me absolution at once, imposing merely a nominal penance. Oh, what a burden was then removed from my heart! I seemed suddenly to emerge from a gloomy dungeon, and expatiate once more in

"The gay precincts of the cheerful day."

Alas! my dear friend, I then moved "in a vain shadow, and disquieted myself in vain."

The events of the day, however, made too deep an impression on my mind to be soon obliterated. I had seen painted on the confessional in

the chapel

"Whose sins ye remit they are remitted them, and whose sins ye retain they are retained." I believed, therefore, that what the priest did on earth was ratified in Heaven. But here was one 66 representative of the Holy Ghost" binding my sins on my soul, and absolutely refusing to remit them; and another, in the same house, cheerfully pronouncing the words of absolution by the same infallible authority! Both could not be right. But which was in the wrong? Was I still a guilty reprobate, or a pardoned penitent? This

*This gentleman was afterwards "silenced" for having neglected his vow of chastity.

CONVERTED PRIEST. -BIGOTRY.

7

question, so inexpressibly momentous, I felt myself incompetent to answer. Besides, other instances of discrepance in the decisions of different priests now recurred to my recollection. Some imposed penance much heavier than others for the same sin, committed in similar circumstances. And, in my own case, one priest told me that a certain word which I sometimes employed was an oath, and a mortal sin; while his coadjutor bid me not confess it, as it was merely an idle word, and perfectly harmless. It was not, then, the same voice that issued from each of these tribunals. But could these discordant utterances proceed from the Oracle of Truth—from the SPIRIT of TRUTH himself? The question was very perplexing.

If

Additional interest was given to these meditations by the news that the Rev. Mr. Cousins, a priest in the county Wexford, had gone over to the Church of England. He was then engaged in replying to the sermons of Father Hayes, and I ventured to glance over some of his pamphlets as they lay in the bookseller's shop. I reflected that a "right intention," in the officiating priest, was essential to the validity of a sacrament. so, who can say that his sins are pardoned, for how can we answer for other men's intentions? Mr. Cousins might have been many months, or even years, a heretic before he avowed himself. What, then, became of the souls who were all that time resting for salvation on his opus operatum —his consecrations, absolutions, baptisms, and extreme unctions? culties were thus thickening, and becoming daily more formidable. however, my faith remained inviolate.

Diffi

Still,

At

He resided in a

These struggles between reason and credulity went on in secret. length, however, I ventured to hint the state of my mind to a friend with whom I had but recently formed an acquaintance. district exclusively Roman Catholic, and which seemed also a favourite haunt of superstition, equally dear to that queen of the spectral world as Cyprus to Venus, or Athens to Minerva. There, ghosts, charms, pilgrimages, and miracles, were the order of the day. But, if superstition was the goddess that reigned over the trembling inhabitants during the night, animating every scene with the shadowy creations of her power, the kindred demon, Bigotry, was no less despotic and restless during the day. As the most abject slave becomes, where he has the power, the most ruthless tyrant, so the timorous hares of superstition are suddenly transformed into the blood-hounds of bigotry, ever ready to track the reputed heretic to death, and ever insatiable amid the havoc of persecution. As might be expected, therefore, Protestants were regarded in this neighbourhood with peculiar aversion. As an instance of this, I may mention that, at a time when the river that flowed through the rich valley was flooded, I carried over a stranger on a horse which I happened to be riding by at the time. But no sooner had he reached the opposite bank than a person came running up in breathless haste, shouting that the stranger was a Protestant, and swearing that he would sooner see him floating a corpse down the river than give him the least assistance! Such sentiments, I am happy to say, are for the most part peculiar to the "dark places" of our land; and even in the worst of these places are to be found individuals greatly superior to the multitude around themmen enlightened by extensive reading, and willing to concede to others the liberty of conscience which they claim for themselves.

8

MOUNTAIN SCENE. THE RUSHY-MAN.

The

Early on a Sunday morning, my young friend proposed a visit to a neighbouring chapel, about five miles distant, to hear the priest, who was regarded as a powerful preacher. The morning was fine, and we travelled over hills, from which we had a commanding view of the surrounding country. The rich vales below were covered with cattle, and occasionally a flock of sheep was seen reposing on the luxuriant grass. was beginning to ascend from the low houses which seemed to grow up out The smoke of the large ditches, and were for the most part unsheltered by trees. The inmates were opening the doors as we passed, aroused by the grunting of huge fat pigs, that in most cases enjoyed their otium cum dignitate in a comfortable corner of the kitchen; so that the sounds and other influences that proceeded from them were not by distance made more sweet." Painfully ascending an eminence on which the sun was shining in his strength, I called at a cabin door, and asked for a drink of water. good housewife had no water, but she offered to run up the hill and milk the goat! This hospitality, so characteristically Irish in its simplicity and generosity, was of course declined. numerous droves feeding on the heath. Of these goats we encountered their mossy nests, fluttered up from their coverts under our feet; and A number of grouse, reposing on various hares, alarmed at our approach, scampered away among the grey rocks, to find another resting-place, where they might digest the night's feeding on the neighbouring fields of corn. terrupted by a deep ravine, where the turbid waters of the winter torrent, Our way was sometimes inimpetuous and foaming, like a thwarted tyrant, burst a passage to the plain, among huge rocks that sometimes hung threateningly over the channel beneath. In some places, the smoke of the private still was visible, as it gracefully curled over a projecting bank by the side of a rippling stream. As you approached one of these, you might observe a scout advancing to reconnoitre-a surly-looking personage, with a large frieze coat, a slouched hat, and an eight-days' beard pendent from his chin. Woe to the stranger who would be found intruding on such a scene without a passport!

There was one individual who reigned with absolute sway over the peasantry of these secluded glens and valleys. man, from the fact of his sleeping on bare rushes, and wearing them under He was called the Rushyhis clothes next his skin. wrapt up in impenetrable mystery. No one knew his name, and his history was wonderful the stories, that were propagated concerning him. Various were the conjectures, and gained most credit was, that he had been a priest who distinguished himThat which self in the Wexford Rebellion; and being, from the sanctity of his character, impervious to the bullets of the heretics, had found it necessary ever since to conceal himself. perty, outlawed by Government, who sought in this disguise to revisit the Others thought him a man of rank and progreen valleys of his fatherland. in learning; and it was said, I think truly, that, in addition to the learned He was believed to surpass the priests languages, he could speak the French and Italian. idolised him. He was a welcome guest at the tables of the wealthiest The people almost farmers, and he was not too proud to partake of the humble fare of the poorest cottager. He sometimes employed himself in teaching the children, as he went on his visits from house to house. He seemed to be well

THE RUSHY-MAN.-COUNTRY CHAPEL.

9

acquainted with all parts of the country.

Sometimes he would suddenly, disappear; but where he went, or how he travelled, no one could tell. Again, he would present himself at the breakfast table some morning, as if he dropped from the clouds. All were musing as to who or what he could be, but no man dared to question him on the subject. About himself he maintained the most profound silence, and he sternly rebuked all prying curiosity.

I had the pleasure of conversing with him one Sunday morning in the chapel-yard, and again at the Pattern of T-n, where he chatted with me in the most agreeable and friendly manner. In his demeanour he possessed

"All the ease

That speaks security to please."

Equally removed from constraint and negligence, his manners were as graceful as if he had moved all his life among the first ranks of scociety. His pronunciation was classically correct, and there was an air of dignity and independence about him that strangely contrasted with his apparently humble situation. He was a small man, about fifty years of age, with a pale, expressive countenance, and eyes singularly lively and penetrating. His dress was peculiar, but he kept his person perfectly neat and clean. The magistrates summoned him on one occasion when the country was in a disturbed state, and insisted that, as a stranger and a suspected character, he should disclose his name. But he treated them haughtily, and defied their power. They were unable to remove the veil of mystery, and were ultimately obliged to dismiss him. And I am sorry that I cannot gratify your curiosity, for I am still totally in the dark as to his history. But, as I suppose you passing with me through the district, which was the favourite retreat of so singular a character, I thought the account which I have given would be interesting.

It is said that a gentleman of large property, and ancient family, in Wwas detained in France for many years during the war, where he was compelled to labour for his bread as a blacksmith.

"He comes at last in sudden loneliness,
He lives, nor yet is past his manhood's prime,
Though sear'd by toil, and something touch'd by time."

But

He suffered little change when he became the lord of Abbey. The habits which had been formed remained. His simple manners, his parsimonious disposition, and negligent dress, but ill accorded with his new situation; and he continued to pursue, in his laboratory, as a recreation, those mechanical employments at which he once toiled in the forge for a livelihood. But the greatest of men are subject to the vicissitudes of life; and even royalty itself has, more than once during the present age, been compelled to travel as a mendicant, and seek an asylum in a strange land. Some dark dispensation of a similar nature may have compelled the courtly Rushy-man to sojourn among the mountain peasants of Ireland.

But I am afraid your attention has been too long diverted from the object of our trip over the hills, which was, you will remember, to hear a popular preacher in the chapel of C- This was a large building, occupying a picturesque situation on an eminence crowned by some young and flourishing trees. The chapel-yard itself was adorned with evergreens,

C

10

COUNTRY CHAPEL.EXCOMMUNICATION.-REFLECTIONS.

and kept in very neat order. As usual, the house was totally destitute of seats. We endeavoured to get near the altar; but the pressure of the dense mass of people behind rendered the position very uncomfortable. The priest was rather a young man, tall and athletic, possessing a powerful voice, and a free and energetic delivery. After the distribution of the consecrated wafer, he commenced his address to the people. It was not the exposition of a text, nor a comment on the Gospel of the day, but a fierce harangue on the conduct of one of his parishioners.

"I was," said he, "at the Assizes the other day. I sat near the Judge; and there I saw one of my parishioners deliberately perjure himself, to save the horse-stealers he had harboured in his house. But I will empty that abominable den of thieves. Could I avoid blushing, my friends, when the Judge looked at me, and shook his head-as much as to say, 'Is this the sort of people you have in your parish?' But that old perjurer (I see him there below at the door)-that old perjurer shall feel the consequences of You may rest assured of that."

his crime.

At this moment, an old man, with a deep sepulchral voice, was heard uttering, in Irish, an indignant contradiction of the statement of the priest, at the same time advancing from the front door towards the altar.

"Put him out!" exclaimed his reverence, in a voice of thunder, that seemed to strike terror into every heart. The people, however, did not obey, but mechanically opened a passage for the hoary sinner, who boldly advanced, and confronted his accuser at the steps of the altar.

There

"Put him out! I say," reiterated Father M- with increased vehemence, clenching his hand, and stamping furiously on the boards. Still no one interfered; and the accused, an old man of very repulsive physiognomy, continued to growl out his denial of the charge. The priest eyed him with an undefinable expression of rage in his countenance. was profound silence for a moment: it was a moment of terrible suspense, like that which precedes the spring of the tiger. He grew suddenly pale, and his whole frame was convulsively agitated. But the internal struggle was soon over. He hastily pulled the purple vestment over his head, and flung it on the altar, and, as he rushed down the steps, the dense mass of people gave way on every side, like a receding wave, and the hoary perjurerstood alone in the midst." Alas! how unlike the meek and lowly Jesus was his reverend accuser! This professed preacher of mercy and messenger of peace scized him by the neck, thrust him violently forward, and then gave him one tremendous push, which sent him sprawling at several yards' distance from the door, which he slapped with such force that the walls trembled to their foundation; and, as the noise thus created died away amid the awful stillness, it fell on my ear like the knell of damnation; and indeed it seemed to "thrill the deepest notes of woe" in every breast in that vast assembly.

Meantime, Father Mascended the altar, resumed the sacred garment, and proceeded to utter the terrible curses of excommunication, which he prefaced by stating that he was not angry, and that his mind was perfectly composed.

"Think you," said I to my friend, as we journeyed home—“think you that what the priest has bound to-day is bound in heaven?"

"Certainly," was the reply.