Chapter 7
With regard to our pious sodalities. Did the question ever present itself--How much of the average sodalist's piety is resting on sentiment and tradition, and how little of it on intellectual conviction? Transplant him from the hotbed to the ice-chills of infidelity in America or Australia, where the very air is electric with doubt and denial, and when the storm beats upon him, is his head armed to defend his Faith?
Where could he get the necessary knowledge? Not from the book in his hand, for it is "Marie Corelli" or "Hall Caine" you find him best acquainted with. Not from the Catholic newspaper, for the question is--Do we possess one? It is a strange fact that while Irish Catholics abroad have founded, and support, splendid Catholic journals in every land where they have found a home, the mother Church from which they sprang is practically defenceless. He gets poor assistance from the pulpit; for while homilies and exhortations are admirable in their way, they fall far short of covering the needs of this questioning age. Our dogmatic treatises are permitted to lie entombed in dust on our top shelves, while clear and homely exposition of Catholic truth would be drunk in like honey by the people.
You point to our beautiful churches, beautiful they are indeed. But to what purpose do we raise temples of stone if we permit the living temple of the soul to be eaten into by the poison mildews of evil thought. The Continent is dotted over with stately but empty basilicas, silent and mournful monuments to a Faith and a love long since departed.
[Side note: Questions]
Now that we begin to realise the danger and the extent of this evil, a number of questions naturally suggest themselves.
[Side note: I]
How is it that the master carefully scrutinizes the character of a servant before admitting her into his house, lest her influence in his home might be for evil, and that same man allows the author to pass in unchallenged? The author comes, not to minister but to master; to impress his thoughts on the minds and perhaps blast the virtue of the children.
[Side note: 2]
Since every parent is bound to provide that his children's apartments are well supplied with healthy air, is not the obligation far more serious to take care that the moral atmosphere of the home does not hold the deadliest poisons in solution?
[Side note: 3]
[Side note: Questions]
Why does not the young girl, who is so fastidious about the class of people with whom she will associate, exercise even ordinary discrimination in the selection of an author? This is the companion whose influence sinks deeper and lasts longer than that of the person with whom she sips tea or takes a walk. He whispers into her soul under the shade of the midnight lamp. He embeds his principles on her brain. He lives in her dreams. He becomes her oracle to conjure by.
[Side note: 4]
Or, let us put the question this way: How many of the men and women who flit across the pages of modern fiction would a respectable Catholic admit into his home or introduce to his family? He would not give them his company, but he gives them his brains. The hem of his garment they may not touch, but the pith of his life he places at their disposal. Make no mistake about it. You cannot shake off the influence of your author. His thoughts become your thoughts. He weaves himself into the woof of your mind.
[Side note: 5]
How is it that when the proselytiser comes to your parish in human shape you are all afire, but when he comes speaking, not by one but a hundred tongues, silently but effectively sapping the Faith or virtue of your flock, no pulpit rings with denunciation? All these questions may be answered by another most pertinent to the priest.
Have the people been taught to realise the danger confronting them? Have their consciences been awakened? Have we been dumb watch-dogs while they are being devoured?
[Side note: Apologies]
The treatment of this subject would be incomplete if the stock apologies for dangerous reading were not dealt with.
When you remonstrate with a Catholic on the character of his reading, you are sure to be met with some of the following, and any one of them is supposed to be a complete justification, no matter how bad the book:--
[Side note: Style]
"_I read these books for the style_." This is sometimes heard from people whose pretentions to literary taste borders on the grotesque; but let that pass. Has a paralysis fallen on every hand that wields a Catholic pen? Does the light of Faith beaming on a human mind quench the beauties of imagination or dull the taste? Or, is a perfect style to be found only among the apostles of evil? Surely the long range of Catholic writers offers an ample variety of the most perfect exponents of literary style. Let us be honest. It is not for the style these books are read; it is because they gratify an unhealthy craving, because they are soft, sensual, suggestive, and stimulate feelings not far from the border-land of sin.
[Side note: I see no harm]
"_I see no harm in them_." Now by this answer you implicitly admit that you see no good. Have you then no remorse for frittering away such a precious gift of God as time? If the damned got five minutes of that time to repent, every chamber in hell would be empty. Yet you squander months and years without a qualm.
You see no harm in it. Look into your own life and what do you discover. The unction of prayer sucked out of your soul, your relish for the Sacraments gone, a dry rot consuming your spiritual life, a nausea for supernatural things, a taste every day becoming more clayey, and an increasing appetite for grosser excitements. Books that you would tremble to touch a year ago you now devour without a pang; or perhaps the stray shreds of infidelity are weaving themselves into your future creed. Do not mind what you see with the eye of a conscience that is already half-dead. Search deep into your own heart and life, and you will quickly discover the damage done.
[Side note: Narrow-minded]
"_We cannot be narrow-minded_." Is it then a something to be ashamed of, if in matters pertaining to our eternal interests we are cautious and conservative? Not prone to take dangerous risks? This is the disposition sometimes called narrow-mindedness. Surely it is better even to be narrow-minded than pagan-minded.
But let us clear our minds of cant and squarely face the question. Will the person who calls you narrow-minded for exercising caution in the selection of your books, exhibit his own breadth of mind by going into a chemist's shop, shutting his eyes and gulping down the contents of the first bottle that comes to his hand? Ha! You see how quickly his broad-mindedness is replaced by most careful caution. But a library is like a chemist's shop. The shelves may hold health-giving medicines or the most deadly poisons. As well call the harbour authorities narrow-minded because they close the ports against the cholera ship, as to question the just prudence of the man who shuts his door against the evil book.
[Side note: Up-to-date]
"_We must be up-to-date_." The man that takes this as the sole principle by which to guide his moral conduct, not only writes himself down "depraved," but an intellectual imbecile. What does he mean? He means that he is incapable of thinking for himself; that he has no fixed chart, but is tossed about in the eddy of fashion; that he has no principle to guide his own conduct by, but has to look to the street and follow where the crowd leads.
The most un-up-to-date people that ever lived were the early Christians. When thousands were swarming to the butcheries of the Coliseum they refused to be up-to-date and kept carefully away from the taint of blood and savagery. When the debaucheries of the festivals disgraced the city, they again refused to be "up-to-date." No doubt they were sneered at and called "old-fashioned," "priest-ridden," &c. But it was they, and not those who taunted them, who showed loftiness and nobility of mind in taking, not the craze of the hour, but the Gospel of Jesus Christ as the standard of their conduct.
[Side note: How to meet the Danger]
We have now taken the full bearings of the Danger of the Hour. The remaining question is--How to meet it? To expose the bad book is but half our task--its place must be supplied by the good one. How can this be done? The answer naturally suggests itself. Have we not the Catholic Truth Society? Yes, and it is a splendid weapon if worked as it should be; and its admirable publications pushed into every home.
There is a temptation to belittle these works because they cost only a penny. Though they are reduced to that humble price to meet the wants of the millions, we must not forget that most of them are the productions of the ablest pens, and some of them contain more thought between their modest covers than many a pretentious volume. They have the special advantage of being at a price and in a form accessible to the young. There are many thousands reading these booklets who would never venture, even if they could, to face the four hundred paged volume. But the Catholic Truth Society works do not cover all our needs. They do two things--they serve to create a thirst for more knowledge, and act as pedagogues to lead the child to the door of the parochial library. Here we strike the goal.
[Side note: The Parochial Library]
The parochial library is the crying want of the hour. The one weapon by which we must beat back an evil which threatens appalling ruin. Our service of God must vary with the need of the different ages. At one time He is best served by the pouring out of martyr blood, at another by the building of splendid churches; but to any man who watches the drift and danger of our generation, it is clear as noonday, that the most effective work a priest can offer God to-day is a well stocked library, open to every child of the parish.
It has been said that if St. Paul were on earth now, he would be found editing a Catholic newspaper.
We have seen the devil using the Press with terrible effect for the destruction of souls; let us wrench it from him and baptize it for the service of Christ.
The parochial library as an instrument of defence and propagation is no new discovery.
[Side note: Encyclopedia Britannica]
"As Christianity made its way," says the "Encyclopedia Britannica," "the institution of libraries became a part of the organisation of the Church. So intimate did the union between literature and religion become, that alongside every Church the Catholic bishops had a library erected." Now, if in times past, when not one man in twenty could read, the unerring foresight of the Church led her to adopt the parochial library as her most able auxiliary, the wisdom of that adoption applies with ten-fold force to our times.
[Side note: The Blunder of the Past]
Fifty years ago we taught the people how to read; awakened within them the native desire for knowledge, and then--stopped. When the national school was built had we established the parochial library and made it the means of continuing the child's education, we would have a different Ireland to-day.
We made the youth hungry and then stepped aside. The British publisher came and occupied the place we should have held. He has been feeding them on garbage and gutter literature since. God grant that it is not too late to undo the mischief of our neglect.
[Side note: What we spend]
It is estimated that we spend four hundred and forty-six thousand pounds every year on English papers, books and magazines. Almost half a million of money! How many of our honest rooftrees would not that sum keep standing? How many of our pure boys and girls would it not save from the "hells" of Chicago and New York.
It is bad enough to part with the bone and muscle, but a nation loses her most precious asset when she exports her intellect. While we have gone on helping the British publisher to the carriage and the suburban villa, the young Irishman, who feels the fire of genius throbbing in his blood, sees but two alternatives before him--to starve at home or sell his brains in a foreign market.
To-day the priest holds the field, but for how long? Recent convulsions should warn us; the ground may rock again; then let us arouse ourselves to the task before us.
[Side note: Awake!]
Whether the priest moves or not the library is sure to come, and what in his hands would be a centre of diffusive light to the parish, under the control of semi-educated or conscienceless men may prove a dark curse.
Let the coarse and sensuous literature of England drop from our people's hands. Let us encourage native genius to dip her pen into the old holy well of Catholic truth, and build up a literature that will be racy of the soil and redolent of its Faith. Let us feed the minds of the young on the untainted productions of our own countrymen and women. Let us brace them with robust Catholic principles that are mortised into the solid bed-rock of knowledge. Then the most powerful foe the future holds will blow the trumpet in vain.
But to the priest who slumbers, heedless of the swift march of time, and the forces of evil now possessing our land, I say-- Dream on, dear gentle soul, dream on! The day may come when you will awake with a thunder-clap, perhaps to find the Irish Church in chains.
CHAPTER EIGHTH
THE YOUNG PRIEST'S ACTIVITIES
I should like to see the priest at the head of every movement for the bettering and uplifting of the people.
[Side note: The Last Fortress]
Ireland is the last fortress of Catholic Christendom. Latin Christianity is having to struggle for existence; and for us, time will but multiply, from within and without, the forces organised by Satan to capture the last stronghold that flies the Papal banner.
[Side note: Satan's First Move]
His first effort will be in the future, as it has ever been in the past, to drive a wedge of separation between the priests and the people. That accomplished, half his battle is won. If he can get the people to despise the priest in any capacity as a social man, a politician, &c., he knows that time rubs out fine-drawn distinctions; they will cease to respect at the altar the man they are accustomed to flout on the street; and if they once come to despise the priest, they will soon despise the sacraments he administers, and challenge the Gospel which he preaches. Let us forestall him, and bind the people to our hearts with hoops of steel. For their sakes more than for ours we cannot make our hold too firm or root ourselves too deeply in their affections. For what hope could there be for souls if a chasm should yawn between the pastor and his flock, if those God has united by so many and such sacred ties should glare hatred and distrust from opposing camps?
The priest is supreme in Ireland to-day; but in the near future he may have many a rival claimant; and should the people pass under alien sway, the last fortress is gone.
Now, when we unroll the map of social Ireland, we discover a multitude of ways by which the priest can keep in touch with, direct and uplift the people, and each effort for their sakes means a fresh strengthening of the bonds that bind the hearts of priests and people.
Let us take a survey of the situation. That done, the number of ways by which the priest can become the reformer of his parish will at once disclose themselves.
[Side note: A Statement of Facts]
Have you ever faced the sad problem:--Why are our asylums enlarging while our general population is shrinking?
Three main causes are responsible.
[Side note: Food]
_The food we are eating_, especially the use of overdrawn tea. A gentleman of over twenty years' experience, as governor of a lunatic asylum, assured the writer that next to drink, overdrawn tea was the most responsible agent for insanity. That week he had received a farmer's wife and five strapping sons all stark mad from the poison stewing by so many of our hearths.
Whilst we were guided by the healthy traditions of our own race, we fed on solid food--oatmeal, specially suited to our climate, being a heat-producer, a bone-builder and a tissue-former, rich milk, butter, vegetables and home-cured bacon. What a poor substitute for these luscious foods are the weak white bread and thin cup of tea! The Scotsman has stuck to his national diet; he has done more, he has forced his porridge on the bill of fare of every first-class English hotel.
[Side note: Activity I]
Could not the curate, from the lecture platform, in the school and in private conversation, drive home to the people and open their eyes to the suicide they are committing? I know one priest who gets every farmer in his parish to sow every year a quarter acre of oats for home use. Could not others do the same?
[Side note: Drink]
_The second cause is Drink_. On this question I shall content myself with quoting a few statistics. They supply melancholy food for reflection.
In 1899, out of every three placed in the dock for drunkenness in the capital of this Catholic country one was a woman. I think you may search the world for a more shameless exhibition.
Out of every thousand of the general population in England, fifty persons are arrested for drunkenness; out of every thousand of the general population in Ireland, one hundred and forty-three. In other words, we produce almost three convicted drunkards to their one. And still we plume ourselves on our superior virtue.
Our total income from agriculture, the staple industry of the country, is forty millions. On this, mainly, the nation has to live. Yet before a penny is touched for food, clothing or education, almost fourteen out of the forty millions are handed over to the sellers of drink.
Within fifteen years we lost half a million of our people, but we consoled ourselves by opening eleven hundred and seventy-five new public-houses within the same period.
[Side note: Activity II]
To these figures I shall not add one word: it would only weaken the argument. Will any one deny that the young priest has here an ample field for his zeal and energy, and a splendid opportunity of proving himself the reformer and saviour of the people?
[Side note: Emigration]
_The third, most powerful source of lunacy, is Emigration_. It may seem a paradox to say that the lessening of our people must naturally mean the increase of insanity. When we say the country loses forty thousand of its inhabitants yearly, we make but a partial statement of the case. Whom do we lose? Not the average class--the youth, and the youth only go. Two consequences follow. A boy, when he has arrived at his eighteenth year, has cost the country two hundred pounds, and a girl one hundred and fifty. Up to that time they were consumers, they produced little. This enables us to arrive at the appalling fact that Ireland every year pours seven millions worth of human cargo into the emigrant ship.
Would that this was all, but worse remains to be said. Who stay with us? The aged, the delicate, the infirm. The kernel of the race is going, the husks are remaining with us. Intermarriage among these, intermingling of enfeebled and tainted blood is one of the main contributory causes why the walls of our asylums are enlarging.
[Side note: Remedies]
Let us see what the priest can do to fight the national curse, and stay the national haemorrhage.
[Side note: The Points to Fix on]
In dealing with the drink question his main purpose should be to purify public opinion. Till that is done, every other effort must fail. What use in our inveighing against a vice if the people insist on labelling it a virtue? Our first effort must be to get the people to view it in an honest light--to see it as we see it. Public opinion up to this could scarcely be more depraved.
[Side note: The Village Scandal]
It was not an unusual thing to see young boys feigning drunkenness and staggering through the village. Why? They were at an age when pride began to crave for notoriety and applause. They knew the public to which they appealed, and they took the shortest cut to win its approbation, and that was by pretending to be drunk.
An action like that is a terrible verdict against the national conscience. If public opinion were healthy, if it held for such mock heroes, not the incense of applause, but a lash of scorn, if boys were persuaded that so far from exhibiting in their conduct a manly trait, they were only proving themselves degraded puppies, the cure would be immediate.
[Side note: Perverted Judgments]
Listen to people talking of a man who has sent his children out on the world, and his wife to an untimely grave, and you would think it was some visitation of Providence overtook him, and that he deserved all our sympathy.
The agent that dares to threaten an eviction has to carry revolvers and walk the country under the shadow of police protection; but the father and husband who evicts his own children and flings them into the slums of foreign cities, and sends his broken-hearted wife to the grave, not only has his crime condoned but, by the same people, he is daily smothered in the rose-leaves of apology. "Poor fellow! Ah, it is a good man's fault!" Not one hard word. Yet the world outside the shores of this country are pouring scorn on the degraded name of drunken Ireland.
[Side note: The Young Men's Pride]
Why not appeal to the patriotic pride of the young men by showing the contempt and distrust that follow our race because of this vice? It would touch them to the quick.
[Side note: The Hereditary Taint]
Another point to be insisted on is:--The crime of the drunkard does not die with himself. Like lunacy or consumption it transmits a sad heritage to his offspring. Ninety out of every hundred are drunkards because they inherited tainted blood.
Parents shudder at the bare possibility of their child being born an idiot, or with some repulsive birth-mark. Yet, before the infant can lift its hand in protest, the parents poison its life at the very source and send it on the world with a moral deformity marking its nature.
[Side note: The Dawn]
These were the two sources of weakness in the past: a public opinion that fostered, instead of smiting, the curse, and an hereditary taint that grew stronger with every generation, while the will to resist became more feeble. Thank God, the dawn of a brighter day is with us: there is a healthy awakening of public opinion. The Gaelic revival has for the first time in our history linked sobriety with patriotism: the word has gone forth that reconstructed Ireland must not rest on staggering pillars. The young priest of the future has the rising tide with him, and Ireland has seen her darkest day.
No matter how we may deplore emigration, we must deal with it as a fact.
[Side note: Is the Emigrant Prepared]
[Side note: His Peril Abroad]
From what class are the emigrants drawn? From the young. It is hard to part with them: but there is one consolation. They go to build up the Church in other lands, but every precaution must be taken to strengthen them for the trials awaiting them. Now, every returned American and Australian priest will candidly tell you that the Irish emigrant is poorly equipped for his new surroundings.
Dr. Kenrick and Cardinal Gibbons go so far as to say that the neglect of the Irish priest in preparing his emigrating flock, is the main source of leakage in the American Church. They are not able to answer the most ordinary objections, and they have not moral strength to withstand the shafts of ridicule. In the fierce cross-currents of unbelief, he is poorly able to keep his foothold. Many stagger; some fall, never to rise.