Part 7

There is scarcely an American traveller, of any note, who has not visited Naples. There are now in that city of worse than Pagan idolatry, some of those _converts_, which Bishop Penwick says he has made from the "_most_ respectable Protestant families in Boston." The bishop was right in one thing. The families to which he alluded, are highly and deservedly respectable; their children are respectable, and these parents can have no objection that I should appeal to them for the truth of any assertion I make. I appeal to those _American converts_ now in Italy, whether it is not believed there, that Saint Januarius, on a certain day, is invoked to be "propitious to the people." During this invocation, in which the whole city, and thousands upon thousands from the neighboring country, unite, certain ceremonies are performed, bells are rung, every one goes to _confession_, masses are said, incense offered, _holy water_ is sprinkled profusely, beads are counted relics are kissed, and when all this is over, a priest comes forth from the sacristy of the church, preceded and followed by an immense train of boys, bearing lights, &c., &c. The priest holds in his hand some of the _blood_ of St. Januarius, formed into a hard _crust_. He calls upon the saint to be _propitious_, and to grant his prayer. If the saint is willing to be _propitious_, the crust of the saint's blood, which the priest holds in his hand, bubbles into a red liquid. For a true account of this, I refer the general reader to Dr. Moore's Tour. The doctor was the father of Sir John Moore, and was an eye-witness of this mummery; but I will refer those _respectable Protest-ant families_, from whom the Jesuit Bishop Fenwick says he has made so many converts, to their own children, now in Naples, and who have been seduced by these arrant and designing knaves,--Popish priests and bishops,--to abandon their homes, their country, and their civil rights, and give them in exchange for such degrading mummeries as they are now witnessing in Italy. Their children will tell them that what I state is correct. Let these parents reflect, that probably they themselves are the cause of the errors into which their children have been decoyed. It was recently observed by an eminent divine of Boston, that the great prosperity of this country may be the cause of the many evils which threaten our people. The sentiment appears strange to many, but the eloquent gentleman was right. The downfall of nations might always be traced to their superabundant wealth and prosperity. The same may be applied to individuals. Reader, did you ever see infidelity in a cottage? Never, where the Bible has found its way. Misery you will find there, but that you will find in palaces. The poor love the name and the religion of Christ. The puritan fathers of the nabobs of this land loved them, and they had reason to do so. To religion and to the Bible they are indebted for all their worldly comfort, their liberty, and their civil rights; and the parents who permit their children to be seduced from their tender care by Jesuits, notorious for centuries for nothing but fraud, deception, seduction and avarice, have a long account to settle with their Eternal Master. Let them take heed, lest their wealth be the cause of the temporal and spiritual poverty of their beloved children.

Be not startled, reader, if I inform you that a miracle, more incredible than that of the blood of Januarius, has been wrought in these United States only a few years ago, if we are to believe a Roman Catholic bishop, who was reputed to be one of the most talented men in the Romish church.

Who is it, that does not recollect the notorious Prince Hohenloe, who, a few years ago, played so many "fantastic tricks before high Heaven," and who, if we are correctly informed by his Popish biographers, wrought more miracles in one month, than the Saviour of mankind did during the whole course of his ministerial life?

It appears that the Popish priests and nuns of the United States have been for several years expecting, or, at least, pretending to expect, some miraculous evidence of divine favor in their behalf. The nuns and _sisters of charity_ in the convents of Emmetsburg and Georgetown felt jealous that their _brothers_ and _sisters_ in Europe should be empowered to work and witness miracles almost daily, and thereby enrich their convents, while they themselves had not a single miracle among them,--at least, of their own manufacture. Up to that time, as far as I know, no miracle was performed or witnessed by Popish nuns and lay sisters in the United States. This was deemed a serious calamity. It was even a loss of revenue, and this the priests and nuns knew full well. Something must be done; revenue must be had from some source; and the unprincipled priests and bishops of this country, understanding well the weaknesses and imperfections of humanity, knowing that human nature is the same in all nations and among all people, and seeing the vast benefits, which, in a pecuniary point of view, their church derived from the belief of their people in miracles, resolved to try an experiment, upon a small scale, upon _brother Jonathan_. Accordingly, about the year 1828, when _St. Hohenloe_ was in all his glory, his _divine_ power shining in full blaze, the bishops and priests of the Roman Catholic church resolved upon having a miracle of their own, instanter. The following was their modus operandi:

A _lay sister_ in the nunnery of Emmetsburg or Georgetown, I forget which, was taken ill. She bore her indisposition, which was attended with _excruciating pains?--"risum tenia tis"--with angelic resignation_. The best medical aid was always at hand, but she grew worse and worse every day, until her case became hopeless. Her recovery was pronounced impossible. Medical aid could do no more; her whole time was devoted to prayer; but,--_miribile dictu_,--one night, as she lay in momentary expectation of death, the spirit of Prince Hohenloe paid her a visit, bid her be of good cheer, and directed her to have _mass_ said for her in her room on a certain day, and at a certain hour,--naming both,--and that, when the priest raised up the wafer at mass, she should look at it, and would see the infant Saviour in his hands, body and blood, soul and divinity, and in shape and form like other infants. She communicated this visit from the saint to her _confessor_. He, as is usual in these cases, did not believe it at first; but the saint visited him, too, and reprimanded him for his incredulity. Bishop England, of Charleston, was immediately sent for. The circumstance of the saint's visit was related to him; he pretended to disbelieve it also for a while, but was finally convinced of its truth, and consented to say mass on the appointed day and hour in the lay sister's sick room, and, almost incredible to relate, this Bishop England, a man of talent, and a man of sense, though the slave of the Pope of Rome, touches in a letter to the public, through the _Catholic Miscellany,_ which he himself then edited, that the whole of this lay sister's falderal was true,--that the saint visited her,--that he said mass according to his instructions, and that she saw in his hands, not a little wafer, made of flour and water, but a full grown infant, in all the natural proportions of humanity.

I regret extremely that I have not the Catholic Miscellany, containing an account of this transaction by Bishop England himself, as it is hardly to be expected that Americans can otherwise believe it; but undoubtedly Bishop Hughs, of New York, and Bishop Fenwick, of Boston, must have files of the Miscellany, containing an account of this miraculous event.

Is this not enough of itself to deter any man, endowed with the faculty of reason, from holding any communion whatever with Roman Catholic bishops and priests? A degradation of the understanding like this, and among a people like ours, cannot exist, unaccompanied with depravity of heart. The intellect cannot be darkened, when the heart is pure and bright, and such a heart cannot be possessed by a Papist who remains so after a thorough knowledge of Popish iniquities, which all priests and bishops are supposed to have. I declare it as my solemn conviction, and from my perfect knowledge of Popery, that a thoroughly educated Popish priest, I mean thoroughly educated in Popery, can no longer retain the image of the Deity, which the God of nature has stamped upon every created mind, undefiled or undebased, while he has any connection with the church of Rome. That church is and ever has been the curse of the earth, the scourge of all good governments, and the greatest obstacle to the Divine Will. Under this conviction, I have addressed myself to the public in this book. Under this conviction I have taken the liberty of appealing to Protestant families, and cautioning them against the intrigues of priests. It was this conviction that induced me to disregard that ancient aphorism which says, "If the people will be deceived, let them be deceived." I felt that the people had no chance * to escape deception, unless the truth were known and fairly explained to them. When dust is thrown into the eyes of the people, or even into those of private families, it is the duty of every man, and mine as well as that of others, to remove and clear it away; otherwise, I should be undeserving of the blessings and privileges secured to me by the laws of this country. Could I rest supinely and see a body of men prevail by artifice, who hate the very name of liberty, without resisting them as far as in me lay, I should be acting criminally. It is bad enough to tolerate amongst us miracle-mongers and convicted idolaters; but to allow them to continue in the practice and propagation of such deeds, without warning our people and cautioning them against being drawn into the whirlpool of Popish corruption, which now foams and boils and bubbles over our land, would show in me an ingratitude towards this country, to which I owe everything I am, and which gives me as good a right as others to expect much more.

It is strange that we should have amongst us a society called Puseyites, who believe as firmly as Papists do in the long-exploded doctrine of miracles,--a doctrine upon which age after age has pronounced an unqualified verdict of censure and reprobation. Yet so it is. Allow me to give you an example of the long list of miracles in which they believe.

"Sixty confessors were made prisoners by Humeric, the tyrant king of the African Vandals, in the 4th century. He ordered their tongues to be cut out, even to the roots, inclusively; but notwithstanding this loss of their tongues, roots and all, they lived many years after, and spoke more plainly than ever."

The reverend Mr. Ward, a distinguished friend of Puseyism, now living in England, and looked upon by the Puseyites in the United States as one of the most able advocates of their wild doctrine, assures us with great gravity, and on the authority of the holy fathers of the middle ages, that the above fact is true, and as much entitled to credit as anything related in the holy Scriptures. He even tells us that "to attribute anything like idolatry, or anything approaching it, to such men as related the above and similar facts, was a _fearful approximation to blasphemy against the Holy Ghost_."

The Mr. Ward to whom I allude is well known to many literary men in this country, as the author of a work recently published, and called _Wards Ideal of a Christian Church_, The name of the work is assuredly an appropriate one. His church must be ideal indeed. It is something invisible, intangible, hitherto unknown and never heard of before. either in scriptural or church history; and where he found the materials, out of which he formed this ideal of a Christian church, must be known only to himself. But Mr. Ward is a philosopher,--so say the Puseyites,--and philosophers now-a-days have some strange dreams. They had such in all times and in all ages of the Christian, as well as the heathen world. "Oh! there is a husk and shell, Yorick, which grows up with learning, which their un-skilfulness knows not how to fling away. Sciences may be learned by rote, said my father to Yorick. Yorick thought my father inspired."

Whether Puseyites think Mr. Ward inspired or not, I am at a loss to know; nor am I a judge; but that he is a philosopher, is beyond doubt. Nor do I feel the least hesitancy in saying that he will have, one day or another, his name inscribed in the same niche, and his ashes rest in the same urn, with such distinguished men as Joe Smith, Hiram Smith and O. Brownson, all conspicuously eminent philosophers. The fact of my not understanding one word these eminent philosophers have uttered, is no argument against their ideal churches, or their ideal theories.

"I will enter into obligations this moment, said my father, to lay out all my Aunt Dinah's legacy in charitable uses, if the corporal has any one determinate idea, annexed to any one word he has repeated." Thus spoke the learned author of the Tristrapedia to Trim; but it by no means followed, that Trim was not a philosopher, no more than it does that Mr. Ward and other Puseyite doctors are not philosophers, though not one of them has any one determinate idea annexed to any one word they have said or written.

Thrice honored, then, be Monks, Mormonites, Millerites and Brownsonites. All will have their day, and so will common sense.

I am apprehensive that some will accuse me of levity in my manner of alluding to Puseyism. Others will say that I should have mentioned no names, or, if I did, I should have treated them with respect and kindness. Far be it from me to treat a grave subject lightly; but when I see the whole Christian world represented as profligate and the Popish world alone represented as sinless and pure, by the authors of Puseyism, I can scarcely treat such a false representation and perversion of truth otherwise than with contempt and irony; and when I bring before the public the names of some of the individuals who have merited this, by exhibiting themselves as the authors and abettors of these gross outrages upon all that is sacred among men and among nations, I only do them justice. Are acts alone, and not their consequences, to be noticed? Are we to take cognizance of effects, and pass by in silence their causes? Are we to wage a seven years' war against Ward's _Ideal of a Christian Church_, and against other ideals of moonstricken dreamers, and say not a word of the dreamers themselves, or the consequences that follow from them? Suppose we had here in Boston, or New York, the hydrophobia; suppose a citizen were in pursuit of the mad dog which introduced it; would any of my readers say to the citizen, never mind the dog, let him go but take care of the hydrophobia? Assuredly not the name, the color, the appearance of the dog, and the symptoms of his madness, should be proclaimed to the public, lest he might scatter the hydrophobia still further amongst them. Suppose an incendiary was seen on the streets of one of our large and populous cities, say, for instance, Boston or New York, and that our police officers were in pursuit of him; let us fancy a crowd of sympathizers interfering and saying to the officers, let that man alone; pursue him no farther; do not even mention that he is an incendiary; it may be the cause of sending him to gaol, or, perhaps, to the state prison for life; say nothing to any one against him,--but take care of fires. See well to it that the city is not burned. What, under these circumstances would be thought of the sympathizers? Who would feel for them if the city was reduced to ashes? Who would feel for them if their homes were rendered desolate, and their wives and children made houseless. I would not check the generous or natural flow of human sympathy, but I do not know that I should do wrong in saying, that such men deserved no commiseration.

Under these circumstances, why should I be accused of treating a grave subject lightly or ironically? Never did the witty Lord Shaftsbury utter a plainer truth than when he said, that ridicule is one of those principal lights or natural mediums by which things are to be viewed, in order to a thorough recognition.

I am aware that there are many objections to the use of ridicule and irony, in speaking on grave subjects; but, as Fielding very properly observes, there can be no objection to making use of its assistance in expelling and banishing all falsehood and imposture when once fairly detected; and as this method is for my present purpose unexceptionable, I think it will also prove efficacious.

Having perused the dreams, or, if the reader prefers it, opinions of the holy fathers, and taken a glance at those of a new sect amongst us called Puseyites,--which is but another name for Popery,--I could see no reason why I should believe them of higher authority than the Scriptures, or why I should not prefer the latter for my rule of faith. The holy fathers of the church of Rome, and her unbaptized children, Puseyites, seem to me of equal authority. I say unbaptized, because I know not that their reputed parents, the Pope and his spouse, the church of Rome, ever thought of such a thing as Puseyite. I am rather inclined to think that the venerable couple are, up to this moment, unconscious of having any paternity whatever in Puseyism. At any rate, their holy fathers, such as Mr. Ward, Newman and others, appear to me as _demented and clean daft_ as any that ever existed in the middle ages. The "Knight of Cervantes," as a late number of the London Quarterly expresses it, "never abandoned himself to delirious musings, on the faded glories of chivalry, more madly than these sentimentalists to visions of Popish powers, and the glories of the saints."

The Bible was with them a matter of minor consideration. I knew by experience that it was so; and I know that it is so at the present day, with every priest and bishop of the Romish church. I was aware then, as I am now, that it was perfectly useless to attempt reasoning with them, and I had, of course, no alternative left but to cast from me their writings and doctrines, as the veriest trash that ever was written, and seek from the Bible, the fountain of truth, instructions for my future life. I looked upon the majority of the holy fathers either as notorious blockheads or dishonest knaves. There is no alternative. There is not even a medium.

But to return to the subject, from which I have so widely, though unconsciously deviated.

Soon after my arrival in Philadelphia, I became acquainted with a Protestant family. I had the pleasure of dining occasionally with them, and could not help noticing a seemingly delicate young man who waited at the table. There was something in the countenance and whole appearance of this individual which struck me as singular. I could see no indication of positive wickedness or signal depravity in the external configuration of the young man's head. The expression of the eye indicated meekness, humility, and habitual obedience, rather than anything else; but I could see, nevertheless, in the closely-compressed lips and furtive glance, which I could only occasionally catch,--and even then by a sort of stealth,--something that puzzled me. I know not why, but I could not like him. There was no cause, as far as I could see, why I should dislike the young man. Constitutionally, I was myself rather fearless than otherwise. I cannot recollect that, with equal means of defence, I ever before feared any one, I do not desire to be considered a braggadocio, nor do I make this assertion with any such view. I have not in my composition,--if I know myself,--a single particle of bravery, neither do I covet its possession. I have often seen men of bravery tremble at the roaring of a lion, caged up and strongly chained in a menagerie. I have often seen and heard a brave man whistle as he passed through a church-yard; a brave man will shudder and quail at the very sight of his own shadow. A bully, a cut throat, a highway robber, a Jesuit, or a traitor, may be brave; conspirators against the peace and prosperity of their country may be, and have been, brave men. I desire not to belong to this class; but I desire sincerely to merit the high distinction of being considered a man of courage. To this class all sincere Christians belong. To this class all who were distinguished for virtue and morality, even among the heathens, belonged. Witness the conduct of Cicero. He sought to shelter himself against the violent assaults and personal attacks of the conspirator Catiline; he wished no unnecessary, uncalled-for collision with this blood-thirsty villain, when no good could follow, and his duty did not require it. But when the good of his country demanded it, and the voice of conscience called upon him, Cicero came forth, alone, and met the conspirator, Catiline, in the presence of the whole senate of Rome, and charged him, face to face, with his crimes, his treason, and his conspiracy. Cicero was not a brave man, according to the acceptation of the word bravery among the assassins and stiletto-bearers of his day, nor would he be considered so in the acceptation of the word among the brawling _repealers_ O'Connellites, traitors and conspirators of the present day; but he was a man of courage.

There is a wide difference between a brave man, and a man of courage. A brave man may stand at the mouth of the cannon, while under the influence of some animal emotion, and quail even at an imaginary danger; but a courageous man smiles at all such things, and calmly prepares, and is always ready to meet those that are real. A man may be brave, and fear the whistling of the wind; but a courageous man fears nothing, not even the whistling of the cannon's ball.

Luther was not a brave man, in the modern acceptation of that term. He rushed not among his foes; they hunted him like a wild beast, but they turned him not from his path. He met them face to face. He unfurled the standard of Christianity; he took his stand, and met them, and fought them under that glorious banner. He was not brave, but he was a man of courage.

These are the men I should like to imitate, and their courage,--"_Sic magna com parvis componere solebam_"--is that which Popish priests and Jesuits, traitors to their God and this country of my adoption, will find I possess, as far as my limited powers of mind or body will permit.

Cicero looked Catiline in the face, and told him he was a conspirator and a traitor. Luther looked the miracle and indulgence mongers of Germany in the face, and told them they were base idolaters; and I tell the minions of the Pope in the United States, that they are worthless idolaters, traitors and conspirators against the peace of this country, and that their sovereign lord, the Pope of Rome, should be made to feel that his bulls and insolent interference in the affairs of the United States, shall soon meet that chastisement which is due to treason and its abettors.