SERMONS IN IRISH GAELIC. BY THE MOST KEY. JAMES o’gALLAGHER. Armagh, \2thJulyi 1877. Yeey Rey. and dead Canon Boueee, Since I saw you in Dublin, I haYe been Yery little at home, and were it not that this day is the notorious twelfth, when there is less or more danger for Ditramontanes to traYel, it is more than probable I would be on duty in some part of the North. I am glad, then, to haYe a moment’s leisure to drop you a line, and to send what I promised. You will find enclosed a bank bill for £180, the balance of my contribution towards the expenses of your splendid publication, “ Dr. O’ Gallagher’s Sermons.” No tongue can tell what a blessing you haYe secured for the children of St. Patrick, by your energy and zeal in bringing out the Sermons in such beautiful style. I am glad to know it is in contemplation to appoint agents for the sale of the work. As I will be on the Yisitation of the diocese for the next two months, I must order a number of copies, to haYe them distributed in places where Irish is still spoken and understood. I need not say how sincerely I congratulate you on your noble performance ; nor need I add how cordially I pray that you may be able, for many years to come, to enrich the dear old tongue with many more useful works that will remain lasting monuments to your memory. With sincere respect, and wishing you CYery happiness, I remain, Yery ReY. Sir, Your faithful serYant, Daniel M‘Gettigan. To Very Rev. TJ. J. Canon Bourke, Tuam. EIGHT HOH. WILLIAH EWAET GLADSTONE, ON THE ARYAN ORIGIN OF THE GAELIC RACE ANH LANGHAGE. Hawarden, November 16iA, 1877. Very Eev. and dear Sir, You have done me an act of great courtesy in presenting to me a work of your own in connection with my recent visit to Ireland, and you have also placed in my hands a volume which I shall read with the greatest interest, as the only branch of study which I have been able at all extensively to pursue in recent years : — that which belongs to the works of Homer — is closely associated with works on the descent of the European nations, and with primitive history in general. I hope very shortly to profit by your learned labours, and in the meantime I offer my renewed and respectful thanks, and remain. Eev. and dear Sir, Your very faithful and obedient, W. E. Gladstone. To Bev. U. J. Canon Bourlce, If.B.LA.y President, St. JarlaWs College, Tuam. P.S. — -^l^iigl^n^ing at the book this afternoon, a few hours after its arrival^ ^^(^s glad to see your attention has been drawn to the relati'wTbi^fween the Hebrew and the earliest Greek reli- gious .traditions. To me it has been a great satisfaction to find in this subject important material for the confirmation of faith. W. E. G. SERMONS IN miSH-GAELIC BY THE MOST EEV. JAMES O’GALLAGHEE, BISHOP OF RAPHOE, WITH LITERAL IDIOMATIC ENGLISH TRANSLATION ON OPPOSITE PAGES, AND IRISH-GAELIC VOCABULARY; ALSO A MEMOIR OF THE BISHOP AND HIS TIMES, BY THE RET. CANON FLICK J. BOURKE, P.P., M.R.I.A. CLAREMORRIS. Sbirb (íFbiíío DUBLIN M. H. GILL & SON, 50 UPPEE 1881. BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRaRJT CHESTNUT HILL, MASS. |mgírímaí«r: JOANiNES, Aechiepiscoptjs Tuamensis. 22 Maii, 1877. aíj TO HIS GEACE, THE MOST REV. DÁNIEL MAC GETTIGAN, LORD PRIMATE OF ALL IRELAND,— SUCCESSOR IN THE SEE OP ARMAGH TO OUR NATIONAL APOSTLE, ST. PATRICK ; TRANSLATED FROM RAPHOE, WHICH DR. o’gALLAGHER ONCE GOVERNED,— ■WHOSE GLORY IT IS TO HAVE COMPLETED AND DEDICATED, IN THE SECOND SPRING OP THE CATHOLIC FAITH IN IRELAND, THE NEW CATHEDRAL AT ARMAGH, THIS VOLUME, PREPARED UNDER HIS AUSPICES, IS, BY PERMISSION, RESPECTFULLY gííjiíaííír s pa-.j.. »■..' - ., ,ff . ‘'W' Hi/ ' ^v. • í .■''■" • ■ 'L^ ' ■/^•é^' ‘^•■Í :':T.':i^tvi ííííV *íi»sa , ,• ' - V _ *- **-^ * •#'V' * P-— f^' 3 ' . " ’: «Sfíit^íAf. . •.-''“í. '^. , W»-.- »r ! , . “%^-^íiv^o^ííí' 7 o ; j; ^ risF; .^ ?:' ■ »A ‘ '^ú ' « •"■ ^ ^ l'- ; •■ ' '/■.♦/ ' .* ■ ,M^T<ílí>A ílil íÍa|V<í)» ^i^-Íf-j-’-A ^ ^2 •* ^ Ov ‘Ti 'sj I ■■ , ■ " • *-)S' *,*^1 Jlji^ .^’ wtwa^^ ne .iic, líi wi^*rti . ta^ ,. r • : ■, ^ ,. 4 ; ■ 31 ^ ír*'-' '■ > — 'í. -, . , ,s -3 l' i®;: ^ ^ •• ■" ■■ ' •■• >■■ V . ;,,v’ ’ J: if'.'- iíi >'•' V :-> >*■ V* 4'::í:H'i' ■ V •■ ^Vi i *1 IMÍ / IV i “‘'^.:/-/Í£;’i;.JÍk M \- iiíF^ PREFACE. Students who are learning Irish will be rauch pleased at the publication of this volume. The work was commenced some few years ago ; — from that time it has received a large share of Idterary care from the editor; The original discourses have been recast in correct spel- ling, then transcribed and published (with translation) in the columns of a public journal ; again corrected, before the text and English version had been finally committed to the printer’s hands. To publish a volume in Irish-Gaelic, without a translation, would have been, thirty years ago, a boon : not so now, without a version in English to aid those who are wishing to acquire a knowledge of Irish-Gaelic. The vocabulary aunexed to the Sermons will aid more fully still, those who wish to make Irish a study, either as a language or as a branch in the department of com- parative philology. The prevailing public promotive spirit in favor of Irish studies has made the task of pro- viding a vocabulary a necessity. To write the text anew, and to present it in a becom- ing orthographic garb — to copy and to prepare an Eng- lish version — to complete a full vocabulary of each word in the Seventeen Sermons — was labor quite as great as if one were to write the work several times over. The Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Bace and Language, written during the same period, was light in the labor which its execution imposed, compared with the re-writing, translating and editing of the present volume of sermons. VI Up to few years ago, the great body of the Irish clergy — even those of Raphoe — knew little concerning the life of the Most Rev. Dr. James O’Gallagher, Some editors of the Sermons styled the illustrious Bishop simply as “Rev.” Dr. O’Gallagher, showing, as far as title could indicate, that, in the ranks of the hierarchy, he held a position subordinate to that of the episcopal dignity. Correct and historic knowledge on this point and on others is now for the first time put before the public regarding the Most Rev. author. To the human mind, certainty, regarding events or truths, is like light to the eye, or food to the palate — full of satisfaction and pleasure. For the knowledge obtained in this way, the writer is much beholden to his Grace the Most Rev, Daniel Mac- Gettigan, Lord Archbishop of Armagh and Primate of All Ireland, and to his Lordship the Most Rev. Hugh Conway, Bishop of Killala. The writer’s acknowledgments are specially due to his Grace the Lord Primate for his very practical and generous patronage. It is by his bounty the volume, as it now stands, has been put to press and presented to the public. Fitness, energy, learning, are necessary qualities in scholars ; but no amount of fitness, energy or perseverance will enable one to print and publish a work of considerable size in Irish-Gaelic, Ample means are needed. Sixty pounds per annum could never enable priest, professor, or president to indulge a taste for pub- lishing new works, however good and desirable. From long experience, the present writer is more than con- vinced that publishing in Irish-Gaelic does not pay, un- less under Government patronage, or with the generous aid of the noble and the munificent. To defray the expenses of printing and publishing the Irish version of the New Testament, made, in 1603, by Dr. William Daniel (or O’Donnell), Protestant Arch- Vll bishop of Tuam, or, as is commonly supposed, by Murtagh King, a tax was levied on the Province of Connacht. Robert Boyle paid the expense of re-printing it in 1687. The Eev. John Colgan could never have published the volumes of Lives of Irish Saints and his Trias Thauma- turga if he had not had generous patronage. The sons of genius and literary toil, sought and usually have found fostering encouragement from the noble-minded and the munificent. Kings and nobles from the da 3 "s of Philip and the Ptolemies stretched out the hand ot sup- port and favor to literary laborers in the past. At home, in 1632 — the greatest work now extant — The Annals .of the Kingdom of Ireland — would never have been handed down to the present time to tell “ of the great men who figured on the stage of life in preceding ages — how our forefathers had employed their time, how long they con- tinued in power — and how they finished their days, — but for the princely munificence of Lord O’Gara, Chief of Coolavin, who for four years most liberally paid the Four Masters for their labor.” “You it was,” says Brother Michael O’Clery, in his preface to the Annals^ addressing Fergal O’Gara, Lord of Moy O’Gara, “ who stood forward in patronising this undertaking, . . In truth every benefit derivable from our labour is due to your protection and bounty.” With good reason these words can be applied to the Lord Primate, and to him alone, by the present writer. The promises of support, calculated to extend the cir- culation of the volume, received from the Most Rev. James MacDevitt, Lord Bishop of Raphoe, have been very encouraging, and accordingly they merit and receive the writer’s warmest thanks. Great care has been taken in revising the proof-sheets. The typographical correctness which the book as a whole presents is owing, in a great measure, to the con- stant care bestowed on the work by Mr. John Glynn, who for years past has directed the “ Gaelic Department"’ of the Tuam News. Mr Glynn is one of the first Irish scholars of the day, as he is certainly amongst the ablest in writing and editing Irish-Gaelic. If the teacher of truth, preaching with eloquence and zeal from any pulpit, affects the understanding of his audience, and incites their hearts to love, the Most Eev. author of these Sermons has — speaking from every fire- side in the three provinces to thooisands of Irish minds and Irish hearts in the language of their race, for the past century — received from the Irish people an amount of veneration that few ecclesiastics, since the days of the Prince of Preachers and of Scholars — St. Columbkill^, — have attained. A work so much sought after some thirty years ago in every Irish Catholic home in Ulster, Connacht, and Munster as these Sermons have been, will, it is hoped — now that they are edited with much care — -be hailed by all classes of Irishmen at home and abroad who cling to the traditions of this Land of Saints, and cherish the saving faith preached by St. Patrick, St. Jarlath ; and by St. Columbkille and Adamnan, of Raphoe, Click J. Canon Boueke, M.R.I.A. President. St. Jarlath’s College, Tuam, June 1st., 1877. CONTENTS Dedication, .... Paf«. iii Preface . • . . V Memoir .... ix Records of Dr. O’Gallagher’s Life, X His own Work, xi Manuscripts, xii Ireland’s Position, , XV Most Rev. Dr. John O’Culenan, . xxi An Irish Bishopric no Sinecure, . xxii The Milesian Race, xxiii The O’Gallagher Family, . xxiv Religion in O’Gallagher's Territory, xxvii Early Training, xxix O’Gallagher’s Childhood, . XXX Vocation to the Ecclesiastical State, c xxxi Prelates of the Name, xxxii Social Position, xxxiii Sent to College, xxxiv His Return to Ireland, XXXV Perils of Travel, xxxvi How Bishops worked and suffered. xxxvii Ireland, Judea, xf.i Sir Phelim MacDevitt, xlii List of Popish Parish Priests, xlv Elected Bishop, xlvi CONTENTS. Episcopal Zeal, ..... Rev. James Caulfield, P.P., of Fanad, or Cluan- da-vaddog, ..... Death of Father O’Hagerty, or Hegarty, Bishop O'Gallagher translatad to Kildare, Dr. Doyle’s opinion of Bishop O’Gallagher, Virtues of the good Bishop, List of Bishops in order of succession in Raphoe Sermon. I. On the Assumption of our Blessed Lady, . II. On the Last Judgment, . . . . III. That it is necessary to love our enemies, lY. On Confession, and on the. conditions ne- cessary, >..... V. On the necessity and efficacy of Penance, VI. On the miserable State of a Sinner,. VII. On the Danger of delaying penance, VIIT. On the Danger of making an unworthy Communion, . . IX. On the advantages of receiving worthily X. On the advantages and conditions of prayer, XI. On the necessity and efficacy of prayer . XII. On the necessity of working out our salvation, ..... XIII. First discourse on death, XIV. Second discourse on Death, XV. Against Swearing, .... XVI. On the Passion, XVII On the Joys of Heaven, .... xlvii xlviii 1 Ivii Iviii lx Ixiv 1-26 • 26-48 48-67 67-88 88-114 114-134 134-160 160-184 184-206 206-226 226-248 248-266 266-284 284-314 314-342 342-372 372 Híosí ^cír. JamíS ©’^allag^ír aníí ^ts SDimís. “Quidncm dulcius quam majorvm recensere gratiam, ut eorum acta cognoscas, a quibus acceperis et rudimenta fid^i et incitomantok bene vivendi .” — William op Malmsbukt. CHAPTER L INTBODUCTORY AVHEN HE FLOURISHED. Up to the present no Memoir of the life of the Most Rev. James O’Gallagher, Lord Bishop of Raphoe, has been written. He lived in times of great trial and tribulation for all who then professed the Catholic faith in this country. The term of his years on earth, from the close of the seventeenth century to a little beyond the middle of the eighteenth, fell in, precisely, with the most trying portion of the Penal period. His life, if viewed at all, must accordingly be presented as it in reality was spent, amid the clouds and storms, and deepest gloom, that ever had, in the fiercest political and social crisis, spread over the ill-fated land of Inisfail. FEW RECORDS OF HIS LIFE ; AND WHY ? The rueful state of Ireland in the last century, and in the beginning of the present, accounts for the fact that very few records of so courageous and distinguished a dignitary of the Catholic Church, in Ulster, have been handed down to those who live at the present day. Catholic Irishmen at home had little leisure then for X literary labour. They had found quite enough to do in endeavouring to live. Men matured in years, or ripening into manhood, have no adequate notion of the blank barrenness in every form of social life which, at the time of Queen Anne, and of the First and Second Georges, overspread the land of Eire. With the learned Franciscans of Donegal, a few of the spiritual sons of St. Dominick, and a wandering bard or two of a joyless time, the genius of literature and learning seems to have fled from the face of Catholic Ireland, and sought an asylum in the college of St. Anthony of Padua, at Louvain ; in the colleges for the exiled Irish founded at Paris, Lisbon, Salamanca, Valladolid, St. Isidore’s, or the College de Prop, fide, at Rome. It has happened, then, that very little regarding the author of these Sermons has been from native sources transmitted to the present generation of Irishmen. A few faint rays alone, refiected from the once living form, have passed through the storm-clouds of that eventful period, and just barely touch the horizon of the present. They convey at best but a dim and an imperfect outline of the original figure, whose portrait in the fullest form it is the wish of the present writer to put before those who read this volume. THE records that ARE, SUEPICE. In the hands, however, of any person acquainted with the political and social history of this country, during the past three centuries, authentic materials for a Memoir have been in sufficient amount, furnished not alone by the voice of historic tradition, but by the volume of Sermons published during his own lifetime by the author ; and laslty, by “ Extracts from the Consistorial Acts taken XI from manuscripts in Public Libraries in Rome.” This last authentic and most important work has been published only within the past year, TRADITION. Many important events which occurred in the early part of the eighteenth century have been made known to the generations now living, through the mouth of well-sustained truthful tradition. In the early part of the present century there lived in the diocese of Eaphoe many persons who had seen and heard the holy bishop, Dr. O’Gallagher, in the days of his episcopal missionary life. These good people narrated in their day some of the incidents regarding him to others. The late venerable prelate, the Most Rev. Patrick MacGettigan, Lord B ishop of Raphoe, known so well to almost every clergyman at present in Ireland, saw and spoke to those who themselves had heard and seen the Most Rev. Dr. O’Gallagher. Some few of the incidents, narrated by the late venerable bishop to the present illustrious Primate of All Ireland, regarding the author of those Sermons are, now for the first time, presented in these pages. HIS OWN WORK. Indeed the preface to the first edition of the Irish Sermons plainly points out, that their author was a bishop, and that he wrote and published those discourses in times of trial and great national turmoil. He says : “ St. Paul gave strict charge to his beloved disciple, St. Timothy, to preach incessantly the word of God — Proedica verhum^ insta opportune, importune — 2 Tim. 4. In discharge, then, of this duty — that of Xll preaching — so incumbent on me, and on all pastors, and much more on such as are ‘overseers’ of pastors (epis- copos in Greek signifies ‘overseer’) I have composed the following discourses for the use of my fellow-laborers principally ; and next for such as please to make use of them, that they may preach them to their own flocks, since my repeated troubles debar me of the comfort of delivering them in person.” The publication of the volume of his Sermons has saved the memory of Dr O’Gallagher from sinking into the sea of forgetfulness. They are the plank on which his name and fame have floated securely over the billows of a stormy social sea. MANUSCRIPTS. Valuable information has been gleaned from the volumes published last summer and this present spring (1877), from the pen of Mr. W. Maziere Brady, formerly Vicar of Donaghpa trick, and Eector of Kilberry, diocese of Meath, and at one time Chaplain of several successive Lords Lieutenants of Ireland — the Earls of Clarendon, St. Germans, and Carlisle, — at present a Catholic convert living at Eome. The new work from the pen of Mr. Brady is known as ; “ The Episcopal Succession in England, Scotland, and Ireland, with Appointments to Monasteries^ and Extracts from Consisforial Acts, taken from Manuscripts in Fublic and Private Libraries in Borne, Florence, Bologna, Bavenna and Paris. Rome — Tipogrdiiia, ddla pace. 1876.” Of this splendid work the compiler and editor writes : — “His object was to trace from Eoman'^ archives the succes- sion of Archbishops and Bishops in the Sees in England, Scotland, and Ireland, and to collect from authentic sources documentary illustrations of the period when England broke xiii oft' relations with Rome, and ceased to be a CathoUc nation; The chief records to be examined for such a purpose are the acts of the Pope’s Consistory And further on — p. XII — he says : — "The episcopal succession in Irish Sees was maintained with- out interruption down to existing times. And this succession may be traced in Consistorial records, although with several interruptions, from 1409 to 1697 . . . . " The Penal Laws against Catholics were so severely carried out by Elizabeth and James I. that the Holy See endeavoured as much as possible to secure secrecy in the despatch of Bulls or briefs, for the appointment of Irish Bishops. With this end in view, the Pope sometimes gave orders, that the provisions made in Consistory to Irish Sees should not be published in the ordinary way, nor mentioned in the Consistorial Acts, and some- times such appointments were altogether referred to the Con- gregation of the Holy Office. In spite of all the efforts made in Rome, to ensure secrecy in this matter, the British agents frequently succeeded in obtaining early intelligence of Papal appointments; and many Bishops, on attempting to take pos- session of their Sees, were arrested and thrown into prison. The State Papers, still preserved in London, afford abundant illustrations of the severity practised upon Catholic Bishops who thus fell into the hands of the English Government, and who were either tortured, put to death, or sent into exile.” Again he writes The public Consistories are generally held in one of the large halls of the Yatican. The decrees, or Acts of the Consistory, are recorded and kept by special officers. The modern Consistorial minutes or documents are registered in the Consistorial Secretariat in the Palazzo della Cancellaria. The more ancient records are deposited in the muniment room or ArcliivioConsistorialein the Court of S.Damasus in the Yatican. The latter ArcMvio is strictly private, and admission to it is rarely applied for, and still more rarely granted. It contains besides the Consistorial Acts, the Acts or records of the Con- claves, which cannot be inspected by any person except during Conclave, and then only by special order from the Cardinals themselves. The Consistorial Acts, which now remain in the Yatican, date only from the year 1409, the more ancient volumes having been lost or destroyed during the frequent disturbances and revolutions to which Rome has been exposed (p. vii., vol. I.) xiv standing on the high hills of the historic past in the light presented by impartial witnesses, one can take a glance at the state of Europe, and especially of Britain and Ireland, in the seventeenth century, and see how far the up- heavings of European society had an effect on the spirit of Englishmen in their relation to Ireland. NEW WOELDS OF MATTER AND OF THOUGHT. The intellectual life of Europe in the sixteenth century and in the seventeenth was subjected to unusual and ex- traordinary processes of literary and scientific deve- lopment. A new continent had just a little before that time been discovered by Columbus. That single event changed at once the old theory of Ptolemy regarding this earthly dwelling of men, and urged unsettled spirits to seek for fresh fields of enterprise, and means of acquiring new territory. To scholars, sublime and refreshing know- ledge regarding the natural heavens was laid open — worlds in space, planetary systems, hitherto unknown, were presented to the astronomer’s gaze. “ A new heaven and a new earth were,” so to speak, “ created,” and as if all this were not enough to keep thinking men in a state of excitement, an intellectual battle that has continued to this hour on the high spiritual ground of religion, then began. Beligion drew into the fight of heroes on earth all that relates to heaven. Thus the natural and super- natural, in wild and conflicting forms, engaged men’s thoughts. The most powerful incentives that can pro- mote energy and excite action were on either side enlisted to take a share in the combat. The fight, described by Homer, in which gods and men commingled in the same battle-field, was only a faint forecast of the interesting and long-continued struggle; In this mighty contest XV the sovereigns of England— Henry VIII., Elizabeth, James I., the two Charleses, to a certain extent, the Protector, Anne, and the Georges— sided with the spirits that sought, not reform, but freedom from legitimate control — hot liberty, but license — not God, but self. Another powerful element, at once of enterprise and hostility, was excited anew in the breast of every Briton, namely, love of gain — love of acquiring new lands and increased territorial possessions, together with an ill-re- gulated desire for power, for plunder, and self-indul- gence, ibeland’s position. Ireland, so long, in ages past, secure from the attacks of the legions of Imperial Home, owing to her remote situation and insular position, now quite near to the adven- turous sons of Britain, was no longer secure from aggression. This island was a territory in which at that time religious hate, love of land and uncon- controlled power could be satisfied to the fullest extent by those who sought a field to exercise these favorite failings. Under the influence of a hostile spirit, rendered delirious by religious mania, and insensible to every emo- tion that enobles human nature, the Penal Laws, during the reigns of Henry YIIL, Elizabeth, James I., Charles, Cromwell, and Anne, were enacted. In the same demo- niac spirit, as Mr Froude shows History of England,” vol. X., p. 509), were carried on the wars which devast- ated Desmond and the principalities of O’Neill and O’Donnell, the territories of O’Eourke, MacGuire, Mac- Mahon, and O’Dogherty. The action of the Penal Laws uprooted and almost completely destroyed Catholicism in England ; it ruined, exiled, or destroyed the Catholics of the Pale — the English settlement in Ireland [see “ The XVI Troubles of our Catholic Forefathers, Related by Them- selves,” edited by John Morris, priest of the Society of Jesus — London, Burns and Oates. “ SufBerings of the Irish Catholics,” by the Most Rev. Dr. Moran, Bishop of Ossory] ULSTER FREE. The historian of the time presents the “ impetuous Shane O’N’eill, with the fiery spirit of his race,” wearing in true princely style with the golden collar of the chief- taincy, seated in the sacred chair of Tullaghog, holding in his right hand the white wand of sovereign sway, again saluted by all the subordinate chiefs — the O'Kaen, the O’Loughlin, O’Dogherty, by all the chieftains of Ulster descended from the royal house of King Niall. Shane’s successor — the gallant Hugh — maintained the high position of the princely house of Niall the Great, even despite all the hostile military power of Elizabeth. As long as the chief of Tir-Eoin looked out from his palace at Dungannon, Ulster was free. The Brehon Laws and no other, formed the code that ruled the native Gaels. Catholics were free to practise the sacred duties which their religion imposes. Up to the year 1607 there had not been a single Protestant in all the North ex- cept those Anglican soldiers who held English garrisons. No monastery had, up to the dawn of the seventeenth century, been suppressed ; no priest persecuted, no Ca- tholic north of the Erne insulted, no church desecrated, no bishop banished in the territories governed by the Princes of Tir-Eoin and Tir-Connaill, A CHANGE How did it fare with that land of heroes after the XVll flight of the Earls ? The former state of things was completely changed. The territorial possessions were confiscated, the people’s religion proscribed, the bishops banished, priests persecuted, churches demolished, mon- asteries made desolate, the land taken from the native proprietors and sold to adventurers from London, or from other parts of England and from Scotland — the creed of the conquerers imposed on the Catholics. The natives were told off to Connacht or to another settlement more remote. Those who remained became hewers of wood and drawers of water. As the early Christians fled from Jerusalem to Pella before the armies of Vespasian and of his son Titus, so the Catholics of Donegal fled from the towns and took refuge in the mountains and in the re- mote glens of the hallowed country of Tyrconnell. At the hands of an infuriate and a bigoted soldiery, wild with lawless desire of plunder and lucre, and maddened with a religious fanaticism, the Catholic Kelts of the North re- ceived no quarter and obtained no mercy.* The horrors that period (1607^ this island was like a dying man in the last throes. Ireland as a nation had now been fighting — north and south, east and west — for over half a century. She lay, like a wounded stag at bay, bleeding and dying, surrounded on all sides by wily hunters. They came, as the historians of the period — even their own friends testify, to murder and plunder — to take by every means in their power possession of the lands of the Irish chieftains. So says Leland : “ The object ot the Irish governors and of the Eaglish Parliament was the utter extinction of all the Catholics of Ireland.” And Carte» in his life of Ormond, says ; “ They had their hearts set, not only on the extirpation of the mere Irish, but likewise on those of all the English families that were Roman Catholics !” And why ? Not entirely out of hatred for the faith of the Catho- lics, but out of love for their lands. “ Their object,” says Prondergast, in his great work. The Cromwellian Settlement, was rather to extinguish a nation — to take thoir lands — than to XVJll of Bulgaria were then enacted in Ireland without any appeal as now to England’s justice and love of fair play. No Gladstone lived then. The men who composed the Anglo-Irish Parliament and those who had influence in the Home Government at Dublin were animated with a kindred spirit. It is painful to present such a picture as this of the state of Ireland at the time, but it is true. If to see it, and contemplate its horrors is painful, it must have been, in its reality, one of intense horror to those who endured its galling weight of woe. Facts must be recorded no matter how painful must be their recital. The record of the acts of the early Christian martyrs is the title deed to their fame and glory amongst men, and a proof to posterity that their deeds have even on earth been justly crowned by Holy Church. Persecu- tion is nothing new to Catholics either in the East, or in the West. St. Paul tells his brethern the Hebrews (xi. 37.38) that those who held to the faith were stoned, were cut asunder, were tempted, were put to death by the sword, that some wandered about in sheep-skins, in goat-skins, that they suffered want, that they were in distress and affliction, of whom the world was not worthy wandering in deserts and in mountains, or living in dens suppress a religion. Therefore, they transferred the estate?, and with them all the power of the state, to an overwhelming flood of adventurers. The Penal Laws merely carried out in their full severity enactments, already repeatedly passed by the Catholic Anglo- Irish parliament against the native Gaels, — their laws, their language, and their lands. Regarding the kindly nature of the soldiers, Froude says : — “Injustice to the English soldiers, it must be said, that it was no fault of theirs if any Irish child was allowed to live to manhood.’’ — Hist. Eng, '•-Yo\. x. p. 509. XIX and in caves of the earth. This state of things, which St. Paul knew so well in his time, was put into practice in the region of Fermanagh, Donegal and Derry. Ireland had received the faith without the shedding of blood. It pleased God, after eleven centuries and longer, to put the spiritual children of St. Patrick to the test, to prove to the world the depth of their devotedness to God, and of the strength of their faith in Christ. The Catho- lics of the North were now one with their brethern in the South, and with those of Leinster and Connaught, — all being purified in the baptism of blood shed in the cause of Christ and His Church. A PARALLEL. Passion uncontrolled by reason and not directed by the will to do good has, in every age, produced the same deplorable results. Between the Imperial persecutions of Pagan Rome — enacted and carried into effect against the Christians of the first three centuries — and the Penal persecutions enacted against the Catholics of Ireland, there exists a striking similarity. The Pagan powers wanted to stamp out the Christian faith by destroying those who professed it, — the Anglo-Irish rulers sought blindly and mercilessly to root the Catholic faith out of the souls of Irishmen, by destroying the lives of those who professed the faith of their fathers. Even in times of quiet, when the emperors issued no edict, the Christians were not free from insult, spoliation, or the threat of death. A pagan prosecutor had it any moment in his power to bring his Christian neighbour before a Roman pretor and charge the defencless man with professing a creed held in horror by the state. So it was in Ire- land. The Catholics were never secure even in times of r I XX peace from the terrible threats of the Penal edicts passed against them. The terror of these laws stood, like the sword of Damocles, suspended over their heads Beady at any moment, at the whim of a wily neighbour or a false friend, to pierce them through or to cut them off from home, liberty, and life.. On account of the specially intense violence of the Pagan persecutions at certain periods, like volcanic erup- tions, and for clearness in historic plan of the details re- garding them, the cycle of years during which the passions of the Pagan world wrought the destruction of the Christians is divided into twelve epochs usually known as the twelve persecutions of the Christian Church. For the same reason the special epochs in which Irish Catholics suffered for the faith they pro- fessed may be divided into six. — These periods were (1) under Henry VIII., (2) Elizabeth, (3) James I., (4) Oliver Cromwell, (5) Charles II., (6) Anne : the last was perhaps, the fiercest and worst, for its force was felt up to the reign of the last of the Georges. MOST HEV. DB. JOHN O’CULENAN. The life of the Most Rev. Dr. O’Gallagher falls in fully Wfith that Penal period which dates from the begin- ning of the reign of Queen Anne. The condition of Ulster at the time of his birth cannot be understood clearly and fully without a passing notice of the fifth and fourth Penal epoch. One particular in- stance, or two, of persecution presents a more vivid and a fuller idea of the continued lawlessness and tyranny of the times than any lengthy historic narration of public events. The exposure of the child Moses in the waters of the Nile, the fact that his brethern made bricks xxi whilst they were obliged too to provide straw, points out more forcibly than any number of pages could depict the slavery and sorrow endured under the regime of the Pharaos by the children of Israel living in Egypt. The one sad recital by the historian Josephus regarding Mary of Bethezub that she had roasted human flesh to make a meal, and that the broiling meat which had attracted the Roman soldiery was the flesh of her own child, gives the student of history a most painful yet true picture of the siege of Jerusalem under Titus. The following authentic historic facts regarding the Most Rev. John O’Culenan, a.d., 1645, the immediate predecesser of Dr. O’ Gallagher, as Bishop in the See of Raphoe, point with a pencil of flame the sorrowful plight at that period, of the Catholics of Donegal : — O’Cuilenan had been preoonized in the consistory of 21st May, 1625. Dr, O’Culenan was consecrated for Raphoe in 1629. On the fifth of September, 1636, he wrote to the Secretary of the Propaganda asking to be translated to Derry. He describes the diocese of Raphoe as wretched in the extreme owing to the machinations and the actual evil doings of the English and Scotch sectaries who drove out the Catholics, so that scarcely seven hundred Catholics of any note remained in it. There were but sixteen priests left, and the Catholic bishop and clergy were reduced to indigence. By the arts of some false brethern whom he had corrected, the Bishop had been arrested and brought to Dublin, where he had been detained three months, and was twice brought before the Viceroy and Privy Council. About the year 1643 the Bishop fell again into the hands of his enemies. He and some of the gentlemen and nobles of his diocese were besieged and compelled to surrender to English soldiers who promised them quarter, but in viola- tion of the terms of surrender put seventy two of them to the sword, and were resolved to kill the Bishop also. They led him to the brink of a river and oflTered him the choice of death by drowning or by the hands of the soldiers. The Bishop re- monstrated with them in vain against their broach of faith, and XXI 1 when he found them callous to his entreaties, elected to be hilled by the troops in preference to death by drowning. They stripped him naked and three soldiers aimed at him as he knelt, but their cross-bows failed to carry the leaden balls, nor could they ignite their matchlocks. They cried out that he was a demon whom neither bullet nor powder could harm. Pikemen then advanced to spear him to death. Colonel Sir James Askin arriving unexpectedly saved his life, and rebuked the soldiers for their brutality towards one to whom they had already given quarter. The Bishop was then brought to Londonderry, and there was con- fined for four years in a dark dungeon, where he suffered from cold, hunger and thirst, and was deprived of the light of sun or moon. His keepers offered him liberty and honors if he would but apostatize. At length General Owen O’Neill gained the battle of Benburb and took many prisoners of rank for some of whom the bishop was exchanged, and so was relieved from prison in the year 1647. The Bishop had six brothers, all older than himself, and all prelates. The eldest, Galasius, was a doctor df the Sor- bonne and Abbot of Boyle, who was imprisoned in Dublin, tortured and hanged. Another brother, James, Abbot of Samorien, (Ashroe county Donegal), died September 16, 1637, aged 95 years. Bishop O’Culenan went into exile in 1653 and died aged about 78 in Brussels, MarCh 24, 1661, and was interred in the chapel of the Virgin, in the church of St. Michael and Gudule. — See Moran’s Spicil. Ossor. 213 — 306. AN IRISH BISHOPRIC NO SINECURE. The life of a Catholic Prelate in the seventeenth cen- tury — in Donegal that of the predecessor as bishop in the See of Eaphoe of Dr. O’Gallagher — was not, as described, calculated to make young men full of worldly wisdom, ambition the cure of souls, neither did it serve to excite their zeal, to seek for high positions in the persecuted church. Dr. O’Culenan ’s life was one of perils, penal- ties, privations, poverty, persecution — to be closed by a martyr’s doom, if providence had not saved him for further trials. The martyrdom of his Grace the Most xxiii Rev, Dr. O’Hurley, Archbishop of Cashel, under Eliza- beth, or, subsequently of his Grace the Most Rev* Oliver Plunket in the reign of Charles II. was simply as heroic as that of St. Polycarp ; and the sufferings of Dr. O’Culenan were not unlike those of St. the Evange- list, or of St. Sebastian the martyr. Catholic Ireland was now a mater dolorosa, a fit land for the followers of a persecuted and a crucified saviour. It was at this trying time that the child, James O’Gallagher, came on the stage of life, to act without fear the part of a good man, an heroic Christian soldier, a zealous priest, a distin- guished preacher and scholar, a persecuted Irish Catholic Bishop. CHAPTER H. “ Filius sajpiens Icetijicat patrem, — Liber Prove rbiorum, c. X. THE MILESIAN RACE. From pre-christian times the Kelts of Ireland, although speaking the same language, were, like the Romans in the time of the Republic, descendants not of one race but of many races. This process of blending different migrations, of the great Aryan or Japhetic stock into one national family added immensely to the development of the character of the Irish people, physically, socially and intellectually. Of all the races that went to form the Irish nation anterior to the seventeenth century, the XXIV Milesian and the Anglo-Norman have furnished the most powerful in frame, the most eminent and successful in all that constitutes intellectual greatness. The latest of the pre-Christian migrations was the Milesian. They were brave, chivalrous, skilled in war, superior in outer adornment as well as in natural culture to their Firbolgian and Danaan native rivals. They were the conquering races ; they assumed the sovereignty of the country j they became the landed proprietors and aristocracy of ancient Eire. Duald MacEirbis, the genealogist, writes of the Milesian race ; “ Every man who is white of skin, brown of hair, bold, honourable, daring, prosperous, beautiful, brave in battle or combat, they are the descendants of the sons of Milesius in Erinn.” THE o’gALLAGHEE. FAMILY. The O’ Gallaghers, or as the name was written in the fifteenth century and in the times anterior to that period, O’Galchors, were a Milesian sept descended from Heremon, and of the sub-family or tribe of Conal Gulban, one of the eight sons of Niall, well known in Irish history by the title Naoi-Ghiollach, or of the Nine Hostages, and the instrument in the hands of pro- vidence of bringing the youthful Patrick from the coast of Brittany a hostage to Ireland. On the occasion of that famous marauding expedition to the Armoric coast Patrick and two of his sisters Lupita, or Limania, and Darerca were, with two hundred on the same occasion, seized, conveyed to the coast of Ireland, and sold as slaves. This event happened in the year of Christ, 400 the ninth of the reign of the monarch Niall. XXV KING NIALL AND HlS SON Of the eight sons of King Niall four are, owing to their princely position in the past, or because they became distinguished in an eminent degree as the pro- genitors of illustrious races, worthy of special attention from the student of Irish history. First — Laogaire, the eldest, was supreme monarch of Ireland at Tara when, a.d. 432, St Patrick came as bishop, commissioned by St, Celestine, Pope of Rome, to preach the Gospel to the Irish. Second — Conall, surnamed Crimthann, progenitor of the southern O’Keill, and first Christian monarch of the royal line that ruled the kingdom of Meath from a.d. 432 to 1172. Of Conall Crimthann was descended Malachy the Second, who flourished a.d. 978. Malachy II. conquered the Danes near Tara and slew Paguall, son of Amlaibh, the Danish king of Dublin. He freed that city from the power of the Danes, liberated two thousand prisoners, set the king of Leinster at liberty, pronounced the race of O’Neill free from the power of the foreigners, defeated in a hand-to-hand fight two champions of the proud invader, and took the sword ' from one, and from the other the Collar of Gold. Of this illustrious monarch — ^the forty-sixth of the Christian kings of Meath, and the descendant of Conall — our national poet has sung ; Let Erin remember the days of old. Ere her faithless sons betrayed her; When Malachy wore the Collar of Gold, Which he won from the proud invader. To him and to the supreme monarch Brian are due the defeat and final expulsion of the Danes from Ireland. XXVI Third—Eon, or Owen, monarcli of Aileach, of whom are descended the princes and kings of the royal house of O’Neill, — the Lochlin, O’Kane. From Owen the peninsula to the north-west of Derry has received the name of “ Inis-Owen,” — that is, Owen’s Island. The territory to the south, extending eastward nigh to the shores of Lough Neagh, and westward to the barony of Raphoe, became known by the name of Owen’s country, or Tir-Eoin, restricted in later times to the territory con- tained within the boundaries of the present county of Tyrone. Fourth — Another Conall, surnamed in order to dis- tinguish him from his brother of Meath, “ Gulbin,” from the fact that he was reared near Ben Gulbin, in the coui ty Sligo. His posterity possessed nearly the whole of the modern county Donegal, and hence that territory had received the name of Conall’s country, or, in Irish Tir Connaill — anglicé Tirconnell. Conall Gulbin was ancestor of three princely and historic families, — the first rendered more illustrious still by the birth of St. Columba, or Columkill (the Dove of the Church) — prince and saint — father and founder of the monastery at Iona, in Scotland ; the Christian poet, artist, and the greatest scholar and evangelist of the sixth century, — the apostle of Scotland and the northern isles. The second — The princely house of O’Donnell, Earls of Tirconnell. Third — The family which, in the ninth century, adopted the surname of O’Galchor, or O’Gallagher. Of this princely race the subject of the present memoir — the Most Rev. James O’Gallagher, author of the accompanying volume of Sermons in Irish Gaelic — was descended. Born of pious and honourable xxvii parents, but who like Joseph, the carpenter, had been at the time reduced, it is likely, to comparative poverty. RELIOION IN o’GALLAGHEb’s TERRITORY. In the long roll of years that passed over, from the fifth century to the seventeenth, the clan Ui Galachar, held according to the terms of the Brehon-law code, the lands that lie between Kil barren and Asharoe, on the south-west, and extending on the east along the shores of Lough Erne. They possessed other lands not less rich and fertile to the west and north of the present town of Mountcharles, reaching along the sea as far as Killaghtee, and northward to Killymard, and up as far as the hills, in which the Reelan river takes its rise, and which form the boundary line o£ Lower Killybegs. These two districts are about the fairest and most picturesque portions of the territory of Tir Connaill. Each village in this barony is a landmark in history’s page ; each mound tells the antiquarian that at one time a monastery or a church had been built there. At Inver, to the north-west of the town of Donegal, there is not a vestige of any architectural ruin, and yet a famous monastery once stood there, founded by prince Natalis, or Naile, son of .^ngus, king of Munster, whom St. Patrick baptised. In that monastery St. Naile, abbot, and St. Madog of Ferns, and their myriad disciples, instructed and edified the faithful of the early Irish Christian Church. The power of St. Naile was so great, in work- ing miracles, that, as is recorded in his life, he, like another Moses, struck a hard rock with his crozier and obtained fresh water for his disciples and followers, who were at the time suffering from thirst. At Drumhome XXVlll lived the celebrated St. Ernan, who, on the night on which the happy soul of Columba departed this life in the chapel of his monastery, at Iona, in Scotland, beheld at the same moment, as he was keeping vigil in his cell, by the shores of Donegal bay, the blessed spirit of the apostle of the Piets ascend luminous, like a flash of lightniug, but beaming and beautiful, to the kingdom of the blessed. This fact he communicated that very same morning to his brethren at Drumhone. Some few weeks later, the religious learned that the sainted Columba had gone at that same hour to join the angelic choirs. Not a trace of that grand ancient monastery is now to be seen. St. Columba, himself a native of Donegal, founded Kilbarron, and placed the religious establishment under the spiritual care of his relative, St. Barr-fhion (barr, header top; fion, fair). Of that Cill, or church, no remains are at the present day to be found. The religious houses at Asharoe, at Donegal, Killaghtee and Killibegs, are, compared to those of the sixth century, quite modern. As the islands in the bay of Galway are called “Aran of the Saints,” so county of Donegal may be called the country of the Churches — the land of religious life. Every glen and hillside from Slieveleag, where Bishop Asicus — the founder of the diocese of Elphin — took up his abode and spent his life in prayer and penance, to “ Both-Conais,” in the northern part of Inisowen, where Conas, the husband of Darerca, sister of St. Patrick, built a famous monastery, — became a site for a saintly settlement, or a home for hermits — a place for penance, prayer and learning. The monasteries at Donaghmore and Carn-donagh were founded by St. xxix Patrick himself, that at Clonleigh by St. Cairneach, a.d., 630, that at Kilcar by Carthagh, bishop of Lismore. The hermit homes along the valley of the Nile, — the monasteries of the East, with their inmates appear to have settled down in Donegal. EARLY TBAININO YOUTHFUL ASSOCIATIONS. Biography is history presented in the life of an indi- vidual. One’s life is moulded by early training and youthful associations. The draughts of Christian truth, of moral worth, of literary lore, imbibed in the days of youth strengthen and mould the man for after life ; man matured in knowledge moulds the masses, and becomes himself the centre of the stirring events of the passing generation. The youthful James O’Gallagher lived in the very heart of a district that was redolent with the odour of Christian virtues of the saints who had flourished in his native glens and cluans, men who had blessed the times in which they lived, and who have left their names a blessing to those who have come after them. He read their history in the churches built. He saw the works they had, in their day, achieved. He was himself of the same princely race as some of the brightest names in the pages of Irish history. He loved his own dear Donegal, — her people, their religion. — Why should he not be a soldier of Christ, and a teacher of the glorious faith which so many princes and prelates had practised. He looks around the territory of the O’Gal- laghers — north of Lough Erne or on the rising headlands at Inver — and on all sides he witnesses the works which heroes of his own race had wrought in years and generations long gone by. The land of Conall’s descendant’s was rich too in the grandest historical XXX memorials of antiquity and civilisation, Ogham stones, cairns, towers, palaces. It is picturesque too, abounding in varied natural beauties. Standing on the rising ground above Inver bay, a splendid view of land and sea on the west and south is seen. One beholds as on a map the bay of Donegal, stretching out before the view, re- minding one of the famed bay of Baiae or of Naples. The line of tlie Leitrim coast with its sandy beach and indented headlands ; the shores of Sligo county stretch- ing more southerly still with its islands like sentinels protecting the land against the invading waters of the warm gulf-stream of the Atlantic, which rush to embrace in the wildness of their fury or affection, the famed ter- ritory of Hy Diacra : — Further west and seemingly float- ing on the horizon’s rim, appear in the purple rays of the setting sun, not unlike a wall of burnished brass — those outposts which keep watch and ward on the western coast of this emerald land — the territory of South Erris in North Mayo. o’gallagheh’s childhood. As the district around Eas-Aoid-Euaid belonged to the descendants of Conall Gulbin, and especially to the Gal- lachor sept, it is nearly certain that in this district, not far from the shores of magic Lough Erne, James O’ Gallagher beheld, while yet a child, some of the rare scenery of the most charming territory in Ireland. His birth occurred in the eventful year in which the Most Rev. Oliver Plunkett Archbishop of Ardagh and Primate of all Ireland suffered at Tyburn ('1681), four years before the death of the second Charles, or perhaps a few years earlier still. VOCATION TO THE ECCLESISTICAL STATE. In the new law God has not made choice of any par- xxxi ticular nation, people, race, sept or clan, tribe or family, to be, like the Levites amongst the Jews, his chosen ministers by right hereditary. In the church of the new law He selects those whom He is pleased to call, and out of any family He wishes. Although this statement is true, it has happened nevertheless, from the days of St. Paul who greatly commended Timothy for the well known piety of his mother Eurice and his grandmother Lois, that certain families had for centuries, chosen members called to the priesthood of the new law. In- stances without number have been furnished in every diocese of Ireland. There are families in which the sacerdotal seal and blessing, has in each succeeding gene- ration for three hundred years and longer, been stamped on one or more of a family of sons who have received a vocation to the priesthood. There are reasons for stating that the uncle or cousin of the youthful O’Gallagher had been a priest, although no special record of the fact, as far as can now be learned, has come down to the present time. Many of the Abbots of the Monastery at Eas-Aoid-Euaid (Asharoe) were of the O’Gallagher family. PRELATES OP THE NAME. It is certain from W. Maziere Brady’s late work “The Episcopal Succession,” that there were from the year A.D. 1420, to 1637 — of the name O’Galchor or O’Gal- lagher, including the author of these sermons, eight prelates of the diocese of Eaphoe, and one of the neigh- bouring diocese of Derry — the Most Eev. Redmond O’Gallagher, a.d., 1569 ; and Lord Abbots The following excerpts are from Mr. Brady’s work : — FIRSt ; A.D. 1420 . FEBRUARY 27 . LAURENCE o’qALCHOR I. Tertio Kal. Martii 1420, confirinata eat electio Laurentii XXXll Decani Rathpoten., ad Ecclesiam predictam, vaoantem per mortem, in proviacia Arraachana in Hibernia.” Vatican ; con- sistorial Acts: He died in 1438. (Ware). Second : 1443. Laurence O’Galchor II. On 9tli August 1443, “Marianas Obresten, rector parochialis ecclesiae de Inischael, Rapoten, dioc., et Clemens O’Feregal, Vicarius Ecclesim de Donaghmore, Derens. Dioc., procuratores R.P.D. Laurenti, lecti Rapoten, obtulerunt, &c., 33J Florenos. He died in 1477. 3 — 1502 A.D. — Art O’ Gallagher and John O’Loiste (two abbots^ contended for the abbacy of Easaoidruaidh. — Both died on the same day — Four Masters. And on 29th April, 1550, the Abbot of Eas-aoid-Ruaidh, namely, John, the son of Donnell Ruadh O’Gallagher, died. 4 — In 1534 — May 11, Edmund O’ Gallagher ** Die 11 Mali, 1534 ad relationem Rmi deYalle, ecclesias Rapoten, in Hib., vacanti, per obitum Menelai, Marcoman, extra Romanam curiam de- functi, et devolut. ob. no. nominationem regis, et vacavit ab annis xvii., circiter, fuit provisum de persona Edmundi Odor- mich O’Galacharus decani illius, cum retentione omnium et Bingulorum, &c.” Vatican and Barherini. 5: 1547, December 5th. Arthur O’Gallagher. RomsB apud sanctum Petrum, die lunae 5o Decembris, 1547, fuit consistorium, &c., &c. Referente Rmo Carpensi, providit ecclesiae Rapotensi, vacanti per obitum bo. mem. Edmundi Ogalcubair, olim episcopi Rapoten, extra Romanam Curiam defuncti, de persona R. D. Arthur! etiam Ogalcubair, decani eeclesi® Deren., in setate legitima, et presbyteratus ordine constituti, ipsumque illi in episcopum praefecit et pastorem, curam, etc., committendo, cum retentione decanatus ecclesiae Deren., et cum dispensibws, derogbws, et clausulis opportunis et consuetis — Barherini. Thi? Art O’Gallaglier, according to a catalogue of Eaphoe Bishops preserved in the British Museum, was a spirited gentleman, and always went with a troop of horsemen under his colors. No bishop of Baphoe appears in the Parliament List of 1559. 6 — Art MacFelim Pin O’Gallagher, Bishop of Raphoe, died at Ceann Maghair on 13th of August, 1561 — Four Masters. XXXlii From 1661 to 1695 the seo of Raphoe was governed by Vicars or Administrators. In 1683, Decembar 14, Lonis Gallagher was appointed Vicar-Apostolic or Episcopal Administrator. 7 — 1725 — James 0 ’ Gallagher ; He was consecrated November 14, 1725 (old style), by the Archbishop of Armagh assistentibus — the Kev. Bernard MacMahon, Dean and Yicar Apostolic of Clogher, and William Reilly, Archdeacon of Armagh, in opioido Pontinensi ("that is, Drogheda) in Armagh diocese. O’Gallagher was translated to Kildare in 1737: 8 — 1737 — Daniel, or Bonaventure, O’Gallagher. He was appointed on the 10th December, 1737, by Brief* He was a Friar of the order Min. S. Francis de Observ, and filled successively the offices of Lector and Guardian in St Isidore’s, Rome. He was consecrated privately by Cardinal Antonio Zaverio Gentili in his palace at Rome on the 29th of Decern- ber, 1737. O’Gallagher died at the Dominican College in Sligo, and was there buried in 1749. Regarding the Most Rev. Redmond O’Gallagher, Lord Bishop of Derry, the following entry is found in the manuscripts belonging to the library of Prince Bar- berini ; — 9 — 1599, June 22 — '*Die 22o Junii, 1569, referente, etc., Morono S.D.N. absolvit R. Redmundum Ogalhur Episcopum Aladens, a vinculo quo ecclesise Aladen. tenebatur, et earn transtulit ad ecclesiam Deren., vacantem per obitum Eugenii Idocharti (O’Dogherty). “This Redmund O’Gallagher,” says Mr Brady (p. 317, vol. I), “received a faculty from the Pope in 1575 to exercise certain jurisdiction in Armagh during the absence of the Primate.” See Dr. Renehan’s collections — “ Irish Church History,” (p. 274.) SOCIAL POSITION Not alone in worldly wealth and in their high social xxxiv stan'dibg in Tir-Cohnaill — the land of their princely progenitor — did the sept of the O’Gallaghers hold a com- manding position, but from the excerpts just above pre- sented to the reader’s notice, it is manifest that they formed a leading, or, at least, a very influential body in the diocese of Raphoe. SENT TO COLLEGE. After such training in the rudiments of Latin as could be obtained either from lay teachers or from the clergy, the youthful O’Gallagher was sent to the College des Irlandais, Paris. From this renowned seat of learning he went, after a few years, to the College de Propaganda Fide, Rome, to complete his theological studies. The writer of this memoir wrote some days ago to the Very Rev. the Rector of the Irish College, Paris, to learn if the name of James O’Gallagher is found in the list of those students who entered in the early years of the 18th century. He has been told in reply that all the records of events previous to the great French Revolution of 1793 have perished in the universal destruction that swept away at the time everything private or public, so- cial or sacred. To a letter, written at the same time (February, 1877), to his Lordship the Most Rev. James MacDevitt, the following reply has been received : — Letterkenny, February 28, 1877. My Dear Canon Bourke— I am very sorry to say that I have not been able to find any tradition, even of a semi-reliable cha- racter, regarding the parents, date of birth, place of birth of* Bishop James O’ Gallagher. Mr Brady’s book gives all XXXV tlte facts which I know of his life. I hope to be able to enqaire more closely, and I shall let you know. Believe me, my dear Canon, Yours very sincerely, »{4 James MacDevitt. The Propaganda College, Rome, had, at this time been established over three-quarters of a century. The date of the erection of the sacred congregation de Propaganda Fide, is stated by Monsignor Ingoli the first secre- tary to have been the sixth of January, 1622. Clement YIIl, had some years previously appointed a congregation with the same title which was not of long duration. The Bull of Gre- gory XV for the creation of the existing institution was dated the 10th kalends of July, 1622. — Brady, preface to Vol. I. In 1627 the Irish College in Rome for the secular clergy was established through the munificence of Cardinal Ludovisi nephew of Gregory XV, and through the exertions of Father Luke Wadding. Ko record has been handed down to show how long til e young priest had been in Rome; whether he was appointed for any length of time Professor in any col- lege, as happened to others (Dr. Oliver Plunket, and Dr. Brennan), or came at once to his native “ Tir-Connaill,’* to encourage, comfort, and with every needful spiritual help to console the persecuted Catholics of his native diocese. HIS RETURN TO IRELAND. It was the rule of the Irish College that the students after their ordination should return to Ireland. — They were obliged solemnly to avow their intention of discharging this duty, should they not be exempted from it by their superiors. It is not unlikely that he re- mained at Rome for a few years as Professor. The Holy See knowing at the time how much the XXWl Irish ecclesiastics were enduring for the faith, aware too, that the English Government had in their service paid spies and informers, in order to learn who were to be ordained for the Irish mission, or who were to be conse- crated and appointed to vacant sees, endeavoured as much as possible to secure secrecy in the despatch of all ecclesiastical business relating to Catholic Ireland. In spite, however, of all the efforts of those at Eome, or in foreign Colleges in which Irish ecclesiastics were edu- cated, to secure secrecy, the British agents were, in many instances, successful in discovering priests as well as bishops; and such as were thus found suffered the martyr’s doom. PERILS OF TRAVEL. A journey from Ireland to France or Flanders and thence to Rome — or from Rome to Ireland was not, at this period without its dangers. — Each ecclesiastical student leaving the shores of Ireland had to encounter three special dangers — First, the danger of becoming known to the minions of the British Government ; second, of being seized on the high seas by pirates or cruisers ; third danger, that of being killed by highway-men or banditti on the continent. In the life of the Most Rev. Oliver Plunket one reads at p. 11 that when young Plunket had left the shores of Ireland for Flanders in company with and guided by Father Scarampo, they were pursued for twenty- four hours by two large vessels, and were more than once in danger of falling into the hands of the enemy. The Nuncio Rinuccini (in October, 1645) had the same perils to encounter on the high seas. Plunket and Father Scarampo were next seized by bandits in Flanders, XXXVll Thus it was in these troublous times, every student leaving the Irish shore should be prepared, apart from the usual dangers of the deep, to encounter other perils by sea and land — to use the Apostle’s words, perils of waters, perils of robbers, perils from his own nation, perils in the city, perils in tho wilderness, perils from false brethren. And he adds that he was in labor and painfulness, in many watchings, in hunger and thirst, in many fastings, in cold and nakedness. “ They,” says he, “ are the ministers of Christ. I am more. In many more labors, in prisons more frequently, in stripes above measure, in deaths often.” Trials such as those described were not uncommon to the Christian teachers of the nascent Church. Trials of the same kind were common to Irish priests and bishops in the early quarter of the eighteenth century. Dr. O’Culenan, bishop of Raphoe in 1636, had endured them; the bishop of Waterford, Dr. Brennan, and the Primate, Dr. Oliver Plunket, in 1673, endured intense privations. HOW BISHOPS WORKED AND SUFFERED. Writing to Monsignor Cerri, Secretary to the Propa- ganda, on 15th December, 1673, Dr. Oliver Plunket states ; — “ I confirmed during the past four years forty-eight thousand six hundred and fifty-five. And there are some dioceses here that have not seen a bishop for forty years, though the Catho* lies are numerous in them. Since the dread of the Parlia- ment commenced in the month of February last, I did not re- ceive ten scudi from my diocese, and at present, since the pub- lication of the edict, not a coin is to be seen. With diflBculty can a piece of oaten bread be found, and hut of straw. The house where I and Dr. Brennan are, is of straw and thatched in such a manner that from our bed we can see the stars, and at the head of our bed every slightest shower refreshes us ; but we are resolved to die of hunger and cold rather than to abandon our flocks.” XXXVlll Truly, the position of Prelate or even Primate in those days was not one of ease, or of wealth, or one for the worldly-minded to ambition. Vicars, or administrators, governed the see of Raphoe from A.D. 1661 to 1695, when the Bishop of Derry, Dr. L. Lea, obtained a grant of it in administration. He governed it till 1720. The income from the diocese of Raphoe, in the year 1671, amounted only to the sum of fifteen pounds. The letter of the Vicar-General of Raphoe to the Cardinal Secretary of the Propaganda is worthy a place in these pages : — “ For nineteen years I cultivated in France atod Italy the studies of speculative and moral divinity, as also those apper- taining to ecclesiastical Jurisprudence ; and whilst I was in Eome, Alexander VIII., of happy memory, granted to me, in commendam, the Abbey of St. Thomas, in Dublin. Six years since, I received the care of souls in the diocese of Meath, but I was not long allowed to remain in that diocese. For our most illustrious Primate called me to his diocese, and conferred on me the Priory of Kath, which had annexed to it the care of souls. How I would have wished that the Primate had allowed me thus to live in private, and attached to the service of one particular church, and not place me on the eminence of an entire diocese. I was obliged to obey his Grace and accept the Vicar-Generalship of the diocese of Raphoe ; and in order that I might obtain peaceable possession, the Primate himself accompanied me through these rugged paths, truly like to those of the Alps or the Appenines. Hex’e the spiritual harvest is great, and these districts, though otherwise abounding in sterile mountains, yet are ripe for the sickle, but the labourers are few, and even these are but little acquainted with the art of arts — that is, the guidance of souls. There are about four- teen priests, of whom one alone passed the boundaries of this kingdom. . . . The diocese itself is, for the most part, sterile, and produces only barley and oats, and its riches con- sist in oxen, horses and swine. The whole diocese does not annually yield more than £15 of English money — that is, 00 XXXI X Italian soudi. But the Primate promises me a better support, and has already given me in advance 20 scudi. Impelled solely by spiritual motives have I embraced this province in a region so sterile, rough, and rugged. I confess, too, that the exhortations of the most illustrious Primate, confirmed by his own example, moved me very much; for often has he confirmed the children in these mountains and woods, and often, too, has he had no other food than oaten bread, salt butter, and stir- about, and no drink but milk. We are all amazed how a man of such a delicate constitution, and so delicately (as I myself have known) reared in Rome, should be able to undergo so many labours, so many journeys, so many rugged and difficult things. Assuredly, unless he adopt another manner of living and acting, he will lose his health, and will become useless to himself and to others. Stimulated, therefore, by his example I will reside in these mountains, that thus I may merit our Redeemer’s grace, and the esteem of the Holy See and the Sacred Congregation.- I will make your Excellency acquainted with whatever occurs. One thing I forgot to mention, that the Presbyterians possess the better and more fertile part of this diocese, whilst the poor Catholics hold the mountains and woods, and have no other possessions than their fioeks. According to the civil nomenclature, this district is called Tirconnell, and its chieftain was a famous prince, the Earl of Tir-Connell, of the illustrious family of O’Donnell, who about the beginning of James the First’s reign, after a long war, fled to Rome I ask your blessing, &c.” In a letter to Home, dated 6tli March, 1675, the Primate writes ; (See Dr. Moran’s ‘‘ Life of the Most Hev. O. Plunket.) “The diocese of Raphoe, is about forty miles long and six- teen wide. It has eighteen parish priests, and there is in it one convent of Franciscans. The Yicar-General is Bernard Magorke, a learned and exemplary man.” sfmmahy When the Earls fled in 1605 from the shores of their native land to find at Home rest and an asylum from troubles and sorrows which they could not remedy at home, the owners of the lands of Ulster were Catholic ; XL in 1635, the proprietors were foreign and non-Catholic, having no sympathy in common with the people. The fierce antagonism between the new proprietors and the natives who had contrived to remain, was rendered fiercer still during the long and destructive eleven years war from 1642 to 1653. In his letter to the Cardinal Sec- retary of Propaganda (a.d. 1636), Dr John Culenan, Bishop of Baphoe, states that there were in his diocese at that time only sixteen priests. The second administrator of the same diocese (Bernard Magorke) declares, in 1671, that the number of priests who then lived to labor for the spiritual wants of the Catholic faithful was only fourteen, of whom one only had received an education in a foreign college. And he tells us that his own income amounted annually to the modest sum of fifteen pounds English money. From 1675 to 1695 the condition of the diocese was in no wise improved, even up to the date of Dr, Lea’s death, in the early part of the eighteenth century (1720). In 1725, the Most Bev. James O'Gallagher received episcopal conse- cration and jurisdiction to govern the diocese of Baphoe. The fresh Penal laws framed against the Catholics were in the malignant spirit that devised them, and in their effect, and in the long number of years which they were permitted to be enforced, much more trying than anything that had been done since the days when the Earl of Sussex, under Queen Elizabeth, had received orders to up- root the Catholics out of Ireland, By contrast, too, with what the people naturally expected, the penal enactments passed under Queen Anne against the Catholics were rendered trebly painful and oppressive. By treaty at Limerick the Catholics had been promised full freedom to exercise their religion — to have equal rights with their xli fellow Protestants. This field of hope vanished like a fairy vision. The treaty was made, and directly vio- lated by the King and Government, the promises never kept ; and after the death of William, the former penalties were renewed, and others more galling enforced. In this trying ordeal through which Irish Catholics were obliged to pass, the clergy and natives of Raphoe were amongst those whose faith and fortitude were most sorely tested. Saxon garrisons were ever on the watch along the banks of the Foyle to hunt down priests and papists. The soldiery were very ignorant and puritanical, and of course they hated with a strong hate the race and religion of the Catholic Irish. A PAHALLBL. IRELAND (a.D. 1608 ): JUDEA (a.C. 167 ), The following example of Catholic heroism in the seventeenth century is the strongest illustration that could be presented to the reader, to point out how much the gentry and nobility of Ireland suffered for the Ca- tholic cause — for the grand old saving faith of their fathers. The martyrdom of Sir Phelim MacDevitt is not unlike that of the venerable Eleazar amongst the Jews, at the time when the inhabitants of Jerusalem and Judea were persecuted to death by Antiochus, King of Syria : — Sir Phelim MacDevitt, the firm friend of O’Doherty, and the chief actor with him in this rebellion, was betrayed into the hands of the English soon after the battle of Kilmacrenan, Pardon, the restoration of his vast property, and some of the highest honours at the disposal of the English Crown, were offered to him by the Lord Deputy if he consented to renounce the old faith of the Catholic Church and embraced the new one of the Keformalion. This offer was rejected with scorn, and Sir Phelim refused to accept life at such a price. His con- stancy through the inhuman tortures to which he was subjected has gained him a place by the side of the most illustrious mur- xlii tjrs in the Church, while his devotion to the yonng chief of Inishowen and to the popular cause, at a time when it became the fashion of the Irish chieftains to stand well with the Eng- lish, has won for him the lasting admiration of his countrymen. He was executed at Lifford on the 27th September, 1608, and the circumstances of his glorious death are related by O’Sullivan Beare, an historian who had taken part in, or was contempora- neous with, the facts he relates and one whose testimony is proposed as second to none in historical value.” He writes as follows : — “ After the death of Doherty and the defeat of his brave little army at Kilmacrenan, Sir Phelim MacDevitt hid himself in the mountains. He was soon tracked by Government informers, and though still suffering from the effect of his wounds, was dragged before the Lord-Deputy, who, in loud and angry tones, demanded of him ‘ where is the immense plunder taken by yourself and O’Doherty from the king’s subjects ?’ Sir Phelim answered : * the spoil taken by O’Doherty is all in my possession, hut of what was taken by our soldiers I know noth - ing.* ‘ Give up then what you hold,’ said the Lord-Deputy, ‘for it has been taken by rebels from inoffensive and loyal subjects.* ‘Allow me to inform your Excellency,’ said Sir Phelim, ‘that the spoil taken by my young master is his rightful property by the laws of war and of the holy Catholic religion, but as ho is now in heaven, where he has no need of it, I will deliver it to you on condition that you give me my liberty and permit me to emigrate to Belgium, Spain, or France.’ ‘ I will not only set you free,’ answered the Lord-Deputy. ‘ and confirm you in pos- session of the spoil you have taken, but will confer upon you the most splendid reward, and the highest honour at the dis- posal of the crown, provided you renounce your religion, ack- nowledge the king head of the Church, and swear allegiance to him.’ ‘ Never,’ said Sir Phelim, ‘will I renounce, for any human favour however great, for any wealth however enormous, or for any position however exalted, the holy Catholic, Apostolic, Eoman faith, brought into this land by St Patrick, established by his miracles, professed unto blood and death by my fathers, received by me in baptism, and maintained by me in unfalter- ing practice.’ ‘ Fool,’ said the Lord-Deputy, * you refuse to accept a religion which will secure to you the favour and affec- tion of a powerful king, one who will be to you a kinder and more munificent master than the hair-brained young chieftan who has just perished in his crimes.’ ‘ Your offer,’ replied Sir Phelim, ‘ is a damnable one, and let me remind you that in making it to me now, after the loss of my beloved master, and xlíii of all my fortunes and inheritance besides, is a crime of un- fathomable guilt, because it suggests the terrible wickedness of making God my enemy, and thus lead a life here of racking misery, and hereafter commit myself to eternal punishment. Proceed at once to employ your executioners in torturing this body of mine, already enfeebled by wounds. I rejoice to be able to make an offering of it to Jesus Christ in satisfaction for my sins. Yes I rejoice and give thanks to God for the ineffable favour of having offered me this opportunity of shedding my blood for that loving Saviour who poured out his blood, even to its last drop, for me.’ The Lord-Deputy, fired with rage at these defiant words, ordered a gallows to be erected, and all the preparations for immediate execution to bo got ready. Sir Phelim ascended the ladder with intrepid step, and having ad- vanced to the front of the platform, spoke in nervous and feel- ing language to the Catholics who were there assembled. He implored them to pray fervently for him to get grace to seal with his blooa the glorious confession of the faith which Christ bequeathed to him and them. He then gently submitted him- self to the executioner,* who, after pinioning his arms and fastening the rope around his neck, withdrew the bolt and lot fall the drop. The body leaped out into the air with a sudden j erk ; the rope snapped in two, and Sir Phelim fell heavily on his feet A cry of horror rose from the spectators ; the executioner rushed at his victim with a hatchet ; Sir Phelim only staggered under his blows; two soldiers ran to the assistance of the exe- cutioner, and in a short time felled the powerfully built man to the ground. The mangled victim, with dying voice, again implored the Catholics to pray for him j his fine figure and handsome face elicited the admiration and pity of the crowd ; there were exclamations of shame, subdued curses, angry menaces and long low wailings during the progress of this butchery. The executioner soon brought his work to a close j he plunged a knife into Sir Phelim’s breast, cut it open, tore out his heart and flung it into the fire, kindled near him, and thus put a glorious end to a grand and glorious life.” This tragpc account reads like a chapter in the history of the early Christian Church: The Roman tyrants and their infamous minions, in their thirst for Christian blood, did not torture their victims with more refined cruelty than what was exercised at Lifford, in a civilised age, on this noble Irish chief, for refusing to renounce the faith bequeathed to him by his fathers. The early Christian martyrs, like Sir Phelim, were offered glittering honours, and dazzling wealth if they^ renounced the faith of Christ; like him they flung back X1ÍY th« offer with scorn j and like him their bodies were hacked, they were disembowelled their hearts were torn out and cast into the hre. The clan MacDevitt had to fly from the face of the English after the execution of Sir Phelim. Their castle of Aileach, near Derry, and the lands they possessed on the banks of the Swilly and Foyle; and away in the distant Inishowen, were con- fiieited and handed over by James I. to the “ undertakers.” The family took refuge in the remote glens of Donegal, where their descendants fondly cherish the memory of their illustrious chieftain and martyr. ELEAZAR. “ Eleazar one of the chief scribes, a man advanced in years, and of a comely countenance was pleased to open his mouth to eat swine’s flesh. — But he choosing rather a most glorious death than a hateful life went forward voluntarily to the tor- ment “Thus did this man die leaving not only to young men but also to the whole nation the memory of his death for an ex- ample of virtue and fortitude. — See Second Maohabees c.YI, for the heroic martyrdon of how Eleazer suffered and died for the law of God. CHAPTER III. Quod fatiunt angeli in ccbUs et hoe faeiunt monaehi in terris. — S. Hieronimub. HIS RKTURN FROM PROPAGANDA. There is no record, as far as the writer is aware, that tells the time when the Rev. James O’Gallagher re- turned from the College of the Propaganda to the home of his fathers in Donegal. It was some time after the year 1704* This much is plain from the “ list of Popish parish priests” — that is, of priests doing missionary duty xlv &s distinguished from members of the clergy living ac- cording to religious rules, — “ as they were registered at the general sessions of the peace for the different coun- ties in Ireland, pursuant to an Act for registering the Popish clergy in July, 1704.” — See “Irish Ecclesiastical Eecord” (vol. xii., p. 299J. All who did not make such return were liable to be committed to a common gaol, then convicted, and next transported. For a full account of this wonderful list of all the secular clergy then in Ireland, read vol. xii. of “ Ecclesiastical Eecord.” In this list, the name ' of Eev. James O’Gallagher is not found. In the diocese of Eaphoe, the priests were so few, that a young cleric from Propaganda would certainly have had the care of souls committed to his spiritual keeping. The ministrations of a young and learned clergyman, fresh from one of the grandest and best missionary col- leges in the world, were at the time, sorely needed by the poor persecuted Catholic natives of Eaphoe. The Irish Catholic Church has, thank God, never failed in the supply required, of clergymen strong in divine faith, filled with apostolic zeal, warm with ardent, intelligent piety. The Catholic faith in Wales and in the Highlands of Scotland was lost from want of a continued supply of pastors. Ireland’s Catholic life and health were saved and preserved by the continued supply of faithful pastors ; and God called these priests to his sacred ministry to reward the prayers of the Irish nation, who, like Israel in bondage, cried to heaven to save and guide them. The energy and dash of the Keltic character of our race xlvi was a natural help in the efforts of the nation to sur- mount misfortune, or, at least, to make it tolerable. God’s blessing was on the land of saints, and teachers ; and she has come out of the ordeal, after three centuries of persecution, like the eagle, with renewed vigor, or like the phaenix, with revived vitality. ELECTED BISHOP. Some years after the death of Dr Lea, who held the See of Raphoe in administration, Dr James O’Gallagher was (1725) made choice of to govern the diocese, not as Vicar, but as Bishop. He was the first Bishop since the death of Dr John O’Culenan. — See supra (p. exxiii.) ac- count of the appointment of Dr O’Gallagher by Propa- ganda as recorded by Mr Brady and copied from the Consistorial Acta. In Drogheda (oppido pontanensi) the consecration took place. The consecrating prelate was his Grace the Lord Primate — Rev. Hugh MacMahon ('1713-1737). Bernard MacMahon was Dean and Vicar- Apostolic of Clogher and brother to the Lord Primate. The vener- able dean became after the death of his illustrious brother Lord Primate in 1737. •* In 1737, Bernard MacMahon,” says Mr Brady, “ was trans- lated from Clogher to Armagh by brief dated November, 8, 1737. He had a second brief dated September, 1738, in which the Primatial dignity of the See was set forth. And in De- cember, 1738, he had a brief giving power to exercise all Archiepiscopal Acta without the Pallium.” The new Lord Primate of All Ireland lived for many years at Ballymacscanlon, in the county Louth, “under the feigned name of Mr Ennis.” The Most Rev. Bernard MacMahon died May 27, A.D. 1747 j and his remains were buried in Errigail church-yard, in the county Monaghan. xlvii la 1747, Bernard was sacceeded by Ross MacMahon. He was brother to his predecessor, and was translated from Clogher to Armagh by brief, dated August 3rd, 1747. He lived as Primate of All Ireland only one year and two months, dying October 29, 1748. He was buried in Errigail church -yard. THE THREE BROTHERS. It is worth while to note that the three Primates, Hugh MacMahon, Bernard MacMahon, and Boss Mac- Mahon, were brothers ; that each presided as Yicar Apostolic over the suffragan diocese of Clogher, and that each in turn was translated from Clogher to govern the metropolitan and primatial see. They were successors worthy of the martyred Oliver Plunket, — of St. Malachy O’Morgair, and of the apostle of the Irish nation, St. Patrick. EPISCOPAL ZEAL. The new bishop entered on the work of chief pastor of his native diocese with energy, prudence, charity and zeal. He made episcopal visitation of each parish. He preached and administered the Sacrament of Confirma- tion. He did all that energy and genius, combined with zeal, could do to teach in secret the rising youth of the diocese. He prepared young candidates for the priest- hood, by teaching them Greek and Latin, and the prin- ciples and practice of a Christian life. He caused the faithful to be well grounded in the leading dogmas of the faith. His income, we must presume, was not much larger than that which Baphoe contributed in 1671, and in 1695, to the Yicar Apostolic. He lived, as was the custom, dressed like a gentleman farmer, amongst his priests and devoted people. He knew all their wants, — all their virtues as well as their faults. If any scandal occurred he was, like St. Paul, on fire until it was re- xlviii moved. He continued this active work for nine years. In 1734 he had occasion to visit with ecclesiastical censures a priest of the diocese, known as the Rev. Thomas Caulfield, or Campbell, for in Gaelic he was called ‘‘ an t-atair Tomas Catihaoil,” and by those who were on familiar terms with him, Tomás Buide — that is ‘-Yellow Thomas.” He was by no means like those of Milesian descent — fair of feature. Rev. Thomas Caulfield abode at the time in the parish of Killygarvan, of which the Rev, Father O’Hagerty was then parist priest. Killygarvan is situated on the left bank of Lough Swilly, opposite a fertile district, known as Fahan Upper, and Fahan Lower, — between which, like a pearl set in a ring, lies the neat town of Buncrana. And speaking of Fahan, it cannot be out of place to tell, that its patron saint is Muranus, a member of the princely house of the O’Heill, who in the seventh century made choice of Fahan, then a wild and barren district, to build thereon a church and monastery. The howling and barren waste was soon converted into rich land, teeming with luxuriant crops of meadow, and of golden grain. St. Muranus and his monks have passed away, and nothing to-day remains, save the splendid lands, and the name and fame of the patron saint both of Fahan and of the O’Keills, in Ulster. In the parish church of Killygarvan, on the left bank of the Swilly, the bishop officiated on the Sunday when he deemed it his duty to visit Father Caulfield with censure. He preached on the occasion, and among other things ho told the flock, and the faithful of that parish and those who dwelt about, not to make use for the future of the spiritual or religious ministrations of the suspended xlix priest. In his sermon on confession he makes a passing allusion to this, without of course naming the priest. Father O’Hagerty had, as a matter of course, asked the good bishop to consider himself the guest of the parish priest as long as his Lordship should remain at Killy- garvan. The Bishop accepted the courteous offer. Mean- time in the course of the early evening the Lord Bishop received a note from an aristocratic landed proprietor in the neighbourhood, named Potter, inviting him to dino. The trusty messenger who conveyed the note of invita- tion, was a native and a Catholic. Irish-Gaelic was the only language known at the time to the inhabitants. Having read the letter, his Lordship, in a quiet homely way, asked the servant who had presented it : “ Cia do barramail an c6ir dam a dul ann sin ? — What is your opinion, — ought I to go there ? The servant replied, ‘'Ma tá meas agat ort fein, na teig.” — If you have any respect for yourself, do not go, — or, as another version has it, “Ma is mait leat a beit beo, na teig.” — If you wish to be alive (to continue in life) do not go. The good Bishop took the well-meant hint. He declined to go. He spent the evening in the humble dwelling of the Parish Priest, conversing on the events of the day, — on the condition of the parish, on the wants of the people, the trying character of the times, — the families and the race of Hagerty, who dwelt in the parish, or in houses situated along the glens and crags, and the steep ravines of the mountain district, from Killygarvan to Millford. In these mountain wolds the tribe of O’Hagerty held their ancestral homes. The pastor of Killygarvan had his abode at “ Beann-na-gallac,” — “the Cliff, or Ben of the Pillar Stones” — in the very midst of his own people, to whom he was endeared by the double tie 1 of pastor and clansman. The Bishop and Parish Priest enjoyed an agreeable evening. Brittle did Father O’Hagerty think, at the time, that the evening thus spent in intellectual and pious converse with his Bishop was the last that he was destined to spend alive on earth. Yet, so it was. At the proper time the Bishop retired to take his night’s rest. He could not sleep. He arose at mid- night. He came to the host, and said that he felt anxious to leave. He seemed like one whom some super- natural power was urging to depart. The kind Parish Priest told the Bishop, that to leave the house at that hour would be an act of great folly. “You have taken no rest,” said he, “ and the way is wild, dangerous and lonely. The best thing you can do, is to go again to rest, and endeavour to sleep till morning ; then, you may go, if you so wish.” The Bishop was persuaded. He did retire to his room, and went to bed again. He strove to sleep, but sleep fled from his eyes. Again he arose, after a few hours, but this time he did not go to tell his resolve to Father O’Hagerty. He saddled his own nag. Riding in those days, and indeed until very recently was the only means of making a journey. In the times of St. Patrick, of St. Bridget, and of St. Jarlath, as is narrated by chroniclers, the use of chariots or carriages was not unknown in Ireland, — still, it is a fact, that the use of public cars or coaches was unknown in this country until introduced about the year 1807, by Mr Bianconi, and after him by others. In the days of Queen Elizabeth carriages were not in use in England, — nay, not up to the time of the Second of the Georges. A.t five o’clock in the morning of a day in the early spring time, long before the sun had arisen, or the li coming dawn had silvered the horizon, O’Gallagher set out on the bleak way from “ Bean-na-ngallac,” to Rathmullen. Scarcely had the watchful chief pastor of the diocese made his departure, in a south-easterly direction, from the village, when from an opposite quarter a troop of red-coats rushed down the hill road leading north-west, and quickly surrounded the priest’s house. A magis- trate from Millford, with a foreign name, Buchanan, headed the band of soldiers. They received information that the Bishop had been, the evening just passed, the guest of the parish priest, and that he had on Sunday oflSciated. A wild cry rings in the air. “The Popish Bishop ! — the popish Bishop ! Send out the Popish Bishop. Out with the felon ! ” Buchanan chuckled with the conviction that he had the Bishop caught. Father O’Hagerty came to the door. He spoke to the magistrate and the ofl&cer in command. He assured them that the Bishop was not inside. He repeated the as- surance that no ecclesiastic was under his roof. They, however, did not give any credence to his words. To men, whose minds have been trained to deceit and guile, the words of plain, simple truth, appear only the expres- sion of craft and cunning. This is true of all men wlio themselves are given to duplicity. The Pharisees could not comprehend the simple sayings of Christ. It is so to-day. If one speak with simplicity and truth, he is told, as our Lord was, “Thou hast a devil.” Again, Father O’Hagerty assured the soldiers and their commander that the bishop was not in or about the house. He went further : he told them that his lord- ship feared they might come, and that, some hours past lii midnight, he had departed without even bidding good- bye. The soldiers became soon convinced after a vain search that the words of the priest were true. The realisation of the idea had, however, no other efEect than to enrage them the more. They were determined to have somebody. Had they come from Millford, and marched all that night, on a bootless foray ? If they had not a Popish Bishop, they had the next best thing certainly — a Popish Priest. They beheld standing before them a man who celebrated, as the Bishop had done, idolatrous rites, as they called the holy sacrifice of the Mass — a ceremony denounced as wicked and detestable by the laws of his Majesty, King George II. They were the high executors of British law. So great a crime could not be overlooked. They seize the priest ; they drag him forth j they bind his hands behind his back. They raise a wild shout of heretical hate against the disciple of Him who, for the instruction and encouragement of His ser- vants, was bound with iron chains, led captive by a brutal band of Jewish soldiers from Gethsemani to Jerusalem, and, so like the present journey, in the dark hour of the night, too, proclaimed publicly to be an im- postor, a felon, a traitor, subverting the rights and the laws of the Jewish nation. The British soldiers, led by Buchanan, force their victim forward, and march to Millford jail. And now the cry goes forth from house to house along the way ; the news is carried from village to village in which the Clan Hagerty dwelt, that their spiritual father and kinsman was seized and dragged off to jail by Saxon soldiers. Men and women, young and old, from the ad- jacent villages rush to the rescue. Anger and dogged resolve are depicted on their brows. They muster in small bands at a distance from the soldiers as they march forward. Clansmen unarmed, and courage without wea- pons, are only weak against soldiers with muskets in their hands. And now the grey dawn of morning fringes the hori- zon’s rim. The drear darkness of night has passed. The bright rays of approaching day flange the sky ; and soon the dawn throws a robe of grey over the bosom of the earth. Another half hour passes and the hardy mountaineers enjoy the light of day. From hill and dale, from mountain and glade, from ravine and roadside, the Clan Hagerty muster in their strength. “ Do, or die” is the wild cry of people fllled to the lip with love and hate — love of their kinsman and pastor, hate of their enemies. Buchanan and the sol- diery read the signs of fury in the faces of the sturdy clansmen. Densely and fleetly they gather, concen- trating their numbers into serried lines, and completely surrounding the British troops ; sometimes rushing in advance, sometimes harassing their flank, or bursting suddenly on the rear of the little troop as they turn round a knoll or hill slope in the mountain passes of Killygarvin. In the defiles and narrow turns they tumble rocks down on the soldiers, and wound or kill whom they can. With volleys of missiles they harass Buchanan’s band. The women, too, come to the rescue, and supply their husbands, sons, or brothers with stones and any kind of missile which they find ready at hand. One of those who — then a mere little girl — supplied the fighting men with stones, told the tale as it is here narrated to the late Most Rev. Dr. MacGettigan who described it in full to the present Lord Primate of All Ireland, from liv whose lips the writer of these pages noted the whole history, as his Grace graphically pourtrayed the incidents of the touching tale. Buchanan and his men see the vast bodies of peasants who had already gathered ; others in crowds hastening along the mountain by-roads. The magistrate and officer in command begin at length to fear that by dint of numbers alone their little band might be annihilated before it would be able to reach Millford. Buchanan fears for his own safety ; but with hate in his breast for the priest, he is reluctant to perform an act of grace or of seeming kindness — to give the pastor to his distracted flock. He levels his blunderbuss or horse-pistol at Father O’Hagerty’s head and shoots him dead. The body of the priest falls to the earth. His blood gushed forth in streams ; it filled the furrows on the mountain pathway. His fractured head lay open, and his brains bespattered the stones and heather. The soldiers hurry onward. The people who follow see their kinsman slain. They had intended to rescue him from the hands of his enemies. How he is set free from all the chains that bound him to earth. His spirit has soared to “ that world where souls are free.” He has joined the ranks of the martyrs ; and his robes have been washed in the blood of the Lamb. No efforts on their part can now bring him back to his widowed parish or to his orphan but faithful children ; and, therefore, it is no use, they say, to pursue the savage soldiery further. Like the Dardanians around the body of Hector slain, or rather like the Hebrew women mourn- ing over the dead body of the Patriarch Jacob, the Clan Hagerty raise over their fallen kinsman the wild cry of grief. His remains are conveyed to the home which the Iv good pastor had that morning for the last time on earth seen. They receive every mark of social and Christian honor ; and are, with all the ceremonies which penal times permit, and with the prayers of his clerical breth- ren and of his clansmen, consigned, amidst the mourning and wailing of his people, to kindred earth in the little church of the parish of Killy garvin. Meanwhile, the bishop had passed Rathmullen, and had by this time reached the neighborhood of Ramelton, from which, with as little delay as possible, he proceeded to Letterkenny, avoiding, on his ride, those districts where the English soldiers held garrison. After a few days he reached his native home near Eas- Aoid-E-uaid, hard by the shore of Loch Erne. In one of the small islands of that lovely lake he secured, amongst the humble but trusty clansmen of the Gallacher sept, a secure asylum. For fully twelve months he remained there compara- tively unknown, dressed in peasant costume, holding aloof from public gatherings. It was in one of those small islands, like St. John in Patmos, that Dr. James O’Gallagher re-wrote and pre- pared for press the fragmentary sermons which he had from time to time preached in Irish to the flock entrusted to his pastoral charge. Ho states in the preface to the first edition the reason why, at that time, he prepared the sermons for publica- tion. It is, he says, that since his own repeated troubles debarred him of the comfort of delivering them in per- son, others of his fellow laborers — his own priests — • might, by having them in printed forms ready at hand, be enabled to preach them to their flocks ; and next, that Ivi such as might choose to read them, for pious lectures, could make use of the work for their own instruction and spiritual profit. Had he not had leisure-time then, those sermons now given to the public, would, it is likely, never have been put before the eyes of the Irish readers. The composition bears the impress of order, care, and of considerable study, along with profound, theological, and scriptural knowledge. In the following year, 1736, he published, in Dublin, the first edition of these sermons. The work was printed in the modern Homan letter, like the High- land Gaelic of Scotland, and the spelling adopted, was on the principle of phonetics or sound and not accord- ing to the rules of Irish orthography. That was a great mistake, “ Lest any one,” he says, should be dis- couraged from making use of this little work, I have made choice of letters which are obvious to all ; — this was so far right — but he adds, “ in spelling I have kept nearer to the present manner of speaking, than to the true and ancient orthography.” The author allowed another literary blot to disfigure the pages of his book — the occasional use of English and Latin words, which were then in vogue amongst some Irish speaking natives, Edward O’Heilly, author of the Irish and English dic- tionary, did much to correct these two faults in the eighteenth edition of the sermons published under his supervision in 1820. Dr. Gallagher’s example of print- ing Irish according to sound was followed by ecclesiastics in Conracht who edited catechisms in phonetic gibberish. Thanks to O’Eeilly, to Dr. O’Donovan and to the learned societies that have sprung up, for the past half century, these literary blurs have been for ever removed. The primitive grace and philologic value of the Manx Gaelic Ivii have vanished owing to incompetent teachers, who pre- ferred sound to sense ; and because there has not been in the island a scholar with learning and courage sufficient to stamp the Gaelic speech with the orthodox forms of orthographic correctness. Irish Gaelic, on the other hand» has been kept free from all foreign lingual admixture, and it is now admitted to be the purest source along the stream of philology and of comparative etymology. VISITS DUBLIN. The Most Rev. author of the sermons must have spent in the Irish capital, the time during which the work was in the printer’s hands, In no town of Ulster could the work have been printed ; and none but the author could understand the proofs from the printer’s hands. After this time (1736) Dr. James O’Gallagher never went back to his diocese of Eaphoe. TRANSLATED TO KILDARE, A.D., 1737. From the year a.d., 1733, the Most Rev. Stephen Dowdal, successor to the Most Rev. Dr. Dunne (1724) had ruled the united dioceses of Kildare and Leighlin, Dr Dowdal’s health was at this time beginning to fail ; and, accordingly, the Most Rev. Dr. O’ Gallagher, known so well at Propaganda, was, by brief, dated 18th May, 1737, translated from Raphoe to the see of Kildare. In the same year, on the 17th July, he was by letter of the sec- retary of State declared administrator of Leighlin. As soon as Dr, O’Gallagher had been appointed by the Holy See to govern the diocese of Kildare, he entered with- out delay upon the scene of his new episcopal labors. From his infancy he had been trained in the school of privations, of poverty, of perils and of persecution. Ho had left a diocese that was very poor, scarcely rich enough to yield such a yearly income, as sufficed to pro- Iviíi cuie the immediate necessaries of life, for one who, like St. Paul, merited the best attention from those whom ha served so well. He enters upon a diocese much richer in, worldly wealth. He had been obliged, for reasons of prudence and in keeping with the advice of our Lord, to fly from Haphoe; — yet he is not without fear even in Kildare. He had spent nigh 12 years of incessant labor in Ulster; — in the Pale, he enters on a course of continued labours — to close only with death some fourteen years later. Where does he establish his episcopal resi- dence ? Surely in the town of Kildare, or Athy — of Ballytore — or of Haas, or in some of the important and pleasant localities that abound in that pastoral county. Not at all. For motives of prudence, love of poverty and privations, he makes choice of the Isle of Allen, surrounded on all sides by bog. In this selection he showed the spiritual instincts of the monks of the early Christian church iu Ireland who, on all occasions made choice of places quite out of the way of the world around. In the third year after his appointment to govern the churches of Kildare and Leighlin he published a second edition of his volume of Sermons in Irish. From a note in the Irish-English Catechism by Hev. Andrew Donlevy, L.L.D., director of the Irish commu- munity at Paris, it is seen that the Bishop read and gave approval in '1741 to that splendid thesaurus of theologi- cal teaching compiled and published for the benefit of the Irish people by the learned doctor. DU. doyle’s opinion of bishop o’gallagheb. In the life of the Most Eev. James Doyle, Bishop of Kildare and Leighlin, fourth successor of Dr. James lix O^Gallagíier — a life written with admirable skill, and in a fine, bold style, by William John Fitzpatrick, Esq., J.P., — it is recorded that the former distinguished prelate visited the tillage of Allen : Shortly after the conse- cration of Dr! Do3de, he was accompanied on his visita- tion to the obscure village of Allen by the present parish priest of Kildare (when Mr Fitzpatrick published the life, 1861). “ ‘Do you see those wretched mud walls ?’ observed the priest. ‘ They are the ruins of the episcopal palace of one of your predecessors, who there, in penal days, ate the bread of tribulation and drank the waters of adver- sity. Although an active labourer in the diocese, he was never without some pious youths in the house with him, whom he instructed in Greek and Latin and theo- logy previous to sending them to Paris for ordination. Thus did this good man, almost in sight of the gibbet, continue to keep up the scanty supply of pastors for the poor people of Kildare and Leighlin. His bones lie be- neath yonder uninscribed grave.’ “ Dr Doyle was visibly affected. He remained silent for some time, and then broke into that splendid train of musing which appears in his letters from Allen (vol. L, p.p. 314, 315.;” The annexed is a portion of the letter written on the sixth May, 1823 — the fourth year of Dr. Doyle’s episco- pal career ; — Allen, 8fch May, 1823. I am here placed in the centre of an immense bog which takes its name from a small hill under whose declivity the chapel and house are built, where I now write. What, per- haps, interests me most in the wide and vast expanse of the Bog of Allen is, that it afforded for nearly two centuries a place of refuge to the apostolic men who have gone before me Ix in preaching the faith and ministering the sacraments to a people in every respect worthy of such pastors. “ The haunts and retreats frequented by the bishops of Kildare in the times of persecution, are still pointed out by the aged inhabitants of these marshes with a sort of pride, mingled with piety; and they say: There he administered confirmation; here he held an assembly of the clergy ; on that hill he ordained some young priests whom he sent to France, to Spain, or to Italy; and we remember, or we heard, how he lived in yonder old walla in common with the young priests whom he prepared for the mission. He sometimes left us with a staff in his hand, and, being absent months, we feared he would never return; but he always came back, until he closed his days amongst us. Oh! if you saw him ; he was like St. Patrick What think you must be my reflections at hearing of the danger and labors and virtues of these good men, and what a reproach to my own sloth and sensuality and pride The Bishop of Kildare to whom, in days of oppression, Dr Doyle so feelingly alludes, is the Most Rev. James O’Gallagher, translated from Raphoe to Kildare in 1737. “ Life, Times, and Correspondence of Doctor Doyle” (vol. I., p.p. 231, 314.) VIBTUES OF THE GOOD BISHOP, Humility is the mother of all the other Christian virtues. It has been specially taught by Christ : “Learn of Me,” says our Lord, “ because I am meek and humble of heart.” This beautiful virtue is seen in every act of Dr. O’Gallagher’s life, for in journeying through the mountains and glens of Donegal, or at his home in the bog of Allen, he seems never to have looked to his own personal comfort. He regards himself as the refuse of men, provided he gain souls to Christ. He bore, without any thought of His position, want, hardship, privations, insults. (2) His meekness amongst his people was re- markable, as some of the old inhabitants of Allen, told Dr. Doyle. He went out and in amongst them without Ixi an angry word, — affable to all, and comforting those who needed the aids of religion, and the solace or calm which kind advice from a father always infuses. (3) His poverty and (4) mortification. — These were the two most luxuriant plants in the garden of virtues which Dr. O’Gallagher cultivated. He was always in love with Christian poverty. Ho day passed in which he did not pay it special attention, — and Christian mortification, like myrrh, he carried about him, because its perfume was pleasing and attractive. — “ He ate daily the bread of tribulation and drank the waters of bitterness.” (5) His love of labor knew no limit. “ Ego operor,” said our Divine Lord, “et Pater mens operatur.” Like St. Liguori, who, in the Abruzzi, in the kingdom of Naples, flourished about that time, and like most of the saints, Bishop O’Gallagher was ever employed at some useful work, — preaching to the people, teaching the principles of our holy faith, making the episcopal visitation, offer- ing the holy Mass, reciting the divine office, confirming, ordaining ; or, in his own home, preparing young Levites for the mission, giving them lessons in Latin, Greek, history, scripture, theology. We are assured in the letter from the pen of Dr. Doyle, who only repeated the accounts which he had himself heard from the people ^ that O’Gallagher was never without some pious youths in the house with him, and that he was continuously preparing a few for the sacred ministry, mindful of the promise that, “ those who instruct others unto justice shall shine like stars for all eternity,” (6) Zeal — con- tinuous labor is the expression of zeal. We have seen how he labored — we can then judge of the zeal. This virtue is like fire, once ignited it must be active — it must Ixii burn and create a glow, a warmth and light. Hia literary labors were another happy result of this zeal. If he had not had zeal, he would not have undertaken this work at the time, which to one so far from the seat of printing and publishing was then a seeming impossi- bility. (7) The three divine virtues of Faith, Hope and Charity, were like spiritual lilies, ever fresh and flourish- ing in his soul. — “The just man lives by faith.” Dr. O’Gallagher’s whole life was one of faith, — a lively, active faith. He was one with whom the spiritual world, and the world of souls, the angels, God, were as if he had been in their company. Like Abraham, he walked before God, and bore in mind that he was always in the divine presence. (8) Hope was to him like some- thing at hand, — something that he appeared, as it were, to touch. The spiritual strength of the faith within him, made him feel assured in regard to things to come, like a fond child playing at the knees of his mother — fearing nothing, but knowing with St. Paul that, even in trials, “ to them that love God all things work together unto good, to such as according to His purpose are called to be saints.” (9) Zeal cannot exist without charity, — that is, love for God in the first place, and love for the souls of mankind. His charity was ever warm in the service of God and of his fellow man. (10) From all that one can glean in the writings he has left, and the life he lead amongst his people in Haphoe and Kildare, it is plain that the good Bishop walked, liked the saints of old, and all the faithful servants of God, with a lively sense of His presence, making an offering to the Divine Majesty of every thought, word, or act, and commending to His providence every thing Ixiii which he himself commenced to say or do. Apart, then, from the public prayers which holy Church requires her priests to pour forth, in each succeeding portion of the day, in one solemn chant of choral hymns and psalms, the Bishop fulfilled the behest of Christ, “ Semper orate” — always pray. (11) His life, not alone at morning, mid-day and evening, but at every moment, was a life of prayer. (12) His words and works were not, before God, commonplace or natural, but elevated to the super- natural by reason of the motives that influenced them and the object at which they aimed — the glory of God. In this way the good bishop’s life w as one of merit, apart from the great trials he otherwise endured for the sake of the the religion of Christ. Thus he heaped up abundant supernatural stores of merit in the kingdom of the blessed, to which God, the faithful re warder of the just, called him in May, 1751. His death was like his life — that promised to the good. His remains lie, without inscribed slab, without tomb, in the little cemetery of Allen. LIST OF BISHOPS IN ORDER OF SUCCESSION IN RAPHOE. FOUNDEB OF THE SEE OF BATH-BOTH, OB “fORT OF THE COTTAGES,” AS RAPHOE WAS CALLED. St. CoLUMBA founded an extensive monastery there before he set out for Iona. St. Adamnan (703, obiit) — Either an immediate sue- Ixiv cessor, or the celebrated abbot of Hy, erected the church of the monastery into a cathedral, and became its first bishop. — See Life of Columba by W". Keeves, D.D. Ware calls Adamnan EwTian, because Adamnan is pronounced in Gaelic Ey-u^nan. John Colgan invariably writes Adamnan as Bishop of Kaphoe. *‘We are not warranted, however, to conclude,” says Dr Moran, ‘Hhat this Adamnan was the cele- brated Abbot of Iona,” who was ninth in succession from Columba. It was hard for Mr Harris to find out the time St. Eunan flourished, as one distinct from Adamnaa. Ware says “I have met but two or three names of the successors of St. Eunan.” 813 — Maelduin, (son of Ceamiolad^, Bishop of Ratbot, died — Four Masters. 925 — Mael-brigide, or Brigidian, MacTornan ; Archbishop of Armagh, successor of St. Patrick, of Colum- kille, and of Adamnan, died — Four Masters. 930 — Maeduin MacKinealaid. 952 — Robahtac, successor of Columkille and Adamnan » died. 957 — ^NGUS O’Lapain. 1016 — Muikeadeac, son of Crichain. died after the 74th years of his age. 1057 — Robhartac, son of Feardomnac. 1160-1173 — Gilbert O’Caran. 1173-1175 — Murray O’Cofeey 1175-1198 — Maol-Iosa O’Dorigh. 1198-1203 — Gilla MacLiag O’Branan. 1203-1261 — Patrice: O’Scanlan 1261-1265 — John de Alneto. 1266-1275 — Carbrac O’Scoba. 1275-1299 — Florence O’Ferral. 1299-1306 — Thomas O’Rathain. 1306-1319 — Henry Mac-an-Crossain. 1309-1337 — Thomas O’Donnell. 1337-1366 — Patrice: Magonail. 1366-1397 — Richard MacCrossain. 1397-1397 — John, Cistercian Monk. 1397-1399 — Cornelius MacCarmic. 1399-1413 — ^Anthony, Bishop of Raphoe; 1413- 1414 — Robert Mubire, 1414- 1419 — John MacCarmic. 1420-1438, February, 27 — Laurence O’Galchor (Ware) 1438-1440 — John MacGilbeide (Ware.) 1440-1443 — Cornelius, OUigazioni (Brady). 1443-1484 — Laurence O’Galchor 1484-1514 — Menelaus MacCarmacan. 1514-1534 — Cornelius O’Cahan. 1534-1547 — Edmund O’Gallagher. 1547-1562 — Arthur O’Gallagher. 1562-!1589 — Donald MacCongail. He was consecrated at Eome. He was present at the Council of Trent in 1563. He was not present at the Armagh Provincial Council, 1568, being prevented by the war. In 1587, he was at the Ulster Provincial Council to promulgate the decrees of Trent. 1591-1611— Nial O’Boyle. Nial O’Boyle was appointed by the Pope in the Consistory of 9th August, 1591. — Vatican MSS. George Montgomery, first Protestant bishop, was not ap- pointed by the Crown till 1605. — Brady. ] 611-1 625 — The See governed by Vicars Apostolic. 1621-1625 — Dr John Culenan, Vicar, appointed by Brief. 1625-1661 — JohnO’Culenan,S.T.D. — 1 he former Vicar. 1661-1695 — Vicars. 1683 — Louis O’Gallagher, 1695-1721 — Fergus Laurence Lea, Bishop of Derry, obtained a grant of Eaphoe in administration on 18th February, 1695,-1719. 1719-1725— Vacant. 1725-1737— JAMES O’GALLAGHER. 1737-1749 — Daniel O’Gallagher. O’Gallagher died at the Dominican College, Sligo, and was there buried, 1749. 1750-1755 — Anthony O’Donnell. 1755-1759 — Nathanael O’Donnell. 1759-1782 — Philip O’Reilly, P.P., Drogheda, 1782-1802 — Anthony Coyle. ] 802-1820 — Peter MacLachlin (Laughlin) 1820-1861 — Patrick MacGettigan. 1861-1871 — Daniel MacGettigan. Coadjutor, 1856- 1861 ; translated to Armagh, 1871. 1871 — James MacDevitt. The foregoing list is taken from Harris’s Ware j Annals of the Kingdom of Ireland, and Brady’s Episcopal Succession. The reader can collate it with list given in the celebrated work — Series Episcoporum Ecclesise Catholicae quotquot, &c, á Beato Petro Apostolo, by P. Pius Bonifacius Gams, O.S.B., Eatisbonne, 1873. SERMONS IN IRISH GAELIC, BY THE lUk 5r. éidbilR, BISHOP OF RAPHOE, ■VTITH AN IDIOMATIC TRANSLATION IN ENGLISH, SERMON L AIR SUAS-ÍOGÉAIL AR M-BAN-TIGEARNA BEA^- NUIGTE, NA MAIGDIJSTE MUIRB, MAtAR DE. Ora jpro nobis pecccdoribuSj nunc et in horn mortis, jéirnen. Guid orainn ’naa b-peacacaiB anois agus air uair ar m-bais. Amén. Briatra an Spioraid Naoim le beul na éaglaise Catoi- licige agus a gnid ruinn de ’n Abe Maria. As an gearr urnaige so do gnid an eaglais Catoiliceac IS lontuigse daoiB, cad se mend an dotcuis a tá aicsí ann eidir-guide na Maigdine Muire. Co fada a’s Bideas an duine ann gleann na n-deor air an t-saogal bidean an colan ’g a meallad ; bid luideacán leatariiail aig Lucifer agus aig sluaigtiB Ifrinn ’nn a timcioll ; bid an uile riactanas agus easBa air, a d-taoB anama agus coirp. Ta'nquam leo rugiens circuit, quoerens quern devoret — 1 Feter, c. 5 . Teideann se tart mar leon ciocrac, feitead air neac do slugad. Ni tig le duine air bit le n-a misnig fein an claon agus an t-ain-gean Bideas aig an g-colain daonda do ’n t-saogal a maigistreact. Ni’l cuiiiact air talain Béarfad buaide air caitide an DiaBail gan grása Dé. Cad eile, a Criostaide, cad se mar geaBam* na grasa so a tá co riactanac so againn an leas ar n- anama do déanad ? Ni fid sinn féin, ann nac B-fuil nid air bit 6 nádiíir act ole agus ain-mian, sinn a Bideas go laeteamail brisead aiteanta Dé agus a dlige ; sinn a tá folluigte Ó ceann go cols le luBra an peacaid, a dul aig larraid na ngrasa so air an Te a m-bidmuid cur feirge go laetamail ? Oc ! cad eile, cia air a n-iarfamdid se mar sin ? Cia an carad, no an duine muintirda air a d-ta- Barfamuid agaid <5 rinneamar namaid d’ ar g-carad lon- muiDj-Criost ? A tá, a cairde, air an Maigdean Sluire : í r ■ r- «■ACULTV STNUT HIL . /I SERMON I. ON THE ASSUMPTION OF OUR BLESSED LADY, THE VIRGIN. MARY, MOTHER OF GOD. Ora jpro nohis peccatoribus nunc et in Jiora mortis. Amen. Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Words of the Holy Ghost, spoken by the mouth of the Catholic Church, and which constitutes a portion of the Ave Maria. From this short prayer, which the Catholic Church utters, it is quite easy for you to understand how great is the confidence which she has in the intercession of the Virgin Mother. As long as a person is in the vale of tears on this earth the flesh is continually drawing him to evil ; the devil and the hosts of infernal spirits daily lay snares for him: “ He goeth about like a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour.” — 1 Pet.., c. v. ver. 8. — Man is subject to many wants in regard to his soul and body. It is beyond the power of any person to obtain by his innate strength, mastery over the inclination and the fondness which man with his bodily passions has for the world. There is not on earth any power that can, without the grace of God, obtain victory over the devil. How, then, Christians, is it that we can obtain those graces which are so essentially necessary for us, in working out efEec- tively the spiritual advancement of our souls ? We, ourselves are not worthy of obtaining grace ; we in whom there is nothing which springs from the fountain of nature but evil and inordinate desire; we who are every day violating God’s commandments and His law ; we who are covered from head to foot with the leprosy of sin — how can we go and ask those graces of Him whom we are daily exciting to wrath ? Oh ! what else can be done ? Who is the friend or the relative to whom we can turn, since we have made an enemy of our dear friend, Christ ? Oh ! there is one, my friends, the Virgin 4 SERMONS OF THE Is air a laim. tá an diogaltas noc de tuiU ar b-peacaid lontugad uainn. Is trid lama Muire tig gac caBair agus comgnad 6 Í)ia cugainn. Is si an sriltán si, as a d-tig uisge tobar na n-grasa ’nn tuille cugainn. Is d’ a dimim so orduigeas an Eaglais duinn an urnaige sdd a rad go minic . — Ora pro nohis, &c, Leigamuid a leaBar na rigte go n-deacaid an Bain- ngan Betsabé ’g larraid atciiinge air a Mac Solam, mac DaiBid. ’Nuair a cualaid an ng si Beit a’ teact, cuaid ann a áracais go luat-gáireac, rinne umlugad agus onóir di, agus cuir air a deas-láiin ann a cataoir riogda si; duBairt leisi, gac nid a tastaid uaisi larraid go dána agus nac n- diilltdcad se fern aon nid airsi a d’ larrfad si. Pete mater mea^ non enimfas est, ut avertam faciem tuam (3 Regum., c. 2). larr a liiatair, dir m' B-fuil se ceart go g-cuirfinn mdisiam air do gnuis. Mar an g-cdadna tar eis Muire Bain-Tigearna caitead a tdarma air an t-saogal so, agus gur mian le n-a Aon Mac, a breit cuige fdin go partas, tainic se ann a áracais, agus sluagta partais ’nn aonfeact leis;'d’ árduig sesi eidir corp agus anam go flaiteaiiinas ; do cuir Criost air a deas-laim ’nn a suide si ; tug se di an uile cumact air neam agus air talam faoi se fdm ; do geall di nac B-fuil atcuinge air bit noc d’ larrfad nac B-£uigfead si. Pete mater, &c. Is air an ardugad longantac rinnead air Muire go par- tas, agus air na mjr grasa a dortas si ann uas orainn is mian liom tráct an diii tar dis mo coinrad ruinn an a di punc. Arduigead Muire go partas air modiongantac eugsamail; sin an ceud punc. Bid si ’nn a éidirguidteoir agus ’nna mnaoi impide eidir sinn-ne agus a aon Mac ; sin an dara punc. larramuid, &c. 5 MOST BEV. EB. GALLAGEEB Mary. It Í8 in her hands is placed the power of avert- ing from us the chastisement which our sins deserve. It is through Mary’s hands every aid and assistance comes to us from God. She is the stream out of which flow in torrents to us the waters of the fountain of grace. It is for this reason the Church enjoins on us to repeat that prayer frequently — “ Ora pro nobis,” &c. We read in the Book of Kings that Bethsabee went to ask a favor of her son Solomon, son of David. When the king had learned that she was coming, he went with great gladness to meet her ; he paid her obeisance and honor, and placed her at his right hand on a royal throne, and desired her to ask with confidence every re- quest she wanted to make, and that he would not refuse her anything which she would ask. Ask, oh, my mother, for it is not right that I should turn thy face from me without being satisfied. Mary, the Queen-mother of Jesus, spent her term in like manner in this world. And her only son, desirous that she should be along with Himself in Paradise, came on the occasion of her Assumption, accompanied by all the hosts of Heaven to meet her. Her Divine Son raised her, both body and soul, up to Heaven. Christ put her sitting at His right hand, and He gave to her, next in order after Himself, all power in heaven and on earth. He promised that there is no request she would ask that she should not obtain. It is on the wonderful exaltation to Paradise that took place in regard to Mary ; and again on the great graces which she pours down on us I purpose this day to treat ; and for this purpose I divide the subject of the discourse into two points : The exaltation of Mary to the region of Paradise was wonderful and extraordinary — that is the first point ; she is intercessor and queen advocate standing between us and her only son — that is the second point. Let us ask of God light and grace, &c., &c. 6 SEBMONS OF TEE ÁD OEUD ÍUNC. An uair a tig bain-rigan air bit go nnad cum rigacta no cum catrac, bi3 speis agus ddil aig an uile duine si a feicsint ; teid]an t-uasal agus an t-isiol, an lag agus an laidir, an boct agus an saidBir, ’nna aracais agus ’g a fáiltugad ; ni Bideann nid air bit le feicsint act féastaid ’g a g-caitead ; fionta ’g a n-dórtad, gunnaid móra ’g a Bgaoilead ; emit agus orgain ’g a seinm ; brontanais m(5r- luaic ’g a b-pronnad do ’n Bain-prionsa, ann aon focal an uile cineál solomainn agus suBailce gnitear le linn Prionsa no bam-prionsa téact a glacad seilB air an g-coróm. So an nid gnitear, a deirim, leis na prionsaid talniaid ; act ni fiii airiugad, no innisin, aon nid d’ a meud is feidir a d^anad air talam, a B-farras na solamainne agus an t- suBailce a taisbeanad a b-partas le linn bain-rigne flai- teaihnais a dul a glacad seilB air coróin na gloire. Tainic na naoi n-oird ainglid ’nna arracais, agus siad aig seinm aBran Binne agus cantici molta. Tainic, mar an g-ceadna ’nna arracais na faide, na Patriarca agus na ápstoil naoiih agus ban-naoirii partais go lomlán. Bi partas go úile air aon, co-seinm ceolta failte agus molta roini an m-bain-rigin Muire. Bud leor an meud so, dar leaf, a Criostaid d’ on(jir a d^anad fa coriiair cráatilir air bit o Dia ’nuas, act nior ihdr le Criost nid bud mó ’na so a déanad d’ a Mat air : Cuaid se Mn ’nna arracais, do cuir se cor(5in na gloire air a ceann, gaete agus dealrad na gloire ann a gmilis. Glac se a matair go soilBir, suBailceac ; tug leis air laiiii SI a B-fiadnuise an atar siorruide, agus a duBairt leis : so, ’At air, an Bean a tog Tusa o’n t-siorruideact ann a Beit ’nn a Matair agam-sa ; so an Bean a rinne a riaiii mo toil MOST REV. LB. GALLAGHER. 7 THE FIRST POINT. When a Queen comes for the first time to a realm or to a city, every person feels a. desire and a longing to see her ; the lowly and the noble, the weak, and the strong ; the poor and the rich, go forth to meet her and to bid her welcome; nothing is to be seen but feasting and rejoicings; wines poured out in abundance ; cannons firing salutes ; harps and organs giving out melodious strains ; gifts and presents of great value bestowed on the princess, — in a word, every kind of festivity and of pleasurable' joy is indulged in on the occasion of either a prince or a princess coming to take possession of the crown. This is what takes place, I say, in regard to princes of this world. But anything — even the most superb and solemn display which can be performed on earth — is not worth counting, or worth being narrated, in comparison with the grand solemnization, and exuberance of joy which was felt in the abode of the blessed on the occasion of the Queen of Heaven entering to take possession of the crown of glory. The nine orders of angels came out to meet her, singing as they came, harmonious songs and canticles of praise. The prophets in like manner came out to meet her. The patriarchs, too, and those apostles who had been before her ; and all the saints, men and women, of that heavenly home came forth to bid her welcome. The whole court of heaven were of one acclaim in chanting songs of joy and welcome, in sounding the praises of Mary, Queen of Paradise. You will say, dear Christians, all that, in your opinion was quite enough to give expression to the amount of honor which should be bestowed in hailing the presence of any creature who, as such, is inferior to God. But Christ did not deem it enough. He did still more than’all this for his mother. He himself went forth to meet her ; He put the crown of glory on her head ; rays and the effulgence of glory, the while, beaming from her coun- tenance. With exultant joy and with delight He received 8 SEBMONS OF TEE agus nár claon a riam do dlige a Brisead ; so an Bean Bi ’nna sompla agus ’nna patriin lonracais agus cneastacta aig fearaiB agus aig mnaiB an domain. De Brig, air an t-Atair siorruide, a Muire, go n-dear- naid tu mo toil-se air an t-saogal, agus nár truaillid Tu a riam do coinsias le briidar air bit peacaid, Beirim duit, mar prontanas, agus mar luac saotair a Beit rannpáir- teac aun mo cumact. Maisead, Beirim-se duit, air an Mac, a Beit do maigistreás air mo tr»5caire. Beirim-se duit, mar an g-ceadna, air an Spiorad naom, a Beit rann-pairteac ann mo crionact agus ann mo maiteas. Orduigmuid duit, 6 ’n dill amac a Beit, do Bam-rigin os cionn na n-aingeal agus na n-ard-aingeal, ds cionn naom agus ban-naom. Partais go lomlán . — Exaltata est sancta Dei genitrix super choros Angelorum ad celestia regna. Arduigead naom matair De os cionn coisir na n-aingeal go rigeact flai- teamnais.” O Muire, a Bain-rigin na cruinne, is m(5r an ceim so agus an ondir a fuair tu os cionn naom an domain, act ni b-fuains nid nár B’ fiu tu. Molaim tu 6 mo croide, agus 6 mo toil. Is deimin gur fior an nid duBairt Elisabet, matair Eoin baiste, leat — gur beannuigte tu tar na mnaiB. Lucas, c. l,v. 42. M longnad liom, a cairde, go b’ feidir le anam gldrmar Muire SI £éin d’ árdugad, air silead suile o’n talam go Nearii, de Brig gur feidir le gac Spiorad ole agus mait dul ann geárr aimsir <5 cric go cric, agus 6 cearn de’n doman go soice an ceirn eile. Act is longnad liom cad se mar b’ feidir leis an g-corpán cré Bi timcioll an anama so, dul suas an bealac cuihang, cruaid gan gleus lomcair. Is feasac siB nac ardugad a gnideas an nid a Bideas trom, act islugad agus tuiteam cum taliiian. Cad eile, cad se an mod air a n-deacaid an colann daonna dd Muire o’n MOST BEV. J)B. GALLAGEEB. 9 His mother. He took her by the hand to the presence of the Eternal Father and said to Him : “ This is the woman, 0 Father, whom yon selected from all eternity to be my mother; this is the woman who always performed my will, and who never yet inclined in the least to vio- late your law ; this is the woman who has been an ex- ample and a pattern of chastity and of honesty to all men and women of the world.” “ Whereas, 0 Mary,” said the Eternal Father, ‘‘ that you have, while on earth, performed my will, and that you never defiled your conscience with any stain of sin, I confer on you as a present and as a reward to have a share in my power.” “ Well, I impart to you,” said tho Son, ‘‘ the gift of being the dispensing agent of my mercy. I bestow, in like manner, on you, said the Holy Ghost, to be a sharer in my wisdom and in my goodness. We ordain in your favor that you be, from this day forward, queen above angels and archangels — above all men and women who are saints in the Court of Paradise^ The holy mother of God was raised above the choirs of angels to the regal throne in heaven. O Mary, Queen of creation, great, indeed, is the dignity and the honor you have obtained — high above the saints of the world; but you have not obtained anything of which you were not worthy. I praise you from my heart and from my will. That is, indeed, true, which Eliza- beth, mother of John the Baptist, said to you — that “ thou art blessed above women” (Luke, c. i, v. A3.) It does not, dear friends, seem wonderful to me that the soul of Mary, radiant with glory, was able to raise itself in the twinkling of an eye from earth aloft to heaven, because every spiritual being, good and bad, has inherent power of speeding, in a short interval, from clime to clime, and from one region of space even to any other. But it does seem to me wonderful how it was that the earthly body which encased that soul was B 10 SERMONS OF THE talam go Pártas ? Maiseal a Criostaide loracaral an corp gldrmar so a g-cdiste dr-Buile, drnailte le cloca uaisle agus peurlaid mur-costasaca. Act cad se an t-amnd, a iheasas sib, d’a n-dearnad an cuiste so ? No cad siad na eacraid bi ’g a tarraing ? A tá a Criostaide deag-oibreaca agus deag-gnioiiiara Muire. So fein an t-amud d’a n- dearnad an cdiste lid, so na peurlaid, so no cloca uaisle cuir máise agus áille air an g-cdiste ud ; so an gleus lom- cair, so na sgiatain a árduigeas gac naoih go geataid Par- tais. Air an taob eile gac duine malluigte, nac gnideann Ion no stdr de na deag-gniomarta air an t-saogal so, ’n áit árdugad suas se tuitim sios, -gnid se le trom-ualac a peacaid go fior-ioctarlfrinn. Nibideann atrugad de cdiste aige, act cuiste teintid agus diabail Ifrinn ’g a tarraing. — Ignis et sulphur et spiritus procellarum pars calicis eorum (Psal. 10, 7). Tuigid sib anois, a Cairde, cad se an cineal cuiste ann ar lomcarad corp glormar Muire, mar do bi a deagoibreaca agus a deig-gm'omarta. Act ni muidd go d-tuigeann sib’ cad siad na éacraid bi ’g a tarraing ? Siad eacraid a br tarraing an cuiste ud, na subailcid neanida bi aig Muire ; agus air son go raib na úile cineal subáilcid annti a b’ feidir a belt a g-creatiir daonna air bit, air riieud go m-b’ ieidir a rád leite gur raib si ’nn a stur-ciste Ian d’ lonn- racas, de glaine coinsiais agus de crabad; gidead bi ceitre priom-subailcid aici a g-cdim do-inniste, mar a bi uiiilact, geanmnaideact, cartanact agus foigid. Is ur-forus, dar leat, a Criostaide, Muire Bain-Tigearna a molad, gidead cia b’ se a dearcfad air an g-cas go grinn IS nid se a tá do-deanta docamlac. Ma dearcamuid air Muire taob a colna, forus gan amrus, a molad, de brig nac b-fuil sgeim, ailne, no deise d’a b’ feidir nac fuair si ó’n MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. 11 able, without any assistance and without any mode of conveyance, to go up that narrow, difficult way which leads to Paradise. You are aware that the property of a heavy body is not to ascend, but rather to descend to the earth. How then did it happen ? and hoAV is it that the human body of Mary went up from earth to Paradise ? Well, dear Christians, this glorious body was borne aloft in a chariot burnished with gold, orna- mented with diamonds and precious pearls. But what, think you, was the wood of which this coach was fashioned ? Or, what kind of horses were yoked to draw it to Heaven ? Well, I tell 3^ou, they were the good works and the virtuous deeds of Mary. These were the very wood of which that coach was fashioned ; these the pearls and the diamonds which added grace and beauty to that costly coach ; these constituted the motive power in carrying her heavenward ; these are the wings which enable every saint to soar to the gates of Paradise. And it happens, on the other hand, that every wicked man who lays in no provision or store of good works while he is in this world does not go up to Heaven, but rather falls down by the heavy weight of his sins to the depths of Hell. He has no mode of conveyance, no coach, but a coach of fire, and the devils of Hell dragging him downward. How, my friends, you understand what kind of chariot that was in which the glorified body of Mary was carried ; it was composed of her good works and virtu- ous deeds. But it is not likely that you understand what were the steeds that drew the chariot ? Well, the steeds which drew the chariot are the heavenly virtues which Mary possessed. And although there were found within her all kinds of virtues that it is impossible for any human creature in the world to possess, and even to such a degree and in such a measure, that we are em- powered to say in truth of her, that she was a treasury full of the virtues of chastity, purity of conscience and 12 SEBMOXS OF THE At air SioiTBid, an uair a crutuig Se si, agus do tog k ann a Beit ’nna mat air aig a Mac . — Tota ]pulcra es, arnica mec6 (Cant 4, 7). Ma dearcamuid air Ílaire taoB a anama, is deimin go B-£uair si oiread tiodlacaid agus grasa 6 n-a Aon Mac anns an momeint do glac Se colann fa n-a broinn, agus IS feidir le creator air bit a glacad, no a Beit aige. — Tania gratia Virgini a Eeo data esb quantum uni puree creaturce dari possibile esset ; Sanctus Eernardus (Serm. 65.) A ta mar sin, a Criostaide na grasta agus na tiod- lacaid a fuair Muire a d-taoB anama agus coirp co eugsa- mail, CO lomadaiiiail sin, air mod nac feidir le inntleact daonna air bit a d-tuigsin, no le teanga air bit a luad mar IS cóir — Laudes Mar ice quis enarrahit f Da g-cuirfinn roiiiaim, a Cr/ostaide, Muire Éain-Tigearna a iholad taoB a úmlacta, geaBfaid me an lomad naom agus ban-naoih a Bi uiiial, a d’ uirislig siad fein co iliór sin lonnos go saoilfead nac raiB meas daonna aca air siad fein air coir air bit . — Eos stulti propter Christum. (1 Cor. 4, 18.) Act ’nn a deig so agus uile, nior b’ feidir leo táact ann n-gioBair uiiilacta Muire. Do lean an liiatair sompla a Mic. D’ uir-islig se se-fein co mur sin, gur glac se foirm sglaBaid air an t-saogal, agus gur fullaing se bas sgannalac na croice . — Factus est obediens useque ad mortem, mortem autem criicis (Fhilip 2, 8) . An uair a fuair si d Beul an aingil gairm bain-rigine air doman uile, se du- bairt SI go ur-iseal, uiiial, ’nac raiB annti act sglaBaid, no bain-feadma an Tigearna — Ecce Ancilla Domini. (Luc. 1, 38). De lean Muire an prfoin-leigean dd a teagastar a scoil Croist, mar atá, an te le ’ar liiian se fdin d’ ardugad a b-partas go g-caitfid se se fein d’ uir-isliugad air an t- saogal so . — Qai ic liumiliat cxalialntur (Matt. 23, 12). MOST BEV. BB. GALLAGHEB. 13 ^iety ; yet there were four leading virtues enriching the soul to such a degree that no one can describe, and these were — humility, chastity, charity, and patience. In your opinion, dear Christians, it is, doubtless, easy to praise Mary, the Queen-Mother. However, any person who looks closely to the subject of pronouncing her praises will find it difficult and nigh impossible to be done. If we regard Mary in relation to her body, it is assur- edly no difficult task to praise her, because there is no grace, beauty, or comeliness with which it is possible for a human body to be adorned that was not bestowed on her by the Eternal Father, when he created her and selected her to be the mother of His Son. If we regard Mary in relation to her soul, it is a fact that she was enriched by her only son at the moment in which He assumed human nature in her chaste womb, with such an amount of gifts and graces as it is possible for a created being to receive or to possess. The graces and the gifts, dear Christians, which Mary received in relation to her soul and to her body were, then, so extraordinary and so abundant, even to that degree that the mind of man is incapable of compre- hending them, or the tongue of man to depict them, in terms fit to convey an adequate idea of them. If I should, dearH-beloved Christians, propose to sound the praises of The Queen-Mother, Mary, on the head of her humility, I will find a number of sainted men and women who also were humble ; who lowered themselves to that degree that one might suppose they had no respect at all for themselves . — Nos stulti propter Christum (1 Cor. 4, 10). We are reputed fools for Christ’s sake. But, after all, they could not, even so, come within degrees of the humility of Mary. The mother followed the example of her son. He lowered Himself to that extent that He assumed the form of a slave in this world, and endured the disgraceful death of the Cross On the occasion when she received from the 14 SERMONS OF THE D’ uir-islig si-se, si feiii co mor sin faoi cosa an t-saogail,— agus d’a druim so árduigead si ann a áite is airde faoi an Trionoid a b-Partas. — Eocaltata est sancla Dei genitrix super clioros Angelorum. A Mna uaiBreaca brudaiiila an t-saogail so, nac n-gla- cann spid no tarcuisne d neac a riiaitreann ; sib-se le ar mian tus snide agus toiseaó bealaig ann gai cdisir, agus ann gac co-cruinnugad, is direac glacas siB bealac contarda do leigean Croist agus Muire. Agus d’a brig gur mian lib sib fein d’ árdugad os cionn an domain ísleoótar sib faoi cTuba Diabal ann Ifrionn. Qui se exaltat liumilia- bitur (Malt. 23^. Cur a g-cas, a Criostaide, go molfainn Muire trid a geanmnaideact agus a gloinne coinsiais, gabfaid me ann, fo ’n am edadna, an lomad maigdean, nar truaillig riani a g-colan le comuisg fir air bit ; act an b-£acas, no an g- cualas a riani bean air bit ’nn a mat air agus ’nna maig- dean ann aoinfeact mar do bi Muire. — Sancta mater et intact ii Virgo. Ma molaim Muire trid a cartanact, caitfid me an lomad eile do liiolad aig a raib grád an-iiidr air Dia. Ldigmuid air an lomad a tug cill do ’n t-saogal; a pronn a maoin agus a substaint air boctaib De, agus sin uile mar geall air Dia. O ni raib act fuar-grád ann aon nid de so, a barraiii an grada eagsaiiila a bi aig Muire air a Crutuigteoir. Bi croide mar furndis air lasad le lomad grid agus gean air Criost. — Quia amove lanyueo (Gant. 2, 5). Ma dearcaim air an b-foigid a bi aig Muire, cidfid me, mar an g-edadna, an lomad mairtirid — mna agus fir — a ceusad agus a crocad; do Idsgad air greidilib, bruigte a g-coirib ; tarraingfce eidir eairaid, a d’ fulaing an uile cineal pianta go_ foigideac, fonnmar mar geall air Í)ia. MOST BJEV. on. GALLAGEEB. 15 mouth of the angel the* title of Queen of the world, she only replied with lowliness and humility of herself, that she was nothing more than the slave and the hand- maid of the Lord. Mary practised that lesson which is the first taught in the school of Christ, that he who wishes to make sure of Paradise must, in this world ground himself well in humility. She lowered herself so exceedingly below, as it were, the very feet of all in this world that thereby she was after- wards elevated to the position which in Paradise is the highest — next to the Trinity. You, ladies, living in the world, you who are so overbearing, you who cannot endure from any one living the lightest slight, the least depreciation; you who have an eye to the first seat and to the leading place at every re-union and at every meeting — you, I say, are pursuing the path directly opposite to that just pointed out in the lesson which Jesus and Mary have taught. And since you are with care aiming at your own exal- ation, in order to be in life above every one of the world, so you shall one day be humbled in hell beneath the claws of devils. Suppose, dear Christians, that I should sound the praises of Mary on account of her virginity and purity of conscience, I find other virgins who led very chaste lives ; but who ever saw or who ever heard of any woman that was a virgin and at the same time a mother? Put such was Mary. If I praise Mary on account of her charity, I must needs praise many others who cherished an ardent love for God. We read of numbers of persons who turned their backs on the world, who bestowed their wealth and all their worldly means upon the poor of Christ, and that wholly on account of Him. How, in all this, the manifestation of love was cold when compared with the love above all comparison — the seraphic love which Mary entertained for her Creator. Her heart was like a furraca 16 SEBMONS OF THE 0Ó a Criostaide, sin agus a mile oiread da B-£ulangocad siad, ni B-fuil act sugrad, Barram na seact soigide mine a cuaid trid croide Muire, na seact dolais a d’ fulaing si fo a aon Mac Criost . — Et tuam ijpsius animam pertransibit gladius (Luc. 2, 25). Oc a Bainrigin na n-aingeal da m-beidead m’ intleact- sa laidir, no taBact ann mo BriataraiB, le a b’ feidir liom do saBailcid neamda cur sios mar is coir, ni Beidinn coidce tuirseac do do molad. Act de Brig gnr nid se a saruigeas mo lag-céndfaid, glacaim anois mo cead leat, nios faide, 'ná solus beag taBairt do ’n b-pobul air na mór-grásta Beir tu gan cuimse do gac aon a cuireas a dotcus annat. Nid air ar geall me tract anns an dara pome de mo comrad. AN DARA POINC. An uair a tainic an Prionsa cumactac Constantin ann a Beit ’nn a Impire air na Románaig ; cuir se fios gan moill air a mat air Helen ; tug se suas fo n-a cuiiiact gac saidBrios agus gac lonmiis a Bi ann a dir-ciste ; tug se cead di gac 6r agus gac airgead a Bi ann, a pronnad réir a tola. ’Náit a raiB Impire talmaid co muirneac ondrac so, os comair a matar, an measaun siB gur raiB Impire an domain, Criost, nios diot-uriila le n-a matair Muire ? O m raiB, a Criostaide. Co luat agus cuir se coruin na gloire air a ceann a B-flaiteas, rigne se maigistreas di air loniiius neamda na trucaire, lonnos gur b’ feidir leite grasa SEBMONS OF THE 17 all in flames with ardent love and affection for Christ. Next, in respect to the patience of Mary ; If I should speak of it, I shall, in like manner, see numberless martyrs — men and women — who were tortured and cru- cified ; who were roasted on gridirons, boiled in cauldrons, or drawn by horses to pieces ; who bore with patience, nay with joy, all these excruciating tortures for the sake of God. But, oh ! my brethren, these and thousands of other trials which have been suffered were merely plea- sant pastime compared with the seven arrows of pain which pierced the heart of Mary — namely, the seven dolors which she endured for the sake of her own beloved son, Christ. Oh ! Queen of angels, were my intellect sufficiently powerful, and had my words force by which I might be en- abled to describe in full thy heavenly virtues, I should ne'ver be tired praising thee. But since this is a matter which lies beyond my feeble ability, I now take leave of this view of the subject regarding thee, wishing only to throw, for the sake of the people, some light on the subject which regards the great graces which thou art wont to bestow without stint or interest on those who place their hope in thee. This view I promised to portray in the second part of my discourse. SECOND PART. When the powerful prince Constantine became Em- peror of the Eoman people, he sent without delay for his mother Helen ; he placed at her disposal all the riches and all the wealth that were in his treasury ; he gave her leave to dispose, as best she list, all the gold and silver she found therein amassed. Now, whereas an earthly emperor was so fond of, and so respectful to his mother, do you imagine that the sovereign Lord of the universe was less wanting in humble and respectful re- gards to His mother Mary ? Oh ! no dear Christians. As soon as He had placed the crown of glory on her head c 18 MOST TíEV. JOB. GALLAGBEÉ. na áitrige taBairt do na peacaigiB, slainte do luct an tinnis,- solas do luct an ddbróin ; coBair do luct an riactanais, agus maudugad grasa do na fireuniB. — -Sancta Maria Succurre MiseriSy d:c. A tá da tobar aig Muire as a sileann si na mór tiod- lacaid a Beir si do ’n doman, mar a tá an dá cic cruinne geala, a diul Cnost ’nn a leanB. — Beatus venter qui te joort- 'avit, et uhera quce suxisti. — Luc. 10, 27. As an g-cic dels Beir SI bainne na ngrasa ’nn a tuiltlB do na fireuiniB ; agus as an g-cic clit rannaid si saidBrios na trdcaire air na peacaigiB. ^Si an CÍOC deas do diul na aitreaca naomta a tainic roihamn mar Bi San Seorom, San AiBistin, San Bernard, San Dominic, San Proinsias, agus gac naoiii eile a Bi ann o tus an t-saogail. Is de druim an cráBaid agus an co- ihóra do Bi aca faoi comair Muire árdaigead slad ann a m- beit ’nn a reultaiB soilseaca, gl(5rihara a b-partas. As an cic eile silid Muire an trócaire ’ann a tonntaiB air na pea- caigiB, agus d’ a Brig so, ni’l peacac air bit d’a liieud agus' d’a glonmiiaire coirte, ma Beir se agaid air Muire, nac B-fuigfid furtact agus trócaire.— -lZa?’ict mater gratioe et omsericordice. Láigmuid air an lomad Bi reid ligte a n-innid a reubad agus droc-Bas a taBairt ddiB fein as nid air a geallas tract anns an dara punc de mo coiiirad. An dara punc. Ni gan adBar a cuireas an Scnptiur Criost a g-cosamlact, air an la sin, le treudaid. Oir aiiiail agus do deaiuigeas an treudaid, a n-deire an lae, na caoire 6 na mionnáin Bi a g-cuideact a cede air Bead an lae, agus cuireas a g-crd air leit siad ; mar an g-ceadna ann deire an t-saogail so, ddanfas Criost, an treudaid firinneac a tug a anam air son a trdid, dealdcaid se na firdin 6 ’n droing damanta, agus cuirM se siad sud air a deas-laim, agus siad so air a laiih cld : — Separabit eos ah invicem et statuet oves qiiidem a dextris suis hodxs autem a sinistris (Matt. 25, 32.) Anns an t-saogal so, go rn'r-mor, dingeann gac nid go seunmar, sona, leis an drong damanta ; ann áit sin, teag- mann a contrarda do na firdiniB. Onuruigeann an saogal an muintir bud cBir a tarcuisnead, agus tarcuisnigeann an saogal an muintir bud cuir d’ onorugad. Bideann cean- nas agus uactaranact aig an b-peacac, bideann se air meisge le taitneam agus le solas an t-saogail so, an t-am Bideas an droug craiBteac a m-boctaineact agus a miiiieas ; air mdd gur bud k an lam deas, a Bideas aig na peacaigiB, agus an láiii c-le aig na firdiniB. Act ni si so an Bail a Beideas air na gnatuigiB an la sud. Deanfaid an Brei- SEBMONS OF TEE 45 love of God, and with real hatred for sin, will quench the burning flames, will cool the boiling cauldrons, will blunt the weapons, will change the countenance of Jesus from being fierce and enraged, to be cheerful and amiable, and it will obtain for us to go on the right hand of the Sovereign King in that strict separation which he will make between the elect and the sinners — a point which I promised to treat of in the second part of my dis- course. Second Part — It is not without reason the Scripture compares Jesus Christ, on that day, to a shepherd ; for, as the shepherd, at the close of the day, segregates the sheep and the goats that were together all day, and puts them in a separate fold, in like manner, at the close of this world, will Jesus Christ, the true shepherd who has laid down his life for his flock, act : the sheep. His elect. He will separate from the damned, and the elect He will place at his right hand, and the others at his left. In this world, things commonly succeed and prosper with the wicked, whilst the righteous experience quite the contrary. The world honours those whom it ought to despise, and despises those whom it ought to honour ; dominion and superiority fall to the lot of the sinner, who is perpetually inebriated with the comforts and pleasures of this life ; whilst the devout are steeped in poverty and regarded with contempt in this life, so much BO that the reprobates seem to have the right-hand side and the elect the left. But this will not be the state of things on that day. This Judge will make all right ac- cording to equity and reality in the final separation. The faithful he will place at His right hand, and on His left the sinners. O ! dear Christians, how many yells and shrieks, groans and sighs, will be heard from the damned at this separa- tion, when they shall see themselves on that day parted from their friends, and what is far worse, from God, and that not for a day, or a month, or for three months, or 46 SERMONS OF THE team fior-ceart so sgarad ; fagfaid sé na firein air deas- lairn, agus na peacaige air an láiih clé. — Separdbit eos db invicem, &c. Oc, a Criostaid ! cad se liact eiih agns sgread agus osna cluinfear 6 ’n droing damanta anns an dealugad so, ’n uair do cidfid siad siad fein sgarta an lá sin 6 n-a n- daomiB muintiorda, agus 6 Dia is measa ddiB, ni la, nf mi, no raite, ni bliadain, act co fada a’s Beideas Dia ’nn a Dia, le saogal na saogal ! 0, lae na feirge, agus na n-uatBas ! 0, Breiteamnais criteaglaig ! 0, Breiteim cruadálaig, deanfas an dealugad so — Separdbit eos, &c. Aon focal amain, a Criostaid, air son an lomlain • taiBsig duit fein anois go B-fuil tii faoi coisde biis ; go B-fuil an seisiun ’nn a suide, agus an coisde ’g a togad, do coir agus do diotáil ’g á sgrioB an d’ agaid ! 0 ! cad se an baspus agus an scanrad Beideas ort roim an m-breiteam, cad se an ditcoll de'anfas tu, an coisde a Beit faBrac duit ? Ni spárálfaid tu 6r no airgead, do maoin no do substaint air luct dlige ann do cás d’ aidneasugad ? Ni deanfa gau amras. Maisead, ni’l ann so act teagmais is féidir teag- mail do duine, no gan a teagiiiail. Act tá se cinnte lan- dearBta go d-tioc£aid gac aon agaiB an la deigionac ann a Breiteamnas, a B-fiadnuise barra na Triundide. Ni B-fuil peacad marBta dá n-deárnaid siB nac m-bdid ’nn a diotiil, no ann a coir bais ann Bur n-agaid, agus má ’s troime le Bur g-coirtiB ’na le Bur n-deag-gniomartaiB nac B-fuil imteact agaiB 6 Boirb-teintiB Ifrinn. Maisead, a crios- taid, an ditcioll ceadna deanfa ann do corpan a sáBáil air an m-bas, agus air scanal saogalta, de'an se anois ann d’ anam a sáBail air scanal sioruide agus air coiridiB Ifrinn. An deor agus an t-osna ddanfa le eagla roiiii an m-brei- team saogalta siid, dean siad anois roim an m-breiteam borb Slid, losa Criost. Ni larrfaid luct dlige Partais <5r MOST BJSV. m. OALLAGHEE. 47 for a year, but whilst God is God — for ever and ever. 0 ! day of wrath and terrors — 0 ! awful judgment — 0 ! inexorable Judge, who art to make this separation. Christians, one word for all : represent to yourself that you are now going to be tried for your life, that the assizes have come, that the jury is empanelled, your crime and indictment for felony being written against you — 0 ! in what ghostly terror, in what fright wouldst thou not be before the judge ! what effort would you not make to have the verdict in your favour ! Would you spare gold or silver, wealth or property on lawyers, that they might plead your cause ? Surely not. Why then, this is but a civil cause, which may be pleaded against you, or it may not. But it is most certain, most sure, that every one of you shall come on the last day for judgment to the bar of justice before the tribunal of the Trinity. There is not a sin you have committed but will be a crime, and cause a verdict of death against you ; and if your iniquity outweigh your good works, you shall have no escape from the fierce flames of hell. 0 ! dear Christians, the same pains then you would take to save your body from death and worldly disgrace take the same now to save your soul from everlasting scorn and from the furnaces of hell. The tear which you would shed and the sigh you would heave with fear before that worldly judge, shed that tear and heave that sigh now before the unbending Judge, Jesus Christ. The lawyers of heaven who will plead for you on that day, will ask neither gold nor silver for their trouble ; nothing but a 48 MOST BEV. BE. GALLAQEEB. no airgead ort air son a saotair; act deag-croide deag-rán, agu3 an aitrige os cionn gac nid, a déanfas aidneaa air do son an lá slid. So an duais Báarfas air INIuire, air na ApstoiliB agus air Naom, Beit ’nn a Inct dlige a aidnea- BÓcas air do son. D^an Idn agus stdr de na deag-gnio- martaiB anois, agus arddcaid siad tu air deas-Mim Criost an la slid — nid, a tá me aig larraid daoiB-se agus dam féin — Ann ainm an Atar, agus an Mic, agus an Spioraid Naoim. Amén. AN TRIMAD SEANMOIR. Go B-fuil se Eiactanac Grád a taBairt d’ ar NamaidiB. Ego autem dico vohis diligite inimicos vestros. — Deirim- Be liB-se grád a Beit agaiB air Bur námaidiB — Briatra Criost aig Mata anns an 6 c., 44 v. Má glacaimse ann dm a laim minugad daoiB-se, a cairde go B-fuil d’ oibliogaid agus d’ ualac oraiB faoi páin Bur n-damnuigté, grád do Beit agaiB air Bur namaidiB, agus maiteacas do taBairt ddiB, dear f aid siB liom, gan amras, an nid c^adna duBairt na ludaigte le Criost, an uair a dearBuig se doiB, nac raiB ann dan slanugad duiB, no an glóir sioruide d’ fagail, actmuna n-itfead siad a cuidfeola agus muna n-olfad siad a cuid fola, gur nid dod^anta se BO, gur nid se a tá ann agaid nádiíire — Bums est Me sermo : IS cruaid an focal sé so — Joannes 6 c., 61 v. Déarfaid biB liom, gan amrás, gur nid do-déanta, grad a Beit againn SEBMONS OF THE 49 good heart, a good resolution, and above all, penance* Penance will plead best for you on that day. These are the fees that will cause the Blessed Virgin, the apostles, and all the saints to plead in your behalf. Lay up a store and treasure of good works now, and they will exalt you on the last day to the right hand of Jesus Christ, which is a blessing I wish you all. In -the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. SERMON III. THAT IT IS NECESSARY TO LOVE OUR ENEMIES. Ego autem dico vohls diligite inimicos vestros . — But I say to you, love your enemies — Words of Christ from St. Matthew, 5 c., 44 v. If I take in hands to-day to explain to you, my friends, that an obligation and a bounden duty are imposed on you under pain of being damned to love your enemies and to forgive them, you will, doubtless say to me, the same thing that the Jews said in reply to Christ, when He assured them that they could not, in the order of Provi- dence, obtain salvation or eternal glory unless they should eat of his flesh and drink of his blood — that such a command is a thing that cannot be done, that it is a thing opposed to human nature. — Bilvus est hie sermo-— this saying is hard. — St. John 6 c., 61 v. You, too, will, without doubt, tell me that to love one’s enemies ' is a thing that cannot be done — to love the very person who, 50 MOST BEV. DB. GA LLAGHEB. air an te, d’a B-fuilmuid cinnte, fuat a Beit aige orainn ; grád a Beit againn air an te, a Beir mi-cliii agus scanal duinn. Act deirim-se gur ^igin a d^anad, de Brig go B-fuil Criost ’g a ordugad daoiB, agns nac B-£uil cur suas agaiB gan a toil do deanad. — Ego autem dico volis, A’c. : act deirim-se liB, A’c. Má dearcamuid air an naduir annti fein, de Brig go B-fuil nios m6 de claon aici cum oilc ’ná cum maiteasa, is nid do-deanta so aici. Act má dearcamuid airsi faoi stiiirad na n-gras, an nid so a tá do-deanta aici geaBfaid si se, so-déanta, socamlac. Ni orduigeann Criost nid air bit do-deanta duinn ; ni cuireann se ualac orainn nac d-tig linn lomcar. — JJeus impossibilia non julet, sed jubendo admonet, et facere quod possis, et petere quod nonpossis (St. Augustin.) Ni orduigeann Dia neite do-de'anta, act ’n uair a Beir se ordugad, cuireann se ann uiiial duinn — déanaid an mend a tig liB, agus an meud nac d-tig, larraid air Dia neart cum a deanta. Ni ’1 duine air bit a dearcas air na ádBair a gluai- seas se ann grád Beit aig air a nániaidiB, nac g-cuireann cruatan air íém, air doig, ann a déanta. An ceud ádBar dioB, gur orduig Criost duinn a deanad, agus d’a Brig sin go B-fuil d’ fiacaiB orainn a toil do de'anad. An dara adBar gur graduig criost féin a naihaide air an t-saogal so, agus go B-fuil d’ fiacaiB orainn-ne ait ns do de'anad air. An treas ádBar, an te nac d-tugann maiteacas d’ a námaidiB ni B-£uige se riiaiteacas. So siad na tri puince dt;an£as me de mo comrad. Act guideamuid Dia air SEBMONS OF THE 51 0 -: it' ■ we feel certain, hates us ; to hold in affectionate respect the very man who reviles our fair fame, who speaks in scandalous terms of our name and character — nay, who ceases not from word or deed that is calculated to sully and blast one for ever ? But I tell you that no matter how difficult and painful soever it may be, it is necessary to forgive, because Christ orders you to do so, and that as Christians you cannot say against doing his will. — Ego autem dico vohis : But I say to you, forgive your enemies. If we consider human nature only, which has a stronger inclination to evil than to good, it is a matter difficult, indeed, to comply with ; but if we consider human nature under the directing influence of divine grace, the difficulty vanishes, and we And that which before appeared impossible and repugnant to our feelings to be feasible and quite agreeable. Christ does not enjoin any duty which seems impossible ; he does not im- pose any load which we are not able to bear. — Deus im- possibilia non juhet, sed jubendo admonei, et faceve quod possis et petere quod non possis. — St. Augustin. God does not order impossibilities, but in ordering he admonishes to do all you can, and what you cannot — to ask grace to enable you to accomplish. — 8t Augustin. There is no person who views the reasons which in- fluence him to love his enemies that will not find that he must make, very likely, painful efforts in order to fulfil this obligation. The first reason for loving one’s enemies is : Christ ordered us to do so, and therefore we are obliged to do his wish. Second reason, Christ himself loved, while on earth, his enemies, and we are accordingly called on to follow his example. The third reason — the person who will not forgive shall not be forgiven. These are the points which I shall make of this discourse. But let us first beseech God to enkindle the fire of divine charity in L, A .STNUT H V .. 52 MOST REV. DE. GALLAGHER. d-tus teine neámda na cartanacta lasad ann ar g-croidtiB, lonnos go ngrádócamuis Dia os cionn gac nid agus ar g- coiiiursa mar sinn fém, aig rád na Ave Maria. An ceud punc — Bud mdr an loot leis na PagánaiB air CriostaidtiB na sean-aimsire, go m-bidead siad ro-cruaid orra fdin, agus socaiiilac, so-grádac leis an t-saogal uile. IsTi maitead siad nid dá lagad duiB fein noc do gnidead siad ann agaid De, no na comursan, gan diogaltas a ddanad air a g-colainn le trosgad agus cruatan, le éadaigiB rdin agus sgiursaidiB. Act ni ’1 nid dá liieud deanfad an comursa orra, nac d-tugad maiteacas ann, gan moill. Is md goillfead orra an fearg a cuirfaid air Dia, ’na an diogBáil gnidti dioB fdin. Oc ! mo mile truaige nac d-tig linn an loot cdadna d’ fagail air CriostaidtiB na áimsire so. Is beag a tá anois le fágail a leanas beusa na muintire siid. Bealac contrarda leanas siad. Hi leur leo eagcdir da meud a gnid siad fdin, act is leur leo an nid is luga gnid- tear orra fein. Beirid maiteacas ddiB fein gan modi, act maiteacas taBairt do ’n g-comursain, nid air leit sin ; ni’l mait aig larraid orra ; racfaid siad tri troigte steac air dorus Ifrinn air son diogaltas a ddanad. Act cad se is ciall do ’n neam-cosamlact a tá eidir an dá cineál Criostaid 80 ? Is cosamail nac se an Dia ceadna a tá againn-ne a Bi aca-san, no ma ’s se nac d-tugann duinii-ne an luac- saotair cdadna a Beiread se ddiB-san, de ceann grad a Beit aca air a námaidiB ; nd, nac B-fuil eagla orainn-ne roirii an diogaltas mar do Bi orra-san ? O, is se an Dia cdadna a tug ordugad ddiB-san grád do Beit aca air a namaidiB agus maiteacas taBairt doiB, a tá aig ordiigad duinne-ne an nid cdadna do ddanad . — Ego auiem dico vobis. Agus nior lagaduig a trdcaire, luac saotair ’na gldire taBairt do ’n muintir a glacas a comairle, agus ni md’na sin, lagaduig a SERMONS OF THE 58 our hearts in order that we may love God above all things and our neighbours as ourselves, saying for that purpose, Hail Mary, &c. The Pagans of old found fault with the Christians of their time, that they were very severe towards themselves, and very gentle, indulgent and loving towards the whole world besides. They would not forgive themselves the least fault they had committed either against God or their neighbour without avenging it on their flesh by fasting and mortification, by sackcloth and scourges. But there was nothing — be it ever so great which their neighbour would inflict on them by way of injury — which they would not forthwith forgive. The offence given to God would grieve them more than the injury done to themselves. Oh ! to my grief that we cannot find the same fault with the Christians of these times. There are very few now to be found who follow the custom of those people. They steer a contrary course. The greatest wrong they themselves do is not perceived by them, but they soon see the least harm done to them- selves by others. They pardon themselves immedi- diately, but to pardon their neighbour is a thing set aside j nay, it is no use to ask them, they would go even three paces withim the gates of hell in order to obtain revenge. But what is the reason of the difference between these two sorts of Christians ? It would appear that it is not the same God we have, that they had ; or if it is, it seems He does not give the same reward for loving our enemies that He gave them for loving theirs ; or that we have no dread of punishment as they had. Oh, my brethren, it is the same God who commanded them to love their enemies and to pardon quickly every kind of injustice they had received from their foes, that is commanding us to do as they did. And as it does not diminish his mercy to grant the reward of eternal glory to those who obey his counsels, neither does it diminish 51 UOST REV. DR. GALLAGHER. cumact pianta do-aireaiha, do-mnsid, taBairt do ’o muintir. a Briseas a aitne. Act se is adBar do’n neam- cosamlact a tá eidir CriostaidtiB na áimsire so, agus an mumtir a Bi a d-tus na Éaglaise, gur fuaruig anois an- craBad, gur imtig an caon-ddtraút, gur dibiread an carta- nact : agus nac B-£uil ’nn n-a áit againn act easBa crsidim, ainfios agus earráid, uaBar agus an-flaiteas, fuat agus fearg, diBfeirge, agus dannartact ann agaid ar g-coihur- san. So siad na peacaid fagas flaiteamnas Dé ’nn a fásac agus lionas Ifrionn. So siad na peacaid a sgriosas crice, loisgeas caitreaca, tug an dile air an doman, agus loisg- feas faoi deire an ceatar-cruinne muna d-tionntuigmuid air i)ia, agus muna raBamar umal d’a aitne, grád againn air ar námaidiB, agus muna d-taBairfid sinn maiteacas d(5iB ann gac nid a ddanfaid orainn. — ego autem dico voUs. Tug Dia anns an t-seanract aitne agus ordugad do ’n cine daonda grad do Beit aca air an g-comursain. — Diligea iproximum tuum. Do riieas na ludaige tré ainfios, nac n- orduigead an aitne so dóiB, act grad a Beit aca air a g-cáir- diB, agus gur b ’feidir doiB fuat a Beit aca air a nániaidiB. — Audistisguia dictum ed antiguis : diliges proximum tuum^ et odio hahelis inimicum tuum {^lat. 5 c. 43 v.') Act lonnos go m-Béar£ad losa Criost eolus doiB ann ait an dorcadais ann a raiB siad, laBraid go soildir an diu leis an t-saogab Beir ordugad geinearáilte duiB nac leor ddiB grád a Beit an* a g-cairdiB, act £us gur éigin d(jiB grad a Beit aca air a namaidiB, mait a ddanad ann agaid an oilc, agus a Beit guide air son na muintire is md a gnid díogbáil ddiB. Agus muna seunfaid tu, a criostaid, nac se Criost do Dia, do Eig, no do Tigearna, nac se Criost d’ Atair, ni ’1 cur suas agat gan a toil do ddanad, ann gac nid orduigeas duit, air an adBar ni’l cailideact dioB so ann a B-£uil SEBMONS OF TEE 55 his power to inflict the most tormenting, inexpressible pains on those who break his commandments. But the cause of the difference between the Christians of these times and those who were in the primitive ages of the Church, is, that piety has now become cold, devotion has gone, charity has been banished. Nothing remains with ns but want of religion, ignorance, error, pride, and love of domineering, hatred, and anger, hostility and implaca- ble hate against the neighbour ; these are the sins that leave the kingdom of God deserted, and fill hell ; these are the sins that destroy nations, that consume cities ; these are the sins which brought the deluge on the world, and which will at length consume the whole world, if we do not return to God, and be obedient to his commands, by loving our enemies, and forgiving them in all things. In the Old Law God imposed a commandment, and gave an order to mankind to love their neighbour.— Diliges proximum tuum. The Jews were, from ignorance, under the impression that this commandment enjoined on them the obligation of loving only their friends, and that it was entirely at their discretion to hate their enemies.— Audistis quia dictum est antiquis : Diliges proximum tuum, et odio habelis inimicum tuum (Matt. 5, c. 43 v. But in order that Jesus Christ would give them knowledge in place of ignorance, and the light of grace instead of the darkness in which they were placed, he speaks to-day clearly to the world. He gives a general order, that it is not enough for mankind to love their friends, but further that it behoves them to love their enemies, to do good for evil, and to pray for the people who do them most wrong. And unless, oh, Christian man, that you deny that Christ is your God, your King, or your Lord, that you deny that He is your father — you cannot gainsay the performing of His will in everything regarding which He commands you; for this reason — that there is not one attribute or relation in which He can be viewed as your Supreme 56 MOST BEV. BE. GALLAGHER Criost os do ceann nac n-orduigeann ádrad agus dndir taBairt d’a pearsain, agus umlact d’a toil. Agus an féidir a rád go n-diuU(jcaid tusa, a Criostaid, grad a Beit agat air do naniaidiB agus Criost ’g a ordugad duit, agus gan dume, no cr(iatur, anns an g-cruinne, act muna B-fuil tusa amain, a duine, nac n-deanfad gan ihoill gac nid ordui- geas Criost dóiB. Má orduigeann do ’n talaih, puibleaca agus crice a slugad, f oisgleócaid si gan moill, agus sluigf id si siad d’ aon greim, amail agus mar rinnead le mór-mór an pobuil EaBraig air an B-£asac, faoi dul a d-tráas air an árd-sagart, Aran. Má larrann air an uisge diogaltas a déanad air na peacaigiB, cidfid tu an fairge, aig eirig ’nn a mór-sléiBtiB, aig d(ianad sgris agus di-ceannuigte réir a orduigte, aihail agus mar cualaid siB, le linn na dilean teact air an doiiian. Má orduigeann do teine gau diog- Bail a ddanad do na firéiniB, ann ait a n-dutad no a losgad Beir SI coBair agus fionnfuact doiB, amail agus mar d’eirig do ’n triur leanB a teilgead a B-fuirneis craoisig Babiloin, agus nár losgad oiread a’s ribe d’a n-gruaig. Maisead, an ait a B-fuil na créatiíir so, aig nao B-fuil ciall no ceud- faid aig diianad gac nid go úmal a orduigeas an t-árdrig duiB, an racfaid tusa aiiiáin, a duine, d’a d-tug Dia ciall agus ceudfaid agus mile buntaiste eile, nac B-fuair siad- san, a d-treas air í)ia, aig diultiigad maiteacas taBairt do ’n te, a gnid coir no eagcuir ort, agus Criost, ni se amain, *g a ordugad duit, act fós aig taBairt sompla agus eisiom- lar duit, ann a pearsain fein agus a b-pearsain gac naoiiii a Bi anns an Eaglais 6 trig an t-saogail go d-ti so, réir mar tairgfeas me a crutugad anns an dara punc. An dara punc — Measfad, a Criostaidte, go n-dáanfad an Patriarc Seosep diogaltas agus di-ceannugad air a dearBraitreacaiB an uair a fuair se se féin ’nn a máigistir SERMONS OF TEE 57 Head and Lord, that He does not deserve and command adoration and honor to be paid to His person, and obedi- ence to His will. And is it possible that you, ob Chris- tian, will refuse to love your enemies, and Christ the while ordering you ! —Christ, whom every being and creature in creation (except yourself alone, oh man) would instantly perform everything which He orders them to do. If He should order the earth to swallow people and nations, it would immediately open and devour them in one gulp, as happened to the greater part of the Hebrew people in the desert for entering into revolt against the high priest Aaron. If He command the water to overflow its boundary and execute vengeance on the sinner, you should see the sea rising up high as mountains at His command, and spreading destruction and devastation as at the time the deluge came on the world. If He were to command the fire not to hurt the elect, instead of burning and consuming them, it would com- fort and cherish them, as happened to the three children thrown into the devouring furnace of Babylon, wherein not even as much as a hair of their head was burnt. Why then, if these creatures that are void of understand- ing or ot sense, faithfully and humbly perform every- thing their Sovereign King commands them, wilt thou alone, oh man, to whom God has given reason and sense, and a thousand other benefits not conferred upon them, rise in rebellion against Him, by refusing to forgive those who may have done thee a wrong, or injustice, while Jesus Christ commands thee, and sets thee an example or pattern in His own person, and those of the saints, who were in the Church from the beginning of the world till the present time ? This point I shall endeavour to show in the second part. 2nd Part — You would, Christians, doubtless suppose that the patriarch Joseph, when he found himself gover- nor of all Egypt, should have poured vengeance and de- struction upon his brethren, who were then subject to 58 MOST BEV DR. OALLAQHER. air an Egipt agus siad-san faoi n-a cumact. An B-fuiI duine air bit réir an t-saogail a tá anois ann, a cuirfide noctuigte a b-poll, mar rinnead le Seosep lonnos go b- fuigead se bas de ’n fuact agus de ’n gort, agus a diol- faide mar sglaBaid'le deoraidtiB, mar rinnead leis-sean, nac d-tabarfad air a lagad, lomarbad do ’n muintir a dáanfad a leitid so d’ feill air ? Da m-bud ortsa a deanfaide an fitceadmad cuid, a dume boict, a eirigeas mar dritleog ann airde, má deirtear focal d’a lagad leat ; aig a m-bideann do bata agus do dom, an sgian, agus an cloc ullam faoi comair an te do gnid ^agcuir dá lagad ort, agus m se sin aiiiain, act is s6 a deir tu, go m-beidtea sásta dul go Ifrionn air son do niian fagail air an te do gnid eagcdir ort. Ni sé so do rinne an duine naoiiita Seosep. Co luat a^s tuig se, go d-tug atair ordugad do, ann a tiomna d^igio- naig síotcán a deana'l le n-a dearbrataireacaib, tug se maiteacas duib ; do mail doib gan moill gac a n-dearnadar air ; do liieas se nár mac ceart agus £cs nár mac liiiial se, dá n-diultocad an nid a d’ orduig atair do dáanad. Má deir tu, a Criostaid, go b-fuair tu aitis agus masla gan adbar, go d-tug do comursa mi-cliu agus scanal duit, cuirim a g-cás go n-dearnaid, act is eigin duit-se maiteanas tabairt ann. Nibr b’ feidir ^agcí'íir, no feall nios má deanad ort, ’na rinne air Seosep, gid tug maiteacas duib gan moill air impige atar talmaid, agus an n-diiiltocaid tusa impige an atar sioruid, a ta aig ordugad duit, mai- teanas tabairt do gac aon a gnid eagcoir ort — Ego autem dico vohis. Creideann tu, air n-doig, a Criostaid go m-bud feidir le Criost teine cur as na Flaitis, agus Érod agus a muintir a losgad, piidar agus luaitread a deanad diob, an uair a cuir siad na leinb cum báis, agus gur mian leo Criost, agus se ’nn a leanb, cur cum bais leo. Creideann tu, air SERMONS OF TEE 59 Lis power. As the world goes at present, is there any one to be found who, being taken and stripped naked and cast into a pit, that he might there expire of cold and hunger, as was done by his brethren to Joseph, that would not at least retaliate in some measure upon those who gave him such barbarous and unfeeling treatment ? If the one-twentieth part of this great wrong had been inflicted on you, oh, poor man, who fliest like a spark high in a blaze, if the least word is said to you — there you have your stick and your fist, the knife and the stone, immediately to let go at such as would give you the least insult ; and not only that, but you say that you would be satisfied to go to hell, provided you could be revenged on those who do you any injury. It was not thus the patriarch Joseph behaved. No sooner had he learned that his father had besought him. in his last testament, to make peace with his brethren, than he pardoned them ; he forgave them all they had done to him, because he considered it his duty, as a son, to obey his father’s orders. Christians, if you say that you were reviled and abused without reason ; that your neighbour slandered aud scandalised you — suppose that to be the case, still you should forgive him. It is not possible that you could have received greater injury or ill-treatment than Joseph received, yet he instantly for- gave, at the request of a terrestrial father, and will you deny the request of the Eternal Father, who orders you to forgive’ every one w^ho wrongs you ? “I say unto you, love your enemies.” You believe, it is to be supposed, 0 Christian man, that Christ had power to bring fire from heaven, and to burn up Herod and his people, to reduce them to dust and ashes, on the occasion when they put the babes of Bethlehem to death, and it their wish at the time to put Christ, too, who was then a babe, to death along with them. You believe, of course that He might have commanded thousands of angels to be put in array 60 MOST REV. DR. OALLAGEER. n-doig, go m-b’ feidir leis, na milte d’ ainglib cnr ann arm, a cosnócad se air na gárdaib malluigte sud, a tainic *g á gabail ann a gáirdín : Creideann tu, air n-doig, go m-b’ feidir leis, an cinne Indaigte uile do scrios, agu3 do diceannngad, an fairge mdr tabairt timcioll orra an uair cuaid siad ’g á céusad. Ni’l contabairt air bit ann a ceann, nac d-tioc£ad le Criost gac nid dioB so a deanad. Dá m-bud agat-sa, a peacaig boict, aig a m-bideann an ceann air fiucad, an croide ’g a reubad, agus ’g á brisead le aingideact, agus run diogaltais, a cailleas do suaiiiineas agus do codlad, aig stuide'ar cad se an mod air a n-deanfa diogbail no dolaid do ’n te, a gnideas éagcóir dá lagad ort. Is cinnte dá m-beidead cuinact Criost agat, go n-imirv5ca se gan fuigeall. Maisead, ann áit diogbáil no dolaid a deanad do na Íudaigib d’ fulaing se bás fonmiiar air a son, lonnos go b-feicfad an doman meud an grád bi aige air a namaidib — Cum potuit ulcisci maluit pati (^St, Amlrose). O, a cartanact gan cuimsiugad ! 0, grad eugsamail Mic Dé air an doman ! Is meannract do buideacas a tuillead no aitris a deanad ort : is mairg nac d-toigfead buaid a breit air a droc nádiír, aig gradugad a namaide, agus tusa ann diu dortad do cuid fola fior uaisle air son do namaide — Cum potuit ulcisci, maluit pati. 0, droing malluigte, bideas feargac diogaltac ; aig a m-bideann an croide cruaid, neam-trdcaireac ; dearcaid ann diu Criost a g-crann na croice — Sumat Proedicator Crucem, ostendat singulas plagas. Feucaid a ceann ’nn a criotar tollta leis an g-corúin spionaid ; feucaid a taob tollta leis an t-sleig ; feucaid a corp str(jcta le scmrsaib ; feucaid a lama agus a cosa tollla le tairngib. Act eist leis, a g-crann na Croice, aig guide an Atar sioruide air son a námaide. SERMONS OF THE 61 to deliver Him from that cursed guard which came to ap- prehend Him in the garden. You believe, I suppose, that He might have extirpated and destroyed the whole Jewish nation ; that He might have made the great sea encom- pass and swallow them when they went to crucify Him . It is not to be questioned but that Jesus Christ could have done every one of those things. It it were thy case, thou poor sinner, whose brain boils, whose heart is rent and torn with rancour and a desire of revenge, who losest thy repose and thy sleep in planning how thou mayest do injury or mischief to such as do thee the least hurt, it is certain that if thou hadst the power of Jesus, thou wouldst exercise it without end ; but He instead of doing hurt or harm to the Jews, suffered death willingly for their sake, in order that the world might see the excess of the love which He bore His enemies . — Cum potaib ulcisci, maluit pati (St» Ambrose), Oh, charity beyond comprehension! Oh, unparalled love of the Sen of God for the whole world ! It is a noble thing to merit Thy thanks; to follow Thy divine example ; it is sad that they do not endeavour this, at least, to overcome the evil promptings of nature, by loving their enemies, whilst Thou art, this day, pour- ing forth Thy life’s blood for Thy enemies. Oh, you wicked generation^ who are prone to passion and revenge, whose hearts are hardened and unmerciful, behold Jesus Christ, this day, extended on the cross — behold His head like a sieve all pierced with the crown of thorns ; behold His body all mangled and torn by scourges ; behold His hands and feet bored through with nails. But notwithstanding all this, hear Him on the cross praying to the Eternal Father for His enemies — “ Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” 62 MOST BBV. DB. GALLAGHER. Malt doiB, At air gradaig, mait doiB a b-pea'aid — Pater dimitte illis (Luc, 23, 34). Feucaid, pobuil, feucaid an raib ordlac saBailte de, o mullac a cinn, go bun a tos, nac raiB faoi cnead agus faoi lot — A planta pedis usque ad verticem, non cst in eo sanitas (Isa. 1, 6J. Ni feicim-se sáBáilte aige act a teanga, agus ni feicim sgit dul airsi act aig guide Atar gan a Bas d’ aifirt air a náihaidiB — Pater dimitte illis. O, mi-naduract an duine ! 0, a Barbaract na n-Iudac ! Anns an am ceadna ann a raiB siad-san aig sgairtead agus á gártad aig larraid Cribst a ceusai, crucijigatur, crucijigatur (Matt, 27, 23) Bi se-san aig urnaige aig larraid siad-san do slanugad — Eimiite^ dimitte (Luc. 23, 24). Ni’l d’a liieud Bi an Buidean liialluigte so leasad le Cibcrus ann a cuid £ola a dortad nac md Bi Criost air lasad cum mait a deanad. ddiB-san — Sitio. O, a peacaig, act muna maotfaid an full uasal so Criost do oroide a doirt se air son a naihaide ; act muna maotfaid sompla Criost agus gac naom a Bi air an t-saogal do droc-nádur ann maiteacas taBairt go éuscaid do do coiiiursam, criot- nucaid tu, air n-ddig, aig clos an diogaltas do gnid Dia air an ihuintir a Bideas dannarta, cruaid-croideac leis an g-comursain, nid air a geall me tract anus an treas punc. An Treas Punc. Beir Criost solus go leor dilinn, aig Mata anns an óctihad caibidil deug, cad se an mod air a roinnfid Dia leis an riiuintir nac d-tugann maiteacas go euscaid d’a náiiiaidiB, a b-pearsain rig áiride, a tug faoi daor-ceangal cos agus laiii a taBairt air fear d’a seirBisigiB a teilgeann a g-carcair, duimsid, dorca, a congBail ann, faoi* f uact agus faoi gorta air f ead a saogail, agus an uile cineál pianilis taBairt go laetaiiiail do, agus sin uile, fá gur cur se a comseirBiseac a b-priosiin fa deic sgillinge, tar eis an an rig maitead do fein deic mile punt anns an muimeint roiiiie sin. Dá maitfead an duine miotrdcaireac so na SERMONS OF THE 63 Luke xxlii. 34. Bekold, ray beloved people, is there an inch from tlie crown of His head to the sole of His feet safe, or what was not covered with scars or wounds ? — Isa. i., 6. I see no part of His members whole but His tongue, and I find it earnestly employed praying to His Father not to avenge His death upon His enemies — ■ “ Father, forgive them, &c. Oh, the ill nature of man ! Oh, barbarity of the Jews ! At the same moment that they were shouting and clamoring that Christ be crucified, saying — “ Crucify Him, crucify Him,” He was praying to His Father to for- give them, and imploring salvation for them — Dimilte^ dlmitte (Luc. 23, 24). The more these wretched mis- creants were inflamed with the thirst of spilling His blood, the more He was filled with charity towards them. — Sitio. Oh, sinner, if the precious blood of Jesus, which He shed for you, do not soften your heart — if His ex- ample, and that of every saint who existed in the world, do not induce you to forgive your enemies, let the indig- nation and threatening of the Almighty against those that are cruel and hard-hearted towards their neighbour, lead you to it. Of this I proposed to treat in the third part. The third point — In the eighteenth chapter, according to St. Matthew, Christ gives us suflScient insight of the manner in which God will deal with the class who do not speedily forgive their enemies. This knowledge He imparts in the example which he furnishes in the person of a certain king who insisted that one of his men- servants should be tied down hand and foot ; that he should be thrown into prison, dreary and dark; that he should be kept there in cold and hunger during his life- time, and to inflict on him daily every kind of punish- ment, and all that because he pat his own fellow-servant into prison for ten shillings, after the king had just the previous moment forgiven himself a debt of ten thou- 64 MOST REV. DR. QÁLLAGEEB. deic sgillmge, ihaitfeaS an Rig na deic mile punt do. Act mar nár mait se-san an t-suim Beag, ni maitfead an rig an t-suim m(5r d(5-san, agus mar sin de, an Breit tug se, tugad air fein aris si. Cuir se-san a comradaid a g-carcair fa deic sgillmge, agus d’a druim so, do tdgad a niaoin agus a substaint, do diolad a Bean agus a clann, agus cuiread se féin air fead a saogail a g-carcair faoi ’n uile cineál boctaineacta agus anroid — Et iratus Dominus ejus tradidit eum tortorihus, quoad usque redderet universum delitum (xlfai. xviii., 34). An nid céadna d’ eirig do ’n fear so, éirócaid sd do gac aon a deanfas aitris air, Act muna n-dcanfaid siB-se tro- caire air Bur g-coih-creatiir, deir Criost, ’ san áit cdadna, ni deanfaid mise trocaire air bit oraiB-se. An uair nac maitfid siB-se na deic sgillmge, se sin, an coir Beag, a gnidtear Bur n-agaid, ni ihaitfid mise na deic mile punt, se sin, an coir liiBr, a gnidtear m’ agaid-se. Act a tá so de neam-cosaiiiaileact eidir mise agus siB-se : ni tig liB-se diogBáil a deanad act do ’n colain, agus go d-taBarfaid mise uile cineál pianta do ’n corp agus do ’n anam, air fead na sioruideacta — Sic f octet Pafer mens cailestis^ vobis^ si non re-miseritis unusquisque fratri suo de cordibus vestris xviii., 35.) Act, mar sin, a Criostaidte, is conrad a tá eidir Dia agus an duine, má liiaitfead tu, maitfdar duit — Si remise- rilis remiltetur volis. Agus cuireann tusa seula air an g-conrad so, co minic a’s deir tu do paidir, co mime a’s deir tu, mait diiinn ar B-fiaca reir mar liiaiteamuid gac fiaca agus gac coirte a gnidtear ann ar n-agaid. Má Bri- seann tusa an conrad so, má Bideann tu dannarta, crua- dalac, neaiii-trucdireac le do coiiiursain, beid Dia diBfeir- geac, diogaBtai, neam-trocaireac leat — Judicium sine SERMOKS GF TER 65 sand pounds. If this unmerciful man would only for- give the ten shillings, why, the king would have forgiven him the ten thousand pounds. But as he did not forgive the small sum, the king would not forgive him the large sum, and therefore the judgment which the servant forced was was exacted of himself. He put his companion into prison for ten shillings, and in consequence of that, his own wealth and substance were confiscated; his wife and children were taken and sold, and he himself cast into prison, to be under every sort of want and misery, during his life “ And his Lord being angry, delivered him to the tor- turers until he should pay all the debt.” (Matt, xviii. 34.) The same thing shall happen to every one who imitates this man. ^ If you domot show mercy, says Christ in the text,M will show you no mercy ! when you would not remit the ten shillings, that is, the small offence commit- ted against you ; I will not remit you the ten thousand talents, that is, the great crime committed against me : but this difference exists between me and you ; you can injure the body alone, but I shall inflict every kind of torment on the body and soul for all eternity. ‘‘ So also ehall my heavenly Father do to you if you forgive not every one his brother from your hearts.” — Matt. xvii. 35. Christians, it is therefore a contract or a covenant be- tween God and man: If you forgive, you will be for- given ; and you put your seal on this contract, as often as you repeat the Our Father, as often as you say, “ for- give us our trespasses, as we forgive every trespass that 13 committed against us.” If you violate this compact if you be harsh, violent, and unmerciful to your neigh- bour, God will be indignant, severe, and unmerciful to you. “ For judgement without mercy to him that hath not done mercy.” James ii. 13. He will say to thee in 66 MOST BEV. BE. GALL AGE EB. miser icordia eiqiii fecit misericordiam (lac. ii. 13). Dear*^ f aid sé leat, le linn d o cruatain agus do cruadcáis ; le linn do Bais agus do Breiteamnnis, nac tusa an dnme malluigte a Bi neam-trucaireac le do comnrsain ? Nac se an ditcioll a Bi agat cad se an mod do deanfa diogaltas agus dolaid di ? An se nár mait mise go minic duit do mdr-coirte agus an mait£ea-sa nid d’a laigead do do com-creatdr mar geall orm-sa ? GeaBfaid tu anois slat de do tomas f^in ; zmtig roiiiat anns na boirb-teintiB snd a tá ’g a n-ollmu- gad do ’n DiaBal, agus do gac aon a rinne aitris air.-« Judicium sine miscricordia, &c. 0, a Cr'ostaid, nár leigid Dia go d-tuill£ea an t-iomarBas so taBairt duit. Má Bi tu daotaiiiail dannarta go d-ti so, bi £easta cartanac, trJ- caireac ; dean so mar uiiilact do Criost ; dean se mar grád air I)ia ; d^an se le eagla roiiii na mór-pianta sud I£rinn, 310 air a laigead, mar geall air an luac saotair a tá le £agail agat, anns an t-saogal so, agus anns an t-saogal eile : Nid a tá mise aig larraid, &c. AN CEATARMAi) SEANMOIR. Air an B-Eaosidin agus na Coingioill a ta Riactanac. In his jacelat multitudo majna languentium, coecorum, claudorum., & aridorum, expectantium aquce motuin. Do Bi timcioll an tobair so, uiiiiir mdr de daoiniB tinno, de daill, de BacaigiB, agus de daoiniB bocta, aig a raiB a m-baill uile seargta, tirim, le paralais, aig suil le cor- rugad an uisge — Briatra leigtear aig Edn anns an trimad raim de ’n ciiigmad caibidil. Is miorBuileac an tobar se so Bi le taoB cat air Serusa- lem ; is mdr an Buaid agus an Brig so Bi ann a cuid uisge. Tigead aingeal as na Flaitis ann am airide de ’n Id agus SEBMONS OF THE 67 the time of hard trials and hard lot, in the time of ap- proaching death and judgment: “Art thou rot that wicked person that was unmerciful to his neighbour? Was it not thy constant study to see in what manner thou couldst injure thy neighbour ? Did not I often forgive thee thy great crimes, and wouldst thou not forgive the least thing to thy fellow-creature, for the sake of me ? Thou shalt receive a yard of thy own measure ; depart from me to the raging fire that is prepared for the devil and all those who imitate him.” 0 Christians, God for- bid that you would deserve that this upbraiding language should be applied to you. If you have been heretofore violent and inveterate, be charitable and merciful from this forward ; do this in submission to Jesus Christ ; do it for God’s sake ; do it for fear of the terrible torments of hell, or at least for the sake of tha reward that awaits you in this world and the next. This is what I implore for yourselves and myself in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. FOURTH SERMON. ON CONFESSION AND ON THE CONDITIONS NECESSARY. “ In these lay a great multitude of sick, of blind, of lame of withered, waiting for the moving of the water.”— St. John, c. 5, V. 3. This was a miraculous pond which lay near the city of Jerusalem. Great was the healing power and efficacy of its waters. An angel from heaven came, on a certain time of the day, and stirred the waters, and whosoever 6S MOST HEV. DB. GALLÁGEEB. do corrnigcad sé an tobar, agns cia b’ sé duine is luaite tomfad anns tobar tar eis a corruigte, Bidead se leigeasta gan moill b’n uile cineál galair agus easlainte — Samcs fiebat aquacumqiie deiinehatur infirmitate (Joannes v., c. 4.) Ni neam-cosamail, a cáirdé, an tobar so le sacramnint naomta na faoisidine, air an adbar, reir mar nac raiB mait ann uisge an tobair sud act mar tigead aingeal ’g a corrugad, mar an g-ceadna ni fnil mait anns an B-faoisidin act mar tig Aingeal Dé, se sin, na grasa neámda, aig cor- riigad agus aig spreagad coinsiais an peacaig ; agus réir mar leigeas uisge an tobair sud gac easlainte a Bi air an g-colain, leigeasaid tobar miorBuileac na faoisidine, an t-anam 6 gac luBar 6 gac lot, agus 6 gac easlainte marBac a Bideas air. — Confitemini alter utrum peccata vestra ut salvemini (Ja. v, 16.) ’ Measg an lomaid daoine do Bi faoi Bruac an tobair sud Serusalem, ni feicim Criost aig leigeas aon duine aca act aon duine amain, a Bi a b-para- Mis marBac air fead oct m-bliadna deug agus fice, agus cidim an nid ceadna tuitim amac aig tobar glormar na faoisidine. Cidim na milte duine teact go laetamail ann na sacramuinte so, aig sail le leigeas d’ fagail air easlainte a n-anam ; act se cidim siai aig fillead air a n-ais, agus a g-cneadaca nios guaiseactaig ’ná mar Bi siad roime. — Etjiant 7iovissima hominis illius pejora prionbus (liatt. xii. 45). Cad se is ciall do so ’a cáirde ? An se sin le rad nac B-fuil an oiread luaideacta aig an B-faoisidin anois agus do Bi annti a d-tiis na Éaglaise ? No gur caill si a brig anois an uair is md a riactanas ? Ar b’ feidir faoisidin no aitrige a Beifc a riaiii nios riactanaige ’na air an uair so ? No ar b’ feidir luBar an peacaid a Beit a riam nios leiteadaige ’na air an uair so ? Ar raiB, ann am air Bit a riam, na breuga nios lomadamla; namionnaid mdra SEBMONS OF THE C9 was first immerged in the pond after the motion of the water, was cured of whatsoever disease or infirmity which had afiBiicted him. This pond, my beloved brethern, is not unlike the blessed sacrament of confession ; because as the water of that fountain had no virtue unless an angel came to stir its waters, so, in like manner, confes- sion has no effect unless an angel from God, that is, di- vine grace come to move and excite the concience of the sinner. And as the water of that fountain cured all the ailments of the body, so the miraculous fountain of con- fession heals the soul from whatever leprosy, wound, or deadly disease it is subject to. “ Confess, therefore, your sins one to another.” Among the number of such people present on the verge of the pond at Jerusalem, I find that Jesus Christ healed only one who had been for thirty-eight years afflicted with a deadly palsy. And I see the same thing happen at the glorious fountain of confession. I see thousands approach this sacrament, every other day, expecting to be healed of the infirmity of their souls ; but I see them return with their spiritual maladies in a state more dan- gerous than at first ; and therefore our Lord saith, “ the last state of that man is worse than the first.” What is the reason of this my friends ? Is that to say that con- fession has not the same amount of efldcacy now as it had in the early ages of the church ? or, that it has lost its power now, when its necessity is most needed ? Could it be possible that confession or penance was ever more necessary than at the present ? or has the corroding in- fluence of sin ever more extended than at present ? Was there ever a time in which lies were more general — swear- ing more frequent, — lust and foulness more abominable, gluttony and drunkenness more in fashion — theft injus- tice, and oppression of our neighbours more common among all classes of people than at present ? Ah ! no, my friends. But among the class that were aged and infirm who had been at the pool of Jerusalem, we see some 70 MOST BEY, BE. GALLAQEEB. nios minice ; drdis agus adaltrandis nios madramla ; craos agus misge nios gnataige ; gadaideact, eagcóir agus leat-trom na comursan, nios coitceanna, eidir an uila cineal drong daoine, nios mo ’na air an uair so ? O ! nior raiB, a cairde. Act ’measg an aois galair sdd, a Bi aig bruac tobair Serusalem, cidim cuid dioB bacac, cuid dall, agus cuid eile aig a raiB a m-baill crion, tirim, o’n easlainte ; agus ’se, ineasaim, gur figiur agus sompla siad air an liiuintir a tig go laetamail cum faoisidine. Mar daill, se sin, nac leur dóiB a b-peacaid, de Brig nac g-cuar- tuigeann agus nac scrudann a g-coinsias — Coecorum : Mar bacaig, de Brig go ]n-deanann faoisidin cam, bacac, aig folugad agus aig ceilt cneadaca a n-anam. — Glaudorum: Agus do cidim siad aig teact gan dulas, gan tursa, la croide tirim seargta, mar an muintir sud an paralais.— Aridorum. So an t-adBar, a cairde, a fagas faoisidin an lomaid gan torad, gan tairBe. So an nid a Beireas air tobar miorBuileac na aitrige gan cnead ar n-anam do leigeas ; agus so an nid, air a mian liomsa tract an dm tar dis mo comrad ruinn ann a tri punc. Bid^an faosidin gan tairBe, an uair do gnidtear si gan scriidad coinsiais — sin an ceud punc. Bid si gan tairBe ’n uair nac n-aitris- tear na peacaid go iomlán — sin an dara punc. Bid si gan tairBe an uair nac n-deantar si le dólás agus le tursa croide — sin an tririiad punc. Ave Maria — ’Se do Beata, a Muire, &c. An ceud punc. — Aiiiail agus'mar a tá na milte gné aicide aig brat air ang-colain tarraingeas si ann a iiaige; a ta mar an g-ceadna aig brat air an anam mile SERMONS OF THE 71 lame, some blind, and others whose members were dry and withered with diseases ; methinks they are a figure ■ or pattern of the people who approach day after day to confession. They are like the blind, because they do not behold their sins, because they do not search and they do not examine their conscience ; like the lame, because they do not make a straightforward but a limping lame con- fession, covering over and even concealing the wounds of their soul. And I see them come without sorrow, with- out remorse, with a heart dry and withered, like those at the pond, that had been afiSicted with palsy. This is the cause, my friends, that leaves the confession of many without fruit, without profit. This is the cause why the miraculous fountain of penance does not always heal the wounds of our souls. And it is on this subject I purpose to speak to-day, for which end I divide the discourse into three points : 1. The confession is usually without profit when it is made without any examination of conscience. 2. It is without profit when the sins, as far as they are known, are not all told. 3. It is without profit when it is made without sorrow and without grief of heart. Hail Mary. First Poini — Just as the body is subject to a thousand kinds of disease that draw it to the grave, so the soul is subject to a thousand kinds of spiritual disease that draw it to hell — multipticatce sunt infirmUates eorum . — Psalm XV. Between the diseases of the body and those of 'the soul there is this difference, that each particular dis- ease of the body has its special cure ; but for every ail- ment and infirmity of the soul, Jesus Christ has appointed the sacrament of confession alone as a remedy and a 72 MOST BTjV. be. 0 all AGEE B. gné peacaid a tarraingeas se go Ifrionn Multiplicaics sunt injirmitates eorum (Ps. 15). Act, tá so de neam- cosamlact eidir aicidiB an coirp agns an anama nac Ira aid'd corporda ann, ’ná leigeas leit orta ; act ann agaid gac loit agns gac aicide tig air an anam, d’ orduig Criost sacramuint na faosidine amáin mar leigeas agus mar loc-slainte. — Confitemini alterutrum peccata wstra ut salvemini : loc-slainte si so, deirim, air nac saruigeann easlainte air bit dá guaiseactaige ; marBad, gold, árgain, losgad manaistreac agus teampuill. Dáanad duine gac gniom air olcas, deanad se an faoisidin, act de'anad si mar IS c(5ir, agus geaBfaid sé maiteacas agus maiteamnas ó Dia annta. Ná glac m’ focal-sa air so, a Criostaid, act glac focal Criost, aig Eon anns an ficeamad caibidil ann a n-geallann se do ’n Eagluis, a b-pearsannaiB na n-apstol nac B-fuil peacad air bit ihaitfead siad-san air talam nac maitfead se-san anns na Elaitis. — Quorum remiseritis pec- cata remittentur eis (Is. 20, 23.) Maisead, reir mar is leigeas ^ifeactac an faoisidin ann agaid nime an peacaid, is leigeas si a tá co riactanac sin aig an anam, air mod dá ruinnfead an peacac a substaint nile air na boictiB ; dá silfead se deora fola le aitreacas ; dá d-troisg£ead se air fead a saogail ; dá m-beidead se aig nrnaige go g-cait£ead se a teanga ; so, agus a mile oiread dá n-dean£ad se, ni full mart no tairBe dd ann gan an faoisidin, má tá ann a cumact a deanad. Agus muna g-creid£id tu mise ann so, creid an doctur 'naomta, San AiBistin, aig dearBugad nac B-£uil gar a n-dulás an croide act munar raiB adriiáil an Béil ann aice. — Nihil tibi pro- derit contritio cordis^ nisi sequaiur confessio oris, si possis. Dá m-beidmuis saor uile <5 peacad, ni Beidead Sacra- xnuint na Aitrige riactanac againn j act mar nac lia duina SERMONS OF THE 73 healing balm. Thig is a balm, I say, which the most dangerous infection or the greatest crimes that man has committed, cannot withstand, such as even murder, or robbery, or sacrilege, the burning of monasteries even or of churches. Let a person commit, say every deed that is reckoned for evil ; but let him make a confession of them, and let him make his confession as he ought with a hearty sorrow for sin, with a determination to avoid them, and with the other dispositions, and he will obtain pardon and remission from God. Do not take for this as- surance, my word, simply, Christians, but take the word of Christ, in St. John, 20th chapter, where he promises the church, through the apostles, that ‘hvhatever sins they shall remit on earth, they are remitted in hea- ven.” Well, then, as confession is so effectual an anti- dote against the poison of sin, it is an antidote really so necessary to the soul that if the sinner should distribute his whole substance to the poor ; if he should shed peni- tential tears of blood ; if he would fast during his whole life; if he were praying until he should wear his tongue, all this, and a thousand times as much, would be of no effect or benefit without confession, provided it is in his power to make it. If you do not yield credence to me for the truth of this statement, believe the holy doctor St. Augustine, who asserts, that the sorrow of heart is of no avail unless accompanied by the acknowledgment of the mouth — Nihil till jjrolerit contritio cordis nisi se- quatiir confessio oris, si If we were free from sin the sacrament of penance would not be necessary ; but as mankind is not more numerous than sinners are on the earth, so no one can sny he is free from the obli- gations and duty of penance. It is true that many go to confession ; but alas ! few there are who profit as they 74 MOST BEV. LB. GALLAGHEB. air an t-saogal so ’na peacac, ni tig le aon duine a rad go l3-fuil sé saor 6 ceangal, agus 6 nalac na aitrige. la deimin go d-teid an lomad cum faoisidine, act, faraoir, la beag aca geiB a torad ; bid siad mar na daill snd an t-sitsgeil, aig Bull le leigeas air Bruac an uisge, act ni leur doiB an tobar. — Ocecorum. Teid siad air seilB faoisidin a déanad, act ni deanaid siad si, act go ánfann, easBuideac, ni’l ann act taiBse agus sgaile na faoisidine. O ! ná mealltar tu, a peacaig : ni scriosann faoisidin mar so, an peacad, act deanann si liieudugad. ISTi tarraingeann grad Dé orainn, act a iuat ; ni deanann ar siofccáin leis, act fearg a liieudugad ; air an adBar, rtiir mar nac nglacann fear na B-fiaca airgead mealltac uainn, mar dialuigeact, mar an g-ceadna, ni glacann Dia faoisidin f uar, mealltac, breugaó uainn, mar eiric annar b-peacaidiB. — Maledictus, quifacit opus Domini negligenier (Jer. 48, 10.) Maisead, nac faoisidin brciige do gnid an té a tá tugta d’ 61 agus do liieisge, do BreugaiB agus do mionnaiB mdra, do gnid mile smuainead driiisamail, salac, agus nac sta- dann o n-a g-cur ann gnioiii ; nac stadann a lam 6 gla- caireact trnaillid, no aBeul d pdgaiB mailiseaca; nac d-tig smuainead ann intinn act air an t-saogal ; a ta dioruis- geac, feargac, diogaltac. Tar eis beata mi-riagalta de ’n cineál so, tar eis a Beit bliadain, b’ feidir, agus tuillead, gan faoisidin ; an feidir leis an B-fear so aon muimeint no do aig sgriidad a coinsiais, na mdr-peacaid do cuimsiu- gad no a g-cur ann ordugad, lonnos go m-b’ feTdir leis a g-cur sios d’ a oide faoisidine ? O ! ni fdidir ; act muna nglacfaid aimsir tains so, ni deanfaid se faoisidin, act faoisidin loctac Beideas gan brig, gan torad, gan tairBe. Maledichis qui facit, d:c. An te gnid faoisidin minic, congBuigeas gárda air a ceudfaidiB, a sgrudas a coinsias gac oidce lonnos go SEBMONS OF TEE 75 ought by it. They are like the blind mentioned in the gospel, tarrying by the water in expectation of being healed, but yet cannot get a sight of the well. They go on the pre tepee of confessing, but they do it only after a faint, heedless manner, That class have not the full bene- fit of confession — they have only its appearance or show. Oh ! do not be deceived, sinner ; counterfeit confession of this kind, made without the due dispositions, does not abolish sin, but increases it. It brings not down God’s love upon ns, but his hatred ; it makes not our peace with him, but increases his wrath ; for as our creditors will not accept counterfeit money from us in pay- ment, so God will not accept from us a trepid, counter- feit, false confession as an atonement for our sins — • Maledictus quifacit epics Domini negligenter — Jer. 43, 10. Well, now, is it not a counterfeit confession the man makes who is given to drinking and to intoxication ; to telling lies and to swearing ; who gives way to a thou- sand libidinous, obscene thoughts, and hesitates not to carry them into effect; who keeps not his hands from im- modest touches, nor his mouth from unchaste kisses; a man into whose mind no thought enters but those that relate to the world, who is ^withal irascible, passionate, and vin- dictive. After a mis-spent life of this kind, after having been a year perhaps, and longer, without confession, is it possible for this man, in one moment or two, to ex- amine his conscience, or to form an estimate of the lead- ing sins, or to put them in order, so that he may accuse himself of these sins to his father confessor. Ah ! it is not possible ; if he take not more time than this to search his conscience, he will make no other confession than a confession of no use, one without fruit or benefit. He who goes to confession often, who sets a guard upon all his senses, who strictly searches his conscience each night in order that he may repent of the faults he has com- 76 MOST BEV. DR. GALLAGEER. n-d^anfad aitrige ann gac ole do rinne se an la sin, bid ann a diaig so agns uile, crib cos agus lain air, aig dul air a coinsias air ceist nac nglanfaid se a g-ceart, Maisead cad se eirocas do ’n te, leigeas sriau le n-a an- miantaiB, nac stadann 6 ole, nai sinuainigeann air an b-peacad no go d-tigeann m 'imeinfc sdd ann a d-tM se ann faoisidine ? 0 ! a ti, go g-cuireann se sios go minic an Hid nac n-deanann si, agus naé g-cuimiiigeann se air leat a n-deanann se. Ni leur do, na mir-sléibte sild a ti air a coinsias. Bid si mar na daill sud an t-sitsgiil, aig suil le caBair le linn corruigte an uisge, act se geiB se go minic a d-tobar na ngrisa a damnugad s'oruide ; Jacehit imiltU tudo ccecorum expectantiiim aqiix metum — (John 5, 3.) Cuir cuisde ann a snide air do coinsias deir an Doctur Naoiiita, San AiBistm. ISTa fag cluid, no coirneul de, gan cuartugad, ni go fuar, no go meallta, ni go spidanta no go atmaol ; Ascende irihiinal mentis tuce. Dearc air gac droc smuainead a rinne do croide, air gac droefocal a duBairt do teanga, air gac droi gnioiii a rinne tu ann agaid Dé, no do comarsan. Tar eis a n-iireaih agus a g-cur ann ordugad, sgeit siad aig barra na faoisidine. Na ceil aon peacad aca tri niire no mailis ; no mi gnidir ni Beid brig an d’ iaoisidin ; act se liieudocas tu do peacaid riir mar tairgfeas me a crutugad anns an dira punc. An Dara Punc — Se is faoisidin ann, a Criostaidte, casaoid a gnid an peacac air fe'in le Dia a b-pearsain sa- gairt, aig a m-bideann cumact absoluid no maiteaias a taBairtdoann a coireaiaiB. Maisead, ma’s casaoid si is Cijir a deanad le sagart aig a m-beid cuihact faoisidin d’ distea't, cad se mar sin a Beir orainn a dianad go mime le ruagaire-rata, le seanBuacaillidiB, agus le deoraidiB: Da m-beidead lot, no tinneas marBtac air do colain m' sé an SERMONS OF THE 77 mitted during the day, let him even, after all this, set about the work of his conscience with caution, lest he should not cleanse it in a proper manner. Then what shall become of the person who gives rein to his inordinate desires; who stops at no evil ; or whenever thinks of his sins till the moment he goes to confession? Why, he often sets down that which he has not com- mitted, and does not recollect half of what he has com- mitted. He does not see the huge mountains that lie on his conscience : he is like the blind mentioned in the gospel, seeking for relief by the troubling of the water; and he often drinks from the fountain of grace, eternal damnation. Set a guard upon thy conscience, says the holy Au- gustine. Do not leave a recess or corner without ex- amination, not with tepidity or deception, not with in- dolence or reluctance. Look to every bad thought that has entered thine heart ; to every evil word thy tongue has spoken ; to every evil action thou hast committed against God and thy neighbour. Having noted them in thy mind, and having set them in order, tell them out at the tribunal of confession ; do not conceal any one sin, through shame or confusion, for if you do, your confes- sion will be of no effect, but you will add to your sins, as I shall endeavour to prove in the second part. Confession consists in this, dear Christians, it is an accusation which the sinner makes against himself to God, as represented in the person of a priest who has re- ceived jurisdiction to give absolution, or pardon of sins. Well, if it. is an accusation, it is right, then, to make it to a priest who has jurisdiction to hear confession. What then influences some to go to a strolling priest ; or to those who are no longer in the active service of the sanctuary, or to some clergyman exiled from his diocese. If your body were afflicted with a deadly wound or sick- ness, it is not the worst physician you would choOfe for 78 MOST REV. DR. GALLAGHER. liaig IS measa togfa cum a leigeasta ; agus an d-togfaid tu an liaig is taire agus is measa cum cneadaca diogbálaca d’ anama do leigeas agus nac moide go m-bideann ugdaraa no cumact 6 ’n Eaglais aige absoluid tabairt duit. Beir tu le tuigsin leis so, gur b’ ansa leat do colan ’na an pearla nasal, d’ anam, agus go B-fuil tu neam-suimeamail ann do slanugad. Ma ’s geurán an faoisidin do gnidmuid orainn fein, cad se beir sinn, ann áit casaoide, gabail ar leitsgeil. Cad se beir sinn aig cur clóca agus atruigte dat air ar b-peacaidib? Cad as nac noctamuid creacta ar g-croide do liaig ar n-anama ma tá suil againn leigeas d’ fagail uaid. Cidfid tu an lomad mi-riagalta, loctac nac m-bideann le admail aca, an uair a tig siad cum faoisidine act neite eudtroma Buaraca ; agus má creideann tu a sgeul fein, ni siad is ciontac anns an ole do rinnead, agus fagaid go mur- mÓT a troime air duine eigin eile. Má beir siad mionna mora, ni raib ann act le linn lasain no feirge agus siad an clann, no an coihursa buain astu siad. Má bi siad a b-fad a d-tig an bil, ni ann geall ^air an dig act air an g-cuideact d’ birig sin dóib. Má cuir siad breis air an g-comarsain, ann a cliu no ann a maoin, ni raib se act eudtrom. An nid ceadna a d’ eirig do na bacaigib, a bi air sdil le leigeas le taob tobair Serusalem, agus nac b-fuair se, eirucaid do ’n droing so tig le faoisidin bacaig go barra na Triondide. Má tig leo leis na lejtsgdil cama so cldca cur air siiilib an t-sagairt tá a n-duil ann a cur air suilib an ard-breiteim, noc do cid, ni se amain an droc-gniom, act fds an smuainead is uaignig agus IS rdnaig bideas ann a g-croidtib.— Jace5ai mulUtudo magna claudorum expectantium agucB motum* SEBMONS OF TEE 79 healing your infirmity ; and surely you ought not to choose the most indifferent and the worst skilled physi- cian for healing the malignant wounds of your soul, or one who has, perhaps, no authority nor power from the church to give you absolution. By this you show that your love for your body is greater than your love for that noble pearl, your soul, and hence that you are quite indif- ferent about your salvation. If confession is a real plaint which we make against ourselves, why do we, instead of accusing, try to excuse ourselves? What induces us to throw a veil and to put quite a different color upon the sin ? Why do we not expose the wounds of our hearts to the physi- cian of our souls, as we expect to be healed by him ? You will behold a great many dissolute and wicked persons who when they come to confession have nothing to tell but slight or frivolous faultsj and if you were to take their own word for it, it is not themselves who are culpable in the evil that has been done, for they usually lay the weight of the faults on some other person. If they happen to swear, it was owing to some provocation or anger, and their children it was or their neighbours that provoked them to it ; if they happen to stay long in the tavern, it was not for sake of the drink, oh ! no, it was for the sake of the company ; if they injured their neighbours in re- putation or property, it was only trivial. The same fate that happened the lame, who sat in expectation of ^their cure and obtained it not, will happen to those people who - come in this way with a lame confession to the sacred tribunal. If possibly they may, with these apologies, blindfold the priest, of course they cannot blindfold the Sovereign Judge, who sees not only the bad deed, but even the inmost thoughts of their hearts. so MOST REV. DB. QALLAQEER. Is nil gnat do ’n mac-tire an uair a teid se fo an trend breit air sgornac air an g-caora agus an teanga a gearral aisti gan liioili, air ceiste go n-deanfal si méileaó, no tor- man, a muscolucad an treudaid Béirfad caBair di. Mar an g-ceadna do gnid an mac-tire gan tr.jcaire, an DiaBal, leis an lomad ; agus go sonralai le daoiuiB oga claonáireaca aig dul cum faoisidine ; air ceiste go musclocad siad treudaid a n-anama, Criost, le n-a n-dioraiB no le n-a n-osnaidiB Beir se air sgornaig orta, cuir glas air a d-teangtaiB, air mod nai no^tfaid a g-croidte ; ceilid loita a n-anama ; do gnid siad breug le Dia agus ni le dume. Agus má ti nac n-deanann Dia sompla follus dioB air a m-ball, aig iagail báis obann mar fuair Ananias agus Sapira, cionu gur ceil siad cuid de luaá an fearainn a Broun siad air na ápstoiliB, geiB siad air a son sin bis is measa mile uair, mar ti a n-damnugad go siorruide. Ni aon Buntaiste amain glacas an mac-tire malluigte so air an duine act an lomad : An niire bud ciir di a Beit air fo gniom gloniiiar salac, mar an b-peacad do deanad goideann se uaid si; ait co luat agus do gnid si an peacad agus gur mian leis innseact do ’n t-sagart, Beir se air ais an niire do, go dubalta : Air mod, an peacac rinne an droc gniom gan niire an uair is riactanac do se admail ni leigeann an niire do a innseact do ’u liaig, agus ni’l leigeas do gan innseact : Quod ignorat medicina non sanat — St Jerome. Oc, a peacaig Boict, fosgail do suile agus seacam lionta an spioraid malluigte so ; sgeit nim an peacaid as do croide gan moill, no biirfid se bis do d ’ anam. iioct go fosgailte gan fuigioll gan leitsgeul cneadaca d’ anama. Act noct siad le croide-Brugad agus tursa, no beid siad gan leigeas riir mar tairgfeas me crutugad anns an trimad punc. SEBMONS OF THE 81 The wolf, when he rushes on the flock, commonly seizes a sheep by the throat, and cuts the tongue out of her direclly, lest she make any bleating or noise that might alarm the shepherd, who would rush to her rescue. In like manner the merciless wolf, the devil acts with many, especially with young people, when they go to con- fession, lest they would alarm Jesus Christ, the shepherd of their souls, with their tears or their sighs. He seizes them by the throat — he locks up their tongue in such a manner that they open not their hearts to the priest ; they conceal the faults of their soul ; they tell lies to God, and not to man ; and’through God does not make a striking example of them on the spot by a sudden death, as he did to Ananias and Saphira, because they concealed part of the property which they had bestowed on the apostles, they shall get a death a thousand times worse, which is eternal damnation. It is not one advantage, but many, this cursed wolf — the devil — takes of man. The shame that ought to attend him at committing so heinous a deed as sin is, he steals from him; but as soon as one com- mits the sin, and is disposed to confess it to the priest, the devil doubly returns the shame he had before taken away; so that this sinner, who committed the bad deed without same or confusion, when now he should confess the foul deed, is ashamed to tell it to his physician ; and unless he does tell it, there is no possibility of his being healed. — Quod ignorat medicina non sanat. — St. Jerome. O ! thou miserable sinner, open now thine eyes and be- hold ^the snares of this evil spirit ; expel quickly the poison of sin out of thine heart, or it will be the death of thy soul. Lay open, without omission, without ex- cuse, the wounds of ^thy soul, but lay them open with real contrition and sorrow, or else they will be without remedy, as I shall endeavour to prove in the third place. Third Point — In the old law, according as we read in the book of Leviticus, whoever wished to offer sacrifice slew and skinned an ox, or bullock, washed the flesh 82 MOST HEV. BE. GALLAOHEE An Trimad Pune — An té le ar mian lodbairfc a d^anai do’n Tigearna anns an t-sean-ract, reir mar leigmuid a leaBar LeBiticuis, buain se aa croiceann de mart, nó de Bulan ; nig se an feoil go glan le uisge, agus tar éis a gearrad ann a mion-spollaid, cuir air an áltuir si ; cuir an sagart a láih os a cionn, cuir teine faoite agus do loisg se SI. Do gni’l io‘iba:rfc de^n cinaal so siotcáin an pobuil le Dia, niaolad fearg, agus d ^ umpuig gac sgiiirsa uata Mar an g-céadna, gas peacas, le ar mian a siotcáin a ddanad le Dia, deanad ss lodbairt d’a anam air altsir na faoisidine ; act sgriosad se dá a d-tus, an sgamall salas agus sean croiceann seargfca an peacaid, nigeal se si go glan le trom deora na aitrige, deanad se mion-spullaid de le croidebrugad, agus dolás inntine, fo fearg a cur air Í)ia agus aig árdugad a laiiiie do’n t-sagarfc os a cionn, aig rid na m-briatra sud, ego te absolvo, deanfaid an t-Atair eior- ruide síotcáin leis, saorfaid sé o’n mar-diogaltas a Bi ann a cionn ; mdcfaid na boirbueinte sui Ifrinn, a Bi air lasad laoi n-a comair; deargfaid teine na ngrisa ann a croide ; deanfaid sá a anam Bi co duB, glonihar, leis an diaBal, co lonrac, dealrac, le aingeal Is feidir leis an dolas so, a ta riactanac aig an faoisidin, Beit aig an duine air di mod. An ceud mod dioB, an airj a tais- beinas se a tursa agus a duB-bron, an taoB amuig, le n-a deoraiB agus le n-a ósnaiB. An dara mod, an uair a goil- leas air 6 croide an peacad do deanad, air son nac d-tais beinann si an taoB amuig. Ta an ceud dulis dioB so lonmolta agus ro tairBeac, act ni si gac aon le ar tig a deor a silead, an uair bud mian leis ; act ta an dira mod, si sin dilas an croide, co SEBMONS OF THE 83 quite clean" in water, and then cut it up into small pieces and laid the offering on the altar. The priest then raised his hands over it, put fire under it and burned it. A sacrifice of this kind causes the people to be again at peace with God j it appeases the divine wrath and turns away every threatened chastisment from them. It is after this manner that every sinner must act who wishes to make his peace with God. He must make an offering of his soul on the altar of confession, but he must first strip it of the foul scum, and the old withered skin of sin ; he must wash it with the heavy tears of sorrowful repentance ; he must cut it up into pieces with the sharpness of contrition and sorrow of soul for having offended God ; and then on the priest raising his hand over the penitent’s head, pronouncing at the same time the words of absolution (Ego te absolvo') the Eternal Fa- ther will make peace with him — will free the sinner from the great vengeance that was hanging over his head — will quench the burning flames of hell that were lighted for his reception — will light up the flames of divine grace in his heart, and will make that soul that was black and loathsome as the devil, bright again and as resplendent as an angel. A person may have that hearty sorrow which is neces- sary in two ways ; the first, when he shows externally by tears and sighs, his deep sorrow and bitter grief. The second, .when he is pained to the heart for having com- mitted sin, though he shows not this feeling externally. This first sorrow is to be highly commended, and is meritorious, but is not necessary, because it is not every 84 MOST BEV. LB. GÁLLAOHEB. riaitanac sm ann saciamuint na faoisidine, air mod munar raiB tursa agus dulás an croide ann a áice, nac faosidin si act faosidin magaid — faosidin gan Brig gan torad. Oc, a cairde, cad se liact agaiB tig, air an nair so, ann faosidine le dúlás ceart ? Cad se an mend agaiB, do gnid aitris air luct paralais an tobair tig cum Bur g-cuntuis le croide crion, tirim? — Aridorum. Cad sé an meud agaiB teid cum faoisidine gan atmaoltas gan criotnugad, amail agus mar Beidead siB dul a g-ceann gnatuigte saogalta ? An measann siB gur leor dioB Bur b-peacaid cur sios j air Bgát dulais no tuisa croide, ni Bideann aleitid de cuis ann. Is furus aitniugad air olcas do gnid siB Bur m-beata do leasugad, tar eis faosidine agus air easguideact a’s tuiteas biB anns na coirte céadna, ann a raiB siB ciontac rJimpi Nac B-feicamuid, go laetaiiiail, luct na mionna mdr co leigte ann a peacaid so, tar ^is faosidine a’s Bi siad a riam roime ? Nac B-feicamuid luct na druise co claon ann a peacaid so, ann diaig faoisidine ’s Bi siad a riam roime ? Nac B-feicamuid luct na meallturacta agus na gaduigeacta co leigte cum cuid na comursan, tar eis faoisidine a’s Bi Biad a riam roiiiie ? Cad se is ciall do so, a cáirde ? Oc ! tá easBa dolais do Beit orta 6 croide. Dá m-beidead fuat direac aca air an b-peacad, reir mar orduigeas an aitrige firineac, nior b’ eagal ddiB tuitim ann co luat so. Act cad se ^irócas do ’n muintir so, Beir easonoir do ’n faoisidin aig dul air seilB si a dcanad gan olmugad, gan dulas ? No cad se ’^irucas do’n muintir, a geaUas go minic do Dia le linn faoisidine, cul do taBairt do ’n peacad, agus a m-beata do leasugad ? Oc ! tá an t-sacra- muint so, d’ orduig Cribst, ann a Beit ’nn a loc-slamte aig an anam go d-tionntuigeann si ann a Beit ’nn a niih marBÍa’ aige. Do gnid Dia foigid leo, mar deir an faid ri^eaihail, air fead tamaill ; a‘t Beir Se siad cum cun- SEJIMONS OF TEE 85 one who can shed tears whenever he would ; but the second, which is an inward sorrow of heart is so necessary in the sacrament of confession, that unless it is accom- panied by sorrow and grief of heart, it would be no other than a vain confession j it would be a confession without fruit or benefit. Ah, my friends, how few of you come now to confes- sion with a sincere sorrow ! How many of you imitate the infirm at the pool, and come to render your account with a heart dry and parched ! How many of you go to confession without care or anxiety, as if you were going to some temporal business ! You think, perhaps, if you have told your sins that all is well, but as for con- trition, or for a hearty sorrow, there is no note of such thing. And this is easily known by the little amendment in your lives after confession, and by the ready sudden- ness with which you fall into the sins of which you were before guilty. Do we not see those addicted to swearing how prone they are to this sin after confession just as before they went ? Do we not see the lascivious as inclined to the foul vice as before ? Do we not see those who defraud and thieve as bent after confession upon depriving their neighbours of their property as before ? What must be the reason of this want of improvement, my brethren ? Oh ! it is a want of real sorrow for sin from their hearts ? If they had a real horror of sin, as true repentance en- joins, there would be no dread of any immediate relapses. But what will become of those who dishonour confes- sion, going under the pretence of making it, without any preparation, without sorrow ? Or what will become of those who often promise God in their confessions to abandon sin, and to amend their lives, and yet never make an effort to do so ? Oh how this sacrament, which Jesus Christ instituted to be for their souls a balm and a healing fountain, is changed into a deadly poison ! God extends his patience towards them for a time, as the royal 86 MOST BEV. EE. GALLAGHEB. tuis faoi deire. Amail a’e mar dearfad sé, an muintir so, do gnid breug liomsa anois, agus a geallas a m-beata do leasugad agus nac n-deanann se, éistfid mise leo air fead tamaill ; leigfid me air a n-agaid siad anns an ole ; act tiocfaid an t-am, ann a g-cuir£aid mé siad a b-priosiln duimseac, dorca, ann nac m-beid de cuideact aca act diabail agus deaiiiain : nac g-cluin£id a g-clausa act mallacta agus dia-ihallugad ; nac m-bM de biad aca act teine, ruiB, agus aitreaca mine ; nac m-beid de dig aca act domblas, gairb£ion, agus gao nid da seirbe ; ann a m-beid teinte ’g a losgad, teannacra ’g á strdcad ; diabail ’g a suistriugad ; aitreaca nime ’g á n-ite ; agus sin uile gan tdirigtm no £urtact, co £ada agus beideas Dia a’ caitead gluire. O, a Criostaid, air a raib de droc-ád, tuitim a luBra an peacaid, ná codail air cnead d’ anama ; imig gan moill go tobar na n-grasa, an faoisidin, ann a B-£uig tu iocslainte ann agaid gac luiBre, agus gac loit. Na ábair mar an dume boct sud an t-sitsgdil, nac B-£uil duine agat a cuir£eas anns an tobar tu. So, losa Criost, a g-crann na croice, agus a laiiia sinte £a do comair cum do glacaid, co luat agus umpdeas tu Air. So, aingeal De, an Eagluis cum an t-msge do corrugad, £a do comair ; le tarruig mar sin le ddteus agus le misneac, act tarrmg ddlás agus tursa croide. Adiiiuig do peacaid, gan leitsgeul, gan £uigioll, agus geiB£id tu d Dia Idigeas na ngrasa anns an t-saogal so, agus an gloir siorruid anns an t-saogal eile. Amen. SEBMONS OF TEE 87 propliet says, but he brings them to an account at last. As if He had said : those who at present lie to Me, and who promise to amend their lives and yet do it not, I shall bear with them for a time ; I will let them go on in their iniquities ; but the time comes when I shall cast them into a dark, dismal prison, where they will have no other company than devils — ’where their ears will have nothing to hear but curses and blasphemies — where their food shall be no other than fire, sulphur, and serpents — where their drink shall be none other than gall, worm- wood, and everything most bitter ; where fire shall be consuming them, racks tearing them, serpents gnawing them ; and all that without intermission or relief, whilst God abides in eternal glory: — “ Depart from Me ye cursed into everlasting fire.” — Matt. v. 41. Oh, Christian ! who hast had the mishap to slip into the leprosy of sin, do not any longer slumber over the sores of thy soul ; hasten without delay to that fountain of grace, confession, where thou wilt find health against every contagion and infirmity. Do not say, like the poor mentioned in the Gospel, that thou hast no one to put you into the fountain. Behold Jesus Christ on the cross, with his arms extended to receive thee as soon as thou wilt re- turn to him. Here is the angel of God, the church, ready to move the waters for thee. Come then with hope and confidence; but come with contrition and sorrow of heart ; confess thy sins without excuse or omission, and thou wilt obtain from God in this life the healing medicine of grace, and glory eternal in the life to*come. Amen. AN OmGílM) SEANMOIR GO S-FUIL AN AITRIGE RIACTANAC AGUS EIFEACTAC Nisi pcenitentiam habneritis, omnes shnititer perihilis. Act mar n-dean£aid siB an aitrige beid siB uile caillte— ^ Briatra Criost, aig Lucas anns trimad ranq de’n trimad caibidil deug. An uair bud mian le AitreacaiB Naomta an t-sean-ract a luct éisteacta do gluaseacfc ann aitrige, ann ait sean- m(5ir n(5 bnatra do déanad, rmneadar lísáid de nid ágin uatBásac, cum croidte an pobuil do consgrudad. Cean- gluigad cuid aca siad fein le sTaBraid, agus do cuirad cuid eile aca saic garBa air a g-cnáis, luaitreanián air a g-ceann, agus leigad siad na uile garta gola a B-f lagnuis an pobuil lonnós go ngluaisfad siad siad cum truaig agus turaa. So an t-slige glac an £aid naomta, Seremias, ann a^pobuil ÉaBra dp gluasact cum aitnge ann allód. Do meas, gan amrus, na daoine naomta so, nár mdr d(5iB dsaid do d^anad de nid ^igin eile do Beidead nios brigmaire agus ni'os Meactaige lona briatra, ann croide cruaid an peacaid do consgrudad. Maisead, air a son ^so, déan£aid mise usaid an dm de mo caint, mar siiil go d-tioc£ad liom siBse, a cairde, a gluasact ann aitrige. Act de Brig go d-tuigim gur lag an baranta, mo Briatra £án amáin ann so do dean ad, glac£aid mé mar cuidiugad na briatra bagaraca sud Criost, aig taBairt £uagraid do doman, a5t muna n-dean£aid siad an aitrige go m-beid SERMON V. ON THE NECESSITY AND EFFICACY OF PENANCE. “ Except ye do penance^ ye shall all alike perish ” — Luke, c. xiii., V. 3. When the Holy Patriarchs, in the old law, had a desire to incite their hearers to repentance, instead of speech or words, they made use of some other certain strange means, in order to move the hearts of the people to com- punction. Some of them used to bind themselves with chains ; others to gird their loins with coarse sackcloth, and put ashes upon their heads, sending forth the while most lamentable crying and roaring before the people, in order to excite them to sympathy and sorrow. This was the means by which the Prophet Jeremiah was in the habit of moving the Israelites to penance. Those holy persons considered, no doubt, that it be- hoved them to make use of some means that would be more effectual and efficacious than words to move the ob- durate hearts of sinners to compunction. Nevertheless I shall make use of language this day, to excite you, my brethern, to repentance. But as I know that my own words alone are inadequate to accomplish this, I shall take to my assistance the threatening words of Jesus Christ, in the text, which gave warning to all the world that unless “ they do penance, they shall all alike perish.” Surely that man must be quite insensible whom these words would not alarm and move to sorrow and repen- tance. 90 MOST REV. DR. GALLAOHER. siad uile caillte — "Nisi 'poeni’entiam halueriUs omnes simile terperihitis (Luc. 13, 3). Agus air n-doig, is duine gan ihotugad nac ngluaisfad i?a briatra sud ann dulas agus aitrige. Tug Dia da clar do ’n duine, ann a taBairfc saBailte go cuan Pártais trid fairge Baogala^ an t-saogail so, mar a tá clar an Baisde agus clar na aitrige. An té nár truaillig agus nár saluig a coinsias le peacad 6 baisdead se, BeTrfaid an ceud clár sáBailte sé go longpoirfc na gloire. Act duine air bit a saluig leis an b-peacad aibid na ngrasa fuair se lé linn baisde, ni full slig air bit no meodan aige lé sá f^in do saBail air Batad agus air damnugad sioruid act an aitrige. Is air an oibliogaid so is mian liom-sa tract an diu tar eis mo coiiirad do ruinn ann dá punc. A tá an aitrige riactanac aig uile duine a tuiteas a b-peacad mar- Bta tar eis baisde — Sin an ceud punc. Ata an aitrige brigriiar tairBeac : sin an dara punc. An ceud punc — An uair a Bideas an colan, a cairde, ann easlainte, no a d-tinneas, ni teideann oileamuin no beata air bit ann socair di. Mar an g-ceadna, an uair a Bideas ann t-anam ann easlainte marBtac an peacaid ni teideann deignioiii no suBailce air bit ann socair di, d-taoB beata sioruid gan an aitrige. Cia b’ se a racfas go Loire, no go Baile-ata-cliat, is loiiida bealac is féidir do a deanad, act an peacac, a trial- las go cat air na naoiii go Part as neamda, ni full act aoii rod, aon t-slige, aon Bealac aniain, aige le leanmuin, se sin bdtar garB na aitrige. Maisead, ml creideann na peacaca an firinne so, is uatBásac go leigeann an eagla doiB an peacad, do deanad agus IS longantaig loná sin, ann diaig a deanta go n-d(^n, fad fad-coiiinuig ann. Is eagail liom gur easBa creidiih SEBMONS OF THE 91 God gave unto man two planks — Baptism and Penance to bring him safe to the heavenly harbour, through the boisterous sea of this world. The first plank will bring him who never forfeited his baptismal innocence safe to the haven of glory. But any person who has stained with sin the garb of sanctifying grace which he received in baptism, has no other means to save himself from perishing, and from eternal damnation, but penance ; and it is on the necessity of doing'^’penance that I shall now treat. I shall divide my subject into two parts. First — Penance is necessary for those who fall into mortal sin after baptism. Second — Penance is most powerful and beneficial. — Hail Mary. When the body, my friends, is diseased with malady or sickness, it will not be benefited by any kind of nourish- ment or foon. In like manner, when the soul is ill with the deadly malady of sin, without penance there are no good works or virtues which can prove beneficial to it for obtaining eternal life. Alas ! in how many ways are we perpetually drawn to sin, by the suggestions of the evil spirit, by the allure- ments of the world, and by the depravity of our nature. Well, then, we have no other way to get out of sin but by penance. Were you to go to Derry or to Dublin, you might take different routes; but the sinner who wishes to go to the heavenly Jerusalem, to the celestial paradise has but one road, one way, one path, to tread, that is, the rugged road of penance. If, then, sinners really believe those truths, is it not strange that they are not afraid to be guilty of committing sin ; and is it not still more as- tonishing, after their guilt, how they obstinately remain in 92 MOST BBV. LB- 0 ALL AGREE. Beir orta, a Beit co dana so aig deanad an peacaid, agns CO spadanta so aig deanad na aitrige ; agus de Brig sin, IS mian liom an firinne diada so crutugad anois, air an adBar daoine caillte siB muna g-creiddd siB si, agus is daoine caillte siB muna g-cuirfaid siB ann gnioiii si. An Dia ceadna, a deir ^inn nac slánócar siun gan crei- deaiii — sine fide autem impossihile est placere Deo (Keb. 11 — deir linn go B-£uil sinn caillte gan an aitrige — Nisi pcBnitentiam halueritis, omnes similiter peribiiis. Nior abair se, act muna n-dean£aid siB an aitrige beid siB mífortunaó anns an t-saogal so, racfaid siB go purgadóir^ ni Beid an oiread de ’n gloir sioruid agaiB a B-Flaite^ amnas agus a Beideas aig daoiniB eile ; act se deir se, muna n-dean£aid siB an aitrige, agus maitead do ’n t-saogal so air son an t-saogail a tá lé teact, tá siB riiid le n-a sonas ; ni fin siB a dul go purgadoir fein; Ifrionn Beideas ann lonad coiiinuig agaiB, damn- (jcar siB uile, pianta sioruid a dligtear daoiB air son Bur neam-aitrige — Si poenitentiam non liabueriiis, do. Tug Dia aitne spesialta do Eon Baisde, aig téact 6 ’n B-fásaig an aitrige do seanmoir do na daoiniB,-nid do rinne sé go duractac. Tainic Mac DB £ein ’nna diaig, agus is air an aitrige rinne se a ceud seanmBir — Pcenitentiam tigite appropinguavii enimregnum Coelor?im — (Matt 4, 17) Nior raiB eagla air go n-dear£ad an pobul itiomradac leis^ Si an t-seanmBir, ceadna Bi aig Eon Baisde, a tá aig an B-£ear so. Cad £a nár duBairt nid nuad linn ; tá sinn tursac de ’n t-seanmBir so.” Nior cuir an Seai.moraid Diada so áirde air a leitid so dc caint. Is mu do dearc se air riactanas, ’na air an mian eag-criona Bi aca. Sian t-seanmóir ceadna a d’ orduig se do na ápostoiliB a déanad, agus is leis an t-seanmuir so d’ lompuig siad do ’n SEBMONS OF TUE 93 it. It is to be feared the want of faith makes them au- dacious in committing sin and slothful in doing penanco I intend, therefore, to show that you all will be lost, if you do not believe in it ; or that whilst you believe it, you do not put it into practice. The same God who tells us there is no salvation with- out faith (Heb. xi. 16), tells us that we are lost without penance: “Unless you do penance, you must all alike perish.” He does not say, “ Unless you repent, you will be unfortunate in this life, you will go to purgatory, you, will not have so large a share of eternal glory in heaven as others.” What he says is : “ Unless you do penanco and forgive this world and the people of this world, for the sake of the world to come, you are done with its happi- ness ; you are not even worthy to go to purgatory — hell must be your abode — you all will be damned — eternal torments shall be your inheritance.” God gave a special command to St, John the Baptist on his coming from the desert, to preach penance to the people, which he diligently performed. The Son of God himself came after him ; and it was on penance that He first preached — Matt., iv 17. He did not fear that the people might murmur, saying^ — “ It is the same subject which John the Baptist made use of that this man gives ns,” or that they might say, “ This is no novelty to us we are weary of this subject.” This divine preacher did not pay any heed to observa- tions of this kind. He looked rather to the necessity in which they stood of penance than to the unwise wishes in which they may have indulged. It is the same ser- mon he ordered the apostles to preach, and it is by preach- ing in this way that they converted the whole world to 94 MOST BEV. DB. 0 ALLA QBE B. creideam, an doman uile. “ Cad se deanfam,” a deir an pobul le Peadar, domnac Cincise ? Pcenitentiam agite^ (Act 2, 38). Deanaid an aitrige. Sin sé an crioc agus deire do cuir se air a seanmoir. Is SI an crioc ceadna a cuir Pól air a diospdireact le feall- sanaig págánta na Átens. lonnds go g-cuir£ead ann admail ddiB gur di-maoin a raiB de tuigse agus d’ árd- eolus aca, munar raib fios aea an aitrige a d^a^ad. Ta Dia, a deir se, aig tabairt sgáil do ’n uile duine, agus an gac ait, aitrige a deanad. — -Nunc annunciat Deus Jiominibus ut omnes xibiqiie loo&nitentiain agant — (Act 17, 30). A mail agus mar dear fad sé, ni slánócar siB, an págánao no an Criostaid, an feallsanac, no an neani-eolac, an rig, no an t-impearóir, an maigistir no an feadmanac, an tuata no an t-eaglaiseac, gan an aitrige. Duine air^bit, a cuir a C1Í1 le Dia aig deanad an peacaid, ni full atrugad so de slige lefillead air Dia aige, agus má glacann se atrugad beallaig beid sé air seacran sioruid 6 Plaiteas agus is se Ifrionn deire a ciirsa. Fiafruig de na Aitreacaib Haoiiita a tainic romainn, agus leig gac mor-obair [do sgriobadar, ni geibfid tu taob no duilledg annta nac d-tráctann air riaetanas na áitrige ; agus d’ a brig sin, do bi siad aig seanmdir na aitrige air fead a m-beata le briafra agus lé gniom. D«ir na diadairid an nid ceadna. Dearbuigeann Haom Tomas Aingealac nac feidir an peaead marbta a sgrios gan an aitrige. Impossible est peccalum mortals actuale sine posnitentia remitti (P. 3, Act 38, in Corp.) Má IS lag leat an t-ugdaras so, a Criostaid, ^ist le com- airle na Treinte, a bi brostuigte leis an Spiorad Naoih, ann a raib cor agus tri ceud easpoc as gac uile rann de *n doman catoiliceac, a bi ’nn guide naoi m-bliadna deug le SERMONS OF TEE 95 the faith. What shall we do,” say the people on pen- ficost Sunday to the Apostle, Peter. “ Do penance.” — Acts 2 V. 38. That was the peroration and the final sentence of his discourse. It is the same finale that St Paul put to his disputations with the Pagan philosophers of Athens. In order that he might put it before them as a matter to be publicly ad- mitted, he declared that their science and great learning were all vain, unless they knew also to do penance. God is now giving warning, said he, to every individual, and in every place, to do penance : Nunc annunciat Ecus liom- inihuSj ui omnes iilique poenitentiam agant. — Act. 17, 30, Just as if he had said — Ye will not be saved, pagan or Christian, philosopher, or untaught peasant, king or em- peror, master or servant, lay or cleric, without penance. The person who, by committing sin, turned his back upon God has no other way open to him to return to God except penance, and if he adopt any other way he will be a wanderer for ever from the path that leads to heaven ; and hell will be the end of his course. Ask the Holy fathers who have come before us, and read the volumnious works which they have left for our instruc- tion, and you will not find a page or a leaf of their writ- ings which treats not of the necessity of penance ; and therefore they were ever during their lives preaching pen- ance, both by word and by example. The angelic doctor, St. Thomas assures us that mortal sin cannot be wiped out but by the tears of penance. If you deem this authority not sufficiently strong, dear Christians, there is another stronger still, the holy Council of Trent, which was under the guidance of the Holy Ghost, a Council in which there were over three hundred 96 MOST BEV. LB. GALLAOEEB. ordugad an Papa. Bi an aitrige, deir siad, riactanaú aig an uile duine ó tus an domain a truaillig a anam, — leis an grasa agus an fírinnteaót d’ fagail air ais. Fuit autem poeriitentia universis liominihus qui se peccato mortali in- quinassent qioovis tempoi'e necessaria, ad gmticim et justl tiam obtinendam. — Sess. 14. Is feidir peacad marBta a maitead gan Sacramnint Coirp Criost. Is feidir a sgrios gan absoloid. Is feidir a dibirt gan sacramnint air bit an uair nac m-beid faill aig duine a nglacad. Act nior maitead a riaiii agus ni maitfear go brát peacad marbta air bit gan aitrige. Cuir a g-cás go b-fuil tu a leaba an Báis, ni fuil Sagart le fagail a Béirfad an absoloid duit, a Bárfad do Tigearna duit, a cuirfad an Ola ort ; sgairt air í)ia, agus sgairt air, 6 croide, dean an aitrige, act dean si mar is coir ; dean si air grad Dé ; bidead dólás ort faoi do peacaid, an meud go B-fuilid ann agaid maiteasa agus naoiiiacta DB, bidead fonn ort sagart a Beit agat da m-beidead se ann do cumact ; maitfaid Dia do peacaid duit ma rinne tu an aitrige de Brig nac raiB atrugad de Beallaé agat an maiteacas d’ fagail ; be'id tu son a, seunamail, air fead na siorruideacta. Do Bi duine naoiiita air an B-flsac d’ar b’ainm Macarius do geall do na ditreaBaiB eile a Bi air an B-fasac go n-dean- fad seanmoir doiB la áiride ; tame se ann na aite an la do geall, agus se tus do cuir se air a seanmt)ir na sruta deor, a dortad go lioniiiar farsuing ; agus an uair do conaire se gur raiB longantas orra fo se Beit leaniiiumt do ’n gol sin, agus gan aon focal ailiain do laBairt, duBairt fo deire na briatra so “Deanamuis aitreacas, a dearbratraca bidmuis aig siorgol go geur anois d’ eagla go m-beidead Sinn aig caoid agus aig gol air fead na siorruideacta.” SERMONS OF THE 97 or two hundred bishops assembled from every part of the Catholic world, and which, by the authority of the Popes, held its Sessions during the period of nineteen years. “Since the beginning of the world, penance,” say they “ is necessary for every individual who has defiled his soul with the stain of mortal sin, if he hope to obtain again grace and justice.” Mortal sin can be remitted without the Sacrament of the Body of Christ. It can be effaced even without ab- solution. It can be driven away without any Sacra- ment when one has not an opportunity of receiving them ; but there never was yet remitted, and never will, any mortal sin be remitted, without penance. Suppose, for a moment that you are on the bed of death ; there is no priest to be had who is to give you absolution ; who is to administer to you, your dear Lord in the Sacrament ; that there is no priest to anoint you : cry out and call upon God ; cry out to Him from your heart. Do penance, but do it in a fitting way; do it for love of God ; have sor- row for your sins, in as much as they are opposed to the goodness and to the sanctity of God. Have the inten- tion, too, or desire to have a priest to whom, to make your confession if it were at all in your power. God will forgive you if you have thus done penance. You have had no other way left to obtain forgiveness; and, therefore, having complied with this order, you will be happy and blessed for all eternity. There was a holy person named Macharius, who dwelt, in days of old, in the wilderness. He had made a prom- ise to the other hermits in the solitude, that on a certain day he would preach to them a sermon. On the day ap- pointed he came to the place, and commenced his dis- course by shedding torrents of tears, fully and plentifully. When he saw that they were surprised at his continuing in this way to weep, and not to say even one word, he at length addressed them in the following words : — Let us 98 MOST REV. DR, GALLAGHER. Na bidead aiiirus agaiB, a cairde, gur tuit ceata deóra 6 smliB na n-daome naoihta sud aig clos na m-briatar so. Bidid cinnte, gur m(5, d’ oibrig deora Macarmis orra ’na da m-brisfad se a cliab agu? uct le seanmdir d(jiB. Da d-tiginn-se an diu, a cairde, le n-a leitid so de sean- m(jir, IS eagal liom gur beag oibrmgad do dtanfad si air Bur g-croidte cruada, clocaca-sa. Is deimin gur beag agaiB a silfad a n-deur : agus cad cuige sin ? A tá mar nao B-£uil an creidearh beo láidir agaiB-se a Bi aig an liiumtir Slid. Creideaiii lag fann a tá agaiB. Air an ad- Bar da m-beidead creideaih na naoiii agaiB, an feidir go m-beidead siB co neam-cilramaó faoi Bur n-anam agus a tá siB ? Da g-creidfad siB mar siad-san, nac d-teid aon duine go Fláiteas, a Briseas na aiteanta, muna n-dean- faid sá aitrige, ni féidir a rad go m-beidead siB co fail- ligeac ann a dc-anad agus ti siB. Hior tainic ariaiii daoine bud luga ciall ’na na Naoiiii so, nd tá siB-se air mire. Leigamuid a leaBar Seonais, go d-tug Dia ordugad do ’n Fciid so, dul go cat air NiniBe agus seanmdir do deanad annti — Vade in Ninivcm civitatem gmndem et proedica in ea (Jonas 3, 2). Act cad si an t-seanmdir measas siB rinne se do na PagdnaiB so, A ta seanmdir gearr atcuiii- air ; da n-deanfainn-se a leitid daoiB-se, a ta gaBail le Bur m-beit mar Criostaid, is beag amrus an aitrige a dean- fad siB leite. Tar CIS siuBal lae a ddanad anns an g-catair so, mar deir an Scrioptuir, tosuig se a seanmuir, agus duBairt na briatra so — Adhuc quadraginta dies et Ninive suhverle- tur (Jonas 3, 4). Fd ceann ceatracad lá d ’n dm sgrios- far NiniBe. Sin sd an meud a duBairt se de seanmdir. Oc ! a lÍLordact agus uilecuiiiact Dd ! cia le ar fdidir a Beit saor d longantas aig smuainead ort, o ’s tu fdin do SERMONS OF TEE 99 do penance, my brethren, let ns constantly cry and lament now in this life, lest we should cry and weep during eternity.” — Ploremus, fratres mei pi or emus amare in tempore, ne in (xternum ploremus. Bo not doubt, my friends, that a torrent of tears fell from the eyes of those holy people on hearing these words. Be assured that the tears of Macharius wrought more effectually upon them than if he had broken his bosom, or strained his lungs in preaching to them. If I should come to you, this day, my brethern, with such a sermon, I fear it wonld make little impression upon your hard stony hearts. It is certain that very few of you would shed tears ; and why so ? Because you have not the strong, lively faith that those people had; you have only a weak languid faith. If you had the faith of these saints, is it possible you would be so care- less about the affairs of your souls ? If you believe, as they believed, that no one enters the heavenly paradise who breaks the Commandments, and does not do penance? it is not possible you would be so dilatory as you are in performing it. Either there never were people who had less sense than those saints, or, you are out of your wits — yOu are mad. We read in the Book of Jonas, that God gave that prophet a command to go to the city of Nineveh, and to preach there a sermon, — Jonas, iii, 3. But what sermon think you did he preach to those Pagans ? It was a short and summary one. If I should come to you, who bear the name of Christians, with such an exhortation, doubtless, very little penance you would do. After a day’s travelling through this city, as the scrip- ture says, he began his sermon in these words — “ In forty 100 MOST BEY. DB. OALLAGEEB. gnid oirneis de na neite is tiire agus is uirisle, le neite mJra uatBásaéa do deanad os ceann náduire ; nid is soil- leur as an eisiomlar ata latair agamn. Tainic Seonas ann a caitreac moire so, duine de^raid air naó raiB eolus ; dume boot diblige air nac raiB meas foglaime, no crionacta, dume nac n-dearnaid miorBuile air bit ann a measg, a taBarfad meas do. Tainic se, a deirim, aig déanad seanmoire do págánaig aig nac raiB eolus no binn air Dia na firiune. Measfad dume gur b’ se an freagrad do Beirfad siad air, nac raiB eolus aca air a Ba- gairt — Nescio Dominum et minasejiis nihil euro (Exod. 5.) O ! ni se so an freagrad tug na NiniBitig air Seo- nas ; CO luat agus cualaid siad na briatra sud — Adliuc quadraginta, etc, glac criteagla siad roiiii an Dia so air nac g-cualaid siad tract go ti sin ; co luat a’s tainic an t-sean- muir go cluasaiB an Rig, tuirliun se anuas gan moill as a catair riogda agus teilg a cuid eudaig de. Sgairfc go árd air Dia, mar deir an scrioptiiir. Tug ordugad do luct na caitreac aitrige a dáanad. Troisgid, air se, eidir daoine agus eallac ; cuiread na daoine eadac-roin orra fein ; agus na smuainigdis gur leúr so do ddanad ; sgartadis air an Dia ciiiiiactac a tá bagart orainn. Ca fios nac Dia trd- caireac se ? Cá fios dá g-claocldcad sinn-ne ar m-beata nac g-claocl(5cad se-san a fearg linn, agus nac d-taBairfad maiteacas duinn fein agus d’ ar g-catraig. Cia le ar feidir a leitid so d’ aitrige a clos gan mdr- longantas a Beit air ? Cad se an cuma, measann siB a Bi air an luct caitreac so air an uair siid ? Cad se an buairead do Bi air fead an Bade go lomlan le girta daoine agus eallaig. Leanba aig gol agus aig caoid, aig larraid bid nac raiB le fagail aca ; daoine mdra aig crad a g-coirp le endaig barBa agus trosgad.^ Sin cugaiB aitrige na Nmi- SEB^IONS OF THE 101 days hence, and the city of Nineveh shall be destroyed.” That was all the sermon he made. O ! the greatness and almighty power of my God ! Who can be free from astonishment in thinking on Thee, Thou who makest instruments of things the most trifling and insignificant, to perform that which is great, extraordi- nary and supernatural — a matter which is plain from the example just before us. Jonas approached the great city quite a stranger, with out any acquaintance, without knowledge or wisdom, not even performing any miracle among them that could gain him credit. He came to preach to pagans, who did not know and did not care for the true God. It might be imagined, the answer which they would give him would be, that they had no knowledge of his God, nor did they regard his threat. Ah, no ! this is not the answer the Ninevites gave Jonas. As soon as they heard these words — “ In forty days hence,” &c., they were immediately struck with fear before this God of whom they heard nothing till then. As soon as these words came to the king’s ears, he immediately came down from his royal throne, threw off his robes, he called aloud on God as the Scripture narrates the fact ; he gave orders to the in- habitants of the city to do penance, ’ Let them all fast said he, people and beasts ; — let the people put on sack- cloth ; and let them not deem that sufficient — let them call upon the powerful God who threatens us — who knows, if we would only reform our lives, but that He would avert His anger from us, and would pardon our- selves, and spare our city. Who can hear of such penance without being greatly astonished ? What a state of sadness was the city in at that time ? What tribulation was throughout the whole town, with the groans of people and the lowing of cattle ? children crying and weeping for food which they could 102 MOST BEV. DR. GAIlAORER. Bitig, do 13Í CO taitneaniac sin a B-fagnuise De, air mod, gur stád Dia a lam agus gur umpuig uata gac diogaltas a BÍ sá do tnall cuca — Miserlus est Veus super malitiam, quam locutus fuerat et non fecit — f Jonas, 3, 10). 0 Aitrige, 0 suBáilce Neaihda ! cia nac n-gradócad tu ? Cia nac n-deanfad tu ? Is sona siB-se, a luct cai-’ treac NmiBe, noc do rinne aitrige co Basga Bifeaitac so agus nir dearc siB air dirisle an t-seanmdraid ajt air mdract agus air liidr-cumact an td a cuir ’g a ddanad se. Cuirim a g-cas, a cáirde, go d-tiocfád seanmdraid cugaiB- se ann ainm De, agus go n-dear£ad lib, go sgriosfad Dia de ’n talaiii siB fo ceanu ceatraóad la mar u-dean£ad siB aiireacas. Cuir a g-cas go n-deirfad se' liB go raiB sib air seacrin, go raib sib maineaétnac a b-fe'admánais Dd j fiaf- ruigim dib, an deanfad sib aitrige ? Bdirfaid me £din freagrad air bur son, agus deirim, gid gur mime a dubairt an t-atair faoisidine le fear na mionna mdr, agus le gac aon ede noc do bi tugta do leanán air bit peacaid, act muna d-tabairfaid siad cul ddib, agus a m- beat a do leasu- gad, go raib siad caillte, damanta, agus gur b’ sd do gnid Biad ann diaig gac raba agus gac bagairt, a b-peacaid a dublugad, agus peacad cur air mum peacaid. Act má tá aiiirus agaib nac 6 Í)ia tig an t-oide faoisi- dine, agus nac 6 Í)ia tig an seanmdraid, deinm lib gur mdr a tá sib meallta. Agus dearbuigim daoib gur le ug- daras agus teactaireact Criost a taim fe'in aig teact cugaib an diu. Briatra Criost aig Lucas, ’s an triinad caibidil deug a tá md aig innseact daoib — Paniitenticim agite ; de- anaid an aitrige. Sin mo seanmdir ; sin mo teactaireact. An Dia ceadna a tug ordugad do Seonas a dul go Ninibe, IS le n-a ordugad agus le n-a ugdaras a táim-se teact cug- aib-se an dm. Cualaid sib an aitrige do rinne na Nini- SERMONS OF THE 103 Dot receive ; people of position and rank mortifying their flesh with coarse haircloth and fasting. Such was the Ninevites’ repentance, which was so acceptable before God, that He stopped His hand, and withdrew every kind of vengeance which He had been ready to pour out upon them. 0 penance ! 0 heavenly virtue ! who would not love thee ? Who would not perform thee ? Fortunate are you ye Ninevites, who did penance so speedily and so effectu- ally, who did not look to the mean appearance of the preacher, but to the majesty and the mighty power of the Being who sent him to preach. 1 put this as a case, my friends, that if a preacher should come, in the name of God, among you, and tell that in forty days hence, God would extirpate you from the face of the earth if you would not do penapce. Suppose he should tell you that you are going astray that you are negligent in the service of God, I ask you would you do penance ? I shall answer for myself, and say, that oftentimes the confessor has admonished the swearer, and others addicted to any habitual sin, if they would not renounce them and reform their lives, that •they were in a state of damnation ; and yet, what do they, after all these warnings and threateuings, do but re- double their crimes, and heap sin upon sin. But, if you doubt that your father confessor or the pastor who preaches has been sent by God to warn you of your danger and exhort you to do penance, you are greatly mistaken ; for, I assure you, that it is by Christ’s authority, and on His message, I come myself to you this day. The words of Jesus Christ, in St. Luke, 13th chap- ter, I am telling you — pmnitentiam agite, do penance. That is my sermon ; that is my message. It is by the command and authority of the same God that commanded Jonas to go to Nineveh, that I come to you this day. You have just heard of the Ninevites’ penitence, through Jonas s 104 MOST BEV. DB. OÁLLAGHEB. le teactaireajt Seonais. Act ci l3-£uil Bur n-atri^e- se ? Ca B-fuil Bur n-deora ? Ca B-fuil Bur d-tursa ? Tug Dia ceatracad lá do na NmiBitig 1’ agaid aitrige a deanad — Adhiic qucLclrajinta, &c. Act mo truaig, ni t]g liom-sa leat na áimsire a taBairt dioB-se. Ni tig liom a rád nac m-beid me fein, ni airigim siB-se faoi ceann deic lá ann mo Biad peist agus cnuddg. Agus d’a Brig sin, IS coir daoiB-se agus dam-sa an aitrige a dé^anad. Is cdir duinn tiontugad air Dia le uiiilact agus tursa croide agus ni BM fuigeal air an tairBe a geiB sinn uaid, reir mar tairgfeas me crutugsd. anns an dara punc. An dara punc — Is mi'r an nid a glacas a laim, an uair a geallas brig agus eifeact na aitrige a liiiniiigad daoiB. Nid se, a tá do-déanta aig mo lag mntleact-sa, act muna B-£uig me cuidead o’n ihuintir a Blais milseact agus tairBe na suBailce murluaig so ; se sin, an liiuintir a Bi air Bruaó a Beit caillte, Bi air Bruac a Beit dimanta, no go d-tuga- dar agaid air í)ia aig dáanad na áibige. Má íiatruigim de ’n aitrigeac rigaiiiail DiiBid cad se tairBe na áitrige, diar£aid. liom, gar b’ si saBiil si air I£rionn, gur b’ siad a deora agus osnaid a liagas an cnead liiarBtac a d’ fag peacad an adaltranuis air anam, agus rinne se deas sonrac, glorihar, 6 n-a Beit grana glonn- riiar — Cor contritum et liumiliatuni Deus non despicies (Psal. 50, 19). Má fia£ruigim de Muire Magdalen cad' se do dibir na seact n-diaBail a Bi a seilB a ánariia, no d’ árduig si go Pairtas tar eis a beata sganalaig — Midier qiioe erat in civikde peccatrix (Luc. 7, 37) — dear£aid si liom, gau anirus gur b’ siad troiii-deora na áitrige le ’r nig si cosa Criost, do nig anns an am ciadna a anam 6 ’n uile salacar peacaid — Lachrymis ccepit rigare pedes ejus — (Luc. SERMONS Of THE 105 message ; but your penitence, where is it? where are your tears ? where is your sorrow ? God gave the hTinevites forty days for doing penance ; but, I am sorry to say, I cannot promise you half that time ; I cannot certify that myself, much less you, will not ill ten days hence become the food of worms and maggots ; and, therefore, it behoves you and me to do penance. We should return to God with humility and a real contrition of heart ; and there will be no end to tho benefit we shall derive from it, as I shall endeavour to prove in the second part. 2nd — I do, indeed, undertake a great work when I pro- mise to describe to you the power and effect of penance; it is a thing most difiicult to my weak capacity, unless I obtain some aid from those who tasted the sweetness, and experienced the benefit of this inestimable virtue ; these who were on the point of being lost, who were standing on the precipice of hell, until they returned to God by penance. If I were to inquire of the royal peni- tent, David, what the fruit of penance is, he would tell me it was it that saved him from hell ; that it was hia tears and his sighs that healed the deadly wound which the sins of adultery and murder had left on his soul, and rendered it beautiful, pure, and glorious, from being black, odious, and filthy. Psalm 50, 19 — Cor contritum et hum- Uiatum, J)eus, non despioies. If I should ask Mary Magdalen what banished the seven devils that possessed her soul, or what raised her to paradise, after her scandalous life, she would tell me, no doubt, that it was by her abundant tears of repentance wherewith she washed the feet of Jesus, and, at the same time, her soul from all filth of sin. — Luke, vii. Was it not the shame and sadness, the repentance and the sor- 106 MOST BEV. DB. QÁLLAGEEB, 7, 38). Naó sd an naire agus an tursa, an t-aitreacas agus an dólás Bi air Peadar rinne a siotcán le Criost tar ^is a seunta tri úaire ? Siad gan aiiirus, agus a geiBfad maiteacas do ludas da n-deapfad an nid c^adna — Et egres- sus Petrus for as, flev it amare {Luc. 22, 62). 0 SuBailce Neaiiida na Áitrige ! a druideas Ifrionn agus fosglas Parrtas, cuireas solas air na áingliB agus dólás agus dibirt air na diaBail, Beireas buaid a mod éigin air an te nac feidir buaid a Breit, mar a tá Dia uile ciíiiiactaó ! Oc ! nac B-faigim 6 í)ia mar grasa aitris a dííanad air Mag- dalen agus air í)áiBi, agus reir mar leanas siad anns an b-peacad a leamiiuint mar an g-ceadna anns an aitrige. — Qai seculus es errantem, seqiiere poenitentem {St. Ami'). Tug Dia ordugad do ’n faid, Eseciel, brice do taBairt cuige agus catair Serusalem a tarraing air, agus tar eis a tarraingie, foslongpuirt a cur leite, agus a ballaid a reubad agus a Brisead ann an taliiian . — Sume tibi laterem et pones earn coram te et descriles in eo civitatem Jerusalem {Ezec. 4 1). Sé cialluigeas, a cairde, an catair so Serusalem, go run-diamarac, an duine, agus sé cialluigeas an fúslongpoirt so d’ orduig se a cur leite, an diogaltas agus. an sgrios a cuireas an Ceart Neaiiida leis an b-peacac. Act is fiosac siB gur feidir gac nid tarraingtear air Brice glas gan trimmgad, a millead gan liioill agus a nigead le beagan uisge. Maisead ma’s mian leat-sa a peacuig, an foslong- póirt laidir sud a ta aig Ceart Da le d’ anam a tugBáil ; ma’s mian leat na soigide niiiie a tá a Mini Dc ann do tollta do seacaint ; ma ’s mian leat imeact ó cloideam diogalfcac an da faoBair, a tá os do cionn, nig brice d’anama le trom-deúra na áitrige. Aon deor amain ó croide le grad air Dia agus le fuat air an b-peacad, liiaolfad sé na áirm millteaca sud, deanfad se do siotcán le Dia, geiBfad air ais SIJRMONS OF TEF 107 t'ow, whicli overwlielmed Peter, tliat made his peace with Jesus Christ after he had denied him three times ? Surely it was, and it would have obtained the same for Judas, if he had done in like manner — Luke, xxii. O heavenly virtue of penance which shuts out hell and opens paradise ; which causes the angels to rejoice, and devils to be put to shame and flight ; that conquers, in a manner, the Being who cannot be conquered — God Almighty Himself. Oh ! that I could obtain from God as a grace to imi- tate, in penance, Mary Magdalen — and holy David ; and as I followed their example in sinning, that I might fol- low their example in doing penance. God gave orders to the prophet Ezechiel to take a brick and to draw out thereon the city of Jerusalem ; and after he had drawn a miniature of it, to lay siege around it, and then to break down its walls and level them to the earth. Now, what the city of Jerusalem means, in its mystic sense, is the soul of man, and that siege which God ordered the prophet to lay around the city is — the ven- geance and the destruction which the justice of heaven has in store awaiting the sinner. But you know anything that is pourtrayed on a plain undried tile can be easily effaced and washed off with a little water. Then, sinner, if you desire to avert the strong siege which the justice of God lays to thy soul — if you desire to avoid the venemous darts that are in the hands of God ready to pierce thee — if you desire to escape the vengeful two-edged sword that hangs over your head, wash the tile of thy soul with the flowing water of penance. One tear from the heart, shed for the pure love of God, and an act of detestation of sin, would blunt these destructive weapons — would make thy peace with God, recall the sentence of damna- tion pronounced against thee at the moment thou didst commit sin, and would, as it were, bind up the hand of God from injuring thee. O, rich man, mentioned in the gospel, if you had shed in time but one penitential tear 108 mST BEY. I)B. QALLAGBEB. an Breit-damanta tugad ort anns mdimeint ceadna rinne tu an peacad, agus ceangalfad, am ail agna mar dárfainn, lama Dé, 6 diogBáil air bit a déanad duit — Convertimini ad me et scilvi eritis omnes fines tem'ae (Isa. 45, 22). Oc ! a duine saidBir an t-sitsgáil, da silfa ann am act aon deor amáin aitrige, cosgfad sá an tart madramail sin a Beir ort braon beag nisge d’laraid air Lasarus ann fuarugad taBairt do d’ teanga ; sgaoilfad sé na slaBraid teintig sm a tá ann do timcioll ; mucfad se na boirb teinte ann a B-fuil ta aig do losgad. — Crucwr in hacflamma (Luc. 16, 21). Beir Dia le tmgsint duinn ann áit eile cad sé mar Beir an Aitrige buaid air an g-ceart neamda, agus cad se mar geiB si air ais gac breit a Beir Dia ann agaid an peacaig, a b-pearsam an rig Eseciais. Cuir Dia tinneas marBac air an ng so, mar diogaltas air son a peacaid ; tug se ordugad do ’n faid Isaias dul le raBa fd n-a ddin, agus a rad leis Buidead a cur air a gnátugad saogalta, agus nac raiB imeact o’n m-bas aige. Dispone domui ; nam morieris tu (^Isaias 38, 1). Cad se rinne Esecias ann so a cairde ? measann siB go raiB imeact o’n m-bás aige tar éis Dia taBairt breit báis ann agaid ? 0 ! do rinne co luat agus fuair sd an sgeul so, glac sé gan moill armur na aitnge : Buail a net, sil a deor, d’ agair agus guid sd Dia maiteacas a taBairt dd ann a peacaidiB — Flevit itaque 'Ezecliias fietu magno (4 Beg., 20, 3). Air mod nac mait bi cdl an faid leis, ’n uair fuair ordugad nuad dul le sgeul ann a rig so, go n-deárnaid an aitrige a rinne sd a siotcan Id Dia ; agus ann áit an Baia a bagrad air, go B-fuigead aris a slainte ; agus os a cionn so, cuig Bliadna deug mar fadugad saogail — Vidi laclirymas tuas et ecce sanavi te (i Beg., 20, 5.) SmMONS OF THE 109 it would prevent tliat insatiable thirst which causes thee to beg a drop of water from Lazarus to cool thj tongue ; it would loose the fiery chains which now bind thee; it would quench the raging fire in which thou art burning. Crucior in hac flainma . — (Luke 16, 21.) In another place God gives us to understand how Pen- ance obtains the victory over the justice of heaven, and how it, as it were, — undoes the judgments passed by God against sin. This is shewn in the case of King Ezechias. God inflicted a deadly sickness on this king, as an acfc of retribution for the sin commited ; gave orders to the prophet Isaias to go to him with a warning, and to tell him to settle all his worldly affairs, and that there was for him no avoiding death. Kow, what is it, think you, my friends, that Ezechias did, on account of which he actually avoided death, although God had actually passed sentence of death against him ? 0 ! he performed pen- ance ; as soon as ever he heard that announcement, he took to himself the armour of penance ; He beat h is breast ; he shed tears ; he implored and besought God to give him pardon of his sins. So powerful was this re- pentence that no sooner had the prophet just turned his back and had left him than he received fresh orders to go back to the king, and to tell him that the penance which he had done had been the means of making peace with God ; and that, instead of the threatened death, he would once more obtain renewed health and fifteen years of prolonged life, 110 MOST HEV. DU. GALLAQEEE 0, I)eora miorljuilleaca na Áitnge, nár sileal a riam 6 croicle nac g-clao^locad siB fearg Dá ! 0, Pearlaid uasala, a tá CO geanamail sin aig Dia, air mod go d-tugann mar Inac oraiB an gloir siormde ! Is neam-iongantac liom na Áatreaéa Naoiiita gairm locslamte na n-anam oraiB, de Brig nac B-fuil cnead no lot dá Baogalaig Bideas air an anam nac liagasann siB. Is siB na teactaraid is fearr, a cuaiá o’n b-peacac cum deag-sgeul a taBairt air ais. Is siB luct dlige is eagnaige ann cas an peacaig d’ agairt. Is siB adBocoid is taBactaig a cuaid ariaih a B-fiagnuis na Tríonóide, ann trocaire Di do gluasaet maiteacas a taBairt do ’n b-peacac. — Eelent in omne facinus latam divina pro- mulgalione senteniiam (Pet. CJirys.'). Is siB an lodbairt is taitneamaig, o Mac Dá amac, d’ar ófrálad ariaiii do’n Árdrig. Sdcrificiwn Eeo spiritus contribulatus (Psal 50, 19). A taid deora na Aitrige co muirneac, measamail, sm a B-fiagnuis T>é, air mod nac áil leis a silead faoi ucaid air bit eile act faoi fearg a cur air fóin agus le fuat air an b-peacad. Hi feidir do’n g-criostaid dimbuideacas Dá a tillead nios mo ’na gol a deauad faoi atair no faoi matair faoi mac no faoi ingin ; faoi Breis no faoi leattrom ; no faoi md talamda, act faoi na peacaidiB amain — Flendum solummodo est, ant pro amisso Paradiso, aut pro commisso peccato (Pet. Cellensis.) Measfa, a criostaid, nac raiB adBar air bit is mo Beir duine ann leat-sgeul faoi gol a deanad ’na faoi Bas Cr/ost : maisead ’nn áit Mac Dé taBairt buideacais do na mnaiB a Bi a gol an uair do connaircadar se aig lomcur na croice, agus ’g a ceasad air sleiB CalBain', is se duBairt se leo, Ian de mi-sásam, gan hé féin do caoinead act “ goilid agus caoinid Bur b-peacaid do cuir mise aig lomcur na croice so.’'—-FiUoeJeriisaJemj nolite ft ere super me^ sed super vos ipsasftiU (Luc. 23, 28). SEBMONS OF TEE 111 Oh, miraculous tears of penance that never yet were shed from the heart, that ye would not appease the anger of God. Oh pearls of rare price, so much valued by God that in exchanging for you he bestows endless glory. It is no way surprising to me that the holy fathers have styled tears the balm of the soul, since there is no sore or wound even the most dangerous affecting spiritual life that you do not heal. You are the best messengers that ever sped from the face of sin to bring back go )d news. Ye are wisest lawyers to plead the case for sin. Ye are the most powerful advocates that ever went in the presence of the Trinity, to urge the mercy of God to grant pardon to the sinner. Ye are the most agreeable offering, — apart from the offering of the Son of God — that has ever been presented to the Sovereign King, — the sacrifice to God is a contrite spirit — Ps. 50, 1 9. The tears of penance are dear and appreciable in the presence of God, to that degree that he does not wish that they be shed for any other object, but on account of having offended himself, and also on account of hatred for sin. A Christian could not earn the dis-esteem of God more readily than by crying on account of father or mother, of son, or daughter, of loss, or want, or of any earthly thing — but on account of sins alone — Flendum solummodo est, iiut pro amisso ParadisOj aut pro commisso peccato (Pet. Gel). You would suppose, dear Christian, that no more praise-worthy reason could be assigned for shedding tears than that for which the daughters of Jerusalem wept when they beheld Christ carrying His cross to Calvary: Well, the Son of God, instead of expressing thanks to these women who w'ere crying at beholding Him carry- ing the cross, and at seeing Plim going to be crucified on Calvary, said to them, with an expression of displea- sure : Do not cry for Me, but weep over your sins that have been the cause of My cross and crucifixion. 112 'MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. Ann áit a n-dearnaid Cnost eug-caoine co mdr so air na mnáiB sud faoi gol a deanad faoi gac masla agus mi-mod, faoi gac trom-Buille de sgnirsa a buailead air a corp naomta, cad se mend na éug-caoine deanfas se air an muintir a goileas £aoi uile nid, act faoi a b-peacaidiB amain ? Cad se mend na feirge Bideas aige leis an muintir air a n-goilleann breis dá lugad saogalta mbs mo ’na sgarad le saidBreas na n-grasa, agus le na g-ceart air Parrtas ? Cad sé árdcas do’n muintir a cuiras fearg air i)ia gac uair agus gac moimeint, agus nac sileann oiread agus aon deor amáin aitrige ann a siotcain a déanad ? 0 ! ti, an te nac n-goilfaid anois air son a peacaid, an uair a tá an t-am aige, goilfaid agus caoinfaid se ann Ifrionn ann an-trat . — Ihi erit fletus et stridor dentium 22, 13.) Cid siB anois a cáirde, nac B-fuil atrugad slige, no bealaig aig an b-peacac, a triallas go Parrtas, act bótar garB na aitrige. Cid siB gur b’ si an aitrige amáin do gnid ar siotcán le Dia an uair a teidmuid a d-treas air. Cidfid mar an g-ceadna ma dearcann siB air Bur g-con- sias, nac B-fuil aon duine agaiB nár ól cupan agus an lomarca de nim marBac an peacaid. Glacaid mar sin locslainte na áitrigema ’s mian liB cnead Bur n-anam do liagas. Buailid Bur n-uct, silid Bur n-deor ; bidead dólás oraiB faoi fearg a cur air an Ard-rig. Má gnid siB sin o croide, lé run Bur m-beata a leasugad, geiBfaid siB cáBair na n-grása 6 í)ia anns an t-saogal so, agus an gl(5ir sioruide anns an t-saogal eile. Amén, SEBMONS OF TEE 113 Now since Christ complained so much of those women, because they cried on account of each insult and mark of disrespect given to His person, on account of each heavy blow of the scourge inflicted on His sacred body, how much more will He complain of the people who cry on account of everything or anything but their sins ? What an amount of anger will He show to those people who are affected to tears by the least loss of earthly goods, much more than they are by the loss of the riches of Divine grace, and by forfeiting their right to the paradise of heaven ? What will happen to the people who provoke the anger of God, every hour, and every moment, and who shed not, just as much as one tear of repentance, in order to make their peace with his offended majesty ? Oh ! he who will not now, while he has time, weep for his sins, will yet in hell cry, when time will be for him no more. You see now, my friends, that there is no other way or path for a sinner who wishes to direct his steps to heaven except the rough road of penance. You see that it is penance alone that brings about our peace with God whenever we have had any falling out with him. Yoir will see, too, if you look into your conscience that there is not one of you who has not drunk a cup, aye and more, of the deadly poison of sin. Take then in turn a draught of the healing balm of penance, if you wish to heal the sores of your souls. Strike your breasts, shed tears ; bo full of sorrow for having offended the sovereign King. If you do this from your heart, — with a desire of amend- ing your lives, you will obtain the aid of graces from God in this world, and glory everlasting in the other world. — Amen. SEEMON VI. ON THE MISERABLE STATE OF A SINNER. Seeing the city (Jerusalem) he wept over it. — St. Luke xix, 41. Christ spoke not a 'word, neither did ho perform any act, that he did not intend for our guidance in the way of salvation. It is for your sake, my brethern, and for mine, that Jesus Christ came into this world, that ho suffered tribulation and poverty, reproach, and contempt. It is on your account, and on mine that he made frequent prayers — that he supplicated the Eternal Father — that he sweated drops of blood from his members, — and that he shed even the last drop of his blood on the cross. On this day, Christ beholding the city of Jerusalem; became sad and dejected, so that he burst into tears. And why my brethern, what cause of grief has He ? It must bo an extraordinary thing, indeed, that causes Christ to weep ? Oh ! glorious eyes of our Saviour, which give consolation to those in sorrow by casting a merciful look upon them ; what has caused you to-day to become a fountain of water, by the streams of tears you shed ? Listen to Christ, and he himself will give you the reason. “ I cannot ” says He but be sad and sorrowful, when I behold the carnage and desolation, that are fast ap- proaching this town, although, at present, it is insensible of it. Its enemies, the Romans, will come without delay, they will lay siege to it, they will burn its temple — the most elegant building in the world ; they will break down its wall; they will demolish its palaces and its castles; AN SEISEAl) SEANMOIE. AIR STAD TRUA(>ASIA1L AN iBACAlG. Vidms civitatem flevit super illam. — Luc. 19 c. 41 v. Aig feucumt do Criost air catair Serusalem do goil si — Bnatra leigtar aig Liícás anns an 19 caib. 41 rann, Nfor laBair Criost focal agus ni dearnaid gnioiii iiac ann siun-ne treorugad air casan ar slánuigte a duBairt agus a rinne siad. Is air Bur son-sa, a cáirde, agus air mo son-sa tainic Criost ann an t-saogaiJ so ; d’ fulamg sé buairt agus boctaineact, masla agus mf-ihod. Is air Bur^ son-sa agus air mo son-sa, rinne se urnaig liiinic, guid s(5 an t-Atair sioruid, cuir si alius fola d’a Baill, doirt se an deor is luga d’ a cuid fola a g-crann na croice. Aig feucumt an diu do Criost air catair Serusalem glac tursa agus toct, an-aoiBin agus dubrdn se, airiiiodgur reub an gol air — Videns civitatem flevit super illam. Agus cad cuige, a cáirde, cad si an t-ádBar dóláis a tá aig Criost ? Is md eugsamail air n-doig, a Beir air Criost a Beit aig gol. O ! a suile gluniiara an t-Slanuigteora, Beir solas do luct an dubróm aig feucumt go trocaireac orta, cad se rinne to- bair fior-uisge diB an diu, aig silead tromceata deor ? Tugaid Bisteact do Criost agus Beirfaid si fán fios an ad- Bair daoiB. Ni tig liom gan a Beit tursac, dubronac, an uair a smuamim cad se an t-ár agus an sgrios a tá triall ann an Bade so, air son nac d-tuigeann si se anois. Tioc- faid an naihaid, na Romanaige gan moran moille, cuirfaid foslongpijirt leite, loisgfaid siad a teampull, an obair is breaga amis an doiiian ; leagfaid a baliaid, binsfaid- a 116 MOST JREV. VB. QÁLIAGHEB. páláis, agus a casleáin ; ni fágf aid siad cloc air liioin cloice di ; ni goirfar bade di bo coidce 6 so amac. An nid céadna d’ ding do ’n m-baile so, éirig go Iceta- mail do ’n b-peacac. An uair is luga do saoileas cuirfaid an naiiiuid, se sin, dialial Ifrinn, foslongpdirt le n-a anam brisfaid ballaid agus dangauact na ngrasa ; reubfaid cais- leáin na subadcc ; gnid sd cimeac agus sealBuid de ’n anam so a cosain do Criost an mend fola a Bi ann a cuislcanaiB le n-a sáBáil orta — No7i relinquent in te lapidem^ &c. Gid gur goill air Criost sgrios na caitreac so ann a raiB an teampull bud breága agus bud luaciiiaire a Bi anns an doinan, ann a rinnead onoir agus adrugad do fern; gid gur goill air sgnos corporda an cinne ludaig dad’ tainic sd fein rcir a daonacta; act is md goill air mile uair, sgrios spioradalta a n-anam, de Brig nár úiiiluig siad do fdin, gur seun siad a í)iadact ; nár adinuig siad a linorBuille, gur di’uid siad a g-croidte ann agaid a grasa, agus a g-cluasa ann agaid a teagaisg, nac n-deárnaid siad úsáid de na meodanaiB a tug se ddiB 1’ agaid a slanuigte. So an t-ad- Bar faoi a d’ tainic an t-ar so, agus an sgrios air an g-cinne ludaig ; agus so an t-adBar cV siiile Criost an did aun a loc fola . — Eo qiiod non cocjnovent temjms visita* tiORÍs Slice {Ibid.) Cid siB anois; a cdirdc, gur bud siad pcacaid an cinno daona b’ adBar gola do Criost, agus bud cdir go B-facaid siB gur cdra daoiB fern ’ná do Criost na peacaid ceadna do caoiiicad. Dd m-bud Icur daoiB an diogBdil tig do ’n duiuc, as an b>pcacad, air n-ddig, ni raCfud sgit orraiB SERMONS OF THE 117 and they shall not leave even one stone of it upon another and this place shall not bo henceforth called a city. The same catastrophe that happened this city, fre- quently happens the sinner. When he least expects it, the enemy, that is, the infernal fiend lays siege to his soul, he breaks down the walls and fortifications of sanctifying grace, demolishes the strongholds of virtue, and he makes captive, and assumes the right of possession of that soul, which cost Christ, for its redemption, all the blood that flowed through his sacred veins. Though the destruction of this city grieved Christ, a city wherein was the most costly and magnificent edifice in the world, where divine honor and adoration had been perpetually paid to the Eternal Father; though the corporal extirpation of the Jewish nation, from which he himself was descended according to his humanity, grieved him ; yet he felt a thousand times more for the spiritual destruction that came on their souls. He was grieved that they did not humble themselves to him, that they denied His divinity, that they did not acknowledge His miracles, that they shut their hearts against His divine graces and their cars against His teaching; and that they did not avail themselves of the means which He gave them for their salvation. This is the reason why this calamity and destruction bofcl the Jewish race, and this is the cause which has left to-day the eyes of Christ a foun- tain of blood, because the city did not know the time of its visitation — Eo quod non cocjnoiit tempus visitationis suce. You perceive now, my friends, that it was the sins of mankind that liavo been the cause of the weeping of Christ ; and now you should perceive, too, that it is moro consonant and becoming that you should, yourselves, rather than Christ, weep on account of your sins. If you could only see tlie evils that befcl man by committing sin, you would never cease bewailing your sins. I shall 118 MOST liEV. EB. GALL AGREE. doidce aig caoineal Bur b-peacaid. Tairgfaid mise a cur ann uinail daoiB an diu tar ás mo coinral do roinn ann dá ^uno. Nil tubaiste ann do ’n duine i8 m6, ’ná an peacad a d(ianad ; Bin an ceud puno. Act mile uair nios measa ’ná sin, codlad air an b-pea- cad, agus gan aitnge a déanad : sin an dara puno. 0 ! cia Báirfas osnaid go leor do mo croide, no uisge go leor do mo siiiliB, no briatra brigihara go leor do mo tean- gain, lonnos go d-tiocfad liom corrugad no mosglugad Buam as bur g-croidte cruada, clocaca-sa, lonnos go ngoilfead agus go g-caoin£ead siB na peacaid so, a cosain gol agus caomead do Criost ? larramuid na grasa so air Í)ia, le impige na Maigidine Muire, aig rad Se do Beata, a Muire. Beir an doctur naoihta San Bernard faoi dearad, gid gur lomda nid Baineas gol as duine, nac B-fuil act aon nid aiiiáin faoi ar coir diiinn gol do déanad mar a tá ar b-peacaid feio, agus peacaid ar g-coiiiursan. — EcUgiosa tnditia aut aliemmi peccatum luget, aut pro prium.. An Bean a goileas faoi Bas a fir luide ni se amáin go B-fuil a deora neaiiitairBeac act a tá siad peacadac ; an te goileas faoi sgarad leis an nid fuair se go ole, a tá a deora neam- Brigiiiar, loctac. ' An te goileas faoi Bas a leinB, no faoi Beit B-fad 6 n-a cáirde ; faoi liii.conigar no boctaineact, ni 1 ann a deoraiB act deora gan tairBe. Act an te goileas faoi n-a peacaidiB, faoi sgarad U Dia, faoi easBa didin agus caradais Dé; so na deora niilcas boirb teinte Ifnnn, claoideas an diaBal, Baineas cloideaiii an diogaltais as laiiii De. So an t-adBar faoi ar sil fáid agus naonii an t-sean- reacta an lomad deor ; agus so an t-adBar faoi ar goil agus faoi ar caoin na apstoil agus naoiái an reacta nuaid; agus so na t-adBar faoi B-fuil Criost aig gol an dm. — Bcli^iosa, tristilia, d'c. SEBMOKS OF THE 119 endeavour to put this matter plainly before your intelli- gence ; and for that purpose I divide the subject into two parts : — First — That there is no misfortune for men greater than to commit sin. Second — A thousand times worse, still, is that sleepy indifference after its commission, and the neglect of do- ing penance. 0 ! who will give sighs to my heart, or water to my eyes, or words to my tongue, powerful enough to rouse and excite your callous and stony hearts, so that you may bewail and lament those sins which caused Jesus Christ to weep and lament. Let us beg these graces of the great God, through the intercession of the blessed Virgin, by repeating the Hail Mary. The holy doctor St. Bernard observes, that notwith- standing the many things that cause man to weep, there is but one thing for which he should weep, and that is, his own sins, or the sins of his neighbour. It is sorrow springing from religion to weep for one’s own sins, or those of another. The tears of the woman who weeps for the death of her paramour, are not only fruitless, but sinful ; the tears of him who weeps for parting with goods ill-gotten are powerless and to be deprecated ; the tears of him who weeps for the death of a child, or for being abandoned by his friend, or for the frowns of poverty, are tears without benefit. But the tears of him who weeps for his sins — who weeps for parting with his God — for the loss of God’s benevolence and protection are fruitful tears, blessed tears, tears that quench the burning flames of hell — which defeat Satan and take the vengeful sword from God’s hand. Sin was the cause for which the saints and the prophets of the old law shed torrents of tears, and the cause for which the apostles and saints of the new law have shed abundant tears, and the cause for which Christ himself to-day weeps. 120 MOST BEV. VE. Q ALL AO EE R An fáicl Amos aig smuameafl cad k6 mcud a's peacai^ an pobul ann agaid Dd, ogus air an diogaltas I3i Dia triail cuca air eon na b-peacad cdadna, duBairt sd leis an b-pobul cad sd mcasann siB Bideaa oir m’ aire-so, oidce agus lo ? NÍ teid sgit orm, ar so, act aig smuamead air lomadaihlact agns air grainamlact Bur b-peacaid-se ; an uair a miisclaua *s an oidce, sgreadaim air Dia agus fiafruigim de ar pea- cuig duine air bit anns an b-pobul so ann d’ agaid an noct. Agus má rmne cad is mait dam-sa a ddanad ann maitea- cas d’ fagail ddiB, no sasam taBairt ann a b-peacaidiB ? Is sd an freagrad geiBim o ’u t-Slanuigteoir, na liile gárta gola leigeann air na bealaigiB mdra. — Hcec elicit Eominus exerdtuum in omnibus ^lateis ]jlanctu3 (AmoSj cap 5, 16). Ná fag teac no áit, cliíid no cearn, nac g-cuartdcaid tu, agus nac d-taBairfaid tu raBa, go B-fuil mallugad agus diogaltas Dd triall cuca faoi n-a b-peacaidiB— Et cunctis qiios foris sunt dices Fee, Fee, (Ibid). Ni leor duit sm, larr congnaih gola air an uile duine, aig a B-fuil Slide ann a ceann lo gol a ddanad, agus ann a diaig sin agus ude ni tiocfaid, leat-sa no leo^san oiread gola a ddanad agus nigfas an t-anam a guid an peacad marBta. — Et ad planctum eos epd sciunt plangere, Tugaid disteact do faid Seol, agus Bdirfaid se fios daoiB cad se an mod is edir do ’n duine a peacaid fdin, no peacaid na comursan do caoinead. Ddan sgrdac dimeac agus osnaid mar ddanfad dg-Bean a caillfad a fear •-^Flange quasi virgo accincta sacco super virum pulertatis suce (Joel, cap. 1, 8), *Nuair a cailleas dg-Beau a fear a Bi deag-sgdimcac, deag- caileactac nac n-ddanfad uid air bit act gac nid is md Bdir- iad sásam di; aim a raiB a anam baitto, le meud an grad ‘SEBM0N8 OF THE 121 The prophet Amos, reflecting how much the people had sinned against God, and aware of the vengeance that He was ready to pour out upon them, on account of the same sins, said unto them : What, think you, is it that is a cause of concern to me day and night ? I cease not, says he, thinking of the greatness and enormity of your sins ; when I awake at night, I cry aloud to God, and ask Him did any of these people sin against Him this night, and if so, what is meet for me to do, to obtain par- don for them, or to atone for their sins ? The answer I get from God is — “pour forth cries and lamentations on the highways.” — Hoec elicit Domini exercituum in omnibus plateisj inlanctus^ ifc., Amos, v. 15. Leave no house nor place, corner nor recess which thou wilt not search ; warn them that the malediction and ven- geance of God are coming upon them, on account of their sins ; and to all that you meet, you will say, woe ! woe ! — Et cunctis qnce fovis sunt, dices : vee ! voe. ! — Ibid. All this suffices not : ask the condoling aid of all who have eyes to weep, and yet neither you nor they can shed tears enough to cleanse the soul that has committed mortal sin. — Et ad 'planctum eos qid sciunt plangere. Give ear to the prophet Joel, and he will give you to understand in what manner you should weep for your sins, or those of your neighbour. Haise wailing, lamen- tation, and moaning, like unto a young woman, who has lost the husband of her youth. — Flange giiasi virgo accincta sacco, super virum pubertatis suce. — Joel, i, 8. When a young woman loses her husband, a man who was comely in person, whose disposition was amiable, who would do nothing but that which would make her ^^PPy> she whose very soul was filled to overflowing with love and affection towards him, you are well aware that 122 MOST REV. DB. OALLÁGEEB. agu 3 an gean do Bi aici air, is lontmcse daoiB nac m- bideann tillead aici 6 liii-foigid nac m-bideann miosiir air a dólás, nac d-teid sgit airsi act aig sior-gol, nac d-tirmi- geann a suile, agus nac g-cluintar uaidsi, act osnaid. So an t-slige, so an mod, so an bealac is cdir duit-se, a criost- aid, leanihuin, ma tá de droc-ad ort a Beit a staid an pea- caid. Is md an t-adBar dúláis a tá agat mile nair ’na aig an (5g-mnaoi sud. Ni nid nios luga ’ná do Dia a caill tu ; saidBreas neaiiida na ngrasa a caill tu ; eudac uasal na suBailce caill tu ; solas agus aoiBneas flaiteaiiinais caill tu ; agus ni de do neam-deoin, act de do toil-deonad fdin. Cad se deanfas tu ? A tá : goil go cruaid craidte ; dáan ait ns air an dg-mnaoi siid, dá m-beidead mile bliadain agat de saogal go m-bud beag leat se ann do peacaid do caomead. — Flange quasi virgo, óco. Ni Idigamuid anns an Scrioptiiir Diada gar goil Criost act tri úaii’e aim a saogal, agus leigamuid anns an am ccadna gur b’ siad na peacaid b’ adBar go! a dd gac uair aca. Aig feucaint do Criost air Jerusalem do goil sd an ceud uair ; agus aris ’n uair do conairc se Lasarus tar dis a belt ceitre lá marb curia; agus aig loBad anns an uaig, do caoin agus do goil sd. Act cad as ar goil sd air an dcaid so ? A tá go B-facaid a b-pearsain Lasarus an staid tubaisteac ann a m-bideami an peacac do gnid fad-coihnugad anns an b-peacad ; bid sd marb morgtuide, ceangailto mar Lasarus, gan niotugad, gan binn air a slánugad. An fear slid nac d-teid sgit air o tig caint ann a ceann, act aig mallugad De le mionnaib mdra agus blaispeime ; an fear sud agus an bean siid, a tá aig luidead leis na bliadantaib a leaba an adaltranuis, teid ann faoisidine, agus aig glacad Coirp an Tigearna faoi n-a m-bronnaib anns an stáid so ; an fear slid eile teid aig glacad Coirp Criost agus a croide anns an am ceadna lán d’ ole agus d’ aingideact d’ á comursain ; an peacac siid eile, teid mar an g-edadna deanad oomaoineac agus cuid na coihursan air a laidi : so an t-siocair so an t-adbar ar goil Criost. SEEMONS OF THE 123 her disquiet knows no bounds, that her grief is incessant, that she ceases not to weep continually, that her eyes dry not, and that nothing is heard from her but moaning. This is the manner, this is the way, this is the conduct for you to imitate, Christians. If you have had the mis- fortune to be in the state of sin, you have a thousand times more cause of lamentation than the young married woman; you have lost no less an object than God; the divine treasure of sanctifying grace, the noble guard of virtue, the happiness and joy of heaven ; and you have not lost all this against your will, but of your own free will ; what shall you do then ? Bewail and lament most bitterly, imitate the said young woman ; if you have yet a thousand years to live, think that time too little to be- wail your sins. We read in Holy Writ, that Christ wept but thrice in his life ; yet we read at the same time, that sin was the occasion each time : First, He wept on this occasion when He beheld Jerusalem ; second, when Jesus beheld Laza- rus four days buried and rotten in the grave. He cried and wept . — Laclirymatus est Jesus. — John, xi, 35. Why did He weep ? Because He saw in the person of Lazarus the sad state of the sinner who perseveres in sin. The sinner is dead, loathsome, bound like Lazarus, without feeling or regard for his salvation. That man who ceases not, from the first coming to the use of speech ; that other man and that woman who lie for years in the bed of adultery, who yet go to confession, and receive the body of the Lord into their souls in this state ; that other man who goes to receive the blessed Eucharist, and his heart at the same time full of malice and ill-will towards his neighbour ; again, the sinner who goes in like manner to communion and his neighbour’s property still in his hands ; — these, I say, are they who cause Jesus Christ to weep. 124 MOST BEV. BE. QALLAQEEB, Goil Cnost an treas uair a g-crann na croice agug air n-doig, tmgeann siB cad se an t-adBar. Bur b-peacaid-se, a pobuil, Bi se do caoinead, agus air son Bur b-peacaid-se, Bi se fulamg mdr-pianta. UaBar agus saint agus driiis agus fearg, blaispeime agus mionna mora an pobuil, do tarraing gac deor fola Bi ann a BallaiB agus ann a cuis- leanaiB . — Cum clamore valido et laclirymis (lléb. 5, '7.) Cualaid siB cad se mar goi] Criost aig feucaint air catair Serusalem i agus cualaid siB mar an g-ceadna gur b’ siad peacaid na caitreac so b’ adBar gola Dd ; nior goil Criost, deir San Crusostom, ’n uair a gaBad sd, nior goil sd 'n nair a ceanglad se ; nior goil sd ’n uair a buailad cuig liiile bmlle de sciiirsa air ; m'or goil sd ’n uair a gaBad dornaid air; nior goil sd ’n uair a cuiread cordin spiona air a ceann, tairgnid ann a laiiiaiB agus ann a cosaiB : act goil sd, agus caoin se air son peacaid an cmne daonda, agus nior goil sd ariaiii £aoi atrugad d’ adBar. 0 ! a cárde, nac truag an cas, agus nac tursac, losa Criost aig caoinead peacaid nac n-dearnaid sd, agus sinn-ne a rinne na peacaid gan deor aitrige aig teact air ar suiliB ? losa Criost aig ioc pianta air son na g-coir nac n-ddarnaid sd, agus sinn- ne a tá coireac nac mian linn nid dá luga d’ fulamg air son ar g-coir fdin. 0 mire gan sompla ! Creud se an dioBáil a tá do Criost ma damantar tu-sa, a peacaig ? Act an B-£uil £uigeal dioBála agat-sa ma geiB tu bas gan aitrige ? Goil Criost £aoi catair Serualem, agus is uime goil se cionn nac n-dearnaid siad deag-usáid d’a grasaiB, nac n-deárnaid siad aitreacas ann a b-peacaidiB, nid is tubaistig a d’eirig ariani do ’n b-peacac rdir mar tairgfas me crutugad anns an dara punc. An dara punc. Ni’l nid air bit is md a cuiras sdlasair Criost, ’ná aitreacas an peacaig ; agus ni’l nid air bit is md cuiras ddlás air ’ná neaiii-aitrige an peacaig. Aig dearcad SEBJIONS OF THE 125 Jesus wept the third time on the cross, and I suppose you know for what reason. It was, my dear friends, for your sins He wept, and it was for your sins He suffered bitter torments. The pride and covetousness, the lust and anger, the blasphemy and swearing of the people, it was those which drew water from His eyes, sighs from His heart, and which drew the last drop of blood from His veins. You have heard how Jesus wept at beholding the city of Jerusalem ; and you have likewise heard that the sins of the city were the cause of it all. Jesus did not weep, says St, Chrysostom, when He was seized ; He did not weep when He received five thousand lashes ; He did not weep when He was struck by the rabble ; He did not weep when He was spit upon ; He did not weep when He was crowned with thorns ; He did not weep when His hands and feet were bored through with nails ; yet He cried and wept for the sins of mankind ; nay, more, He never wept for any other reason. 0 ! my dearest brethren ^ is it not a sad and lamentable case — to see Christ bewail- ing the sins which He did not commit, and we who have committed the sins not shedding a tear of sorrow ; to see Jesus Christ enduring torments for the crimes which He did not commit, and we, the delinquents, not wishing to suffer the least thing for our crimes. 0 ! madness un- paralleled. What great injury can it be to Jesus if thou, sinner, go to perdition ? But what endless woe to thee if thou die impenitent? Jesus wept for the city of Jeru- salem, and the cause was, that the people did not make good use of His divine grace, that they did not amend their lives, that they did not repent of their sins, which is the most woful thing that ever happened the sinner, a point which I shall endeavour to prove in the second part. There is nothing gives Christ more consolation than the repentence of the sinner ; and there is nothing that grieves Him more than the sinner’s want of repentence. 126 MOST EEY. J)B. QALLAGEEB. air large agus air neani-Brig an dnine, is gniom daonda an peacad, mar deir Naom Bernárd ; act is gniom diaBalaid damanta fad-coiiinuid d^anad ann. Bid cuidiugad an diaBail aig an duine ’n uair gnid se an peacad, act is <5 ’n diaBal aiiiain tig an neaiii-aitrige. Perseverare in malo diaholicum est, et digni simt 'perire cum illo guicunque in similitudinem ejus permanent in peccaio. — Ser. I. JDe Advent. Peacuigeann tu, deir Criost, Serusalem, act air son sin agus nile, lompuig orm-sa, agus ni cuiiiindcaid me nios md air do peacaidiB, deanfaid me dearmad dioB. Jerusalem f convertere ad Dominum Deum tuum. Act ann áit aitrige a deanad, Serusalem, se gnid tu cruadugad ann do peacaidiB^ cranrugad anns an ole, agus cad eile, cad se tig liom-sa a deanad duit nios md ? 0 ni’l nios md le deanad agam act aiháin, mar crutugad air liieud mo gean ort-sa, agus meud m’ fuat air do peacaidiB, ’n uair nac ngoilfaid tusa, goilfaid mise agus caoinfaid md do cruadas croide agus do neain- aitrige. — Videns civitatem, Jlevit super illam. A ta laete airid aig Dia, deir ISTaoih Aguistin agus laete átrid aig an duine ; tig laete Dd ’n uair a criocnuigeas an duinea cursa le linn biis ; agus tig laete an duine ’n uair a tosuigeas se a Beata. Laete siad so Beir Dia dd le leas anama a ddanad ; laete na trdcaire, laete na ngrasa, md- meinte dir siad. Cia b’ se a cuiras siol na suBáilce anns na laetiB so buamfaid se fogmar na gldire anns an t-sior- uideait. Act cia b’ se nac n-ddan£aid an lísáid ceart de na laetiB so ; cia b’ se nac n-ddanfaid an aitrige agus nac n- larrfaid trdcaire anns na laetiB so, tiocfaid laete Dd ; tiocfaid an uair, tiocfaid an t-am, ann a d-taBairfaid Dia ann cuntuis se, ann a lasfaid a fearg, agus ann a d-taBair- SERMONS OF THE 127 When one looks into the frailty and weakness of man, sin must be regarded springing from human weakness, as St. Bernard says ; but to persevere in it is a diabolical and damnable thing. Man is actuated by the devil, when he commits sin, but from the devil alone comes im- penitence. — Perseverare in malo diabolicum est, et digni sunt perire cum illo, quicungue in similitudinem ejus perma~ nent in peccato. — St. Bernardus, Ser. I. de Advent. “ Thou hast sinned, says Christ, 0 ! Jerusalem, but yet return to Me, and I will not remember thy sins any longer — I shall forget them.” “ Jerusalem, Jerusalem, be converted to the Lord thy God.” But instead of re- penting, thou hast become hardened in thy sins, thou hast become obdurate in evil ; and what then, what is it that I can do for thee ? Ah, no, there is no more that I can do for thee, but this alone, which is a proof of the love I bear thee, and of my abhorrence for thy sins ; that when thou wilt not cry, I will cry and mourn over thy hardness of heart and thy impenitence, videns civitatem flevit super illam. There are certain days, says St. Augustine, set apart for man ; and certain times set apart for God. God’s time comes when man finishes his course at the period of death ; and man’s commences when he begins to breathe the breath of life. These are days which God gives him to work out the happy destiny for which his soul was created ; they are days of mercy, days of grace — they are golden moments. Whoever, in this happy spring-time of existence, sows the seeds of virtue, he shall reap the harvest of glory in the season of eternal life. But who- ever does not make proper use in this time of the days that are given him, whoever does not do penance, and will not ask God for mercy, then the time set apart for God will come at last ; the hour, the period will come, in which God will call every man to an account j when His flaming anger will be lighted, and when He shall allow 128 MOST BEV. DB. QALLAGEEB. faid cead imeartais d’ a diogaltas. Act nior taimc na laete so go foil. Tiocfaid an lá, ann a g-cuirfaid Dia tuaid an dá faoBair le fréuniB do crainn, act nior tainic se go fóil; tiocfaid an la, ann a d-taBairfaid aingeal an sgriosta raBa duit, gur leig tu an t-am tarat ann leas d’- anama do déanad, rac B-fuige tu mómeint de spas feasta* — Quia tempus non erit amplius {Apoc. 10, 7). Cad eile, creud leis a B-fuil tu fuireact, a criostaid, an aitrige a déanad ? An leis an uair nac m-beid tairBe ann urnaige, no ann aitrige ? 0, da m-beidead fios agat cad siad na úilc a tá feitead ort, ni Beidteá co mall so, air n-duig. Fiafruig de n’ dume saidBir sud an t-sitsgeuil cad siad na borb-teinte a ta ann cliu ’g a losgad, na coirid a tá ’g á Bruit, na rasuir a tá ’g á gearrad, na suistid a ta ’g á Bualad, gac teann- nacair a ta ’g á tarraing. Dearfaid sé leat go B- fuil sin agus a mile oiread * ’g á crad agus ’g á los- gad. — Quia crucior in liao flamma (Imc. 16, 24). Deirfaid se leat, da m-beidead am no cead aitrige aige mar a tá agat-sa, nac racfad stad air a suiliB act aig silead trom-ceata deor ; nac racfad sgifc air a teangain act aig urnaige agus aig guide, sgartad agus aig gairm air Dia no go B-fuigead maiteacas anns na ólcaiB do rinne sé . — Crucior in liac flamma. Act mo truaig má, deir sé, leig me an t-am tarm ; nior freagair me an uair ! Ma goilim anois no go leagfaid mo siiile, ni’l mait ann ; ni’l éisteact again ; ni’l gairm air ais air mo donas, no furtact coidce le fagail agam. — Crucior in hac flamma. 0! a peacaig, an aitrige ceadna a deanfad an fear sud anois, dá m-beidead a cead aige, déan tusa si, 6 ’s agat a tá a cead, muna mian leat a Beit rannpairteac leis anns na piantaiB do-airihigte ann a B-fuil sé. — Crucior in hac flamma. SERMONS OF TEE 129 his justice to play its part. But those days have not yet come. The day will come when God will lay the two edged axe to the root ; but it has not come yet ; the day will come when the exterminating angel will tell thee that thou didst let the time pass — that thou wilt not get a moment’s space from henceforward. Because time shall be no more. — Apoc. x. 6. What then, dear Chris- tian, what art thou waiting for in deferring penance ? Is it for the time when there will be no profit in prayer or in penance ? O ! if thou didst know the evils that await thee, surely thou would not then be so dilatory. Ask the rich man mentioned in the gospel what kind are the raging fires that are this day burning him, the boilers in which he is being seethed, the razors that are scoring him, the flails that are falling heavily on him. and the racks that are tearing him. He will tell thee that all these, and a thousand times more, are tormenting, excruciating, and piercing him. — Luke, xvi. 24. He will tell thee, if he had, as thou hast, time or leave for doing penance, that his eyes should not cease shedding abundant tears, that his tongue should not cease praying and supplicating, and calling aloud on God, until he would obtain pardon for the evils he had done. “ Woe is me,” says he ; 0 ! I have let the time pass ; I did not hearken to the hour ; if I weep now until mine eyes shall melt, it is of no avail— I shall not be heard ; there is no calling back or undoing my misfortune, nor any mitigation ever to be expected of my misery.” 0 ! sinner, the penance which that man would now do, if he had only leave, do thou whilst it is in thy power, unless thou take as choice to participate with him in the raging torture by which he is torn ; cruciox iu Jidojiammat 130 MOST EEY. DB. OALLAGHEE. I’ainic tinneas marBac do-leigiosta air an Eig an-cumac- tac, Antiocus ; bi a croide ’g á reubad, a cuid feola tuitim as a céile ann a mionn spuJaid, bi balad co breun morcmgte Bin, air, nár b-féidir le dame dá foisge do ann gaol no a b-páirt, teact ’g a cdmair. Tug neart na b-pian air an duine malluigte so tiontugad a dáanad air féin faoi deire agns an admáil so a buamt as . — Cognovi ergo^ quia priyptcrea in- venerunt me mala ista (I. Mac. 6, 13.) Tuigim anois nac b-fuil imeact agam 6 ’n m-bás, agus gur b’ siad na peacaid is adbar do mo mdr-piantaib. Nior raib a atrugad air m’ airo go d-ti so, act pleisiur agua compuirt ; nior raib smuainead agam air atrugad de gniom^ act rigte agus náisiuin do sgrios, rigacta agus cuigid a cur faoi mo smact ; act creud se an tairbe a tá dam anois ann aon nid diob so, no ann a b-fuil d’ dr agus d’ olmait- eas agam ? Sin me aig dul ann báis, agus trom-ualac de ’n uile cineál peacaid air m’ anam. 0, cad se ddanfas me anois ? Nior tuig me riam go d-ti so meud mo droc-ada no meud mo daille . — Nunc reminiscor malomm quoe feci in Jerusalem (I iliac, 6 , 12.) 0 ! prionsa malluigte, nfor leur duit go d-ti so meud na n-olc do rmne tu ! Nior leur leat gur peacad, na milte duine neaiii-ciontac a marbugad. Nior leur leat gur pea- cad rigacta agus náisiuin a losgad. Act is leur leat anois siad ann antrat. Cuaid do laete-se tart, ’n uair a bi disteact agus trdcaire le fag ail agat ; act anois tainic laete an Tigearna. Rinne tusa go d-ti so gac nid bud mian leat. Ann áit gac foslongpoirt a cuir tu go eag-cdrac le bailtib, cuirfaid na diabail foslongpdirt le d’anam, agus ceanglocaid siad tu le slabraidib dosgaoilte a b-prisiiin dorca Ifrinn. Et descendant in infernum viventes {Psal, 54, 16.) SERMONS OF THE 131 The powerful king Antiochus was seized with a deadly and incurable distemper ; his heart was bursting, his flesh was falling oft in small pieces ; there came such an offensive and loathsome stench from him, that those nearest and dearest bj tie of blood and friendship could not come near his person. The extreme torment in which this wicked man was, made him return to himself, and forced this acknowledgment from him : “ Now I know why it is those evils have come upon me. Now I per- ceive that I cannot escape death, and that my sins are the cause of my severe torments. Heretofore I cared for nothing but pleasure and comfort ; I cared for nothing but the overthrowing of nations ; the reducing of king- doms and provinces under my subjection ; but what bene- fit has arisen to me from all these things, or from all the gold and wealth in my possession ? Here I am, going to meet death, and an enormous load of all sorts of sin upon my soul. 0 ! what shall become of me now ? I did not perceive until now the excess of my misfortune or of my blindness; now I remember the evils which I did in Jeru- salem.” O ! wicked prince, thou didst not perceive till now the immense evils which thou didst commit ; thou didst not perceive that thou didst sin by killing thousands of inno- cent people ; thou didst not perceive that thou didst sin by burning kingdoms and nations. But thou perceivest them clearly now when it is too late. Thy days have gone by when thou mightest have been heard, and have obtained mercy, but now the days of the Lord have come ; thou hast followed hitherto the bent of tliy own will, and in place of each siege which thou hast fondly laid to towns, the devils will lay siege to thy soul, and also will bind thee with tight chains in the dreary prison of hell. — “And living they descend to hell.” — Ps. 5d, 16. Í52 MOST BEV. BE. GALLAGEEB. Act muna g-cuirfaiS an nid tubaisteac so fuair Antiocné inOtagad no criotnugad orraiB, a cáírde, ni fios dam-sa, cad se an nid le ’r fóidir critnugada cur orraiB. An nid ó'adna a fuair Antiocus, geiBtaid gac aon agaiB-se a gnid an peacad agus a cuireas an aitrige air cáirde. Ni leur liB Bur leas, act an oiread leis-san, nó na óilc a gnid siB go d-tig punc deigeanac an Báis. Ann sin an uair a Beideas íaa suile ’g a in-brisead an t-uct ’g a reubad, an anáil aig árdugad, is mian liB fios a cur air sagart, absólBid d’ fagail, agus gan annaiB losa Mária, a rad ; maiteacas d’ larraid, no olihugad air bit a déanad air Bur g-coinsias. Tairgfaid siB mar Antiocus pláisdriugad a cur air an g- cnead an taoB amuig, agus an t-olc agus an t-angBaid an taoB a stig. Leig siB Bur laete féin, laete na trdcaire, tarraiB, agus an uair a tig laete De, laete an diogaltais, is ann sin is mian liB trdcaire d’ larraid. Cuir Antiocus air seilB aitrige a deanad anns an b-punc so, act ni B-faair se disteact. Nár leigid Dia gur b’ se so cas aon duine agaiB- se. Se gan aiiirus, ma leigeannsiB Bur leas air cáirde, mar do rinne se-san agus muna n-iarrfaid siB trdcaire an uair a tá trocaire le fagail agaiB. Ni leur duit anois a duine Boict, a liact uair, a cuaid tu a d-treis air í)ia le uaBar, agus saint, le druis agus fearg, le breugaiB agus le mion_ naiB mdra, le craos agus meisge, le brisead saoire agus brisead trosgaid, act is leur siad an uair nac m-beid liagas le fagail orta . — Nunc reminiscor malorum quoefeci. O ! a cairde, muna mian liB a Beit rannpáirteac le An- tiocus anns na daor piantaiB ann a B-fuil sd, ná ddanaid aitris air mbs faide. Ddanaid an aitnge act ddanaid si 6 'óroide. Ná ddanaid si go fuar falsa mar se-san. Buailid Bur n-uct. goilid agus caoinid Bur b-peacaid ; is mime a 'óaoin siB roim so faoi neitiB nar cdir dadiB. Act guilid SERMONS OP THE m If this direful misfortune wliich befel Antiochus does not move or alarm you, my friends, I do not know what it is that can alarm or terrify you. The same fate shall await every one of you who commits sin, and defers doing penance. You do not see that which is for your welfare no more than he saw it ; you have no thought of the great evils ; you cannot until the period of death. Then when the eyes are bursting, the bosom heaving, the breath stealing upwards, then it is that you are disposed to send for a priest to receive absolution, and you, at the same time, not able to say Jesus, Mary, or to crave pardon, or to make any examination of your conscience. You will propose, like Antiochus, to apply an external salve to the wound, while the evil and malice within re- main ; you will let your days — the days of mercy— -pass, and then, when the days of God come — the days of ven- geance — it is only then, that you are disposed to crave mercy. But that is not the time, my brethren. Antio- chua trusted that he had secured to do penance on that particular point of his life, but he was not then heard. God forbid that this should be the case with any of you^ my friends, yet it shall certainly, if you postpone your conversion as be did — if you do not crave mercy now when you have it in your power to obtain mercy. Wretched man, you do not now regard the number of times you rebelled against God, by pride and by covet- ousness, by lust and by anger, by lying and by swearing by lewdness and by drunkenness, by violation of the Sab- bath and of the fast ; but you will then perceive them when there is no remedy for them. O ! my friends, if you have not made choice of sharing wiih Antiochus the raging torture in which he is, do not follow his example any ’longer. Do penance from your hearts ; do it, not in a lukewarm, slothful manner, as he did; strike your breasts, bewail and lament your sins ; often have you wept hitherto for things you 134 MOST BEV. DB. OALLAGEEB. anois faoi an t-aon adbar is mb air bit. Silid Bur n-deora, o croide, agus nigfaid siB Bur b-peacaid, mucfaid siB na borb-teinte sud a tá air lasad £aoi Bur g-comair, maotfaid siB agus claonfaid siB an t-árdBreite ann trbcaire deanad orraiB a Bus, agus an gloir sioruid a taBairt daoiB anns an t-saogal tall ; Nid a tá mise ’g larriad daoiB-se agus dam fbin, ann ainm an Atar agus an lilic agus an Spioraid Naoim. Am'In. AN SEACTMAD^ SEANMOIR. AIR BASdAL FAILLIdE A DEANAD DE ’N AITRIGE. Imeocaid mise, agus beid siB aig m’ larraid agus geib- faid siB bas ann Bur b-peacaid. — Briatra Criost aig Eon anns ant-octiiiad caib, 21 rann. A ta Criost aig bagairt an dm go n-imeocaid sb uainn, go d-tiuBarfaid se cul a cinn duinu ; agus ni se sin aiiiáin act go d-tiuBarfaid se cead sgairtid, agus garrta diiinn, aig larraid air a fillead agus nac d-tiuBarfaid se binn no aird orrain . — Quaretis me, et non invenientis (Jo. 7, SIJ : Agus mar Bárr druigille airar n-droc-ad go leigfaid sb duinn bas d’ fágail ann ar b-peacaidiB. O, a Cáirde, nac se so an sgeul dona ? Nac se so an sgeul tubaisteac aig an b-peacac ? Ca B-fuil breis no diogBail mar an m-breis so ? losa Criost imeact uainn ; fear cosanta agus cotuigte ar n-anam, taBairt cuil duinn ! Agus ni se sin amain, act an uair imbcas se, ma larramuid se a ris, nac B-fuigmuid se. Ni full fios agamsa, a cáirde, an sganruigeann siB-se aig clos na m-briatra marBac sud Criost ; act dearBuigim daoiB go n-eirigeann baspus agus crit-eagla orm fbin, gac uair a leigim siad anns an Scrioptuir. Air an adBai an SERMONS QF THE 135 ought not to have wept for — bewail now for the one thing most necessary. Shed in earnest tears from your inmost soul, and you will wash away your sins — you will quench the burning flame of hell that is being kindled for you. The supreme judge you will soothe and move to grant you mercy in this life, and to give you the reward of eternal glory in the life to come, which is a blessing I wish you all, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. SERMOiT VII. ON THE DANGER OP DELAYING PENANCE. “ I go away and you shall seek me, and you will die in your sins.” — St. John, 8 c., 21 v. Christ threatens to-day that He will depart from us ; that He will turn His back on us ; nay, more, that He will give us the sad liberty to be crying for Him, solicit- ing his return, and yet He will pay no attention, or give any heed to us (John, viiij; And to complete the manifes- tation of His indifference to our misfortune that He will let us die in our sins. O, my friends, is not this sad news ? Is not this un- fortunate news for a sinner ? What loss or deprivation can be equal to this ? Jesus Christ, the protector and enlivener of our souls, turning His back on us, and pro- mising that when He is gone, though we seek Him, we shall not find Him. I know not, my friends, whether you are astonished or not at hearing these saddening words of Christ. But I can assure you that, for my part, a feeling of agony and terror comes over me whenever I read them in Scripture. 136 MOST REV. DR. GALLAGHER. b-fuil nid IS mi-seuniiiar do ’n duine, ’na gan Ciiosfc d’ larraid, an B-fuilInid anns an domaniis tubaistig ’na larrad agus gan fag ail ? A-ct, a Criost, a Beuil na firinne, nár geall tu fóin do t-saogal, oia b’ ké d’ larrfad go B-fuigead, agus gac neay do Buailfad an dorus, go B-fuigead fosoailt ; agus nac B-fuil duine air bit a d’ lompocad ort le aitrige, nac d-taBairfa maiteamnas do . — Eerelinguat impius viam suam, et vir in- iquus cogitaiiojies suas^ et miser ebitur ejus (Zsa. 24, 7). Is fibr gur geall Dia gac nid dioBta soj agus tá se cinnte go n-déanfaid se mait dé, gid air cuntar, agus se an cun- tar sin, deir Naoiii Bernard, go n-iarrfaid se se ann am, agus go n-iarrfaid se mar is C(5ir. — Quid est quod non in- vcnilur quasitus. Cum aut non tempore deUto quoerunt^ aut siciit non oportet. Is siad ar b-peaeaid mar sin, a cairde, Beir air Criost CÚ1 a taBairt damn ; is siad ar b-peacaid a dibreas na grása uaion ; agus is si ar neaiii-aitrige anns na peacaidiB so, agus an fad-comniigad a gnid sinn annta, Beir orainn gan Criost d’ fagail an uair larramuid se, agus do Beir bas duiun ann ar b-peacaidiB . — Gum aut non tempore debito quaerunt, &c. Is air an faillige so do gmd mdr-mor an t-saogail de ’n aitrige, no go d-téid se tar am, is mian liom tract ann diu, tar ás mo comrad roinn ann da puinc. An te nac smuaineann air Dia, no air leas ’anama go úair an Bais, gnid se go mor-ihdr dearmad an uair sin de, sin an ceud punc. Ma smuanigeann an peacac an uair sin air í)ia, a ta se a g-contaBairt nac m-bideann tairBe do ann ; sin an dara punc. — Ave, &c. An ceud punc. A tá drong airid ann, dar b’ eol an uile cineal peacaid a déanad, act nac eol doiB coidce an SERMONS OF TEE 137 Can anything more unfortunate happen to a man than not to seek Christ ? Bat is there anything in the wide world more unfortunate than to seek Him and not to find Him. But, 0 Christ, the mouth of truth itself, hast Thou not promised unto the world, that whoever would ask should receive, and that to everyone that would knock, it should be opened, and that any person that would return to Thee by penance should obtain pardon. It is true that God has promised all these things ; and it is equally true that He will perform His promise, yet on condition, and the condition is, as St. Bernard says, that one seek Him in time, and seek Him as one ought. Therefore, my friends, it is our sins alone that cause Jesus Christ to abandon us, that banish graces from us, and it is our impenitence and our continuance in sin that prevent us finding Christ when we seek Him, and that cause us to die in our sins. It is on this delaying of pen- ance till it is too late, to which most people of the world are prone, I shall speak this day ; for that purpose I will divide my subject into two parts. Hirst — He who thinks not of God, nor of the salvation of his soul, until the hour of his death, generally forgets to do so then. Second — If the sinner think of God at that hour, ha runs the danger of obtaining then no benefit from it— • Ave Maria &o. First part — There is a certain class of persons addicted to every sort of vice, but who never think of repentance. There ifi nothing in the world so easy in their way than to provoke 138 MOST IlEY. Bli. OALLAGUEE. aitrjge. Ni fuil nid air bit is easguide a gnid s ad ’na fcarg a cur air Í)ia, a!,t m full nid anus an doiiian is do-dcanta aca ’na a siotcán a deanad leis an aitrige. NÍ full uair anus an 16 nac d-truaillid a g coinsias lois na lovltaib ; nfor tainic an uair agus ni tiocfaid coidce ann a nigfaid siad a n-anam le deoraib na aitrige. Act cad áe IB cial] do ’n t-suan liiarBac so ann a m-bileann an peacac P Cad se IS c:ali do ’n dearmad so gmd se d’ a sllnugad ? O, a tá cfuain a cuir^as an t-Anspiorad air, deir Naoih Agufstfn. Geallaid do, saogal fada agus am go leor ann a áiLrige, no go d-taingeann se air duiBeagan na n-olo. Deir se le fear na druise, gur feidir le.s a suaiihneas a glacad go fuill, go b-£ud am go leJr aige cdl taBairt do ’n liinaoi luige, an uair a tiocfas se ann aois. Heir se leis an b-fcar, aig a B-fuil cuid na coiiiursan air a liiiii, go B-fud am go leor aige ais-ioc a ddanad an uair a tiocfas se ann eaidBieais. Deir se le fear na m-breug agus na miunna mur, nac B-fud suim annta j agus ma ti, go B-f uil am go leor aige aitrige a dJanad annta le linn biis. Act an uair a tig an punc sin, ni Bideann de smuainugad aig an b-peacac ann sm air leas anama, act an oiread agus Bi riaih roiiiie. Tig diogaltas fior-ieart De air an liiuintir 60 , deir Naoiii Aguistin go n-dJanann siad dearmad d’a n-anam le Lnn bdis co mait a’s dearmad siad Dia le linn a ni-beala. Do gnid an diaBal an nid ceadna leis an liiuintir so, bud liiian le iiaos a deanad leis na labinitidiB, rdir mar a aiiristar anns an Scrioptuir. Ni glacfad Naas na la- binxtid cum site, no cum siotcain, ni taBarfad cadas no cuidead ddiB ait air cuntar go le.gfad siad do an t-su*l fleas do Buamt asta. — Ut eruam omnium ve&trum ccuEa (I Eej. II, 12). So trait, so canrad do gmd an diaBal leis an SJjJBMONS OF THE 139 G-od, but there is nothing in the world so difficult to them as to make their peace with Him by repentance. There is not an hour of the day in which they do not defile their conscience with vice, but the hour has not yet come, nor will it ever arrive in which they will wash their souls with the fruitful tears of penance. But what must be the cause of this baneful lethargy, which the sinner is in ? Or what must be the reason of this neglect of sal- vation ? Oh ! it is a delusion of the evil spirit, as St. Augustine remarks — the devil promises long life, and time enough for repentance, until he draws the sinner to the abyss of destruction. He tells the adulterer that he may still pursue his course of passion ; that he has time enough to turn away from the woman of his pleasure when he grows old; He tells the man who defrauds his neighbour that he has time enough to make restitution when he shall grow rich. He tells the liar and the swearer that their sins are but trifling, and ev^en if they are not, that it is time enough to repent of them at the time of death. But when that moment comes, the sinner then even thinks no more of his salvation than he had thought heretofore. The just judgment of God overtakes such people, as St. Augustine remarks, so that they forget their souls at the hour of death, just as during life they have forgotten their Lord and itlaker. The devil makes the same kind of contract with the people that Naas determined to make with the JabaniteSj as is recorded in Scripture. Naas would not enter into a league or truce with the Jabiuites ; he would not grant them either alliance or assistance, but only on the condi- tion that they should permit him to deprive them of the right eye — Ut eruam omnium vestrum oculos dextros . — 1 Reg. xi. This is the contract — this is the bargain which the 140 UtiOST nUT. T)Tl. GALLAOEEB. Auintir a cuireas a leas air cairde, a inireas an ailri^ air at-ld ; buaineann se an t-snil deas asta, se Bin dal- lann ee a n-inntleact, cuireann ceo an amfiois air a d-tuigse air mod nac leur doiB an poll dnibeagam end Ifrinn a ti £uta, agns siad ann a g-codlad air a Brnaó agus gan aig a g-congBail as, aót snáite beag caol na beata, agns nac B-£uil teagihuis da Inga nac m-bris£ad an snáite Bin. Ni smnainigeann siad air an g-contaBairfc marBaó ann a B-£uil siad air Bruac an poill so, no go-d-tig an bás gan motugad orra ; teid siad ann sin ann cnntuis gan ollmngad gan aitrige, agns o’n g-cnntus go fior lactar an poill so . — Infuteiim interihis (Psal. 54, 24^. Oc ! a peacaig da d-tigfa cad se olcas an loistin a tá faoi do coiiiair anns ann b-poll snd, deanfa air n-doig do dit- cioll ann a seacnad. Poll se ann a B-£uil an uile gnd easBa agus anrd, agns gan solas no Burtaét ; poll se ann a B-£uil an nile cineal páne, agns sin gan crioc, gan deire. Poll se as nacd-tig reac air bit air ais a tmteas ann — Ah Infernis nulla redem'ptio. O, maisead a peacaig, so an Scrioptnir Diada, so na Aitreaca Naoriita, so seanmortaid an doman aig taBairt raBa duit, ma rinne tu an peacad, agus gan aitrige a di^anad ann, gur b’ se an poll snd la loistin agus IS lonnad coihnuide duit. So Criost aig ta- bairt raBa duit, act muna d-treig£aid tu na locta, muna leas- faid tu do Beata ann am, go d-taBair£aid se cill duit, go d-tairngocaid a grasa uait, go leig£aid duit codlad air do peacaidiB le linn do Báis, ariiail as mar codlas tu orra anois agus go B-£uigir bas annia . — Et in peccato vestro moriemini (Jo, 8, 21) Is criteaglac an eisiomlair Beir an SpioradNaoih duinn anns an Scrioptuir, air an dearmad do gnid an peacac air i)ia ann aimsir an Bais an uair a dearmad se se air £ead a beata, a b-pearsam Saul, an ceud rig Bi air an b-pobul EaBra. SEHmNS OF TEE 141 devil makes with those who delay their conversion, with those who put off their repentance till a convenient day ; he puts out their right eye, that is, he blinds their inteU lects, and he thus throws the mist of ignorance on their understanding, so that they cannot behold the bottomless pit of hell beneath them, they, the while sleeping on its brink, nothing keeping them from falling into it but the slender thread of life, while the slightest accident might break that thread. Standing just on the very verge of this pit, they do not conceive the danger in which they ere until death seizes them unawares. They are then summoned to justice without preparation or penance, and from thence to the very abyss of this infernal pit. ^in puteum int eritus (Psa.1 liv. 24). O sinner ! if thou didst but know the sad lodging that is there before thee in that pit, I suppose thou wouldst do thy utmost to avoid it. It is a pit in which tlirre is every sort of want and misery, without any sort oT plea- sure or comfort. It is a pit in which there is evr / sort of torment without limit, without end. It is a pli3 from which no one ever returns. “ Out of hell there is no re- demption.” 0 sinner ! here are the sacred Scriptures, here are the Holy Fathers, here are all the preachers in the world giving thee warning, that if thou commit sin and repent not, this pit shall be thy everlasting abode. Here is Christ Jesus giving thee warning, that if thou do not forsake those evil ways, if thou do not reform thy life in time, that He will abandon thee, withdraw His graces from thee, let thee slumber on at the time of thy death, as thou dost now, and that thou shalt die in thy sins — Etin -peccato veslro moriemini (John, viii, 210 What a frightful example does the Holy Ghost give us in Scripture in the person of Saul, first king of Israel, of the sinner’s neglect of God, at the hour of death— that sinner who during life neglected Him. 142 MOST BT]V. BE. QALLAQBBIt. An iiair a inalaiil an prion sa neam-sona 6 ’n b-faid Samuel go raib Dia air ti gaj diogaltas do iur air a Bi se Bagairt a;r roiiiie sin, mar a ta go d-taBairfal a rigact do i)aiB], go taBairfad se se £ein suas d’ a namaid agus go marBo'aid se fein agus a clann anns an g-cat ann a raiB Be aig trial]. Av!t cad se do rmne Saul aig clos an sgeuil duBronaig so ? MeasCaid naó raiB ait aon md aihain le de'anad aige, se sin caBair d’ larraid air Dia a ditcioll a fleanad le ’n fearg do mao’ugad, aitrige ihurdo deanad, a Beata miriagalta do ciao'Iugal mar siiil go g-clao'loi'ad Dia a riin diogalfcais air. Dume air bib aig a m-beidead ciall, 13 mar so do dean fad se ; a’t Saul mor nac raiB cuiihne aige air í)ia air fead a Beata, dearmad se se an uair sin. Na smuaintid dúlasaéa Bi aige, air an droé-ad bi ann a ieann fein, agus a g-ceann a clainne, Buar siad intinn, dall siad inntleaét co mor sin, lonnos nar facas do meodain air bit do glacad le se fein, no siad-san do saBail iainic an la, tainic an uair, d’ orduig Dia le n-a diogal- tas do coimlionad. Cuaid Saul ann atracas anaiiiaide Bi aig teaet ann a agaid, agus se Bin de meataCt agus de laige. Do brisead air fein, agus air a ihuintir, agus marBuigad a clann, Bi se fein suil gac momeint leis an m-bás. Buailad saigead air, a lot se, agas mar do nieas Be gur, b’ se sin an saigead a cuir Dia le crioc a cur air a Beata d’larr se air fear d’ a liiuintir Bi ann aice, a cur as p.^in, agus mar do diultuig se a coiiiairle do glacad, do Beir se air a cloideaih agus do salt si steac ann a croide fdin, air mod, gur tuit se marB cum na talman. Sin agaiB Saul neam-sona, a rinne dearmad de í)ia ann a Beata, aig fagail bais ann eadotcus, ann a staid damanta ; Sin agaiB se aig deitfriugad le se fein a inr as pirn sao- galta go piantaiB sioruide Ifnnn. SEIIMCNS OF TIIF 143 When this unfortunate prince had heard from the pro- phet Samuel that God was resolved to execute the ven- geance on him with which He had threatened him before, that is, that He would give his kingdom to David, deliver him over to his enemies, and that he and his sons should be s’ain in the battle in which he was about to engage ; — > what did Saul do on hearing those tidings ? One would think that ho had but one thing to do, that is, to beg God’s pardon, to endeavour to avert his anger, to do great penance to reform his wicked life in order that God might be pleased to avert His intended vengeance from him. Any person endowed with common sense would act thus. But Saul, because he had had no thoughts of God during his lifetime, was unmindful of Him at this juncture. Thq melancholy thoughts with which he was overwhelmed concerning the misfortunes that awaited himself and his children troubled his mind, blinded his faculties to that degree that he could not conceive or devise any means to save either himself or his sons. Then came the day and hour which God designed to accomplish His vengeance \ — Saul, full of pusillanimity and weakness, went out to meet the foes who were coming against him ; his men were defeated, and his sons were killed ; he himself was expecting death every moment ; at last a spear struck him and wounded him : and, as he judged that was tho dart which God sent to terminate his existence, he desired one of his men who stood by to put him out of pain ; and when that man refused his icquest, he took his own sword and thrust it into his heart, so that ho fell dead on the ground. I Heg xxxi Here is the unfortunate Saul, who had forgotten God during his lifetime, dying in despair, dying in a state of perdition ; here he is hurrying to precipitate himself from temporal pains to the everlasting pains of hell. MOST BEV. DB. QÁLLAOHEB. 14 i O éaul neaiii-sona, is tubaisteac an nil so a d’ eirig duit ; IS longantac an claoclugal so tainic air do stáid. Tusa 13i ann do rig cumaHai ceannasac agus ann d* najtarán os cionn sluag, ta ta anois ann d’ la^tarin agns ann do scliljuil faoi erdbaiB an diabail ann Ifrionn. Ann ait na corónaj costusaige do bi air do ceann, a ti nait- rea'a niiiie mar coroin casta faoi do cloig'eann aorua siad ’g a ite agus ’g a crmn. Ann áit gac bid blasta bi air do bordaib, ni b-fuig tu feasda act rib mormonta agus brim- st^'n. x^nn ait gac dige blasta bi ann do corn, ni b-fuig tu le Ó1 feasda act domblas loga agus gafann. Ann áit aiiiairc soLísaig na grJine agus na geallaige agus reulta lonraca an aeir, ni feicfaid do suile coidce feasda act ceo doi\a agus psasta uatbasaca Ifnnn. ’X ait gac balaid cuiiira bi ann dotiomáoll m inotOv!aid do srón feasda, act breun- tas agus morcuidealt an poill lactaraig sud, Ann ait na g-ceolta agus na n-abran binne, ni cluinfaid do cluasa, act mairgnid agus eugnact dolasac na n-anam da manta x^nn áit do cuirte agus do taisleiin ni beid agat feasda, act uag doimsid dorca agus carcar cruaid cuiiiag. Ann ait do leaba sainio is eigin duit luide feasda aic greidea- laib deal ga agus air rdistimdib lasta. 0, a duine dona a ti anoiS a d-teintib aig do losgad, coiride aig do bruit, suistide aig do bualad, agus oird aig do brugad ; ni full ball no urlac diot, nac b-fuil faoi péin do-innste do-áirigte, agus beid tu aihla ni seactiiiain, no mi, no bliadain, no raite, aót CO fada a’s beideas Dia ann a Í)ia, no mairfas Ifrionn. — Discedite a Ttuiledicti inigncm aternam (Matt. 25, 41). 0 Saul, a Saul is lomla eiiii, agus sgread uaiU agus osna- agat an din fa olcas a’s cait tn d’ annsir air an t-®.ojaI 00, egus gan gar diut ann. SERMONS OF THE 145 0 unfortunate Saul ! what a woful doom thou hast met with ! what a wonderful change has come over thy con- dition ! Thou who were a potent, powerful monarch, and supreme lord over legions, art now an inferior and a base slave under the devil’s power in hell. Instead of the costly diadem that adorned thy head, serpents are twined about thy skull, eating and gnawing thee ; instead of every sort of delicious food that crowned thy board, thy food for the future shall be rue, wormwood, and brimstone; instead of delicious drink in thy cup, thy drink for ever more shall be gall and henbane ; instead of the consoling sight of the sun and moon, and of the lu- minous stars of the firmament, thy eyes will behold no- thing for ever more but gloorny mist and the ghastly spectres of hell ; instead of each fragrant perfume that surrounded thee, thy nose will inhale nothing ever more but the stench and nuisance of that infernal pit ; instead of sweet music and harmonious songs; thy ear shall ever more be stunned with the meanings and bowlings of damned souls ; instead of thy court- and castle, thy habi- tation for evermore shall be a dismal, dark grave, and a hard, narrow prison ; instead of thy soft, downy bed, thou shalt lie for ever on red gridirons and on flaming frying-pans. 0 miserable wretch that thou art ! there are now fires burning thee, and all the tormenting instru- ments of hell torturing thee. There is not a limb of thee or an inch of thee that is not pierced with inexpressible and exquisite torments, and thou wilt be so, not for a week, nor a month, nor a quarter, nor a year, but whilg God is God, and hell exists, O Saul ! Saul ! many a shout and scream, many a wail and sigh thou dost put forth to-day on account of tho wicked way thou didst spend thy time in this world ^ and, all this without avail, 146 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGEEB, Da m-beiclteióodubrajtac an seirbfs a dtianad doí)ia, agua bi tu urnal do ’n t-saogal, do 'n diabal, agus do 'n colam, ’n áit na daorbrdide ann a b-fuil tu, geabfa aoibneaa íartais. ’N áit cartanact no trocaire a deanad air do comursain > nior raib de stuidt^r cinnte agat, act cad he mar deanfá feall air an b-prionsa neaiii-ciontac Diibi. 'N áit trosgad, no cruatan a cur air do colain bg leig tu Brian le d’ anihianta, tug tu leigion do d’ antoil, cuir tu do leas air cdirde, ni d^arnaid tu an aitrige. Oc, da silft^a act aon deor aináin ann am mar grad air I)ia agus le fuat air do peacaid, miícfá na teinte sud a ta an did aig do losgad ; ihaolfd na áirm sud a ti an did aig do gearrad. (jeabfá aoibneas Partais ann dit na mór-piantaib ann a b-fuil tu- Oc da m-beidead act aon uair amain anois agat air an t-saogal BO cad he mar goilfda agus mar caomfda do peacaid. Oc cad se^liact scread agus éim do leigfáa air I)ia aig larraid trucaire. Deanfd gan amrus; act ni’l mait ann ; leig tu an t-am tart ; nior Bmuamig tu air i)ia le Imn do beaia, agus ni m6 'na Bin a Bmuamig tu air le linn do bdis ; agus d’a brig sin leig se duit bas d’ fagail ann do peacaidib. — Et in peccato veslrOj &c. Eirigeann an nid ccadna do gac aon eile, a cdirde, a cuireas a leas air ciirde mar Saul. Agus ni beag daoib mar crutugad air so, go b-feiceann Bib fern go laetaiiiail an liiuintir a bideas mi-riagalta droc-beatac ann a pldinte, dul cum bdis co claon d’a n-aninianta, co ceangaike de saidbrios, co deacrac ann ais-ioc a deanad, co cadranta ann a n-droc-beusaib a’s bi siad a riam roniie. Agus cad cuige ? Td, deir Soloiii, an nair a cranruigeas an peacac anns an ole go n-dirigeann neani-suim aige faoi deire ann Dia, no ann leas a anama . — Inipius cum in profundum venerit pecextoTum^ contemnit, — Prov. 18, 3. SERMONS OF TEE 147 If thou hadst been as diligent in the service of God as thou hadst been devoted to the world, to the devi\ and to your ownbody, — instead now of the dire captivity in which thou art, thou wouldst have posses- sion of the pleasures of Paradise ; instead of having friendship or mercy for thy neighbour, thou hadst no other fixed study but dwelling on the thought how thou couldst act foully towards Prince David ; instead of the practice of fasting and mortification for thy body, thou gavest free rein to thy inordinate desires ; thou gavest license to thy depraved will ; thou didst put off to a long day the amendment of thy life ; thou didst not do penanee. Oh 1 if thou hadst but shed, in time, one tear for the pure love of God, and hadst had a real abhorrence of sin, it would have quenched the fires that are burning thee ; it would have rendered blunt the weapons that are cutting thee ; thou wouldst now inherit the felicity of heaven, instead of the everlasting torments in which thou art. Oh, if thou hadst but one hour in this world, how thou wouldst bewail and lament thy sins ! Oh ! how many cries wouldst thou send forth imploring God to have mercy on thee ! Without doubt thou wouldst ; but it is useless. Thou hast let the time pass. Thou didst not think on God in thy lifetime, so neither didst thou think of Him at thy death, and therefore He allowed thee to die in thy sins The same thing, my friends, happens to every one who, like Saul, delays his conversion. As proof, yourselves may each day see dying those who have led unruly and wicked lives, as much given to vice, as attached to riches, as averse to make restitution, and as obstinate in their evil habits as they ever were in the days of their health and strength ; and why so ? Because, as Solomon re- marks, when the sinner hardens in his iniquities, he grows careless of God and of the salvation of his soul — Prov. viii. 148 MOST BEV, DB. OALLAGHEU. Oc, mo truaige, cad se liact duine druiseaihail a con^ nairceas, agus a cidtear aig fagail Báis aim act na méirdrige le a raiB se aig imeact I'e linn a slainte ? Cad se liact duine feargac cidmuid dul ann bais agus a g-croide laii de riin diogaltais, aig dniltugad maiteamnais a taBairt nata ann am nac B-fuil maiteamnas le fagail aca fém act muna d-tugaid siad maiteamnas do 'n t-saogal. Cad se liact duine a Bideas tugta d’ easgcaoine agu3 do mionna mura cidmuid dul cum báis, agus go minic is droc eit te no mionna mdr an focal deigionac tig as a m-beul ; b’ feidir ann ait ainm Dé no Muire gur diaBal no deaman do luaidfead siad ; cad se meud a cidtear de drong uaiBreac dul ann bais co lionta de gldr diomaoin a’s Bi siad a riaiii ann a m-beata. O a droing malluigte, Beir siB fdin suas do ’n ole air fead Bur m-beata ni longantac horn nac d-tig liB buaid do Breit air an droc-gnás leanas siB ann Bur sláinte, le linn Bur m-bais. Is neam-iongantac liom siB aig ddanad dearmaid de Dia anns an b-punc sin, co mait a’s dearmaid siB se air fead Bur saogail. Act cuir a g-cas go nguidfead an peacac Dia anns an b-punc deigionac siid, a tá se lán de contaBairt nac m-bideann tairBe dd ann, rdir mar tairgfeas md crutugad anns an dara punc. An dara punc. — A tá da nid riactanac aig an duine ionnos go m^^bud feidir leis aitrige no deag-gmoiii air bit a deanad mar a tá grasa De, agus toil saor, ann coni- oibriugad leis na grasa. A tá se cinnte nac B-fuil peacac air bit da olcuis no da graineariila beata, nac feidir leis le congnad na ngrasa a Beata leasugad agus a slánugad.-^ Omnia ’possum in eo, qui me conjO)tat (Phil. 4s, 13.) Se mur-cuiiiacta na ngrasa so a tarraing agus d’ lompuig Pol 6 n-a Beit ’nn a leomaa millteac agus ann a scriosaddir SljJBMONS OF THF 149 Oh, alas ! how many addicted to last have I seen, and do see still departing this life in the bosom of his sensual partner, still to the last pursuing a course which they had pursued in the time of health ! How many persons do we see dying, and their hearts full of the desires of re- venge, refusing to pardon others, at a time that they can- not expect pardon unless they forgive the whole world I How many persons addicted to cursing and swearing do we see dying, and it frequently happens that a curse or an oath is the last breath that comes from their mouth ; perhaps, instead of calling on the name of God or of the Blessed Virgin, it is the devil they call on, or the demon’s name they utter ! How many of the proud, supercilious class do we see dying as full of vain-glory as ever they were in their lifetime ? O accursed generation ! who abandon yourselves to evil during your life, it is not surprising that you cannot, at the hour of death, conquer these wicked habits which you have followed in the time of health. It is not surprising, in my opinion, that you forget God at that critical mo- ment, as well as you forget Him during your lifetime ; but suppose the sinner would implore God in that final period, even then he is in the greatest danger that his pe- tition must prove ineffectual to him, as I shall endeavour to sliow in the second part. Second-^There are two things necessary for man, in order that he may do penance or good works : (1^ the grace of God, and (2) a free will to co-operate with di- vine grace. It is certain that there is no person, let his life be ever so wicked and abominable, that may not, with the assistance of divine grace, reform his life, and be saved — Omnia jpossim in eo gui me confortat [Phil. iv. 48.; It is the power of divine grace that drew and converted St Paul from being a furious lion and a destroyer of the 150 JdOSr BEV. DR. OALLÁGHEE. air Eaglai3 Oriosfc, ann a beit'ann a fear cosanta cuiiiactai; agus ann a planti^ir air an Eaglais c^adna. Se grasa an Tigearna nnne deisciobal do Cnost de lilata 6 n-a belt ann a puibliocanac scanalac. Nac le oibrmgad na ngrása tairic Naoih Aguistm ann a belt ann a Idcrann soilseac le naoihtact agus le foglaim ann Eaglais Dd <5 n-a belt ann a carraig eincideacta agus ann a duine mi-nagalta droc- beatac ? Nac se mur-tuile na ngrása a rmne bean-naoim oirdeirc, agus scatán de gac aitrigeac, de Muire Magdalen tar ^is SI belt ann a camra aig gac ole, agus aim a luistin salac aig diabail Ifrinn ? Is se gan aiiirus. Ni’l nid air bit do-deanta aig grása Dé. Omnia possum, dc. Act ar raib d’ fiaca air Dia na grása so tabairt do ’n droing slid ? Nior raib gan aiiirus. Air an adbar gur de rbir a tola fbin gan ualac, gan oibliogáid a romneas Dia a tiodlaca ; agus ni gac am, act an uair a togrocos aiháin. — Spir'dus ubi vult spiral (lo. 3, 8), Agus mar sin gur gniom mire do ’n liiuintir a cuireas an aitnge air at-la amail a’s mar beidead se d’ fiaca air í)ia grasa na aitrige tabairt duiB gac am, agus gac uair a togrocadis. Act cia an uair a nnne Dia an trocaire so air an inuint:r Slid. Cia an uair a nnne siad an aitrige láidir siid, d» árduig siad ann a m-beit anu a reulta soilseaca a g-ciiirt Oriost. 0, tá le linn a neairt agus a slainte. Co luat agus d’ fosgail solus na ngrasa a siiile lonnos gur leur d(5ib an cuma glonnmar bi air a n-anam, agus an staid damanta ann a raib siad, nior cuir siad a leas air cáirde act tug siad agaid air Dia leis an aitrige. D’ larr siad trdcaire an uair a bi se le fagail aca, agus d’ a brig sin, fuairadar éé. — Queer ite Dominium dum inveniri potest {^Isa 55, 6.) Maisead cuir a g-cas a criostaid, go leanfad Naom SERMONS OF TEE 151 Church of Christ, to be a powerful protector of the same Church, and a planter of the seeds of its divine doctrine. It is the gv ce of God that made St Mathew a disciple of Jesus Christ, after he had been a scandalous publican. Is it not through the efBect of divine grace that St Augustine became a bright luminary of piety and learning in the Church of God, from having been a rock of heresy, and an impious and wicked liver ? Is it not the miraculous work of divine grace that made a pure saint, and a mirror to all penitents, of Mary Magdalen after she had been a foul receptacle of all evil and a filthy abode of infernal fiends ? There is nothing impossible to the grace of God. But was God obliged to confer these graces on those persons ? Certainly not, because it is of His own free will, without penalty or obligation, that He distributes His gifts, and not at all times, but just when He pleases. John, iii. 8. And, therefore, it is real madness for any person to postpone their conver sioDj as if God were obliged to give them the grace of re- pentance whenever they would desire it. But when did God confer this mercy on these people ? When did they perform this effectual penance that has exalted them to be shining stars in Christ’s court ? It was during the period of their vigour and their healthy as soon as the light of divine grace had opened their eyes so as to behold the loathsome state of their souls, and the state of perdition in which they were. They did not delay their conversion, but instantly they had recourse to God by repentance ; they sought for mercy while it was to be found, and therefore they obtained it.-““ Seek the Lord while He can be found.” (Isaias, 55, 6.) Now, supposing, my friends, that St Augustine had l52 MOST BEV. DR. GALBAGREB. Aguistin do ’n eiricideact go oríoá a beata, go leanfad sé go pane an Báis, do ’n mnaoi bi greamuigte de, na6 d-tabairfad sé ciil do na peacaid no go d-tugfad na peaoaid ciil d(5-san, nac n-iarrfad se maiteamnas no go d-tigfad pian an tmnis, agus eagla an Báis air a larraid : an measann tu go b-fuigead bg trdcaire no bisteact an nair sin ? Act cia le d-tig an ceist so d’ fuascailt nios feárr ’na Naom Aguistm féin ; ni’l gan amrus. Maisead, se deir an doctiir naoihta, an aitrige do gnid an peacac aim a tinneas agus ann a laige, go m-bideann si co lag, agns go b-fagann si bas go fíornnjr ann aonfeact leis ; agus d’a brige sin gur cóir do gac aon, aitrige a deanad ann a slamte, lonnos go m-beid an t-anam slán anns an t-siorui- deact. JDeir sé linn ann áit eile gur ánam bideas an aitrige mall tairbeac no sona — P(£nite7itia sera est raro vera. Act deir se os a cionn so, nid bud cóir crit-eagla agus uaiiian a cur air peacaigib an t-saogail, se sin ’measg na milte agus na milte dume do gnid aitrige mail, gur air éigin saortar aon dume amain aca. Ex centum millitus hominum, qmrum mala fuerit vita in morte divinam iun dulgcntiam vix ohtineUt unus, Má deir tu, a criostaid, go n-dearnaid Dia tr'caire air gadaid na láime deise a b-puno an bais, tar éis a belt riaih le ole ; agus go m-b’ fádir go n-d^anfad an trucaire c^adna ort-sa_: Oc, a peacaig boict, ni’l agat air sin act “ b’ feidir,” agus ma cuireann tu an t-sioruideact a g- contabairt le b’ feidir, beir tu le tuicsmt do 'n t-saogal nac b-fuil meas agat ann gloir sioruide; nac b-fuil binn agat air do slánugad, no acara air bit le pianta Ifrinn Fuair an gadaide so, deir Naom A.guistin, trócaire a b-puac an bais tar éis a beit riaih an a peacac, lonnos nac m-bei^ dead ea-dotcus air aon dume.; A:t 6 tils an t-saogail go SERATONS GF THE 153 persevered in heresy to the end of his life ; that he had in the hour of his death clung to the woman with whom he had been in sin - that he had not renounced his sins, until sin had renounced him ; that he had not sued for pardon till the anguish of sickness and the fear of death had ex- torted it from him', do you think he would have obtained mercy, or have his prayer heard at that critical time ? But who can solve the question better than St. Augus- tine himself ? l!^one, certainly. Then the holy doctor soys, that the repentance which the sinner does in his sickness and hours of feeble health, is so weak that it generally dies along with it, and therefore that every one should do penance in the time of his health, in order that the soul might be heakd for all eternity. He tells us in another place, that late repentance is seldom fruitful or successful — “ Hepentance long due, is seldom found true.’* But what the same author adds should, indeed, terrify all the sinners in the world, that is, that amongst the thou- sands of ihousands of people who make a repentance late, hardly one shall be saved. If thou sayest, dear Christians, that God has had mercy, at the moment of death, on the thief who was being crucified at His right hand, after he had been, his life long, given over to the commission of evil, and that, therefore, there is a probability He will have the like compassion on thee. Oh, poor sinner, thou hast no infer- ence to draw fiom that except a probable one — a mere “ perhaps” ; and thou dost put thy eternal salvation in danger by resting on a mere probability. Thou showest plainly to the whole world that thou settest no high value on the possession of everlasting glory ; that thou hast no regard for thy salvation, nor any distaste for the pains of hell. This tiiief on the cross obtained mercy at the last moment, after having been a sinner before that, in order to make manifest, as St Augustine says, that no one should despair. But from the beginning of the world 154 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGEEB. d-ti an uair so, ni Migtear air aon duine a cuir an aitrige go punc an Báis, agus a fuair trocaire, aót an t-aon gadaid so ; agus mar sin de ni’l adbar an-dotcuis aig aon duine. — Ihius est^ ul non des^eres, sed unicus est, ub non pra^sumas (S. Auj.) Leigtear anns an Scripti’lr, go d-tug an dis taoisige croda Abner agus Sioab cata mJr d’a cede j agus mar a Bi dul air Abner, ann deire an lae, gur glac se cuimirc air Sioab, agus gur larr se fósad comBraic. Is mall laBair tu air Sicab tar dis mo diogBáil a déanad; da n-iarrfá síotcáin air maidin geaBfá si . — Si locutus fuisses mane, recesissel 2 )opulus persequens (2 Beg. 2,21). Oc, a cairde, is direac do gnid peacaig na áimsire so aitris air Abner ; tar éis siad a Beit a troid faoi BratacaiB an diaBail aim agaid T)6 6 liiaidin a saogail go d-ti trat- ndna a m-beata, larrann an sin comairc air í)ia. Act is baogalac doiB go n-dearfar leo, da n-iarrfad siad trucaire air maidin, se sin an uair a Bi siad ann a neart agus ann a slainte go B-fuigead si . — Si locutus fuisses mane, &c. Act air sgat Beit aig larraid maiteaiiinais, a d-tratnona a m-beata tar (iis a Beit a d-treus air Dia, agus a brisead a dlige 6 liiaidm a m-beata go d-ti aii punc sin, dearBuigeann an Spiorad Naoih nac B-fuil difeact le fagail aca . — Tunc inioeahwnt me et ego non eocaudiam (Prov. 1. 28). A tá siád lán de contaBairt go n-direocaid dBiB mar d’ éirig do ’n rig uaiBreac Antiocus. Do rinne an prionsa malluigte so mijran oilc do pobul Dc, vnar a Bi na ludaige an uair sin. Nior leor leis sin, Bi se teact an dára úair go deitfreac agus an lomad sluagta ann a cuideact, ann nios mo oilc a de'anad doiB, gid gur tuit air an m-bealac as a coiste air mod gur bruigead a cnaiiia go iomlán. Sin mar do leag lam Dé ann talman SERMONS OF THE 155 even to the present, there is no record of any one who, having deferred to the last moment to do penance, ob- tained mercy, save the good thief ; and the only lesson to be drawn from that fact is, that no one should despair — »ed unicus est ut non prasumas (S. AugJ. It is narrated in sacred Scripture that the two brave generals, Abner and Joab, had engaged in battle — the army of the one against that of the other ; and that as the fight was, at the close of the day, going against Abner, he sought an act of grace from Joab, and accordingly implored for a cessation of hostilities. Joab replied, you have spoken late, after I have now committed already so much havoc. Why not have sued for peace in the morn- ing ? Oh ! my friends, it is a manifest thing to all that sin- ners of this period act as Abner had acted. After they have been fighting under the banner of the devil against God, from the morning of their existence to the eve of their lives, they then ask protection from God. But it is to be feared He will tell them that if they would have asked for mercy in the morning, that is, when they were in their vigour, and in their health, they should have ob tamed it ; but to sue for pardon at the eve of their latest day, after having been in rebellion against God, and hav- ing transgressed His law till that period, the Holy Ghost gives assurance that they will* not be heard ; ‘‘ Then they will call on me and I will not hear them.” — Prov. i. They are in real danger of meeting with the same fate which that proud king, Antiochus, met. This accursed prince had done a great deal of evil to the Jews, who were at that time the chosen people of God. He was not content with all he had done, but he was coming the second time with full speed, attended by vast multitudes in order to do them more injury. He fell by the way from his chariot, so that all his bones were 15G MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB.] an t-impii e so, a Bi co úaiBreaó sin, lonnos gur ihcas se smai:t a cur air tonna na mara ; agus sil se se ft'in a Beit CO árd leis na reulta. Act se d’ (^irig do, gur loB a cnid feola, gur raiB se aig tuitim as a ceile ann a spollaid. Do Buain, an cuma glonnmar ann a B-£acaid se sé fein, an admail ilr-i’osal so as : — “ rinne me,” air se, ‘‘ an lomad eagcora agus ni’l me aig larraid air Dia fadugad saogail, act lonnos go d-taBair£ainn sasaiii annta. Tug me mionna go sgriosfainn an pobul ÉaBrac, agus tá run agam aiiois ann ait a sgrios oiread saorsa agus prioBlaeid taBairt duiB, agus a tá aig mo liiuintir fein. Geall mé aon reillic arháin a deanad de catair Serusalem leis an sgrios agus an marBugad do Beirfainn orta ; act geallaim anois go n-dean- faid me an catair is saidBre anns an doiiian di, Bcarfaid mé air ais gac nid do tug me as teampul na caitreac so. leor liom so ; bí5id me air aon creideaiii leis an b-pobul ÉaBrac : Imeócaid me air fead an t-saogail, ni le armail riiGr mar bud gnatac liom act mar seanmuraid aig innseact gloire agus mir-cuiiiacta Di. Cad si deir siB, a cáirde, le aitrige de ’n cineil so ? Dá B-£eicfea duine air bit £agail Bais le olliiiugad de ’n gni so nac m-beidead meas naoiiiacta agaiB air ? Nac nguidfad siB Dia le n-a leitid de Bás a taBairt daoiB £iin ? Act iistid, air a sou sin, cad se deir an Spiorad Naoiii leis an b-peacac so, a cuir a leas air ciirde go ám an Bais ? Oc, a deir se, ann aiiiideoin a deora, ann airiideoin a osnaid, ann aimdeoin a Brim, ann aiindeoin a aitrige, ann aiiiideom gac aisioc do geall d’ a coiiiarsain, nac raiB iisteact no tricaire le £agail aige. — Orahit liic t:el s'us Djmmum a quo non est misericordlam coiisecu'us (JSIacah. ii. 9, 13.) Muna m-beit gur b’ se an Spiorad Naoih a deir na briatra so ; muna m-beit gur anns an Scrioptuir Diada a tiid grai- SEBM0N8 OF THE 157 contused. Thus the hand of God struck to the ground this emperor who had been so presumptuous as to think he could subdue the waves of the sea, and to raise him- self as high as the stars. But what happened was, that his flesh melted away, and that it fell off in small pieces. This loathsome state in which he beheld himself, forced from him this humble confession — “ I have done a deal of injustice, and all I beg of God is, time suflicient to atone for all. I made a vow that I would extirpate the Israelites, but now, instead of doing so, I am resolved to give them as many immunities and privileges as my own people enjoy. I vowed that I would make a cemetery of the city of Jerusalem, with the destruction and carnage which I should have made of its people ; but now I pro- mise to make it the richest city in the world ; I shall re- turn every article that I brought from the temple of that city ; all this even is not enough ; I shall be of one religion with the people of Israel ; I shall go through the world, not with hostilities as usual, but as a preacher proclaiming tlie glory and majesty of God. What, my friends, do you say to a repentance of this kind ? If you should see any person dying with such sentiments as these, would you not form a good opinion of him ; would you not ask God to grant you a death like that ? But still give ear to what the Holy Ghost says to the sinner who postpones his conversion to the hour of his death. O ! he says, despite his tears, despite his sighs, despite his penance, despite every restitution he had promised his neighbours, yet he would obtain neither a hearing nor mercy. — “ This wicked man prayed to God for mercy, and yet he received it not.” Were it not the Holy Ghost that expressed these words, were it not that 158 MOST BEV. Eli. GALLAGHER. Lealta, m creidfainn siad. Ait a taid ann, sgrioljta peann an Spioraid Naoiiii ; agas beid go deire an domain cum criotnugad agus eagla a cur air gac peacac do gnid aitrige liiall, mar rinne Antiocus. — Orabat hie scelestus &c. O, a peacaig. a gnideas aitris air Antiocus, nac n-iarrann trucaire ann am, tiocfaid an lá bud aitreao leat ; tiocfaid an lá ann a m-beid tu ann do luide a leaba an báis, agus gan lut ann do Baill, no brig ann do cuisleanna. Tioc- faid an lá ann nac a d-tig le hag air bit talmaid cabair do tabairt duit. Cad se a deanfas tu ann sin ? Sin tu millte, sin tu caillte. A tá tu ann sin a meodan bealaig Partais agus Ifrinn, agus cia aca air a d-tabairfaid tu d’ agaid. Ma’s suas bud liiian leat triall, geabfaid tu tu fein meallta ; air an adbar go b-f uil dorsa Pártais diinta romat. Ni deacaid ariaiii agus ni raéfaid coidce, nid air bit co truailligte leis an b-peacad go rigeact Neime. Cá racfaid tu mar sin ? Ni go Purgadóir a raefas tu, ni fid tu did ann. O, is se is luistin duit an poll dorca dumsaid sud Ifrinn ; sin se beul-foscailte faoi do coiiiair. Sin na coiride aig fiucad, na teinte air lasad ; a ta mdr-pianta Ifrinn ollihuigte faoi do comair. A tá an Spiorad deaiii- naid mar leoman lán de ciocras réid ann do struct a. Ni’l fear do cosanta agat air an ármáil liialluigte sdd, a tá tiomcioll do leaba, rM leigte ann d’ fuadac leo ; air an adbar go d-tug aingle agus naoiii Pártais cdl duit ; ni tig leo dombalad do peacaid do fulaing, Cuir Muire Beau- tigearna suas duit, nior larr tu congnaiii ann am airsi. A tá an uile bealac ddnta roniat, act Ifrionn aiiidin — Pericula inferni invencrunt me (Ps. 17^. Ca d-tabairfaid tu mar sin d’ agaid r Ma’s air í)ia larrfas tu cabair, dearfaid leat gur gair se ort go minic ann do slainte le beul an SERMONS OF THE 159 they have been written in the Holy Scriptures, we would not give them credence ; but all those were written by the inspiration of the Holy Ghost, and will be true to the end of time, in order to alarm and terrify every sinner who puts off his repentance, as Aiitiochus did. O ! thou sinner, who iniitatest Antiochus, who dost not implore mercy in time, the day will come when thou shalt be sorry. The day will come when thou wilt be lying on thy death bed, without any feeling in thy limbs or in thy nerves ; the day will come when no earthly physician can relieve thee. What^wilt thou do then? — Thus, thou art ruined — thus thou art lost ; thou art, as it were, in a mid- way between paradise and hell. Which side wilt thou turn to ? If it be upwards, say thou art resolved to go thou shalt find thyself deceived, because the doors of Paradise are closely barred against thee. Into that home nothing corrupt like sin has entered, or ever shall enter. Where then wilt thou go ? It is not to purgatory — thou art not worthy of going there. 0 ! the dismal, dreary pit of hell shall be thy abode ; there it is, mouth open, to receive thee. The cauldrons are boiling up, the fires are being kindled, the torments of hell are prepared for thee, the infernal spirits, like lions goaded by ravenous hunger, are ready to tear thee j for “ as a roaring lion he goes about, seeking whom he may devour.” Thou hast no one to guard thee from this cursed army which is about thy bed, ready to snatch thee away, be- cause the angels and saints of Paradise have abandoned thee. They could not endure the foulness of thy sins. The Blessed Virgin, too, has forsaken thee ; thou didst not seek her assistance in time; every place is barred against thee but hell alone — Pcricula h^ferni inveiierunt me (Fs. xii.^ : then Avhere wilt thou turn thyself to ? If it be from God thou seekest relief, He will tell thee that He often called upon thee in thy health by the mouth 160 MOSr BEV. DB. GALLAGEEB. t-seanm(5raid, le beul an oide faoisidine, do Beata a leasu- gad agus an aitrige a déanad, agu3 iiac d-tug tu torad air, gur raib a laiha sinte cugat le na grasa air fead laete do Beata agus se tug tu cdl do cinn do. — Vocavi et renuistis (Prov. 1, 24). Gairfaid tusa air-san, anois a leaba an Báis, larrfaid tu trucaire ann deire an lae mar Antiocus agus beid tu lán contaBairt gan éisteaót d’ fa- gail act oiread leis-san. — Tutic invuccbbunt me, et non eccaudiam ; mane consurtjent d twu iiuenient me {Prov. 1, 28;. ’ííois, a óáirde, a tá an t-am ceart le fogmar Bur n-anam do deanad, agus ni se geiiiire fealltac an Báis j deanaid siol-cur na suBáilce ’nois le linn earraig Bur slamte ma’s mian liB fogmar. na gloire do Buaint a b-Partas j togaid Bur g-croidte ’nois anu Dé, an uair a tá a laiiia sinte cugaiB le n-a grása. larraid dcirce de ’n irócaire air Mac na trocaire; silid Bur n-deora ; buailid Bur n-uct ; bidead dulás oraiB faoi Bur b-peacaid an liieud go B-fuilid ann agaid mordacta agus maiteasa Di. Má gnid siB sin 6 croide geaBfaid siB maiteaiiinas 6 I)ia anns an t-saogul so agus au gluir sioruide anns an t-saogal eile. Amen. AN T-OCTMAI) SPANMOIP, AIR GAJb CUMAOINEAC NEASl-GtLAN A ÚEANAÍ). Eicitefilix Ston, ecce Bex tioiis uenit tibi maiimdm. Innsid d' mgin Sioin, feuc, a tá do rig triall cugat go ciuin — Briatra an Spioraid Naoim aig Mata anns ann cuigiiiad rann de ’n aoniiiad caibidil ficead. SERMONS OF THE 161 of thy instructor, or by the mouth of thy confessor, to reform thy life and to do penance, and thou gavest Him no heed — that His hands were stretched out to thee with His graces in thy life-time, and that thou turnodst thy back to Him — (Prov. .i 24), Thou wilt call upon Him now, on thy death bed ; thou wilt sue at the close of thy day, like Antiochus, for mercy, and thou wilt be in danger of not being heard, just as much as he had been. Now, my friends, you have the right time for making the harvest for your souls, and not the treacherous winter of death. Sow now the seed of a virtuous life in the spring time of your health, if you wish to reap the harvest of glory in paradise, Eaise up now your* hearts to God, whilst His hands are stretched out to you with His divine grace — implore mercy of the Son of Mercy ; — shed tears, strike your breasts ; have a real sorrow for your sins, in- asmuch as they are opposed to the majesty and goodness of God. If you do so from your hearts, you will obtain pardon from God in this world, and eternal glory in the next. Amen. SERMON VIII. ' ON THE DANGER OF MAKING AN UNWORTHY COM- MUNION. Dicite Jilice Sion, ecce Bex tuus venit tibi mansuejtus. “ Tdl ye the daughters of Sion, behold thy King cometh to thee meehB — St. Matthew, xxi. 5 162 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. An uair a biSeas prionnsa talmaid teaet go nuad cum tire air bit nó aig atrugad 6 catair go catair, is gnatac teactaire a cur roiihe ann raba tabairt do na daoine na beallaige a deasugad, na sráideanna a glanad, agus gan nid air bit a belt anns an rod cuirfead mí-stáid air an b-prionnsa so, do cuirfead toirmeasg air a aistir. Mar an g-ceadna roiiii Mac T>é a teact anns an t-saogal so, cuir sé na faidid mar teactairid roime, go raib se aig triall cuoa, go d-tabar£ad solus na ngrása dóib ann áit an dorca- dais agus an antos ann a raib siad, go scaoilfead siad as cuibreacaib an peacaid, agus go saorfad siad ó sclábact an Diabail . — Excite Filioe, Sion, ecce Bex tuus venit, &c. Tar éis Criost a teact anns an t-saogal so, agus colan daonda do glacad, cuir Eon Báisde mar teactaire roiiiie ann sgeul solasac so a tabairt do ’n doman. Ni deacaid sgit air an teactaire ainglid so, act aig tabairt raba do na poibleacaib mbra, a g.comsias a deasugad, sraideanna a n-anama a scnirad agus a glanad 6 ’n uile sal peacaid, agus an aitrige a diiauad . — Parate viam Domini, rectos facile semitas cjits (Mat. Hi., 3.) Tainrc Criost an dm go catair Serusalem agus tainic múrán de’n pobal ann aracais, craoibeacapáilme, agus udair ann a laihaib, mar coiiiartaib luatgaire ; agusionnusgo d-taisbeanfad siad meud naónóra bi acafaoi coiiiáir Criost, sgaradar a g-cuid eudaig air na bealaigib faoi n-a cosaib. — Siraverunt vestimenta suo in via (Mat. 21, 8.) Nior raib beag no mur, 6g no scan aca nac raib air aon gáir aiiiáin aio- tabairt molta a^us buideacais do Criost faoi an onbir o o rinne doib, teact air cuairt cuca . — Benedictus qui venit in nomine Domini (Ibid). 0, a catair Serusalem is aoibinn duit agus K/ig Neiihe agus talihan teact an dm faoi do ballaide. Is aoibinn duit, losa Criost, slanuigteor an SERMONS OF THE 153 When an earthly prince is coming for the first time iv any country, or removing from one city to another, it is customary to send messengers before him, to give warning to the people to repair the passages, to clear the streets, and to have nothing in the way that would displease the prince or retard his journey. In like manner, previously to the Son of God coming to this world, He sent the prophets as messengers before Him, to warn the people that His coming was at hand ; that He would give them the light of divine grace, in- stead of the darkness and ignorance they were in ; that He would loose them from the bonds of sin, and release them from the slavery of the devil. — Dicite filim Sion, ecce rex hais veniL After Jesus Christ had been born and had taken our human nature. He sent J ohn the Baptist as His precursor to convey the joyful tidings unto the world. This angelic messenger did not cease to warn the people to repair the highways of their conscience, to cleanse and purify the streets of their souls from every stain of sin, and to do penance. — Parate viam Domini ; rectas facite semitas ejus (^Matt. 3. 3). When Jesus Christ approached — in the words of the text — the city of Jerusalem, a great number of the peo- ple came forth to meet Him, carrying branches of palm and of yew in their hands, as an emblem of joy. That they might show the greater homage to Christ, they spread their garments under His feet. There were neither great nor small, young nor old, amongst them but joined in one continued acclamation, rendering praise and thanksgiving to Jesus Christ, for the honour He had done in visiting them : “Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.” 0! city of Jerusalem, happy art 164 MOST BBV. BE. Q ALL AGREE. cinne daonda teact an dm aig d^anad teagaisg seanmdire duit. Ni B-fuil longantas orm faoi iheud do luatgáire agus an ulgáirdis a tá ort. Ni B-fuil longantaa orm faoi a g-cluininn de ceoltaib agus d’ aBránaiB molta, air fead do sráideanna roiih losa . — Hosanna Filio David (Matt. 21, 9.) An ondir ceadna rinne Oriost do catair Serusalem an dm deanfaid daoiB-se a cáirde ann aimsir naomta na casga so ; tiocfaid se air cuairt cugaiB air an altdir so, agus ni le lamaiB falaina ; Bdarfaid leis saidBreas na ngrása agus gaó maiteas ; deanfaid arus agus lonad coinnuige de Bur n-anam Tá mise teact cugaiB marteactaire,an raBa taBairt daoiB,;siB fdin d’ollniugad faoi n-a coinair, an uile aiiiireidteact tdgBáil as a slige, bealaige mdra Bur g-comsiais a gleus agus a leasugad, catair Bur anama a cur ann ordugad ann a glacta — Ecce Bex tuus venit HU mansuetus (Mat. 21. 4.} Maisead air ceiste, a cairde, go m-beidead cuairt Críost ann aisce cugaiB-se, agus ann ait Bur slanuigte rdir mar is mian leis, gur b’ se an nid a ddanfad siB Bur n-damnugad, a tá sd riactanac agam-sa, a cur ann Bur g-coiiiair, an mod air ar cdir daoiB a glacad. Sd liieasaim nac d-tig liom so a ddanad mbs fearr, no solus do taBairt daoiB air iheud na diOgBala a tá cumaoineac neaiiiglan a ddanad : ^id a tairg- feas me a crutugad tar dis mo coiiirad a roinn ann dá punc. ISTi’l peacad air bit co mdr le Corp Criost a glacad air droc" staid, sin an a ceud punc. Tá coingiallaige airide riac- tanac ann a glacta air deag-staid, sin an dara punc . — Aue Maria, &g. i^n ceud punc — Is lomaid sgiilrsa agus trom diogaltus a cuir JDia air na daoine 6 ám go ám faoi na peacaidiB. Báit sd an doihan leis an dile, act octar ; loisg sd le teine as na Flaitis na caitreaca mdra, Sodom agus Gomorra ; cuir SEEM0N8 OF THE 165 thou that the King of heaven and earth is coming this day under thy walls. Happy art thou, Jesus Christ, the Saviour of mankind, coming this day to instruct and to edify the people. I make no wonder, at all the joy and exultation they are in. I make no wonder, at all the music and hymns that resound throughout the streets be- fore Jesus — “Hosanna to the Son of David.” (Mat. xxi. 9). The same honour that Jesus paid the city of Jeru- salem, He will pay unto you, my brethren, in the holy time of Easter ; He will pay you a visit on the altar, and will bring with Him the treasures of divine grace and all good. He will make His dwelling in your souls. I come to you also as a messenger to give you warning to pre- pare yourselves for His reception, to remove every ob- stacle out of His way, to repair the highways of your conscience, and to put the city of your souls in order for receiving Him properly . Then, lest, my brethren, the visit of Christ should be of no use to you, and should, instead of bringing you salva- tion, according to His intention, prove your condemnation, it is necessary for me to lay before you the manner in which you should receive Him worthily. I think I can- not do this in a better way than by giving you some in- sight into all the evils that unworthy communions pro- duce, which I shall endeavour to do by dividing my sub- ject into two parts. First — There is no sin so great as to receive the Body of Christ unworthily. Second — There are certain conditions necessary for receiving Him worthily — Ave Maria, &c. First point — Many a scourge, inflicting an awful punish ment, God has sent upon mankind, from time to time, on account of their sins ! He drowned the world, except 166 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGEEB. pláig agus gorta go mmic air na Íudaigib ; act ni leiga- mmá air gné peacaid air bit, fo a n-deanann Dia diogaltus nios minice agus nios diBfeirge 'na fo 'n gné peacaid, d’ a n-goireann diadairide naoih-aitis ; se sin tarcuisne, no droc-meas a tabairt air Dia ; no droc-usáid a déanad de nid air bit beannuigte, no a ainmigtear as Dia ; ni ciin is luga a tá n-a diaig, deir an t-Apstol Pol, 'na eug, an-Bás, agus ditsláinte air an t-saogal so, agus damnugad sioruide anns an t-saogal eile. A tá so follus as aa m-breit diBfeirgeac tug Dia air Baltasar, Pig uaiBreac na Baibiluin, mar a ta, a catair a sgrios agus a losgad, a rigeact tuitim cum eactranaig, agus an-Bás d’ fagail do féin, cionn go d-tug easonóir do na cailiseacaiB, agus do na soitigiB beannuigte do robáil a at air as Teampul Serusalem. Pinne Dia foigid le B.il- tasar ann gac uaBar, agus ann gac an-flaiteas, ann gac craos, agus ann gac adaltraniis, ann gac tiorantus agus eagcoir da n-dearnaid se go d-ti sin. Act co luat a’s tug droc-iiieas air na soitigiB beannuigte sud, aig déanad oil asta, se íém agus a curtoiride malluigte, conairc se sgrioBta a Breit damanta air an m-balla. Ni fecirr an nid a d’ eirig d’ Osa, cionn gur cuir a lam neaiiiglan air Airc an Conraid, agus sé ann a tuata, tuit se ann a corpán marB, ann talman le taoB na Airce Ci^adna. Ni áirigim an t-an-Bás a fuair cilig mile de na Betsami- tidiB de ceann aiiiarc tarcuisneac mi liiodamail do taBairt air an Airc ceadna ; no cad se mar loisg teme as na Plaitis dá cead agus deic agas da Mcid de 'n pobul ÉaBrac, cionn gur lamadar gan ordugad gan ollmugad, lodbeirt ola do deanad a B-£iagnuis Dé. Oc, a Criostaid, feuc le uatBas air an trom diogaltus so, rinne Dia air an liiuintir sud, fo droc usáid no easanuir SERMONS OF THE 167 eight persons, bv the deluge. He consumed with fire from heaven the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah. He sent pestilence and famine often times among the Jews ; but we read of no sin that draws down the vengeance of God more repeatedly, and more wrathfully, than what divines call sacrilege, that is, to offer disrespect and disregard to God, or to abuse anything dedicated to, or named after God. Ho less a punishment follows it, as St Paul says^ than destruction, sudden and unprovided death, diseases in this world, and eternal damnation in the next. (1 Cor xi. 29). ^ This is evident, from the dreadful judgments which God passed on Balthazar, the proud king of Babylon, by destroying and rasing his city — causing his kingdom to fall into the hands of foreigners, and to suffer himself to get a sudden death for dishonoring the chalices and sacred vessels, which his father had stolen out of the temple of Jerusalem. God had patience with Balthazar in his re. peated acts of pride and presumption — in all his luxury and debauchery — in all the tyranny and oppression he had committed, till then ; but as soon as he profaned these sacred vessels by drinking out of them, himself and his wicked courtiers, he saw a hand writing the sentence of his condemnation on the wall — Thou art weighed in the balance and hast been found wanting. — Dan. v. 27. Oza also, being but a layman, for putting his unhallowed hand to the ark of the covenant, dropped dead to the ground beside the ark. The Scriptures tell us likewise of the sudden death of five thousand ot the Bethsamites, for casting looks of indifference and irreverence at the same ark ; and how fire from heaven descended and consumed two hundred and fifty of the Israelites, for pre- suming to go, without ordination or mission, to offer in- cense before the Lord. Ah ! Christians, behold with astonishment the severe Vengeance God executed upon these people, for profaning 168 MOST EEV. TB. 0 ALL AGEE B. taBairt do na neite beannuigte so, agus dearc anns ann am ceadna, air glonmaire an peacaid do gnid tu féin, an uair a glacas tu do Tigearna lé coinsias salac agus cidfaid tu dá meádócaid do peacaide a scila ceirt Dá gur mó an t-ádBar a tá ann a rad leat ’ná le Baltasar, gur troime do coirte ’na do deag-gniomarta. — Appensiu-s es in statera, et inventus es minus liabens. Oir, cuirim a g-cas go d-tug Baltasar easondir do soitige na áltóra, do Bi foileaiiinac aiiiáin ann fuil ainmid brdide, aihail a glacad d’a n-déanfaid lodbairt do ’n Tigearna- Act cad sé do gnid tusa aig déanad cumaoineaca neaiii- glana ? Ben tu easonoir agus masla, ni do soitige na áltóra, act do do slánmgteíjir, a ofráltar air an altoir ; nf do jráatiír talinuid, beag-luaciiiar, act do ’n peurla neaindaj mor-luaciiiar, Mac Dá. Do tug Baltasar di-meas air soitigiB na altdra de Brig gur raiB se ann a págánac, nac raiB geilleaih aige do ’n Fior-Dia. Act tusa, a peacaig, a tá air seilB a Beit ann do criostaid, act sin, faraor ! 6 Beul agus ni 6 gniom ; d’ á n-deanann Criost giolla agus compánac ; d’ a d-tugann, as meud a geain ort, a Oorp Naoiiita mar oileamuin sólásac do d’ anam . — Qui dulces mecum capiebas cihos (Psal. 54, 15) — onóir nac d-ug b6 ariaiii do na áingle ; d’ á d-tug aé oiread tiodlaca agus grasa a’s Bi aim a cilihacta : lamuigir ann diaig gac seirBis do gnid duit, a dul ’g á maslugad agus ’g á easonórugad níos mo mile uair ’ná Baltasar a Bi ann a págánac, ’n uair a glacair Sé le coinsias truaillid, salac . — AppeTisus es in stalera, et inventus es mines habens. Cuir Osa a lam go dioruisceac leis an Airc do Bi air Bruac tuitim. Agus measfá, a criostaid, gur raiB d’ ualac air a sáBáil air tuitim, act cionn gur glac se le láihaiB SERMONS OF TEE 169 or dishonoring those sacred things ; and behold, at the same time the enormity of the sin you commit when you receive your Lord with a filthy conscience ; and you will see also, if your sins were weighed in the scales of God’s jus- tice, that there is greater cause to say of you, than of Bal- thazar, that your crimes outweigh your deeds. Then, let me suppose that Balthazar dishon- oured the vessels of the altar, which were con- secrated to receive only the blood of animals with which sacrifice was made to the Lord ; well, what do you do by making an unworthy communion ? You give dishonour and reproach, not to the vessels of the altar, but to thy adorable Saviour, who is offered on the altar ; not to an earthly creature of little value — ah ! no — but to that heavenly pearl of immense value — the Son of God. Balthazar profaned the sacred vessels of the altar, be- cause he was a pagan, and because he did not believe in the true God. But thou, sinner, who art a Christian, but alas ! one in name only, and not in deed ; whom Christ makes His associate and companion ; to whom He gives — owing to the love He bears thee — His Divine Body as a soothing nourishment to thy soul ; — an honour He had never conferred on the angels ; and has given thee as many gifts and graces as were in His power. Thou set- test about — after all His kind services to thee — to offer reproach and dishonour a thousand times more than Bal- thazar, who w’as a pagan, gave, when thou receivest Him with a conscience stained with mortal sin. Oza put his hand bruskily to the ark that was on the point of falling : And one would imagine, Christians, that he was obliged to do so to prevent it from being upset ; 170 MOST REV. DR GALLAOEEU. tuataiiiala nid beannuigte agus gan se ann a sagarf, fuair se bas obann air an m-ball. Act nac dioruisgeaige go m(jr an nid do gnid tusa, a peacaig tig cam an feusta mor-luaic so, gan caon-dutract, gan crabad, le catuigte intinne, agns le smuamtid saogalta, gan fencaint roriiat air riniract Cr/ost, a ta tu a glacad, no a dearcad do diaig air mend do peacaid, agus sin air seilb d’ fiaca a belt ort ann t-sacra- munt diada so a glacad. Oj! is mór a ta tu meallta. Gid gur orduig Dia do ’n duine an oileaihum neamda so glacad air a loigiod, aon uair aiiiáin ’s an m-bliadain, d’ orduig dó, anns an am ceadna a glacad le crabad agus glaine croide. no go m-beidead an t-arin so na beat a, ann aran bais aige, agus an Cailis so na slainte, ann easlainte mar- bac aige — Qui enim manducat et hihit indigne judicium sihi manducai ct libit (I. Cor. xi. 29). Gid nac b-fuil peacad marbac air bit do gmdmuid nac d-trc^igamuid Dia leis, nac nglacamuid mar ináigistir leis, an diabal, nac n-diolamuid ar g-ceart air Partas, agus nac n-deantar oigrid air ifrionn dmn ; is baogalaig an peacad so, an naoiii-atais, ’ná sm uile. Do gnid Dia foigid linn air ar g-coirtib eile. Gid go m-bideann a b-feirg linn, ni buaineann ddil dinn, gid go scuireann Binn, ni scriosann sinn ; act an uair a gmdmuid cumaona'a neaiii-glana cuiramuid seula air ar n-droc-ad; ’n uair a glacamuid Corp Criost fo ar m-bromn agus nac mian Imn ar m-beata a leasugad ; cuid na comursan air ar láiiii agus nac mian linn aisioc deanad ; fuat no fearg leis an g-comursain agus nac mian linn siotcain do deanad ; belt tugta do striopacas, no do meisge, do breugaib no do riiionnaib mora; no a belt tugta do lean an peacaid air bit eile agus nac mian linn a d-treag- báil : cia b’ se, a deirim, do gnid cumaoineac air an staid so, treigeann Dia se gan riioill, buainid SERMONS OF TEE 171 yet because be touched with unconsecrated hands a con- secrated object, not being a priest, he died suddenly on the spot. But do you not act far more thoughtlessly, sinner, when to this inestimable feast thou comest with- out devotion, without piety, with a mind distracted with worldly thoughts, without looking direct at the majesty of Jesus, whom you are going to receive, or looking be- hind you at the enormity of your sins, and you conscious that you are obliged to receive this Divine Sacrament ! Oh ! you are greatly deceived. Although God ordered man to receive this heavenly nourishment, yet He com- manded him at the same time to receive Him with piety and with purity of heart, otherwise this Bread of Life would prove unto him the Bread of Death, and this chalice of salvation would be unto him a deadly poison — (Oor. xi.) Although there is not a mortal sin that we commit, but we thereby renounce God, take the devil as our master, sell our title to Paradise, and make ourselves heirs of hell ; still this siu OÍ sacrilege is more dangerous than all those others. God has patience with us in all our other crimes. Though His anger is over us. He does not despair of us. Though He scourges us, He does not exterminate us. But when we make an unwortliy communion, we put a seal to our misfortune. When we receive the Body of Christ into our souls, and that we do not resolve to amend — our neighbour’s property still in our custody, with no purpose of making restitution ; living in hatred or animosity with our neighbour, without purpose of reconciliation ; addicted to fornication, to drunkenness, lying, swearing, or to any other habitual sin ; whoever, I repeat, receives Holy Com- munion with such strange dispositions, God immediately abandons such a one — he withdraws His grace from him 172 MOST BEV, VR. GALLAGHER. de Ó sin amac, tairngeann a grasa nai3, leigeann do siocad an ns na loctaib, leigeann srian le n-a anmiantaiB, air liiod mar deir San Greigeoir, go m-bideann aig roilliacan (5 loot go locfc. — De vltio rotant in vitlum^ Oliiiuigeann naom-atais siad ann naom-atais ede, agus as sin tmteann ann eadotcas, a Beir siad fo deire go fior-iactar ifrinn. A ta so follus as an id a fuair^ an bratadoir ludis. Da rinne Dia foigid le n-a loctaib eile, le n-a saint, le n-a liiuirmur, le n-a eagcdir, act co luat a’s glac se Corp Criost air droc-staid, tréig Dia se gan modi, agus d’ fág se faoi imeartas an diabail. — Et post huccellam intmvit in eiim Satanas (Jo. iii., 27.) Ceist agam orraib, a cairde, an feidir gnioih air bit ni bud graineaiida ’ná da ngabfad duine de cloideaiii no de scian trid croide rig no prionnsa, a racfad anns an am ceadna aig toga na seoide b’ uaisle agus bud tairbige a bi ann a birciste, ann a tabairt a m-bronntanas do ’n duine- marbtdir so ? Ni’l gan aiiirus gnioiii éo malluide leis. Maisead so cas an ié do gnid cumaoineac air droc-staid. Do gnid S3 feall agus duine-marbugad air Mac D(^, rig is tiod- lacaige agus is trJcairige d’ a d’ tainic no d’ a d-tioc£aid, do tig cuige leis an t-seoid is uaisle, agus leis an m-bron- tanas is tairbige d’ a b-fuil anns an dir-ciste diada agus coriiarta cumainn is md do b’ fdidir Id Dia a cumad no smuatmugaS, ann meud a grad air an duine a taisbeanad, mar a ta a Corp naoiiita, eidir diadact agus daondact, mar to, Sd a b-flaiteaiiinas. Ceist fds agam orraib, a cairde, an b-fuil an bis d’a olcus, no scmrsa d’a meud nac n-orddcad sib do na ludaigib a cuir Criost ann bdis ; de brig gur b’ sd Mac Dd sd, gur b’ se a slanuigteoir agus a g-crutuigteoir sd, gur b’ uime do (uirling se as na flaiiis, ann fuascailt ddib as bruid an SERMONS OF THE 173 — He gives liim up, so to speak — He allows him to harden in iniquities — he permits the passions to have their way, so, as St. Gregory remarks, “ the man is rolling from one iniquity to another ; — one sacrilege prepares the way for another;” and at length the sinner falls into despair, which brings him at last to the lowest pit of hell. This is evident from the final state of the traitor Judas. God had patience with all his other wickedness — his covet- ousness, his murmurs, and his fraudulence ; but as soon as he received the Body of Christ in an unworthy state, Christ forsook him immediately and left him to the wiles of Satan. My brethren, give me leave to ask a question — is there any act more heinous than that a man should rush and take a sword or a knife and stab his king or his prince through the heart, who, at the same time, is ofliering him the most precious jewel in his treasury in order to bestow it as a gift on this murderer ? Certainly, there is no deed more wicked. Why, then, this is the case with those who make an unworthy communion. They assassinate and murder, as it were, the Son of God, the most benign and merciful King that ever was, or ever will be, who comes to them at the same time witli the most precious pearl, the most profitable present that is to be found in His divine treasury, and the most ardent sign of affection which God could possibly form or invent in order to show the greatness of His love for mankind, and that is. His most holy body and blood, with His soul and divinity, as He is in heaven. Let me further put you, my friends, another question — is there any kind of death so painful, or any chastise- ment so severe, that you would not deem punishment suited to the Jews who put Christ to death ? Because He is the Son of God, because He is our Redeemer, and our Creator, who came from heaven, in order to redeem 174 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. peacaid agus 6 sclaBuigeact an diaBail. Mar an g-ceadna an B-fuil crioc d’a olcus nac n-ord(5cad siB d’ ludas, cionn diol sé a máigistir Criost ? Déirfid siB liom gan aiiirus nac B-fud ; agus má deir, deirim-se liB-se mar duBairfc Criost leis an seirBiseac neaiii-fogainteac. go d-teilgeann Bur m-Briatra fern siB . — De ore tuo tejudico, serve nequdm (Luc, xii., 22) . Agus dearBuigim daoiB, an uair a glacas siB Corp Criost air droc-staid go m-bideann siB rann- páirteaó leis na ludaigiB aig ceusad Criost, agus co ciontac anus an m-bis le ludas a Brait se. An t Apstol Pol mo Baranta leis an firinne so, anns an aonmad caibidil deug d’ a leitir cum na g-Cormteanaig, ann a n-deir se : — “ Cia b’ se iteas an t-Aran so, no Bias Cailis an Tigearna air droc-staid^ beid se ciontac a B-fuil agus a B-feoil an Tigearna .” — Qiiicunjue mandacaverlt panem hunc, cel hiherit calicem Domini indigue, rctis er'd corporis et sanguinis Eo~ mini (I Cor. 11). Oc ! a peacaid inalluigte an naom-atais, cad se liact do- liiid agus diogBail tig asat j cad se liact duine a tairngeas, tu go ifrionn, ann áit a n-ardugad cum na B-flaiteas. Nár leigid Dia, a cáirde, go B-fuil ludac salac, no ludas mal- luigte ann Bur meaag-sa, ’a racfad aig brat no aig ceusad Criost anus an aimsir Beannuigte so na casga ! Oc ! is mur m’ eagla go B-fuil, agus gur lia duine agaiB do gnid cumaonaca salaca ’na do giiid cumaonaca glaiia, d’ easBa oliiiuigte agus na g-coingiall a ta riactanac agaiB ann Corp Criost do glacad ; nid air ar geall me tract anns an dara punc de mo conirad. An dára punc. Cum go n-deanfamuis eisBirig ann aomfeact le Criost, ann aimsir naoihta na casga so, 6 Bas an peacaid, is coir diiinn, a cairde, Corp an Tigearna a glacad fo ar m-broinn. An liiuintir nac nglacann, reir SERMONS OF THE 175 us from the slavery of sin, and from the thraldom of the devil ! In like manner is there any doom so bad that you would not pronounce on Judas, for selling his Master Christ ? You will, without doubt, tell me — there is not. And if so, I tell you, as Jesus Christ told the unprofitable servant, that “your words condemn you .” — Be ore tuo te Judico serve nequam. And I assure you that, when you receive the Body of Christ unworthily, you share with the Jews in crucifying Christ, and that you are as guilty of His death as Judas who betrayed Him. My authority for this truth is the apostle St. Paul, in the eleventh chapter of his Epistle to the Corinthians, where he says, — “ Whoever will eat this Bread, or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily will be guilty of the Body and Blood of the Lord.” Oh, accursed sin of sacrilege, what an amount of misery and misfortune comes from thee ! How many beings dost thou draw to hell, instead of raising them to heaven ! God forbid, my brethren, that there should be any foul Jew or perfidious Judas amongst you, who would betray or crucify Jesus, in this holy time of Easter. 0 ! I greatly fear there is, and that there are more among you who communicate unworthily than who communicate worthily for the want of due preparation, and the necessary dispo- sitions required to receive the Body of Christ well, a sub- ject of which I promised to treat in the second part of my discourse. Second Point — In order that we may rise in this holy time of Easter, from the death of sin with Jesus, we should, my brethren, receive the body of our Lord. Those who do not, as Christ declares in the sixth Chapter of St. 176 MOST BEV. DB. GÁLLAOHEB. mar dearbmgeas Criost aig Eon anns an seisead caibidil, ni b-£dig siad brat a na ngrasa ; ni’l imeact aca 6 Bás an peacaid . — Nisi manducaveritis carnem Filii hominis, non hahehitis vltam in vohis (Jo. vi., 54.) Arhail a’s mar d^arfad sé go B-fuil an oileamuin spioradalta so co riac- tanac aig an anam a’s ta an oileaiiiuin corporda riactanac aig an g-colainn : agus rdir mar nac feidir leis an duine Beit beo, no siuBal no aistir a deanad a slige gan an t-aran corporda, mar an g-ceadna ni féidii* leis an anam siuBal no aistir a deanad a slige a slanuigte gan an t-aran diada so . — Non liahebitis vitam in voids (Jo., vi.) A tá d’ ualac, mar sin, air gac dume, rdir aitne Criost an t-sacramuint so a glacad. Act cnalaid siB, a cáirde, cad se meud an diogaltas do gnid Dia air an te, a glacas SI air droc-staid, Glacamuid si, mar sin, a reir na áitne, act glacamuid si le olliiiugad ceart, air ceist na caineac. ’Se ollmugad sin, glome coinsiais, tar gac nid, agus diiil agus mian a Beit againn, anns an oileamain neaiiida so. Cia b’ se a racfas le coinsias glan, agus le croide saor 6 peacaidiB a glacad na Sacramumte so, geaBfaid se annti loc-slamte ann agaid gac loit, leigios air gac galar, neart ann agaid gac laige, caBair ann agaid gac catuigte, sdlas le linn gac leatroim. 0 geaBfaid se annti tuile na ngras 6 tobar na ngrasa — Criost. Act is feasac siB, a cairde, nac nglacann cunnad glas lán d’ uisge, teine ; mar an g-ceudna, ni lasaid an teine diada so croide glas, Ian d’ uisge an peacaid. An uair Bideas cunnad tirim olihuigte, IS luaite, agus is mdide lasas, agus glacas temte. Mar an SERMONS OF THE 177 John, will not obtain the life of divine grace — they will not escape the death of sin. — Nisi manducaveritis carnem Filii hominis, non liabebitis vitam in vohis (Jo. vi. 54). As if He had said : this spiritual nourishment is as neces- sary for the soul as corporal nourishment is to the body ; and as man cannot possibly live, or walk, or travel with- out corporal bread, so it is not possible for the soul to live, or to walk, or travel in the path of salvation, with- out this heavenly bread. — Non liabebitis vitam in vobis (John vi.) Every person is obliged, then, according to the com- mand of Christ, to receive this sacrament. But you have heard, my friends, the greatness of the vengeance God executes on those who receive His body unworthily. Let us, then, receive Holy Communion according to His command, but with the necessary preparation, else be questioned on, or prepared for the penalty. The prepara- tion is, purity of conscience above all things, and a desire and a longing for this heavenly nourishment. Whoever will go with a pure conscience, and with a heart free from sin, to receive this Sacrament, will find in it a healing balm against every malady, a cure against every infirmity, strength against all manner of weakness, a remedy against all temptation, and consolation against every affliction. 0 ! you will find therein an overflow of grace — in Christ the fonntain of all grace. — John, vi. But, my brethren, you are conscious that green faggots full of moisture will not take fire. In like manner, this divine fire will not kindle the watery, green heart of the sinner. When dried faggots are prepared they become the more combustible, and they sooner take fire. In like manner, — the more the heart is cleansed from sin, the 178 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. g-ceadna in ’1 d’a iheud a’s bideas an croide glan 6 pca- caidiB, nac m(5ide agus nac luaite lasas le teine na ngrása, agus geiB se luaideact agus torad na sacramuinte réir olliiiuigte. Maisead 6 ’s nid a tá crosta orainn an t-sacra- muint so a glacad gan olliiiugad, feucamuid, a Criostaid, cad se mar tairgeas tusa tn £ein d’ olliiiugad ? Cad se mar tairgeas tusa loistin d’ anama cur ann ordugad fa cóiiiair Kig iieiiiie agus taliiian ? Cad se mar gnid tu an scrudugad consiais sud a orduigeas an t-Aspol Pul. — Probet autem se-ipsmn homo. Ma deir tu gur glan tu do coinsias aig deanad faoisi- dine ; is leor sin. Ni ’1 slige is fearr ann an coinsias a glanad, ’na an faoisidin, ma rinne tu si go ceart, ma rinne tu si le dúlás croide, agus aitreacas ann do peacaid. Act cia leis a ndearnaid tu an faoisidin so ? Atá le ruagaire rata, no le sagart dg anbfiosac, noc nár cuartuig do coin- sias ; agus nac moide gur raib cead aige o’n eaglais faoisidin d’ eisteact. Act mura raib d’ tag se tu-sa anns an muilleog ceadna ann a b-fuair se tu. Act, cuir a g-cas go ndearnaid an sagart a dualgas, cad se gnid tusa roiiii dul ann faoisidine ? Ar cuairtuig tu cluidionna doria do coinsiais ? Ar dearc tu air gac slige, agus air gac ucáid le ’r b’ feidir leat dlige Dé do brisead lonnos go m-bud feidir leat do peacaid a cur sios aim a ngné agus ann a n-uimir ? Oc, ni deanair. Tar dis a belt bliadain agus tillead gan do gliin a leagad aig sagart, tig tu air do sciorrad d do gnotaid saogalta, le croide lán do coirtib gan croide-brugad, gan crabad. Deanfa mbs md de stuideur mile uair, da m-beidtea dul, air do cuntus le tigearna saogalta, ’na gnid tu ’dul a latair barra na Trindide. Act cuir a g-cás gur sgriid tu do coinsias ; gur adiiiuig tu do peacaid, act ar adiiiuig tu siad le run lomlan gan SEBMONS OF THE 170 more speedily it will kindle with the fire of divine grace, and receive the benefit and indulgence of the Sacraments according to its disposition. Then, as we are prohibited from receiving this Sacrament without the proper dis- position, let us see, Christians, how you propose to prepare yourselves, how you put the abode of your soul in order for the proper reception of the King of Heaven and Earth ? How you make this examination of conscience which St. Paul recommends. If you say you have cleansed your conscience by con- fession ! Well, that is sufficient. There is no way better for cleansing your conscience than by confessing in a proper manner — by confessing to an authorised priest, with contrition of heart and a real sorrow for your sins, and making the due satisfaction. But ask yourself, have you gone to an approved confessor ? Have you gone to one full of zeal, piety, and prudence ? But let us suppose the priest does his duty, what did you do before you went to confession ? Did you look into the dark recesses of your heart ? Did you look to every way and occasion by which you may have violated God’s holy law, in order to set down your sins in their kind and in their number ? Ah, you did not ! After having been twelve months, and perhaps longer without bending your knee to a priest, you slip off hurriedly from your worldly business, with a heart full of distraction, without contrition, without devotion. You would make thousand times a longer study if you were going to settle accounts with your landlord, than you make when going to settle your spiritual affairs before the tribunal of the holy Trinity. But suppose you did search your conscience, and con- fess your sins ; have you confessed them with a firm re- solution of not returning to them again ? It is a sign 180 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. filleaS orta nios mó ? Act muna raiB an riin so agat, ma ta claon no suil agat a latair ’n diaig do peacaid ; agus muna d-troidM tu ann agaid na g-catugad, agus na ócáide a seacnugad, ni raiB run ceart agat. Ni’l tairBe ann do faoisidin ; ni fiu brot d’ absoloid : A tá do coinsias go foill gan glanad ; agus má lamuigeann tu ’dul a glacad Criost air an stáid so, ’n áit an oileaniain neaiiida so taBairt sláinte do d’ anam se geaBfas ta annti do damnugad go sioraid . — Judicium sibi manducat et bibit. O ! mo mile truaide ? Cad se liieud a gnid faoisidin gán torad ? Agus cad se laigead aig a m-bideann run na peacaid á seacnugad ! — nid is forus aitnugad air euscai- deact a’s tuitid aris annta. Cad se liact duine do gnid aitris air na muca ; teid siad gan moill ’g a n-unfairt fein anns an lataig tar ^is a nige ? Ni luaite Beir fear na mionna mór cul do ’n t-sagart, ’na teid se ’g a unfairt fein aris anns an muilleog ceadna. Ui luaite Beir an pútaire cul do ’n t-sagart, ’na tuiteann se aris a muilleog an (jil ? Ni luaite Beir an striopac ciil do ’n t-sagart, ’na cuireas si si-fein ann dcaid an peacaid. ’N anii-deoin gac riln mealltac, agus gac geallamain breugac Beirid uata cul a taBairt do ’n b-peacad, tuitid ann gan moill ; agus ann áit a m-beata do leasugad, sé meuduigeas siad a n-ualac, no go d-treigeann Dia siad fo deiread, agus go B-faganu siad faoi lomartas an diaBail. Tár eis an coinsias do sgrudugad agus a nige le trom- deora na áitrige, ’se an dara coingiall a tá riactanac agat, a Criostaid, ciocrus agus mian a Beit ort, corp do Tigearna a glacad. Agus a B-fuil duine air bit, le ar niian Beit beo, no beata na n-grasa d’ fagail, naó ar cdir go m-beidead diiil agus mian aige ann arán na beata. An B-fuil duine air bit a ti tartdiar nac ar cBir go m-beidead SERMONS OF TEE 18 i that you had not this disposition if, in making confes- sion, you had any inclination or attachment to your sins ; it is a sign, too, if you do not fight against the tempta- tions, and avoid in earnest the occasions of sin, your confession is not such as it should be ; your absolution is no absolution ; your conscience is still uncleansed j and if you attempt to receive Jesus Christ in this state, this heavenly food, instead of becoming the health of your soul, will, on the contrary, prove your eternal perdition. Oh ! pity it is, a thousand times, how many there are who confess without benefit ; how few who are resolved to forsake their sins ! How many imitate the swine, who wallows in the puddle after having been washed ! Ho sooner does the drunkard turn his back to the priest than he goes again to tumble into the mire of drunken- ness. Ho sooner does the swearer turn his back to the priest, than he relapses again into the same vice. Ho sooner does the harlot turn her back to the priest, than she places herself again in the occasion of sin. notwith- standing each sham resolution and lying promise they make to abandon their sins, they relapse immediately into them ; and instead of amendment, they increase the load of crime, till at length God abandons them, and leaves them to the wiles of Satan. After examining, and after cleansing the conscience with the tears of penance, the second condition that is neces- sary for the Christian is, an avidity and a desire for re- ceiving the body of the Lord. And is there any one who likes to live, or obtain the life of divine grace, that would not have an eagerness and a desire for the bread of life ? Is there auy one so thirsty that should not be in haste to 182 MOST BEY. DB. GALL AGEE B. deitfir air, a tart a cosgacl le uisge na ngras : An b-£uil duine air bit a tá loitte nac ar riiait leis leigeas d’ fagail ? An B-£uil duine air bit a tá lag, nac ar coir go m-beidead deitfir air ann a Beit laidir ? Maisead, glac do Tigearna, a Criostaid, agus glac se mar is coir, agus geaBfaid tu neart ann gac laige, leigeas air gac loit, locsláinte ann agaid báis an peacaid ; geaBfaid tu an uile aoiBneas, an uile solas, an uile liiaiteas . — Qui manducat liunc panem^ 'vivet in oeternum. Oc, a Tigearna, cad se liieud an daille a tá air Cnos- taidiB na áimsire so ? Ann aiiii-deoin gac tairBeJagus maiteasa a tá le fagail aca anns an t-sacramuint so, fo ail duine a tM ’g a glacad, Beir triur ciil a g-cinn di. Cid tu an lomad a cuireas a leas air cairde, a Bideas 6 Bliadain go bliadain gan teact coihair na sacramuinte so : ’Náit a Beit reubad ann arain na beata Beirid bis do ’n gorta d ’a n-anama; is eigin do’n t-sagart a Beit ’g a g-cealgugad agus ’g a meallad ; is eigin do fa deire a n-dibirt o aifrionn, sul go B-faig uata comaoineaca na casga do dean ad. Act cad se IS ádBar, a cáirde, do’n daille so ? Ati, gan aiiirus, easBa craBaid agus creidiiii, rár mar taisbeanas a n-droc-Beata : Drong siad a ti biitte a ngrád an t-saogail so, agus nac g-cuireann spéis a d-talam na geallaiiiua : Drong siad ata tucta do sasain cealgac na colna agus nac mian leo bias de aoiBneas firmneac a n-Anama. Pro nihilo lialjuefi’unt tm'am desidei'obilem (^Ps. 105, 24). Drong eas-uiiial siad, mar a g-ceud Atair Adaiii, le ar b’ feirr uBal na aitne ite, Bearfas bas doiB, ’na bias de torad crann na beata, a congocad 6 Bis siad. 0, a Criostaid, foscail do sdile, agus na breugad an saogal tu nios faide. Ma ti dull agat a sisaiii agus a milseact, bias de ’n arin so, agus geaB SERMONS OF THE 183 quench his thirst with the water of grace ? Is there any one so wounded that would not be healed ? Is there any one so weak that wonld not be in haste to become strong ? Then, receive thy Lord, 0 Christian, and receive him worthily, and you shall obtain vigour against all weak- ness ; a cure for all infirmities ; health against the dis- eases of sin ; you will obtain all happiness, all consola- tion, all manner of blessings. — John, vi. 56. O Lord ! how great is the blindness of the Christians of these times ! Notwithstanding all the benefits and blessings they have it in their power to obtain in this Sacrament, for the one who goes to receive it, there are three who turn their backs to it. You may see a great many who postpone their conversion, who remain from year to year without approaching the Sacrament ; instead of eagerly coming forward to receive the bread of life, they starve their souls to death. But, my brethren, what must be the cause of this volun- tary blindness ? Surely it must be the want of piety and faith, as their wicked lives testify. They are a generation who are taken up with the love of the world, and who take no delight in looking to the Land of Promise ; they are a generation who are addicted to the alluring pleasures of the flesh, and take no delight in tasting of the true plea- sure of their souls. (Psalm cv.) They are a disobedient generation, like our first father Adam, who prefer eating the forbidden fruit, that bringeth death upon them, rather than taste of the fruit of the tree of life, that would preserve them from death. 0 ! dearest Christians, open now your eyes, and let not the world seduce you any longer; if you have any relish for pleasure or for sweeetness, taste this bread, and you 184 MOST UEV. DB. GALLAGHER. fair ann aoiBneas agus milseact spioradalta, Glac an t-aran laetaniail a Bideas ’nn a leigeas air gac breoiteact laetamail, a Bideas ’nn a Brat air d’ anam. — Ranis qiioti- dianus pro remed^o quotidiance infirmitatis. — Naoiii Ambrós. Glac se go minic mar cotugad do d’ anam, réir mar glacas tu go minic oileaiiiain corporda mar cotugad do do colainn. Act glac se le glaine croide, agus le ollmugad ceart. Glac se le Bonn agus dull anns an oileamain neainda so, dean aitris air na ludaigiB, air cotrom an lae ’n diu, — árduig do gut agus abair : Fáilte duit, a Tigearna £o mo Broinn ; maiteas agus slainte go n-deantar do m’ anam. Hosanna Filio David. Teid ann aracois Criost le Pailm na n-deag-gniomarta, agus le craoBaca glasa na suBailcid, agus geaBfaid tu d Dia, aig glacad a aon Mic leis an olliiiugad so, lomiius na ngrasa anns an t-saogal so, agus an gldir sioruid anns an t-saogal eile. — Amdn. AN NAOIMAD SEANMOIR. AIR ÍAIRBE A TIG_CUGAINN AIG GLACAD COIRP AR D.TIGEARNA MAR IS COIR. Homo quidam fecit cxnam magnam et vocavit multos. Do gleus duine airil feusta mdr, agus tug cuiread do ’n lomad teact d ’a caitead : — Briatra Criost aig Lucas anns an 14 caib. 16. v. Atá cuid de na áitreaca naodita a tuigeas leis au B-feusta mdr-costasac so, air a d-tractann an soisgeul, an gldir sioruid a gleusas Dia fa comair na mumtire a fulangas buairt agus boctaineact, breis agus leat-trom air son a g-creidaii. SBEMONS OF THE 185 shall obtain spiritual pleasure and sweetness; receive this daily bread as an antidote against each daily con- tagion that besets your soul. (St. Ambrose.) Receive it frequently as a nourishment for your soul, just as you re- ceive frequently corporal food as a nourishment for your body ; but receive it with purity of heart, and with a worthy disposition ; receive it with a desire and willing- ness for this heavenly food ; imitate the Jews in com- memoration of this day ; raise your voice and say — Welcome, OLord, into my bosom: all bliss, and all health mayest thou bring into my soul : Hosanna to the Son of David. Go meet Jesus Christ, with the palm of good works and with the green branches of virtue, and you shall obtain from God, at receiving his only Son with these dispositions, the treasure of divine grace in this life, and eternal glory in the next. — Amen. SERMON IX. ON THE ADVANTAGES OF RECEIVING WORTHILY, Homo quidam fecit ccenam majncÉm et vooavit multos. A certain man made a great supper, and invited many . — = Luke, xiv. 16 . Some of the holy Fathers understand by this costly banquet, of which mention is made in the Gospel, tho eternal glory which God prepares for those who endure tribulation and poverty, adversity and affliction on ac- count of their faith. 186 MOST BEV. DR. GALLAGHER. Agus mar an g-ceadna, fo comair na muintire a troideas ann agaid na g-catugad, a smactas a n-droc-claonta, a seacnas an peacad, — agus ma Bideann se de droc-ád orta tuitim ann, a eirigeas as gan modi, aig di^nad na áitrige. Geib an liiuintir so, deirim, feusta na gluire, mar a Beit an cuideact is siniie, aoiBneas gan ^cmmse, sólas gac maiteasa gan cnoi, gan cuimse. Act ’se a tuigeas mor-iiiBr na Éagluise leis an B-feusta sud, sacramuint naomta na áltííra, mar a d-tugann Dia do’n duine an feusta is costusaige, an biad is uaisle agus IS onóraige, agus an odeaiiiain is tairBige agus is follaine d’a bud feidir le Dia cumad, no le dume smuainead, mar atá a Corp Naomta eidir diadact agus daonact mar atá a B-ilaiteamnas. Atá cuiread aig an t-saogal uile ann an feusta so. Ata doirse na Éagluise foscadte fo comair gac Criostaid. Ni tig leo sasaiii is mvi a deanad do liiaigistir an feusta, Criost, no teact do caitead an Bid neamda so. Act mo liiile truaide ! Cad se liact dume ’n ait teact air an g-cuiread so, Beir cál a cinn dJ ? Cad se liact dume le ar b’ feirr bis de ’n gorta taBairt d’a anam, no teact a caitead na oileaiima neamda so ? Agus cad se liact dume tig a glacad an Bid so, agus ann áit buideacas, no Bniir a deanad d’ fear an feusta^ gur b’ se easoniir agus masla Beirid do, aig teact le ladia salaca agus gan aibid an pusta orta. 0, Criostaid tig le lima glana, se sin le com- Bias saor o peacad aig glacad na Sacramuiiite so, cad se meud do sonais ! Ni sonas is luga a ta le fagail agat ’na Cnbst aig deanad arms agus lonaid coiimuige de d’ anam, rcir mar tairgfeas me a crutugad ann mo corhrad tar dis a rumn ann a da puiic. Ni’l nid air bit is tairBige agus is sulis- aige do ’n anam ’ni Corp Críost a glacad air deag-staid : SERMONS OF THE 187 And also the reward which he prepares for those who resist temptations, who subdue their evil incli- nations. who avoid sin, and who, if they have had the misfortune of falling into it, rise again immediately by doing penance. These people obtain, I say, the feast of eternal glory, enjoying the most charming company, hap- piness unbounded, and all beatitude without end or mea- sure. But the greater number of expounders of scriptures in the Church understand by this feast, the holy Sacra- ment of the altar, which God gives to man, being the most costly banquet — the rarest, the most delicious food — the most profitable and wholesome nourishment which God could give, or man receive, which is. His divine body and blood, with his soul and divinity, just as he is in Heaven. All the faithful are invited to this feast. The doors of the church are thrown open to every Christian ; they cannot render the master of the feast, Jesus Christ, greater pleasure than by coming to partake of this heavenly food. But, pity it is a thousand times over, the many that are, who, instead of coming to partake of it, on this invitation, turn their backs to it ! How many are there, w'ho starve their souls to death rather than come to partake of this heavenly nourishment ? How many, also, come to partake of this food, who, in- stead of rendering thanksgiving or honour to the Master of the feast, dishonour and insult him rather by coming with unclean hands, and without having on the “wedding garment!” 0 Christian, who comest with clean hands, that is, with a conscience free from sin, to receive this Sacrament, how great shall thy blessing be ? No less a happiness hast thou to receive, than Jesus Christ, who will take up his abode and dwelling in thy soul, as I shall prove in my discourse, after having divided it into two parts. First — There is nothing so profitable, or so full of solace to the soul, as to receive the Blessed Eucharist worthily. Second — Theie are certain con- 183 MOST BEV. DB. OALLAGEEB, Bin an ceud punc. A ta coingialla áirid lé Críost a glacal air deag-staid : sin an dara punc. An ceud punc. — Crutuig Dia Adam agus EaBa a staid an lonracuis, se sin saor o ’n uile gné peacaid ; rinne maigistir dioBta air an doman, air gac ddil agus air gac crcatiir d’a raiB ann. Cuir siad a ngairdin lán d’ aoiBneas agus de suaimneas, ann a raiB an uile cmeal toraid bud milse bias agus bud Breagta le feicsint. Bi Crann na Beat a lar an gáirdín^so Beiread dá gne deug measa,-agus sin gac mi. Ni’l uair ann a n-iosfad Adaiii de iheas an crainn so, da m-beidead se sean, nac n-dean£ad 6g se^. da m-beidead tinn nac n-deanfad slan sé. Cmndi5cad an crann so Adam 6 aois agus 6 tinneas go n-atrocad Dia se (j’n b-partas talmuid so go partas Neime . — Lignum xitoe, af- fermsfructus 12, per menses^ singulos reddens fructum suum. Ni neani-cosamail, a cáirde, an crann so na beata leis an t-Sacramuint Naoriita, air a B-fuil me aig tract ; air an adBar, réir mar Bi crann sdd na beata lar Partais, ta an t-Sacramuint so a lar na Eagluise. Agus rdir mar tigead dá cineál deug measa air crann na beata mar an g-ceadna tig an lomad gné measa agus toraid air an t-Sac- ramuint so. Beiread crann na beata torad gac mi, agus ni luga leis an t-Sacramuint so. Cumduigead measa crainn na beata an te d’ itead siad 6 aois agus 6 tinneas; agus mar an g-ceadna sáBáileann an t-Sacramuint Naoiiita so o’n uile galar agus easlamte an t-anara, no go d-tugann se go cuan sáBálta na gloire , — Per singulos menses reddens fructum suum. A ta deirim, a cairde, an crann diada so, Uan De, lar Partais Criost, an Eagluis, air an altoir ’nn a lodbairt agus ’nn a Sacramuint. Ta an t-Uan neaiiida so ann lod- bairt do ófraltar do ’n Atair sioruid, air son ar b-peacaid; SERMONS OF THE 189 ditions necessary in order to receive Christ worthily. The Ave Maria. First — God created Adam and Eve in the state of innocence, that is, free from all manner of sin. He gave them dominion over the world, and over every animal, and over every living creature. He placed them in a garden teeming with delights and pleasures, in which were all sorts of fruit most delicious to the taste, and most charming to the sight. There was in the middle of this garden the tree of life, which produced twelve sorts of fruit, and that each month. Whenever Adam pleased to eat of the fruit of this tree, it would, if he were old, make Inm young ; if he were sick, it would restore him to healtn. This tree was suited to preserve Adam from old age, and from sickness, until God would raise him up from the paradise of earth to that of heaven, ‘i In the midst of the street thereof, and on both sides of the river, was the tree of life, bearing twelve fruits, yielding its fruits every month.’* — (Apoc. xxii. 2). This tree of life, my brethren, is like the Holy Eucharist of which I speak, because as this tree of life was in the centre of praradise, so is the Eucharist in the centre of the church ; and as this tree of life produced twelve sorts of fruit, so in like manner, this divine Sacrament produces sundry sorts of flowers and fruits. The free of life did produce fruit each month ; and so does this Sacrament. The fruit of the tree of life was imbued with a power to preserve those who would eat of it from age and from sickness. In like manner, this Holy Eucharist preserves the soul from all maladies and diseases, until it sets it safe in the secure harbour of glory. I say, my brethren, this divine tree, the Lamb of God, is in the centre of Christ’s paradise, the Church, on the very altar, and is at once a Sacrifice and a Sacrament. This heavenly Lamb is a sacrifice that is offered to 190 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHER. gnid an lodbairt so ar siocáin le Dia, agus tugann damn torad báis agus paise Criost. A ta mar an g-ciadna ann a Sacramumt, agus do cum Dia se ann a Beit ann oilea- liiain sólásaig aig anamaiB na B-fireun. Ta an crann so lár na Éagluise mar an oroide a lar an coirp, aig cur beodas agas láidireact ann ga} ball di . — Ego sum vita (Jo. xiv.j 6). Tá se lar na Éag’uise, mar grt^in lonraig agus mar locran soilseac, taBairfc solurs agus eoluis di — Lucerna ejus est Agnus. A ta an t-Uan neaiiida so lár na Eagluise mar cloic coirnéil, a snaidmeas agus a ceanglas Criostaidid an t-saogail a g-coriitact agus a g-cartanaet , — Hie f actus ill caput anguli (Mat. xxi., 42.) ^ Do Bi de Buaid air crann na beat a tar crainn an gáirdin uile, go d-tigead dá cineál deug measa air . — Lignum viice afferens frucius 12. Agus ni luga, a cáirde, leis an g-cranu diada, Sacramumt Coirp ar d-Tigearna, Beir an lomad meas agus torad. Oir ni lonann si agus na Sacramuinte eile, nac d-tugann duinn act aon grasa aiiiain, agus sin air ocáide airid ; Mar a ta go nglanann Sacramumt an Baisde smn 6 peacad na sinsir ; neartuigtear sinn ann ar g-creideaiÍL le Imn a Dul faoi Laim Easpoic, agus geiB- muid meisneac 6 Dia le fulamg go foigideac gac mi-coiiigar tig orainn 6 namaid ar g-creidiiii. Le meolam Sacra- muint na Eaoisidme geiB smn maiteaihnas 6 Dia ann gac peacad a gni3muid tar éis Baisde. Cuireann Sacra- miimt na Ola Deigionaige meisneac anns an dume ann agaid pianta an Bais. Beir na Óird Naoiiita grasa airid agus cumacta spioradalta, do’n dume cum na Sacramuinte do friotolad. Agus Sacramumt au Posta is grasa sonradac Beireann dumn ann fulamg go foigideac mi-coiiigair cumge an Posta, Ni taoBann, a deirim, na Sacramuinte so act aon grasa aiiiám áirid. Act an t-Sacramumt so Coirp SERMONS OF THE 191 the Eternal Father, in satisfaction for our sins. This sacrifice makes our peace with God, and admits us to partake of the fruits of the death and passion of Jesus Christ. It is likewise a Sacrament. God formed it to be a consoling nourishment to the souls of the just. This tree is in the centre of the Church, as the heart is in the centre of the body, animating and strengthening every part of it. — “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” — John, xiv. 6. It is in the centre of the Church as a bright sun, and as a shining luminary, giving her light and comfort. This heavenly Lamb is in the centre of the Church, and is like a corner-stone which binds all Christiaus in one edifice of unity and charity. The tree of life had another peculiar quality above the other trees in the garden, that it produced twelve sorts of fruit, so, my friends, this divine tree, the blessed Eucharist, produces a variety of fruits, special and general. Unlike the other Sacraments, which give us but one peculiar grace, and that upon particular occasions this gives us all kinds of graces. Thus the Sacrament of Baptism cleanses us from original sin. We are strengthened in our faith by Confirmation, and by it we receive fortitude from God, to bear with patience every adversity we meet with from the enemies of our faith. By means of the Sacrament of Confession, we obtain pardon from God for all the sins we commit after Baptism. The Sacrament of Extreme Unction fortifies and strengthens a person against the perils of death. Holy Orders confer certain grace and spiritual power on man for the administration of the Sacraments. And the Sacrament of Matrimony was instituted for giving suitable graces to the married couple to bear patiently the trials and troubles of the married state. These Sacraments, I say, confer on us but special graces each, suited to the end for which it has been instituted ; but in this Sacrament — the blessed Eucharist — we not 192 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. Órfost, ni se amain go B-fagann sinn an uile grasa mar deir Naom Bearnárd act fagann sinn agus glacann sinn ugdar agus maigistir gac grasa mar a ta Mac De uile- cumactaig . — In hoc enim Sacramento^ non guxlihet gratia sed ille a quo omnis gratia, sumitur. Tionscnuigeann agus ollinuigeann na Sacramuinte eile sinn ann na ngrasa, act criocnuigeann agus comlionann an t-Aran Neaiiida so na grasa lonnainn. Blasamuid anns na SacramumtiB eilo cuid d’ uisge tobair na ngrasa, act aig glacad Coirp ar d-Tigearna ólamuid an tobar ann a uile-meid. Amail a’s mar bi an Manna do gac bias, reir miain an te d’ itead se, a ta an t-aran neamda so Ian de milseact agus de gac grasa, reir miain agus riactanuis gac aon a caiteas se. — In hoc enim Sacramento non quaelibet gratia, do. Do bi buaid eile air crann na beata go d-tugad meas gac mi . — Per singulos memos reddens fructum suum. Agus ni luga leis an t-Sacramumt so. Crann na beata dar fire beir duinn an Beata ihartanac ; Beir se meas gac mi, se sm le rad go d-tugann duinn an uile gne furtacta agus caBra ann gac am, ann gac staid agus air gac ócáid. Beir torad ann aimsir na oige, aig freiiiiugad na suBáilce, aig smac- tugad na ndroc-claonta, agus aig mucad teas na colna ; Beir an t-Sacramuint torad a meodain aoise aig breit buaid air catugad an t-saogail so, aig mucad gac feirge ; agus mar deir an Faid rigaiiiail, is arm cosanta an t-Aran Neamda so ann agaid náiiiaid ar n-anama . — Parasti in conspectu meo mensam, adversus eos qui tribulant me (Ps. 22 5.) Beir se torad ann aimsir na Srsaigeacta, aig cotugad foigide na droinge aosda ; atnuaduigeann an t-Arin diada a neart, agus cuireann beodas na craiBeacta ann a g-croid- tiB . — Panis cor hominis conjirmat (Ps. 103, 15.) Beir, mar an g-ceadna, an t-Sacramuint so torad ann gac staid. Air an adBar, is meodain áifeactac si aig an SERMONS OF THE 193 only receive every grace, as St. Bernard remarks, but we obtain and receive the author and the dispenser of all graces — the Son of the Almighty God himself. The other Sacraments mould and prepare us for grace ; but this heavenly food accomplishes and completes the abund- ant flow of divine grace in us. In the other Sacraments we taste a part only of the water of the fountain of grace, but in receiving the body of our Lord, we drink the whole fountain in all its fulness. Just as the manna was to each one’s taste, according to the relish which each felt who partook of it, so is this food full of sweetness and of grace, according to the relish and requirements of every one who receives it. The tree of life had another superior quality, that it bore fruit each month, j^nd so it is with this blessed Sacrament ; it is like the tree of life, it gives us life ever- lasting ; it bears fruit each month, that is to say, it gives us every sort of comfort and consolation at all times, in all circumstances, and upon all occasions. It bears fruit in youth by making virtue take root, by subduing the evil inclinations, and by extinguishing all concupis- cence. This Sacrament bears fruit in the middle stage of life, by overcoming the temptations of this world, by extinguishing every passion of anger, and as the royal prophet remarks, this heavenly bread is a sure protection against the enemies for our souls. — Psalm xxii. 5. It bears fruit in old age, the time of maturity and ad. vanced life by helping the patience of aged people. This heavenly food renews their fortitude, and gives anima- tion to piety in their hearts. — Psalm ciii. 15. This Sacrament likewise bears fruit in all states and callings. Hence it is an effectual means for married 194 MOST REV. DR. GALLAGHER. droiEg p(5sta ann cumduigte a g-cuinge; aig an droing dio- maoin aig claoidead a g-colna ; is arm dearBta si do na maigidinib ann agaid na drdise ; is sgiat didin an crnit- neaét so na B-£irenn do ’n cleir cnm cuiiidnigte a n-ionra- cais, agns tnd a milseact diada gnid dearmad agns neani- bng de snaiiiineas cealgaj an t-saogail so. — Frunieiu turn electorum, et vinum germinans virgines (Zacar. 9, 17). Beir fds an t-Sacramumt so torad agns didion do’n dnme ann gac dcaid. Air an adbar go g-cotnigeann ann niiilact luct an t-saidbris, neartnigeann a b-foigid luct an daibns ; cnireann solás air Inct an dúláis ; beir cobair do luct an tinnis; bideann ann a Idn aig an muintir bideas aig fagail biis ; cnireann laidireact agus beodas annta ; beireann siad, mar Elias go Sláib Óreb, se sin go catair Di . — Et airibulavit in fortitudiiie cibi illius usque ad montem Dei Horeb (3 Reg. c. six, v. 8). Ni b-£uil, a cairde, arm is snrailte, agns is Meactaige ’na an t-Sacramnint is aomta so, ann diobairt agns bnsead a cur air leogan craosac sud, an Diabal, bideas go cinnte, mar deir Naoiii Peadar, aig cur libnta agus Inideacán roiiiainn ann ar slige.— Taiiquaia Ico rugiens circuit quos^ rens quern devoret (1 Pet. 5) : Air an adbar, r^ir mar rea- siinas Naoiii Tomas, de brig gur coiiiarta agus cuiiiine air pais Criost an t-Sacramuint so, agus gur rug Cnbst le cneadad a coirp Naomta buaid air Ifrionn, agus air a luct aitreaib, co luat a’s cid an Diabal Corp Criost faoi ar m-broinn, beir sé cul dáinn, agus áit do na áinglib a tig ’g ar g-cniiidugad. Do bi fos mar buaid air crann na beat a go g-cuiiiddcad a nieasa an té d’ itead siad 6 bas corporda, aót is mo ’ná sin go mur an buaid a ta air an g-crann diada so, torad bronn na Maigidne Mnire, a cniiiduigeas 6 bas, ni se niiiain an corp act an t-anam, ball is uaisle, reir mar dearbuigeas Criost ar slinuigteoir aig Eon Apstol anns an seisead caib., rann 52, mar a deir, “an te iteas de ’n ardn so ni b-fuig bas go brat . — Si quis manducaverit ex hoc panSj vivet in ceternum. Aiiiail a’s mar deirfad se, SERMONS OF THE 195 people to keep safe the conjugal state ; for the unem- ployed class to subdue their flesh ; it is a sure safeguard to virgins against incentives to lust. This wheat of the elect is a shield of defence to the clergy for securing their continency, and they are incited through its heavenly sweetness to renounce and despise the alluring pleasures of this world. YeSj this Sacrament gives assistance and protection to man, upon all occasions. Hence it keeps the rich in humility it fortifies the patience of the poor ; it gives solace to the afflicted, and relief to the sick ; it serves as a viatecum to dying persons ; it animates and strengthens them ; it brings them, like Elias, to Mount Horeb, that is, to the city of God. — 3 Reg. xix. 8. Nay, my brethren, there is not an armour so sure and so effectual as this blessed Eucharist, for overcoming and putting to flight that ravenous lion — the devil — who is continuously setting snares and ambushes for us, as St. Peter says, “He goes about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” — 1 Peter. For, as St. Thomas reasons, this Sacrament is a memorial as well as a com- memoration of Christ’s passion; and Jesus Christ, by crucifying his divine body, conquered hell and those that dwell there. As soon as the devils perceive that we have received the blessed Eucharist into our breast, they abandon us immediately, and give place to the angels who come to protect us. Still the tree of life had another virtue, that its fruit would preserve those who ate of it from corporal death. But this divine tree, the fruit of the womb of the blessed Virgin Mary, has a far more excellent quality; it preserves from death, not only the body, but the soul, the most noble part, as Jesus Christ, our Saviour, testifies in St. John, vi., where he says: “Whoever eats of this bread shall live for ever ;” as if he would say, whoever receives this Sacrament, this spiritual nourishment, with 19G MOST BEY. DB. OALLAOEEB. cia b’ se glacfas an t-Sacramuint so le cfocrus naomta agus glame comsiais, cuirfaid an oileariinin spiora- dalta so meisneac agns láidireaét ann a anam, r^ir mar cnireas an oileaiiiuin corporda beodas anns an g-colan air mod ann aice na ngrasa, a liieuduigeas a's Bronnas air, go m-beir se buaid air gac peacaid sol ad a leonas se, air claonla na colna a liieallas se. Ardmgcann an t-Sacrammnt so an duine <5 staid na ngrasa go staid na gli5ire, 6 staid neaih-Buan an t-saogail so go staid do- caillte Partais — Si quis manducaverit, &c. 0, a Cnbstaid, a gnid comaoineaia glana, cad se mend do sonais agus do luaideacta ! Ni se aiiiain go B-£agann tu an uile grasa agus an uile coBair, agus an uile liiaiteas, act £os geiB ugdar gac grasa agus gac maitis, losa Cnbst, !^^ac De, a turlmgeas as na Flaitis ann arus agus lonad coiiinuige a deanad de d’anam. Act de’n taoB eile cad se meud do droc-ada agus do donais, muna d-tairg£aid tu loistin d’anama a Beit ann ordugad; se sin, a Beit saor, glan, 6 gac brddar agus <5 gac salacar peacaid ; agus muna d-tairg£aid tu na coingiallaca a Beit agat, a ta riactana j ann Comaoineaca glana do deanad ; reir mar tairg£eas me crutugad anns an dara punc. An dara punc — An t-Apstol Pol, aig sgrioB cum na g-Corintmeac, Beir aciiiusan geur, agus lomardad ro mdr doiB £aoi olcas a’s gnid siad siad £ein d’ ollihugad ann Comaoineaca do deanad ; agus dearBuigeann gur b’ uime cuir Dia plaig agus gac gort agus gac eug, an-Bas agus gac galar Bi ann a measg; cuir sciilrsa orta £aoi gac eas- onóir agus masla Beir siad do Criost, aig glacad a Coirp Naonita air droc-staid . — Ideo inter vos multi injirmi, im- becilles^ et dormiunt multi (Cor. xi., 30.) 0, Apstoil uasail, ma tá tu aig eagcaoin co mdr so air na ConntiniB, Bi a d-tus naEagluise, ’s an am a raiB soilse an SERmNS OF THE 197 holy avidity, and purity of conscience, will receive life and vigour for his soul, even as corporal food gives life to the body, — in union with the graces, which it increases and bestows on him, so that he conquers every venial sin to which he is subject, and the propensities of the flesh which seduce him. This holy Sacrament exalts man from the state of grace to the state of glory ; from the fleeting state of this world, to the lasting and secure state of paradise. 0 Christian, who makest a worthy communion, how great is thy good fortune and thy great gain ! You not only obtain all grace, help, and goodness, but you receive the author of all grace and blessedness — Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who descends from heaven to take up his dwelling and his abode in your soul. But, on the other hand, how great your bad luck and misfortune, if you do not endeavour to have the dwelling of your soul set in order, namely, free and pure from all stain and from all filth of sin ; if you do not endeavour to have these dispositions, which are necessary for making a worthy communion, as I shall endeavour to prove in the second part. Second part — In writing to the Corinthians, St. Paul gives them a sharp reproof for the bad manner in which they had prepared themselves for communion ; and he asserts that even plagues, famines, disease, disorder, and sudden deaths, which God sent among them, were sent as a scourge, for the dishonour and indignity which they gave Jesus Christ, by receiving his divine body in a bad state. — 1 Cor. xi. 33. O noble apostle, if you complained thus of the Corinthians, who were in the early times of the church. 198 MOST REV. DR. GALLAOEER. creidim mar locran ameasg na b-poibleaca; ’s an am a raiB an cartanact air lasad a g-croide gac duine ; ’s an am a raib crabad agus caondutract air bun aig an dg mar an arsaig cad se dearfair leis an aim sir so, ann ar dibread an creideam, ann ar fnaruig an cartanact, ann ar imig an caondutract — ’s an am nac b-fuil ann ait an creidiiii act anfios, agus eiriceact ; nac b-fuil ann áit na cartanacta act £uat, diogaltas, agus droc-teact eidir an uile giie droinge daoine ; ’s an am nac b-fuil ann ait craibeacta act brisead saoire, brisead troisge, agus brisead na n-aiteanta; gan binn air aifrionn, gan binn air urnaige, gan binn air seanmoir, gan bmn air deág-gmoiiiartaib . — Et qxioniam dbiindav'd iniquitas., frigescit caritas multorum (Matt, xxiv., 12.) 0, a cairde, ma ’s peacad co m(5r so Corp Cnbst a glacad gan ollihugad ceart lonnos gur taramg eug, anbás, agus dio-slainte air na Corintmib cad se an t-adbar uat- báis, cad se an t-adbar eagla, a ta aig Criostaidib na áimsire so, a teid aig caitead an feusta mdr luacmar so gan olliiiugad, gan aitrige, gan dearcad rompa air mordact De, a ta eiad a glacad, no feucaint ann a n-diaig air ineud a b-peacaid ! Cad se an sciiirsa, cad se an diogaltas, tuitfeas air an muintir teid aig glacad an Aram N’eamda le ceatraiiiad inntine agus smuaintidib saogalta, tar eis faoisidin gan rat a deanad ; tar eis samlugad innseact tabairt air a b-peacaid os comair sagairt, gan scrudad coinsiais air bit roiiiie, no riin leasuigte. O, Apstoil P(jil, dá mairfeá ’n dm cad se mar goilfeá mar screadfá, agus mar caoinfea, dá b-£eic£eá corp glóir- liiar do maigistir, Criost, ’g a cur a g-carcair salaca, a g-camrat an oilc, ann a g-croide loctac, mar gnid luct comaoineaca na áimsire so ! 0, a Poil, má bi longantas SERMONS OF THE 199 when the light of religion was like a luminary among the people — when charity was enkindled in the heart of every person — when piety and devotion were practised by the young as well as the old, what would you say of these times, when religion is banished, charity has grown cold, and devotion has fled ? A time in which nought succeeds religion, but ignorance and heretical errors ; instead of charity, nothing remains but hatred, revenge, and ani- mosity, between every class of people ; a time, that instead of piety, nothing exists but violation of the Sabbath, violation of the Fast^ and violation of the Com- mandments, with no regard for mass, for prayer, for sermons, or for good works : “ Because iniquity has abounded, the charity of many is growing cold. — Matt, xxiv. 12. O, my brethren, if the receiving of the Blessed Eucharist without the necessary dispositions be so enormous a sin, as to have brought disease, sudden death and disorder on the Corinthians, what cause of astonish- ment, what a cause of dread, have not the Christians of these times, who partake of this priceless feast without any preparation, without penance, without remembering the majesty of God, whom they are going to receive, or reflecting on the excess of their sins ! What a terrible scourge — what vengeance shall fall upon those who go to receive this heavenly bread with a distracted mind, and with wordly thoughts, after making a profitless con- fession — after a pretended narrative of their sins to a priest, without any previous examination of conscience, or a resolution of amendment ! 0, Apostle Paul, if you were living to-day, how would you cry, bewail and lameat, when you should see the glorious body of thy divine master, Jesus, cast into an unclean prison — into a coffin of iniquity — into the foul heart of those who communicate those times ! 0, Paul, if you and the Holy Fathers were astonished, that the 200 MOST REV. DB. GALLAGHER. ort fern, agas air na AitrealaiB Naomta faoi rad gur glac Mac De colan daonda faoi Broinn na Maigidine Miure, a Bi gan ball gan sal peacaid, cad se an t-uatBas a Beidead ort, da B-feicfeá se ’n diu aig dul faoi Broinn na mum- tire a ta Mn de salaiar agus de liiuilleog an peacaid ! — Kon liom’uisli Yirginis uterum. 0, Apstoil CraBaig, nac air an mumtir so tractas tu, an uair a deir tu go n-atceus- ann an lomad Cnbst, agus go g-cuireann a cneada aris air silead ? — Rursum crwcifijentes sibi metipds Filium Dei (Rih yi., 6). Is orta gan aiiirus : air an adBar ca B-fuil croic aig Dia na uiiilacta, is mó ’na croide uaiBreac easuinal ? Ca B-£uil croic aig Dia na foigide, is mo ’ni croide feargac diogaltac ? Ca B-fuil croic aig feat an na geamnnuideacta is mo ’ni luct na driiise, Bideas a luidead go laetaniail a leaba an adaltrunais, agus nac mian leo ciil taBairt d’ si ? Ca B-fuil croic aig Mac Di is mo ’ná luct na mionna mir, Bideas aig taBairt ainm naoiiita mar liiionna gac uair, agus gac moimeint ? Ni B-fuil gan aiiirus croic air bit aig Cnbst is mo ’ná dul faoi Broinn na mumtire Bideas tugta do na peacaid so, agus nac m-bid- eann diiil aca eirig asta. “ Cad fa a g-ceangaltar me,” deir Naoiii AiBistin, aig laBairt leis pn b-peacac a b-pear- sain Cnbst, “ air croic dúlásac do peacaid ?” Croic is pianaiiila Iiom mile uair ’ná an croic siid air ar ceusad me air SleiB Caluari. — Cur one graviori tuorum criminum a'uci^ quam ilia in qua quondam prependerani affixisti. 0, Cnostaid, cad se meud do daille, nac leur duit mdr- trócaire Mic De, no a tiodlaca duit ’n uair a líir-ísligeas se se fe'in co mir sin agus a teact as na Flaitis, as focair an Atar sioruid le a B-tuil a g-com-gloir, agus a g-com- cumacta, cum lonnad coiiinuigte do deanad de cre'atdr co neani-Brigiiiar leatsa. — Vermis et non homo (Ps xxi., 7.) SERMONS OF THE 201 Son of God should take human nature, in the immaculate womb of the blessed Virgin Mary, who was free from the least spot or stain of sin, what terror would not you be in, if you were to see him going this day into the breasts of those who are polluted with the filth and mire of sin ! Non hormisli virginis uterum. 0 most devout apostle, is it not of these people you speak, when you say, that many “ crucify again to themselves Jesus Christ, and make him a mockery ?” — (Heb. vi. 6.) Cer- tainly it is, because where has the God of Humility a cross greater than the heart which is a slave to pride and disobedience ? Where has the God of Patience a cross greater than the heart full of anger and revenge ? Where has the mirror of chastity a cross greater than the libidinous, who lie every day in the bed of adultery, without the least intention of abandoning the vice ? Has the Son of God a greater cross than those who swear by his holy name, every hour and every moment ? Jesus Christ has, surely, no greater cross than to enter into the souls of such as are addicted to these sins, and who have not any notion of renouncing them. “Why am I (says 'St. Augustin, speaking to the sinner, in the person of Christ) tied to the dolorous cross of thy sins ? A cross more painful to me, a thousand times, than that cross on which I was crucified on Mount Calvary ?” Cif^r me gmviori tuorum criminum crucif guam illam in qiia quondam jpependeram, affixisti. O Christians, how great is your blindness, that you have no conception of the infinite mercy of the Son of Go(3, or his unbounded gifts to you, whereas he has humbled himself to that degree, as to descend from heaven, from the bosom of his Eternal Father, with whom he is co-equal in glory and in power, in order to take u^j 202 MOST BEV, DB. GALLAGHER. Dá n-deanfad saogalta d’ ondir duit teact air cuairt ann do tige cad se an ditcioll, cad éé an dntract óaitfeá ann a belt glan, ordamail, faoi n-a édihair ? Agns ni glacfaid tn saotar dá Inga teac d’ anama a cnr ann or- dugad faoi cdiiiair Eig na Rig. Ni spáralfá dr no airgead ann solaiiinm agus feasta dean ad fo cdiiiair an Rig talniaid Slid ; agns ni tairgeann tii feusta no siíbáilce belt agat fo cdmair Criost nac g-cosnocad airgead no dr dnit. Maisead, a cáirde, an te le ar mian Mac De, a tabairt go Idistin anama, ata tri neite riactanac aige, mar a ta glame coinsiais, umlact, agns cartanact : an te aig a m-beid na subáice so, is feidir leis a dnl air agaid le dotcus cum an feusta so ; agus geabfaid sd lonmus na ngrása a d-tobar na ngrdsa, Criost. Act an te nac m-beid aige na coin- giallaia so, na laiiiuigead sd teact a g-cdmair na Sacramuinte so, no beid an t-Arin so na Beata ann a ordn biis aige, agus an Cailis so na Slainte ann a éaslainte liiarbac Qui enim manducatet hibit indigne, jiLdicium sibL mnndiLcat ct hihit^} Gor. xi., 29). Cualaid sib ceana, as an Scrioptiiir diada,go leigeasocad torad irainn na beata Adani,d aois agns d tinneas, co mime agus d’ losfad se. Act leigeamiiid anns an ait ieadna nac raib se ceaduigteaig Adam bias de torad an crainn so, act co fada a’s bi sd a staid an lonracais, se sin saor 6 peacad. Co luat a’s rinne sd an peacad, aig ite ubail na aitne, nior b’ feidir leis a dul a ngaire an crainn 80 m'os mo ; dibread se as Partas ; cuir Dia aingeal mar gtirda air crann na beata agus cloideani lasarda ann a Lniii. Mar an g-ceadna ni b-fuil se ceadui^e aig dmne air bit bias de ’n t-Sacramumt Naonita so act aig an td a m-bdid comsias glan, saor 6 peacad no aig an te curiiduig lonracas 6 n-a Baisde, no má caill se sd leis an b-peacad, nig agus sciiir a coinsias le trom deorcab na aitrige. ■ SERMONS OF THE 203 his abode in so poor a creature as thou art ! — Psalm ii. 7.) If an earthly king should do you the honour to visit your habitation, what efforts, what assiduity would you not use to be clean and orderly for his reception ! and you will not take the least pains to set the mansion of your soul in order before the King of kings ; you would spare neither gold nor silver in preparing a reception and feast for this earthly king, and you do not endeavour to have the feast of divine grace prepared for Jesus Christ’s coming, although it would cost you neither gold nor silver. To sum up, my friends, whosoever desires to bring the Son of God to the habitation of his soul, must have three qualifications which are deemed necessary — these are cleanness of conscience, humility, aud charity. Who- soever has these virtues, may with confidence approach this feast, by which he shall find the treasures of divine grace, in the fountain of grace, Jesus Christ. But who- soever hath not these dispositions, let him not attempt to approach this holy Sacrament, else this bread of life will be that of death, and this chalice of health will become a source of deadly disease — (1 Cor. xi.) You have already heard how the fruit of the tree of life would preserve Adam from age and from sickness, as often as he would eat of it ; but we read in the same place, that he had no permission to taste of the fruit of this tree, but whilst he was in the state of innocence, that is, free from sin ; as soon as he committed sin, by eating of the forbidden fruit, he had no permission to come near it for the future ; he was banished from paradise. God sent an angel to guard, with an naked sword in his hand, the tree of life. In like manner, no person is permitted to taste of this holy Sacrament, save the person who has a conscience pure and free from sin — one who has preserved his innocence from baptism, or having lost it by sin, has ■washed and cleansed his conscience with heavy tears of penance. 204 MOST BEV. EE. OALLAGHEE. A ta, mar an g-ceadna, an uriilact riactanac aig an te, le ’r mian Corp Criost a giacad ; a ta an t-suBáilce so co tait- neamac, tairBeac sin a B-fiagnuise De, air mod go n-ad- mmgeann an Maigdion Muire gnr ’ngeall air a uriilact, tar gac sribáilce eile, fuair si de grasa 6 í)ia, Mac De teact faoi n-a broinn . — Bespexit humilitatem ancillo& suce (Luc. I. 48). D’ a Brig sin, a Criostaid, le ’r mian Criost a giacad faoi do Broinn riirislig tu féin, mar an Oig, Mnire, cum go m-b’ fin tu an onóir so d’ fagail. Ann aice na uriilacta agus glaine coinsiais a ta an t-suBailce neariida, an cartanact, riactanac aig an te le ’r mian Comaoineac do deanad. So matair gac deag-gnioirii ; so bamrigean gac suBailce ; so an t-suBailce, nac fid brot urnaige no trosgad, no aon rid eile do deanamuid munar raiB si againn, Agus mar nac d-teid an oileaihain cor- porda a d-tairBe do ’n corp, gan teas nadurda a Beit aige cum dileagad a deanad, mar a g-ceadna, ni teid an oilea- liiain spioradalta so ann socair do ’n anam gan teas-grad na cartanacta a Beit ann a áice . — Si autem non habucro cavitatem^ nihil sum (I Cor. xiii., 2.) Cid siB, anois, a cairde, cad sd meud na luaideacta, agus na tairBe, a ta le fágail aig an td glacfas an t-Sacramuint so, gur b’ SI IS oileariiain agus is beata do ’n anam, go meuduigeann na grasa annti, agus go neartuigeann si ann agaid gac catuigte. Agus cid siB air an taoB eile, nac nid nios luga ’ná dammugad a ta le fagail aigan td glacas an t-Sacra- muint so air droc-staid, Ollmuigead, mar sin, gac aon se fein le ’r mian a giacad ; scidrad agus glanad sd a coin- sias le trom-dedraiB na áitrige. Giacad se an t-arán neariida so le ciocrus agus fonn, giacad se se le cartanact agus le uiiilact, agus geaBfaid si o Dia lomadariilact an SERMONS OF THE 205 Humility is also necessary for him who is inclined to receive the blessed Eucharist ; this virtue is so accept- able and so profitable before God, that the Blessed Virgin declares, it was on account of her humility above all her other virtues, that God granted her the privilege of con- ceiving the Son of God in her womb. — (Luke, i. 48.) You, therefore, 0 Christian, who art resolved to receive Jesus Christ into your bosom, humble yourself like the Virgin Mary, in order that you may be worthy to receive this honour. ISText to humility and purity of conscience, the heavenly virtue of charity is necessary for those who are about to communicate. This virtue is the mother of all good works, she is queen of all virtues ; this is the virtue, which is so great that prayers, fasting, or any other good deeds we may do, are unavailing, unless accompanied by it. And as corporeal food does not tend to the benefit of the body, unless it have the heat natural for digestion; so in like manner, this spiritual food does not tend to the benefit of the soul, without the warming heat of charity. “If I have not charity I am nothing.” — 1 Cor. xiii. 2. You can now perceive, my brethren, the great privilege and the vast benefit those are about to obtain, who receive this Sacrament, that it is the nourishment and the life of the soul, that it increases divine grace, and fortifies the soul against every temptation. You see, on the other hand, that it is nothing less than eternal damnation for those who receive this Sacrament unworthily. Let every one prepare himself who is inclined to receive the body of Christ ; let him purge and cleanse his conscience with the tears of penance. Let him receive this heavenly food with avidity and with eagerness ; but let him receive it 206 MOST BEV. DB, G ALL AGEE B. n-grasa anns an t-sao^al so, agus an glóir éioruicl auns an t-sagal eile : Nid ta mise ’g larraid daoiB-se an Ainm an Atar agus an Mic agus an Spioraid Naom. — ■Amén. AN DEIÚMAÍ) SEANMOIR. AIR ÍAIRBE agus air COINGIALLAIB NA AITRIOE. Bo^ia est oratio magis qiiam thesauros auri recotidere. Ni B-£uil Birciste air bit is tairBige ’ná an Urnaige, — Briatra an Spioraid Naoim aig Tobias anns an t-octiiiad rann de ’n domad caibidil deug. Do sgrioB an File eagnac, Cicero, air na suBailcidiB go B-fuil. siad CO sciamac sin annta fein, air mod da m-b’ feidir IB duine a B-feicsint le n-a siiiliB corpor3a, go lion- fad se lán d’a ngrad, agus nac B-fuil nid air bit nac n-deaniad mar geall air a m-beit aige. Is fBidir liomsa ’n diu an nid ceadna a rad leis an urnaige, go B-fuil si co alum, maiseac sin annti fein, air mod nac B-fuil duine air bit tuigfead a tairBe agus a milseact nac lionfad d’a grad, agus nac racfad sgit air coidce act aig urnaige. Do Bi an Naom oirdeirc San Antoine a ngrad co mdr sin leis an urnaige, gur tuig se a milseact agus a tairBe co mait sm, air mod go m-bud gearr leis an oidce b’ faide aig molad agus aig guide De, Ann ait luatgáire Beit air faoi Birmgad na grBine Bi se dulásac, torsac, faoi sgarad le uaigneas na oidce ; agus gid gur lonrac, soilseac, an nid an grian, agus go sáruigeann si gac crdatiir eile a sgeiih agus a n-deise, meas San Antoine gur mó an solus, an ailne, agus an maise, Bi anns an urnaige ’na ánntí fBin agus a g-crBatdir an t-saogail uile . — Quid me impedisj o sol SERMONS OF TEE 207 with charity and humility, and he shall obtain from God an immensity of grace in this life, and glory eternal in the next ; which is a blessing I wish you all— .Amen. SERMON X. ON THE ADVANTAGES AND CONDITIONS OF PRAYER. Ro7ia est oratio magis guam thesauros atiri recondere. “ There is no treasure so beneficial as prayer ” — Words taken from Tobias, xii, c., 8 v. The sage philosopher, Cicero, in his treatise on the Virtues, says, they are so beauteous in themselves that were it possible for man to behold them with corporal eyes, he would become so exceedingly enamoured with them, as to undertake anything, how difficult soever, in order to get possession of them. I may say the same thing of Prayer — it is so beauteous and lovely in itself, that there is no person who could comprehend the benefit and sweetness of it, that would not become so exceedingly enamoured with it, that he would never cease to pray. The great and illustrious St. Anthony was so extremely in love with prayer, he conceived the sweetness and benefit of it so well, that he thought the longest night too short for praising and supplicating God. Instead of being rejoiced at the rising of the sun, he was wont to be sad and sorrowful parting with the solitude of night. Although the sun is so brilliant and radiant that it ex- ceeds all other objects in beauty and comeliness, yet, St. Anthony considered that there are found greater splendour, beauty and charms, in prayer, than in that and all the creatures in the whole world. It is not St. Anthony 208 MOST BEV. BE. GALLAGHEB. qiii ad hoc jam oriris ut me ah hujus luminis ahstvahas clar- itate ? Agus ni se San Antoine aiháin a bi de’n intinn so, act fus gac naom agus gac bean-naoih tainic romainn; do bi siad tugta co mór do ’n urnaige go b-faigdis an oiread sin milseacta agus sasta annti, air mod mar a deir San Bearnárd nár measa leo geataid Partais a dunad orta ’ná sgarad leis an urnaige. — Hand secus accspissent, quam si de Pasadiso eb ah ipso introitu glorice se conspicerent de- tarhan {Serm. xxv., Sup. Cant.) Is nid longantac so, a cáirde, is áit aoibnis agus sásta, Partas, nior conairc siiil agus nior cualaid cluas, ni feidir le inntleact duine air bit smaoinead no taibsiugad cad se liact sólás agus maiteas a ta le fagail a b-Partas. Maisead, ann a diaig so agus uile, IS breugac an Naoiii gldriiiar, San Bearnard, no is mo an liiilseact agus an sásam a geabfad na Naoiiii anns an urnaige ’ná a b-Partas fein. Oc, mo truaig, cad se loigiod a’s tuigeas milseact agus luaideact na tJrnaige air an uair so ! Cad se loigiod a’s leanas lorg na Naoiii sud, le ’r gearr an la agus an oidce da faide, aig guide agus aig molad Dé ! Bealaó con- trarda leanas mur-iiibr an t-saogail so. Ann áit molad no buideacas a tabairt do í)ia, se masluigid agus mallui- gid se, le mionnaib mura, graosdact, agus itiomrad. Easba eoluis agus creidiiii beir orta, air n-doig, neam- suim CO mór so a deanad de tiodlaca co mdr-luaic leis an IJrnaige, agus d’a brig sin tairgfaid mise an diu solus a tabairt daoib air a luaideact, agus air a ^ifeact, tar éis mo comrad do ruinn ann a da punc. Ta an Urnaige tairbeac leagaid slánuigte an Duine ; sin an ceud punc. Tá coingilla airid aig an Urnaige ; sin an dara punc An ceud punc. — Is uime graduigeas no santuigeas an duine nid a.r bit, mar geall air an mait a iheasas s6 a beit SERMONS OF THE 209 alone that was of this opinion, but all the saints who came before us. They were so exceedingly devoted to prayer, and they could find such sweetness and pleasure in it, as St. Bernard remarks, that they would as soon have the gates of Paradise closed against them as to give up communion with God in prayer. Hand secus accepissent quam si de ParoLdiso el ah ipso introitu glorice se conspicerei t deturhari (^Serm. 25, Sup» Gant.). This is astonishing, my brethren, considering that Paradise is so charming and delightful a place, that neither eye has seen, nor has ear heard, nor is it possible for the heart of man to think or conceive what joy and bliss are found in Paradise : yet the glorious St. Bernard asserts — and he ' was not given to exaggeration, or untruth — that tho saints could find more sweetness in prayer than in Paradise itself. Alas ! how few are there, in these times, who under- stand the sweets and delights of prayer ! How few are there who imitate these saints, who thought the longest day and night too short for pouring forth their praises and supplications to God ! The greater part of the worldings of our day follow an opposite course ; instead of giving praises and thanksgiving to God, they insult and blaspheme him by swearing, by immodest language, and by detraction. The want of knowledge and of faith I suppose, causes them to neglect so inestimable a gift as prayer is, and therefore I shall endeavour this day to give you an idea of the influence and efficacy of prayer. I will divide my subject into two parts. First — Prayer is profitable for man’s salvation. Second — There are certain conditions necessary for prayer, so as to render it profitable. — The Ave Maria, &c. First point — Man loves a thing and desires it accord- 210 MOST JREV. DU. GALLAGEEB. ann. Maisead, ma’s adliar diimn gratl do Beit agamn air md tr/d a maiteas ca B-fuil nid 6 Dia irnas is C(jra diimn a gradugad ’ná an urnaige ? De Brig go B-fagmuid annti loniiius gac maitis, agus gar b’ si matair agus freuih gac maitis ; air mod, mar deir San AiBistm, an té cleactas an urnaige, go nglacann se an rdd direac go Par- tas — Vere enim novit rede vivere, qui novit rede orare , — agus mar deir Solom leis an g-crionact, go d-tig an uile- liiait ann aomfeact leis an urnaige cugainn . — Venerwit autem omnia bona pariter cum ilia (Sap. vii., 11). Is fóidir le nid a Beit mait air tri mod, mar a ta an nair a Bideas cneasta ann Mn, no tairBeac aig an dume, no an uair a Bideas sasaiiiail no greanriiar. Maisead, ni’l cáilideact doiB so nac B-fuil ’s an urnaige : a tá sf cneasta annti fein ; tá si tairBeac aig an duine ; agus an ié cleac- tas SI geiB sé milseact agus aoiBneas do-cuimsigte annti. — Bona est oratio, magis quam thesauros auri recondere. Go B-fuil an urnaige cneasta annti £ein, is furas a crutugad, de Brig nac B-£uil nid air bit is mo taoBui- geas Dia leis an dume anns an t-Sean Tiomna agus auns an Tiomna Huad, ’ná an urnaige a deanad. “ Is ágin daoiB,” deir Criost aig Lucas ’s an t-octriiad caibidil deug, “ a Beit coidce aig urnaige .” — Oportet semper orare et non dcjicere (Luc. xviii., c. 1). Deir se linn an ait eile gan sgit dul orainn, act aig guide agus aig molad De. — Sine intermissione orate (1 Thess. v., ^17) ; agus an áit eile nac B-£uil meodan no slige le buaid do Breit air na catuigte is £earr ’na an urnaige . — Vigilate et orate ub non intretis in tentationem (Mat. xxvi., 41.) Ni £éidir dume air bit a sMnugad, muna n-admócaid agus muna g-creid£aid go B-£uil Dia ann ; gur b’ sé an Dia so ard-rig agus árd-stiuruigteoir an doiiiam ; gur b’ se an Dia so ar n-atair; gur b’ se an Dia so ar g-crutuigteoir agus ar sUnuigteoir . — G redere enini oportet accedentem ad Jjeum quod est, et inquirentihus se rcmunerator sit (Eeb. xi,, 6,) Maisead, a cáirde, ni B-£uil slige no meadam aig an dume ann so coiiilionad is £eirr ’ná an urnaige. Air an SERMONS OF THE 211 ing to the amount of good he sees in it. Well, then, if we have cause to esteem or love a thing for its worth or goodness, where is there anything under heaven, less than God himself, we should love before prayer ? Because in it we seek the enjoyment of goodness, and it is itself the root and the mother of all goodness. For this reason St. Augustin remarks, that he who practises prayer, takes the direct road to Paradise ; and we may say of prayer what Solomon says of Wisdom, “That all good things come to us together with her.” — Chap. vii. 11. A thing may be good in three ways, for instance, when it is in itself right ; when it is to man beneficial ; or when it is delightful or pleasant. There is not one of these principles which is not found in prayer. It is right and just in itself ; it is beneficial to man ; and he who practises it, shall find an incomparable sweetness and pleasure in it. That prayer is just in itself, is easily proved, because there is nothing which God more strenuously recommends to man in the Old and New Testament, than to pray. “You ought always to pray,” says Christ in St. Luke, chap, xviii. 1. He tells us in another place, not to cease supplicating and praising God — “Pray without ceasing. — 1 Thes. v. 17. He tells us that there is no way or means for overcoming tempta- tions more effectual than prayer — “Watch ye and pray, that ye enter not into temptation.” — Matt. xxvi. 41. No person can be saved unless he acknowledge and believe that there is one God — that this God is the supreme Lord and sovereign director of the whole world, that this God is our father, that this God is our creator and our redeemer. Well, my friends, man has no way or means better than prayer for accomplishing this object. Because prayer is a sacrifice which we offer up to God, 212 MOST REV. DR. GALLAGHER. adbar gur lodbairt an urnaige ofralamuid do Dia le a n-adiiiuigmuid a mdrdact agus a maiteas ; gur dualgas agus clos-cáin si beiramuid do Í)ia mar Ard-Kig na cruinne ; oirBidm agus ondir si Keiramuid do I)ia, mar a clainn, mar sd ar n-Atair se. Comarta comumn si Beira- muid do i)ia ann diric gac maitis a gnid se orainn. — Quid relriluam Domino pro omnibus qux retrihuit mihi ? — Nomen Domini invocabo (Ps. cxv., 12 and 13.) Agus, a Oriostaid, dá m-beidead gan atrugad de rJasun agat an urnaige a deanad, act go b-fuil an oiread sm de diiil agus de spdis aig Dia annti, an B-fuil nid anns an doiiian, is md ta ain-deanta agat, lodbairt molta agus buideacais a taBairt Dd, gac uair agus gac am ?^Sacrificium laudis hcmorijicabit me {Ps. xlix., 28). Ma creidamuid, a cairde, briatra Di anns an Scriop- tdir, no raidte na n-Atara Naomta, tainic romainu, ni B-£uil sgat orm aig dearBugad nac B-fuil nid air bit is tairBige aig an duine 'ná an urnaige. Cualaid siB ceana go n-dearBuigeann an Spiorad Naoiii, gur feirr agus gur tairBige an urnaige do 'n duine ’ná dr agus saidBreas na cruinne. —Bonn est oratio, marjis quam thesauros auri recon- dere. Agus ni gan adBar, de Brig nac B-fuil tiodlaca no grasa a B-Flaitis, nac B-fuil comorad no cuidiugad, said- Breas no maoin air talam, nac B-fuil le fagail aig an td guideas Dia d croide. A ta focal Criost mar Barranta againn leis an firinne so aig Marcus anns an seisead cai- bidil, ann a n-deir se nac B-£uil uid air bit larrfam’ airí)ia, ’s an urnaige nac B-faigeam’. — Omnia quoecumque orantes petiiis, credite quia accipietis {Mar. xi., 24.J “ Cad se an nid an urnaige,” a deir San AiBistin. Ta eocair Partais. Ni luaite arduigeas gut an firdin cum Flaiteas ’na foscalas geataid Partais, agus a tuirlingas nuas orainn mdr-trdcaire agus grasa De ann a tuile. — Oratio justi clavis est Godi. Oratio ascendit et miseratio de- sccndit. Oc, a peacaig, a Bideas go laetaiiiail aig brisead aite- SERMONS OF THE 213 whereby we acknowledge his supreme majesty and bounty — it is a homage and a tribute which we render to God as sovereign Lord of the universe — it is a reverence and an honour which we, as children, pay to God, because He is our Father, and it is a sign of affectionate gratitude we render unto God in return for his bounty to us. — • Psalm cxv. 13. And, Christians, if you had no other reason to pray than because God has so much liking and esteem for it, is there anything in the world it behoves you to do more than to offer him a sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving at all hours and at all times ? — Psalm xlix. My friends, if we give credit to the words of God in the sacred scripture, or the sayings of the holy Fathers, I am not afraid to say that there is nothing so profitable to man as prayer. You have already heard that the Holy Ghost testifies, that prayer is better and more bene- ficial to man than gold or all the wealth in the world. A nd not without reason, because there are no gifts nor graces in heaven, and on earth no consolation nor succour nor wealth nor fortune, that are not likely to be obtained by those who pray to God from their hearts. You have the words of Jesus Christ in testimony to^ this truth in St. Mark, where he says, that there is nothing which we ask of God in prayer that shall not be granted unto us. — Mark, xi. 24. “All things whatsoever you adk, when ye pray, believe that you shall receive and they shall come into you.” What is prayer, says St. Augustine. It is the key of Paradise. No sooner does the voice of the faithful ascend up towards the Heavens, than the gates of Paradise fly open, and the abundant streams of mercy and grace from God descend in torrents upon us. 0 sinner, thou who art daily violating God’s law and 214 MOST REV. BE. GALL AGREE. anfca De, le £uat agus le feirg, le brisead saoire agus troisge, le mionnaib mora agus meisge, cad se minicideact a’s druid tu dorsa Partais ann d’ agaid, agus, oc mo truaig ! cad se co anaiii a’s foscalas tu siad ans, aig guide De no Muire. Cad se liact anam boot an dm air slaBraiB aig an diaBal agus nac n-deanann usaid de’n eocair so, ann a slaBiaid do sgaolad. Cad se liact duine air Bruac an poill duimsid dorca sud Ifrinn, reid ligte ann tuitim ann, agus nac n-iarrann congnaiii, no coBair air Dia, ann a g-congBáil as ! Ni B-fuil nid air bit is cosanila leis an te nac n-deanann an Urnaige, deir Criost, ’na corp marB. Is fiosac siB, a cáirde, an uair a sgaras an t-anam leis an g-colan go m-bideann si fuar, siocta gan lufc gan aistir. Maisead mar an g-ceadna Bideas an t-anam nac n-deanann an urnaige, deir Criost, amis an áit ceadna ; bideann sB fuat- liiar, glonihar, a B-fiagnuise De ; bideann sé fuar siocta gan teasgrad De ; ni tig leis siuBal no aistir a deanad a slige a slánuigte. Bid se mar luing, gan stiuir, aig á teilgead cidir tonnaiB gac catuigte no go m-bristear sB faoi deire air cairgiB Ifrinn. Bid se mar catair gan ballaid, reid foscailte taoi coinair imeartais an diaBail, agus an-riiiantaiB na colna. Air an taoB eile, deir an doctiir ceadna, Naom Cru- soistim, gur locslainte an urnaige ann agaid niiiie an peacaid ; gur driict si ihucas an toil na colna ; gur arm deart ac si ann agaid catugad an diaBail — Aptissima arma oratio est — gur saidBreas sioruid si ann agaid gac boctaine- acta — Oraiio divitioe inexhaustoe ; gur cuan saBalta si do ’n duine ann gac breis, ann gac buairt, ann gac guais, agus ann gac baogal. Ann a focal ni’l eagla air an doctiir Naoihta aig dearBugad gur b’ si an urnaige tobar na ngrasa, caineál gac maitis, agus freurh agus mat air gac SERMONS OF THE 215 commandments, by hatred and anger, by the violation of the sabbath and of the fast, by swearing and by drunkenness, how often dost thou shut the doors of Paradise against thyself ! and alas, how seldom dost thou open them by praying to God, or by begging that the Blessed Virgin may intercede for them ! How many poor souls are this day enchained by the devil, and who make no use of this key to sunder their chains ! How many persons are on the brink of that dismal and dark pit of hell, ready, just on the point of being hurled into it, and yet seek neither aid nor relief from God, to save them from it. There is nothing that bears a stronger resemblance to one that does not pray than, as St. Chrysostom observes, a dead body. You know, my friends, when the soul leaves the body, the latter becomes cold and frigid, with- out motion or action. In like manner the soul without prayer becomes, St. Chrysostom, in the same place says, odious and loathsome in the sight of God; it cannot move or walk in the path of salvation. It is like a ship without a rudder, it is tossed about by the billows of every temptation, until at length it is wrecked on the rocks that lie in the roadway to Hell ; it is like a city with- out ramparts, quite exposed and open to the attacks of the devil, and to the inordinate desires of the flesh. On the other hand, the same Chrysostom remarks, that “ prayer is an antidote or balm against the poison of sin — that it is a dew which extinguishes all the ardent cravings of the flesh ; that it is a secure armour against the temptations of the devil ; that it is a treasure inex- haustible against all kinds of poverty ; that it is a safe harbour for man in every occasion of danger or destruc- tion ; in a word, the holy doctor hesitates not to assert 21G MOST REV. DR. GALLAGHER. tiodlaca neamda beir Dia do ’n dume . — Eons et radix Tiono- rum omnium innumerahilium^ oratio est {Orat. 4, de incom- preh. Dei Naiura.') Gid nac b-fuil áit no am, staid no gairm, saor air oib. liogáid na úrnaige agas go n-orduigeann Criost do ’n b-fireun agus do ’n b-poacac, do ’n m-broct agus do ’n t-saidbir, do ’n óg agus do ’n t-sean, do ’n maigistir agus do ’n t-searbfúntaid a g-croidte a togbáil cum o am go am, molad a tabairt Dá ann a tiodlacaib.— Oporiei semper orare (Luc. xviii, I). Cia b’ se ta oibliogaid cinnte air gac aon, urnaige a deanad air maidin agus air trátnóna. Air maidin, a deirim, an uair foscalas fuineoga an lae, IS cuir duinn fuineoga ar n- anama d’ foscailt f aoi comair grasa an Tigearna, agus a n* druidead ann agaid gac droc- riiin agus gac catuigte. Bidead d’ fiacaib air gac duine anus an t-seanract an ceud-gein tabairt do ’n Tigearna. Maisead ni larrann Dia oruinn anois an ceud-gem d’ ar g-cloinn, no d’ ar maoin, act taobuigeann linn, ar g-ceud smuainead tab an t Du-f(iin air maidin. Taobuigeann linn a d-tus an lae ordu- gad a cur air obair ar slánuigte ; ar g-croidte, ar smuainte, agus ar ngmoiiiarta d’ ofrail D(5 Mn, run laidir do glacad gan nid air bit a deanad ann agaid a dlige an M sm. Cia b’ se a deanfas so, agus oileaihain anama, mar a ta na grasa d’larraid roiiii nid air bit eile, ta focal De aige go b-fuig gac nid eile reir a riactanais . — Qnxrile ergo pri- mum Regnum Dei, et justitiam ejus, et omnia hoec adjicientur vobis {Matt, vi., 33). Oc ! a Criostaid, da m-bud leur leat gac eug, gac galar agus gac easlamte, a ta aig brat ort 6 éirugad go luidead, da m-bud leur leat gac lion agus gac luideacan a ta aig SEBMONS OF THE 217 that “Prayer is the fountain of grace, the channel of all goodness, and the main-spring and mother of every divine gift that God confers on man. Though no time nor place, state or calling, is free from the obligation of prayer, and though Jesus Christ admonishes the faithful, the just as well as the sinner, the poor, too, and the rich, the young and the old, the master and the servant, to raise their hearts to God from time to time, to praise him for his gifts, since it is said : “We should always pray,” yet, each individual is under a certain, strict obligation to pray both at morning and evening. In the morning, I say, when the windows of the dawn are opening upon us, we should throw open the windows of our souls to receive the grace of our Lord, and to close them against all evil inclinations and temptations. It was obligatory on every one in the old law to render unto the Lord the first born. Although God does not re- quire of us now-a-days the first-born in our household, or the first fruits of our earthly possessions, yet he relies on us that our first thoughts in the mornings be given to Himself. He expects of us, at the commencement of the day, to put the work of our salvation in order ; to offer to him our hearts, our thoughts, and our actions ; to make a firm resolution of doing nothing that may in any way violate His holy law during the day. Whoever acts in this way for his soul’s sake, and sues for grace which is the spiritual nurture of his soul, has the word of God for it, that he shall obtain every other thing according to his necessities : “Seek ye first the king- dom of God and His justice, and all these things shall be added unto you.” Matt. vi. 33. 0 dear Christians, if you could only see each disease, each malady and infirmity, that await you from bed rising to lying down ; if you could behold the snares 218 MOST BEV. DB. OALLAOHEE. Liisifear ague aig a éluai^tib ann do iharbuigte, ni racfad sgit ort coidce act aig guide Dé tu sábáil orta. An te nac n-deanann beir se le tuigsint nac b-fuil binn aige air anam, go b-fuil a croide cruaid, craintiosta leis an olc. — Impius cum in profundum venerit peccatorum contemnit (Prov. xviii., 3.) Ni mo an riactanas a ta orainn an lá tionscaint go mait ’na criocnugad mar a g-ceadna. “Tognid bur lama cum Dé gac oidce,” deir an rig, Naoih Í)áibid, “ agus altuigid leis a tiodlaca .” — In noctibus extollite manus vestras in sancta, et henedicite Bominum (Psal. 133, 2.) Amail agus mar déirfad, ta na tiodlaca beir Dia duit, a dume, do-áirigte, do-innste. Ni b-fuil mdimemt do do saogal, nac n-deanann Dia trocaire nuad ort. Spreagann se air uairiB do coinsias le n-a grasa, miiscluigeann se deag- smuainte ann do croide, cumduigeann tu 6 gac baogal, beir fad saogail agus rao na aitrige duit, le do beata mi-ri- galta do leasugad. Ca b-fuil, a cáirde, adbar buideacais mar siad so ? Ca b-fuil nid anns an doinan is mf-nádurda ’na dearmad a deanad diobta ? — In noctibus extollite manus vestras, &c. Ann aiih-deoin ciiram ngeacta agus náisiuin a belt air Dáibid, ann aim-deoin gac trioblóid agus gac gnatugad saogalta bi ann a ceann, ni leigead oidce tains, air son sin gan urnaige a deanad cum Dé, gan cuntus a buaint de fein, cad s(^ mar caifc se an la : — cia aca rinne se — seirbis do i)ia no do ’n diabal ? Ar peacaig se le n-a teanga aig deanad breug, itiomrad no mionna mor ? Ar peacuig se le n-a sililib le amarc mailiseac ; ar sin se a lama ann nid air .bit toirmeasgta f Ar peacuig se le n-a croide, le feirg no le fuat, le saint no le driiis. An uair a geabad Daibid sal peacaid air bit air anam, beiread agaid air í)ia gan liioill leis an urnaige, cuiread se sguab na áitrige air SERMONS OF THE 219 and ambuslies that Lucifer and his legions have laid for the purpose of destroying us, you never would cease asking God to deliver you from them. The person who prays not, and makes it not a practice, leaves one to understand that he cares not for his soul ; that he is hardened in heart and obdurate in iniquity. — Prov. 18, 3. The necessity on our part for commencing the day well, is not greater than for ending it well ; and King David tells us to praise God at the close of the day ; — “Each night raise up your hands to God,” says holy King David, “and praise Him for his benefits.” — Psalm cxxxiii. As if he had said : the gifts that God confers on^you, 0 man, are inestimable and inexpressible. There is not a moment of your life in which God renews not His mercy to you ; He stirs up your conscience betimes with His divine graces ; He awakens pious thoughts in your heart ; He protects you from all danger ; He gives you length of days, and a period of repentance for the amendment of your ill-regulated life. Where, my friends, can there be found causes of thanksgiving equal to these ? Where in the world is there anything more un- natural than to omit thanks for them ? Notwithstanding that David had the care of a king- dom and nations — notwithstanding every kind of trouble and worldly pursuit in which he was involved, still he never let for all that a night pass without offering his prayers to God, without bringing himself to an account how he spent the day, and without asking himself whether he had done service for God, or for the devil ? Did he sin with his tongue by telling lies, by detraction, or by swearing ? Did he sin with his eyes by wanton glances ? Did he stretch his hand to anything forbidden ? Did he sin with his heart by anger, or by hatred, by covetousness, or by lust ? When David found any stain of sin upon his soul, he was wont to have recourse to God immediately by prayer ; he used to apply the brush of penance to his conscience ; he then wiped from it 220 MOST BEV. DB. OALLAGHEB. a coinsias, dibread as gac oidce gac brugdar, agus gac salacar do cruinnmgead se an la sin . — Meditatus sum in node cum corde meo, et sco^ébam spiritum meum {Bsal. xvii 7.) Act an raib cuing no ualac air leit air í)aibid an cuntas so a bu amt de fein gac oidce, act oiread linn-ne, a cairde ? Ni raib gan arhrus. Ta an luac-saotair ceadna againn le fagail, mar ta an glbir sioruid, má gmdmuid urnaige agus aitrige mar rinne se-san ; agus ni b-fuil imeact againn 6 piantaib Ifrinn ma gnidmuid faillig annta. Ni lia peacad marbta bideas air an anam, dul ann leaba ddinn ’ná diabal a luideas linn ; agus dearcad gac aon, cad se olcas an ceile leaba a togas se db fein. Act air ceiste nac b-fuil fios agat, a Criostaid, cad se mar IS coir Dia do guide lonnos go m-beidead a urnaige tair- beac, beirfaid mise solus duit air, reir mar geallas, anns an dura punc. An dára punc — Se is urnaige ann, a Criostaid, árdugad na intinne cum Dé ; molad a beiramuid Do ann a tiodla- caib, agus gearan gnidmuid leis air gac nid bideas d’ easba orainn — Oratio est elevatlo mentis in Deum. Is fbidir an urnaige so a deanad air dá mod ; mar ta go fuar, spadánta, ceatraideac, no go ddractac, craibeac. An te a gnid ur- naige fuar, falsa, nac se slánugad anama is mb bideas air ’aire, act aig larraid tairbe saogalta, aig am-bideann an croide a d-taob, agus an beul a d-taob eile; a inntinn a d-taob, agus an toil a d-taob eile; nac smuaineann air liibrdact De, ’nuair a bideann se aig guide, no gur le Dia a bideann se aig caint ; ni urnaige gnid se act magad air Dia. Ma deir sb earn briatar gan aire, gan craibeact, ni b-fuig se torad no bisteact o Dia orta ; agus má geib is air ole leis. Ma beir Dia do an buntáiste no an saidbreas saogalta, a ta se d’ larraid, is lonnos go g-cuingeocad uaide saidbreas na ngrása nac fiu se d’ fagail. JSTaoih Ajbistin is ugdar duinn SERMONS OF THE 221 every night each stain and each spot which he may have contracted that day. But, my friends, was any particular duty or obligation resting on David to bring himself to this account more than there is on us ? Without doubt there was not. We have the same reward to get, which is eternal glory, if we offer prayers and do penance as he did j and we canpot pass fully by the torments of hell if we overlook these duties. There is not a mortal sin resting upon our souls when going to bed, but there is a devil that lies along with us ! Let each person then who is thus situated, see what a hideous companion he selects to be his bed-fellow ! But to the question, Christians, that you do not understand how God is to be implored, to the end that prayer may be of profit, I shall now give you some knowledge, as I had promised to do, in the second point. Second part. — Christians, prayer is a raising up of the mind to God, a thanksgiving which we render him for all his gifts ; and an humble petition which we make to him for everything that we stand in need of. This prayer may be made in one of two ways. First — With carelessness, indolence and repugnance ; second — with attention, with piety and perseverence. He who prays in a lukewarm and slothful manner, who is not concerned for the salvation of his soul, but simply wishes for worldly benefits ; he whose heart is inclined one way and his mouth another ; the mind here ; the will there ; he who does not think of the presence or majesty of God to whom he is praying, or that it is to God he is speaking, is not praying to, but merely mocking God. If he utter a confused collection of words, without atten- tion or devotion, he will get no benefit nor profitable hearing from God ; and if he do, so much the worse for him. If God grants him the advantage, or the temporal wealth for which he is seeking, it is in order to keep from him the riches of divine grace, of which he is not worthy. St. Augustin is my author for this truth. “ God,” says 222 MOST BEY. DB. GALLAGEEB, leis an firinne so. “ Éeir Dia dilinn,” deir se, air uairiB an nid larramuid, air olo linn agus dmltuigeann se sin air uairiB eile air mait linn. — Multa Deus concedit Irakis quoQ negaret propitius (^Serm. 53.) Be verlis Domini. An mnintir a gnid urnaige go craiBeac, dutractac aig a m-bideann a g-croidte agus a d-teangta ann aonfeact a molad De ; nac n-iarrann act na neite a racfas a d-tairbe d’ a n-anam ; agus má larrann neite saogalta, go b-fagann siad siad faoi toil De ; a bideas co buideac so gan fagail a’s da ngeabfad siad. Ba si vis dare, et in hac vita quod quoero. So an muintir a gnid an urnaige mar is cóiv ; so an ihuintir a geabas torad agus éisteact air a nguide j geabas cobair ann am an leat-troim, agus fuascailt o Dia ann gac gab. Ni se amain go b-fuil d’ fiacaib air gac duine a dul a g-ceann urnaige go riagalta, cráibeac, act fós is éigin do creideam aig a m-beid grad De agus deag-obair ann aice. Da m-beidead creideam an t-saogail agat, deir an t-Apstol San Sdamus, muna m-beid deag-gnioiiiarta ann aice ni b-£uil ann act creideam marb. Fides sÍ72s operibiis mortua est. Ni b-fuil act creideam gan tairbe, gan tabact ann. Ni mur duit nid éigin a belt agat os cionn na n-diabal, a creideas agus a criotnuigeas a láim diogaltaig Dé. — De- mones credunt et contremescunt (Jao. ii., 19^. Ni sé sin le rad go b-fuil d’ fiacaib ort a beit coidce air staid na ngrása ’n uair a teid tu a g-ceann urnaige ; act se tuigim leis, gur cóir duit air a loigiod, má ta tu a staid peacaid, aitreacas beit ort, agus run do beit agat do beata a leasugad. Muna raib tu de ’n intinn so aig dul a g-ceann urnaige cad se mar sileas tu go n-deanfad Dia nid air bit reir do tola-sa gan tusa deanad nid air bit rbás d’ fágail, agus along do bat ad a g-cuan an bais tar éis a teact síbáilte go d-ti sin. Is feidir mar an g-ceadna, do ’n peacac is mo air bit, tiontugad air í)ia le linn a bais agus se £éin a slánugad mar d’ eirig do gaduid na laiiiie deise. Ann airn-deoin so, beir greim air, a Criostaid, do former beid an bis mar an m-beata, — Qa'ilis vita, finis ita. As cad cuige ? A ti, go b-£uil an bis agus an beata co gaolinar sin go b-£reagrann a cede air mod mi bideann an beata ole beid an bis ole, agus mi bideann an beata mait beid an bis mait. D’ á brig sin cia b’ se le mian £ios a belt cad se an bis do geab£as se, ni b-£uil aige act dearcad air a beata agus bidead se cinnte go mor-iiior go m-beid a bás mar a beata. — Ei non bonus est finis cui sem- per malafuerit v 'ta ; et contmrio vero, qui bene vixerit, bene moriiur (D. Hieronim ad Damasum,) Má siubalaim ameasg sgiile an báis, ni baogal dam ole ar Daibid an Kig. — Si ambulavero in medio umbrae mortis, non timebo mala (Psal. xxii., 4.) Act cad se is sgiile do ’n bis, a ciirde ? A ta an beata, deir San Aibistin — In medio umbree mortis, id est, in medio Imjiis vitae, quie est umbra mortis. Bideann an sgiile co cosainail sin leis an nid d' ar sgiile se, air mod nac m-bideann sgiile an capaill aig an duine, no sgiile an duine aig an g-capall. Mar an g-ceadna do ’n bis agus do ’n beata. Agus d’a brig sin mi bideann an beata naoiiita, riagalta, beid an bis beannuigte, taitneamac ; agus mi bideann an beata malluigte beid an bis damanta, diabaltac. — Ei non bonus est finis, &c. Teagasguigeann an t-Apstol Pol go soileur an firinne so aig cur beata an duine a g-cosamlact le aimsir na cur- aideacta, agus an biis le aimsir na buana, aig rad go SERMONS OF THE 303 of death, although he had escaped with safety until then; and the greatest sinner may return to God at the time of his death, and be saved, as happened to the penitent thief ; yet, most commonly, mark these words, Christians, most commonly, as a man lives, so shall he die. And why so ? Because life and death bear such connexion, and answer each other so well, that if the life is good, the death too will be good ; and if the life is bad, the death also will be bad. Therefore, whoever would wish to know what death he shall get, has no more to do than look to his life. God does not usually work miracles. “ If I walk among the shades of death, I fear no evil,” says king David. But what shadow has death, my brethren ? It is the life, says St. Augustin. The shadow so much resembles the substance, that it presents no other outline than that of the substance. So it is with death and life ; and therefore if the life is holy and upright, the death will be blessed and delightful ; and if your life is wicked and unruly, your death will be damnable and diabolical. The apostle St; Paul clearly demonstrates this truth, by comparing the life of man with sowing time, and his death with reaping time, by saying, a person would reap at his death whatever he sowed during his life. Well, now, in order that a man should reap w^heat, he must sow wheat. In like manner, Christians, whoever SOW’S in his lifetime the seed of pride, covetousness, thievery, animosity, auger, swearing, and detraction, shall reap at his death the fruit of malediction and iniquity, which is the eternal torments of hell. In like manner, whoever sows in his lifetime the seed of humilty, of patience, and of charity, will certainly reap at his death the fruit of virtue and of benediction, w’hich are the glory and happiness of heaven. This doctrine which the apostle St. Paul teaches, the other apostles too have taught, not by words only, but by 304 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. m-bamfaid an duine le linn a bars gac ar cuir se le linn a beo. — Quce seminaverit homo hcec et metet (Gal. vi., 7.) lonnds go m-bainfad duine cruitneact, is cóir dó cruitneact do cur — Quae enim seminaverit. Ac. Mar an g-ceadna, a Criostaid, an te a cuireas air fead a beat a, siol an uabair, na sainte, na gaduideacta, an fuata, na feirge, na mionna mor, agus an itiomraid, bainfaid se, le linn a bais, torad na mallact agus na loot, mar ta pianta sioruid Ifrmn. Air an mod ceadna, an te cuireas le linn a bit siol na uiii- alacta, na foigide, agus na cartanacta, bamfaid se le linn a báis torad na subáilce agus na m-beannact, mar tá glóir agus aoibneas Flaiteamnais. — Quae seminaverit^ Ac. An Migean so do teagasguig an t-Apstol Pol teagas- guigeann mar an g-ceadna na Apstoil eile, ni amain le briatraib, act fos le gmoiii agus sompla ; agus d’á druim so gaireann San Ílárius sioladoirid na sioruidea;ta orra — Satores oeternitatis. B’ anann oidce agus la do na Ápstoil aig imeact air fead an domain aig sior-gul agus aig siol-cur. — Euntesibant etflehant, mittentes semina sua (Psal. cxxv., 6.) Act cad cuige na Apstoil a beit aig sior-gul mar so ? Oc faraor, nid nac n-deananii tu-sa, a ta aig caoinead a b-peacaid. Cad ké an siol do cuireann siad ? A ta siol an creidim, aig teagasg an t-Soisgeuil ; siol na cartanacta, na úrnaige, an trosgaid, agus gac subailce bi riactanac aca fein, no ann slanuigte an pobuil. Agus de brig gur cuiradar le Imn a m-beo siol na ngrasa agus na m-bean- nact, bainadar le linn a m-báis fogmar na gluire a b-Flai- teamnas. — Venientes autemvenient cum exidlatione portan- tes manipulos suos (Psal. cxxv., 7.) Scriobann loannes Torres, air fealsanac airid do cuaid cum aonaig le asal do ceannact ; agus tar ^is a belt aig cuartugad anonn agus anall, d’ fiafruig dglac de fo deire. SERMONS OF THE 305 example, St. Hilary styles the apostles, the husbandmen of eternity. They were like and in succession — each day and night — going through the world, constantly weep- ing and constantly sowing. — Psalm, xxv. 6. But why were these apostles thus continually weeping ? Alas ! doing what you do not — bewailing their sins. Then, what seed have they sowed ? The seed of faith, by teaching the Gospel, the seed of charity, of prayer, of fasting, and of all other virtues that were necessary for themselves, or for the people’s salvation; and, consequently as they have sowed in their lifetime the seed of graca and of blessings, they have reaped at their death the harvest of eternal glory in heaven . — Venientes antem venient cum exultatione portantes manipidos suos — Ps. cxxxv. 7. John Torres, writes regarding a certain philosopher who went on one occasion to a fair to buy a donkey. After searching here and there, on all sides, to find one suitable, he did not succeed. At length, a certain young man asked him what was he looking for. “ I am,” said he “ looking for a suitable ass.” “Are there not numbers of them for sale, just before your eyes,” said the youth. “It is not animals of the kind that are here I want,” said the philosopher, “ but those asses that have splendid sparkling tails such as peacocks present.” “You are mad,” said the young man. “ I assure you, sir, it is not I who am mad, but you and others like you who are in pursuit of sin, and expect that it will have in its tail, — that is in death a beauteous end like the peacock’s tail, while in life, and during your term of existence, you live like asses, beastly and brutish ly.” My brethren, generally speaking, the sinners of these times vainly expect their iniquitous life to be crowned with a happy death. But what can be greater madness, 30G BIO ST BEV. DB. GALLAGHER. cad se a bi se larraid. “ A ta me aig larraid asail,” ar se. “Nac sin go leor diob os do coihair ?” ar an t-uglac. “ Ni se leitid so a tá me larraid,” ar an fealsanac, ajt asal air a m-beid larball breig, scianiaé na peacjige.” Air mire, a ta tu deir an t-uglac. Ni me a ta air mire, ar an fealsanac act sibse na peacaig le'r mian larball dealrac na peacuige, mar a ta deág-bás a belt air bur m-beata, bruidaáiail, liii-riagalta. Agus ci b-fuil mire air bit is mo do dame ^na saoilead go ngeab- faii3 se tiiarastal gan a tuillead, go m-bain£aid se cruitneact na ngTdsa le linn a bais, nár cuir riaiii act cogal na loct le linn a bit ; go ngeabfaid se bis mait tar eis a beit riaiii aim a peacac ? Mi geabfaid is breugac Naoih Pol, a dearbuigeas duinn go m-beid an bis riir na beata — Quo- rum Jinis erit secundum opera eorum (2 Cor. xi., 15). Mar sin, gac aon le ’r mian deag-crioc do cur air a beata, glaca3 se coiiiairle Naoiiii Aibistm — Gonscende tribunal mentis tuoe^ et esto judex. Teid asteac go seomra d’ anama, giir do coinsias ann cuntuis, agus breatnuig cad se mar d’ lomiuir tu tu féin ann d’ bige, a mead am d’ aoise, agus ann d’ ársuideact. An raib tu uiiial do dlige Db, no tataideac air na Sacramuinte ; ar leig tu faillige ann d’ urnaige, no anus an Aifrionn ; a n-deirnaid tu eagciir ; agus ma rinne, an d-tug tu sisad anns an doluig ? Ann aon local ar lomúuir tu tu fern mar is coir do criostaid, d-taob De agus na coiiiarsan ? — Gonscende tribunal mentis iuce. ]\Ta fágann tu amac go raib do beata ole, agus go b-fuil aiiila a latair, agus nac n-doirnaid tu riaiii aitrige no leor-gnioiii, bi cmnte lin-dearbta, deir an doctiir oirdeirc San Bonabmtear, go m-beid do bas damanta, malluigte, agus gur b’ se Ifrionn deire do edrsa — Hoc teneo, hoc verum puto, quod ei non bonus finis erit, cui semper mala fuerit vita (JJe Contem. Soeculi). Do cuir an t-Impire cuiiiactaé, Caesar Agustus, foslong- port le catair Perdsium, agus tar dis a gabalta le neart, cionn nir uiiiluig an baile do air an g-ceud gáirm, tug ordugad geinearailte, gac a raib ’s an m-baile so do cur SERMONS OF THE 307 than for a man to think to receive a reward undeservedly — that he should reap the wheat of divine grace at his death, who never sowed but the tares of iniquity in his lifetime — and that he should obtain a good death, after having been always a sinner ? If he do, the apostle St, Paul must have erred in assuring ns, that onr end will be according to our lives. — 2 Cor. xi. 15. Therefore, every one who would desire to have a happy conclusion to his life, let him be advised by St. Augustin: “Enter into the closet of thy soul, call thy conscience to an account, and recollect how you have conducted yourself in your youth, in your manhood, and in your old age ; have you been obedient to the law of God, or have you frequented the Sacraments ? have you neglected prayer and Mass ? have you injured your neighbour in his repu- tation or his property ? and if you have done so, then, have you repaired the injury ? In a word, have you con- ducted yourself as a Christian ought to have done, towards God or your neighbour ? If you find out that your life has been bad, and that it is at present bad, and that you have done neither penance nor made satisfaction “ be fully convinced” (says the great St. Bonaventure), that your death will be damnable and accursed, and that hell will be the end of your career.” — Hoc tcneo, hoc verum puto, quod ei non bonus finis erit cui semper mala fuei'it vita (Be contemp Soecidi). The powerful emperor Augustus Caesar having laid siege to the city of Perusium, and made the citizens his captives, gave general orders to put all who were in the town to death, for not having obeyed his first summons to surrender. All the townspeople, men and women, came before him, some of them with presents of great 338 MOST REV. DR. G ALL AGEE R. ann biis — Mot'iendum est. Tainic mumfcir an baile, fir agus mná, látair an Impire so, cuid diob le toirbearta^ mór-luacmar, an caid eile aig sgartad agus aig gair, gul agus a’ caoinead, aig larraid ceatramna — a n-anam do spáráil. Ni raiB gar ann ; nó atrugad de freagrad act go g-caitfad siad uile bas d’ fagail — MoHendum est. Maisead, a cáirde, na briatra ceadna a duBairt an t-Im- pire so, lé mnintir Perusium, deirim-se liB-se an dm mar teactaire <5 Dia go d-tug Ard-Impire domain breit bais ann Bur n-agaid, agus nac B-fuil imeact aig neac d’a maireann <5 ’n m-breifc so. An rig, an prionsa, an boct, agus an saidBir, an t-eagluiseac agus an tuata, caitfaid uile bás d’ fagail — Moriendum est: O maisead, a peacaig, <5 ’s nid cinnte an bas, cad as nac Btiurann tu do Beata, réir dlige De, mar duine aig a m-beidead siiil lé bás, uair éigin ? — Si es mortalis vive et mortalis. Cad as a B-fuil tu aig dul air d’ agaid, agus aig cranrugad anns na loctaiB, amail a’s nac m-beidead Dia suas, no Ifnonn síos, no súil le bás uair éigin agat ? — Vive ut mortalis. Tiontuig ort fein, a criostaid, agus taBair raBa minic duit fein, aig rad briatra an Impire sád caitfaid me bás d’ fagail — Moriendum est. Má Beir cruatan an t-saogail, no imeartas an DiaBail ort cuid na cothursan do santugad, abair leat fáin go croda, Beasmac, ni santócad nid do deanfas diogBail do m’ anam, agus gan fios agam cia ’n fad mo teurma air an t-saogal —Moriendum est. Má tairgeann do colann do claonad ann meisge, ann driíise, no ann feirge, meaihruig na briatra siíd ann d’ intinn, “ caitfaid mé bás d’ fagail” agua mucfaid siad teas na ántola — Moriendum est. Má tair- geann an droc-cuideact le n-a n-impige, no le n-a n-droc- Bompla, do tarraing cum an peacaid, abair go láidir, seas- mac, ní racfaid me a d-treus air í)ia, agus gan fios agam cia ’n fad uaim lá an cuntuis — Moriendum est. Má cui- reann an Spiorad Naom an deág-smuainead ann do croide aisíoc do deanad a g-cuid na comursan, buaid do Breifc air SERMONS OF TEE 30D Talue, others weeping and lamenting, begging of him to spare their lives. It was all useless ; they got no other answer but that they should all die ; Moriendum est. Then, my brethren, the same words which this emperor said to the people of Perusium, I, as a messenger from God, say unto you this day ; that the Supreme Emperor of the whole world has pronounced the sentence of death against you, and that no one living can escape that sentence : the king, the prince, the rich and the poor, the ecclesiastic and the secular, all must die. O, then sinner ! as death is so inevitable and certain, why do you not regulate your life according to the law of God, as one who would expect death at a certain time ? — Si es mortalis vive ut mortalis. Why do you obstinately persevere in your iniquities, as if God was not above you, nor hell beneath you, nor an expectation of death coming at any time ? — Vive ut mortalis. Return to yourself, O Christian, and give yourself continual warning, by repeating the words of the emperor, “I must die,” Monendum est. If worldly hardship, or the wiles of the devil, should induce you to covet your neighbour’s property, boldly say to yourself, “I will not covet, I will not injure my soul, not knowing how long my stay is in the world.” — Moriendum est. If your body attempts to induce you to drunkenness, to lewdness, or to anger, utter these words in your mind, “ I must die,” — and it will extinguish all concupiscence. — Moriendum est. If bad company, by their entreaties or ill example, attempt to draw you to sin, resolutely say : “ I will not revolt against God, not knowing how soon the accounting day may come.” — Moriendum est. If the Holy Ghost should suggest these pious thoughts to your heart, to restore your neigh hour’s 310 MOST líEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. gaó leanán peacaid d’a B-£nil ta tugta, an aifrige do deanaS, freagair Se gan moill, de Brig, go m-b’ feidir gur b’ se sin an raBa deigeanaú do Bcirfaid duit — Mo- riendum est. Criocndcaid me an coihrad so leis an m-b is daman ta do fuair prions a na Salerno, do reir mar do scrjoB an t-Atair foglamta, Damianus, air. Do conairc an prionsa so lasaraca neam-gnataca aig éirig as cnoc Etna, agas duBairt se leis an liiuintir do Bi ann a tiomcioll, is gearr go B-fuig duine cumactac, eigin, bas. Do Bi an prionsa so anns an am ceadnabaitte ab-peacad na colna,agus tugta do ’n lomad loot. An uair do tainic an oidce, do cuaid se codlad le n-a mnaoi luide agus an oidce ceadna gan fiu an tinnis féin de raBa, do fuair se bas obann. 0, DuiB-eagain Breite Dé ! An uair a saoil agus iheas an prionsa sild gur cuig duine eile do tainic an raBa so agus nac cuige fern, is ann sin do tug an Bas an lon- saig diBfeirgeac, diogBálac air. Feucaid le truaig, a cairde, air an staid ann a B-fuair se se. Cia deirfad leis, an uair a cuaid se aig luigead, nac n-éireocad se slan ? Cia déir- fad leis go racfad se, ann aon punc amáin d ’n leaba go ifrionn ? Maisead, cia aig a B-fuil fios nac n-direocad an nid ceadna do dume eigin d’ a B-£uil ann so, a latair ? An B-£uil leus no teurma airid aig aon duine agaiB air anam act oiread leis an b-prionsa sud ? Ni B-£uil gan amras ; agus d’ a Brig sin, mar mian liB an bas a breit faill oraiB, mar rinne leis-san, bidid go cinnte olmuigte faoi coinair an Bais. Agus muna mian liB a Beit rann- páirteac a b-pianta sioruid Ifrinn, ann a B-£uil an prionsa mi-seuTiniar sud, na codlaid agus leanan peacaid £o Bur g-coinsias. ^nn aon focal, a criostaid, táir a staid pea- caid, no ni B-£uilir. Má táir fiafruigim di'ot, an se do toil, bás d’ fagail ann. Deirfaid tu, gaii ariiras, nac se ; SERMONS OF THE 3L1 property, to overcome every habitual sin to which you are addicted, to do penance, answer him, ‘‘ I will do so immediately ; because this may be the last admonition he ever will give me.” I shall finish my discourse with an account of the dreadful deatJi of the prince of Salerno, according as the learned doctor St. Damian has written of him. The prince saw unusual and extraordinary flames rising out of Mount Etna, and said to those who were around him, “ Some potent personage will shortly die.” He had been at the same time addicted to carnal sins, and subject to enormous iniquities. When night came on, he went to bed with his concubine, and the same night, without being fore- warned by- sickness, he died suddenly. 0 ! the depths of the judgments of God. When that prince thought and judged it was to some other person and not to him- self this warning had come, then it was that death made the ruinous attack upon him. Behold, with pity, my brethren, on the sad state death found him in ! Who would say of him at his going to bed, that he would not rise in health ; who would say of him that he would go in one instant from his bed to hell ! Then who can tell but the like fate may happen to some of you ? Has any one of you a lease or term of life better than that prince had had ? Certainly not : and, therefore, if you do not wish to be taken off your guard as he was, be ye constantly prepared for death ; if you do not choose to have a share of the eternal torments of hell, like that unfortunate prince, do not sleep with any habitual sin resting on your conscience. In a word, Christians, you are in the state of mortal sin, or you are not ; if you are, I ask you is it your will to die in it ? You will certainly tell me it is not. What then, why do you desire to live in a 312 MOST BEV. DB. OÁLLAOHEB. maisead cad eile ? Cad fat ar miau leat a belt beo ’3 an &taid, ann uár mait leat bis d’ fagail ? Ni cinnte Dia a belt suas, ’na gur b’ selfrionn is loistin do gac a on ageab fias air staid peacaid marbta. Ta se dearbta go b-fuig tusa bis ; a ta se neam-dearbta cia ’n iit, an mod, no an uair a geabfair se. Mar sin, ’n uair nac b-£uil aon uair saor agat 6 contabairt, dian mait de ’n uair a ta litair agat, inn a b-fuil an trucaire neariida ’g a fariil fein ort. Act ni b-fuil trocaire no maiteaninas le fagail gan an aitrige ; d’ a brig sia sell do deora, agus buail d’ net, bidead f uat agus grim agat air an b-peacad j agus abair na briatra so : — 0, Tigearna Dia, a Slanuigteoir, agus a Crutuigteoir, graduigim tu os cionn gac nid : ta doilgios orm 6 croide fa fearg a cur ort, agus geallaim duit go seas- mac le congnam do grisa gan fearg a cur ort 6 so suas, agus leor-gnioiii do deanad anns na oilc do rinneas. Mait a Tigearna, mait do ’n peacac boct so — Bemdiotio Dei omnipotentisj (fee. — Amen. SEBMONS OF THE 313 slate in which you would not wish to die ? As surely as God is above you, so surely is hell the abode of every one who dies in the state of mortal sin. It is certain that you will die ; the place, manner, and the time, uncertain ; therefore, as you have no certain hour secure from its danger, make sure of the hour you have at present, in which the Divine Mercy is offered unto you. But as there is neither mercy nor pardon obtained with- out penance, therefore, strike your breast, shed tears, conceive a hatred and an abhorrence for your past sin, and avoid it for the future. Repeat these words : — O Lord God, my Redeemer and Creator, I love you above all things ; I am sorry from my heart for having offended you ; I most firmly purpose with the assistance of your divine grace, never more to offend you, and to make atonement for the evils I have done. Pardon, O Lord, pardon me a poor sinner ! — Benedictio Dei oinnijjotentis . — Amen. AN CUIGMAÍ) SEANMOIR DEUG. ANN A&AIi) NA MIONNA MOR. Ante omnia autem fratres nolite jurare. Os cionn uile nid, a dearBrataireaca, na tugaid mionna móra — Briatra an Spioraid Naoim aig Naom Séamus anns an 5 caib., 12 rann. Beir Criost ur-sgeul duinn aig Naom Mata anns an 13 caib., air fear-tige, a cmr cruitiieact ihait ann itir, agus gur tainic a náihuid air siuBal oidce, agus gur cuir se cogal ameasg na cruitneacta. 'N uair bud liiian le n-a seirBisigib an cogal a piocad agus a diBirt asti, crois se orta sin do dean ad, go d-tigead lá an fogihair, act ann sin d’ larr orta beartinid a deanad de ’n cogal, agus a losgad — Alligaie fasciculos ad comlurendum (^Matt. xiii., 30.) Se cialluigeas, a cáirde, an fear-tige so an t-Soisgeuil, Dia uile-cumactac ; se cialluigeas an cruitneact so, do cuir se ann itir na Eaglaise, ni se amáin na daoine deag-Bea- taca, cneasta, act fós gac slige agus gac meodan éifeactac do tug Se duinn 1’ agaid ar slánuigte, mar ta lomadamlact na ngrása, na suBáilce, agus na sacramuinte. Se ciallui- geas an námuid slid a tainic air siuBal oidce, agus a cuir an cogal ameasg na cruitneacta, an DiaBal, a cuireas anns an eaglais ni se ariiám na droc-daoine droc-Beataca, act fos na peacaid, na duBáilcid, agus na locta — Venit autem inU micus ejus et super seminavit zimnia in medio tritici {Matt, xiii., c. 25), SERMON XY. AGAINST STYEARING. Ante omnia autemfratres noUte jurare. ^^Ahove all things, my brethren, swear noU’ — St. James, v. 12. Jesus Christ, in the thirteenth chapter of St. Matthew, tells us a pretty parable relating to a householder who sowed good wheat in his field, and that the enemy came by night and sowed tares among the wheat. When the servants were about to pick up the tares, and to banish them from the wheat, he forbade them to do so till the harvest day should come, and that then they might make bundles of the tares and burn them — Alligate ea infacimlos ad comhurendum. The householder, mentioned in the Gospel, my brethren, signifies the Almighty God. The wheat he sowed in the field of the Church, signifies not only the elect and the righteous, but also all efficacious ways and means which He has given us towards our salvation, such as an abundance of graces, virtuous practices, and the Sacraments. The enemy that came by night and sowed tares among the wheat, is the devil, that sows among the members of the Church, not only men of wicked and vile lives, but also sin, and its practice, vices and iniquities — Venit autem inimicu^ ejus, et super seminavit zizania in medio tritici . — Matt. xiii. 25. 316 MOST REV. DR. GALLAGEER. Oc, a cairde, cad se feaBas na cruitneacta do cuir losa Criost arm Bur measg-sa ! Cad se Iract meodain ^ifeactac a tug se daoiB 1’ agaid Bur slánuigte ; cia riieud uair do spreag se Bur g-comsias le n-a grasa, na peacaid do seac- nugad, an aitrige agus an urnaige do deanad, an faoisi- dion do tatugad, agus Gorp Criost do glacad ! Act, mo mile truaige ! cad se liact uair do tig an naihuid, an DiaBal, agus a cuireas se cogal an peacaid ann Bur measg. Agus ma cuir se riaiii an cogal so, se liieasaim 6 tiis an t-saogail go d-ti anois n’ar B’ feidir leis a cur nios minice, no nios lomadamla ’na air an uair so. Air an adBar ann am air bit do tainic a riam, ar B’ feidir leis na locta a Beit nios lomadamla, na duBáilcid nios coitceanna, na peacaid nios madramla ’na air an uair so ? — Et quooiiani abundavit imquitas, refrigescet cliaritas multorum, &c., (Matt, xxiv., 12 ). Act ameasg na b-peacad do cuireas an diaBal eadrainn, ta aon peacad aiiiain ann 6 nac B-£ml dg no sean, nasal no iseal, saor, mar ta peacad na mionna mdr. So se an peacad a damnuigeas na milte anam, agus a tarraingeas siad go Ifrionn. So se an peacad a sluigeas na leinB ann aoinfeact leis an g-cic ; is luaite a Bideas fios aca a n-anam a taBairt do ’n DiaBal ’na do Dia, agus ’na siad fein do coisreacan. A ta beul gac duine co deanta agus co cleac- tac sin air mionna mdra air an uair so, air niod nac d-tig leo sgeul d’ inseact, no focal sugraid do rad gan mionna mdra ; nac d-tig leo ceist a cur,- no freagrad a taBairt, no gne gnatuigte air Bit do deanad gan DiaBal no deaihan, droc-ite no droc-atcuinge, a Beit air a tus no air a deire. Ni B-iuil duine ann anois is coriisanta agus is fearariila ’na an te is mo do gnid diamaslugad air Dia, agus mallu- gad air fein. ISTi B-fuil peacad air bit eile do gnid an duine nac m-bideann náire no scat air faoi n-a deanad go SERMONS OF THE 317 O my friends, how excellent is the wheat that Jesus Christ has sowed amongst you ; how many efficacious means has he given you for your salvation ; how often has he excited your conscience with his divine grace to avoid sin, to practice prayer, and to perform penance, to frequent confession, and to receive the most sacred body of Christ. But 0, how often does the enemy, the devil, come and sow the tares of sin amongst you ! But if ever he has sowed these tares, I suppose that from the beginning of the world to the present time it was not possible for him to sow them more frequently and abundantly than he has done at present ; because there never was a time when iniquity more abounded, vice was more frequent, or sin more abominable than at present : “ Since iniquity hath abounded, the charity of many shall wax cold” — Et quoniam ahunclavit iniquitas, refrigescet caritas muHorum — Matt. xxiv. 12. But among all the sins which the devil sows amongst us, there is one sin that neither young or old, rich nor poor are free from, which is the abominable sin of swear- ing. This is the sin that damns millions of souls, and draws them to hell. This is the sin which the infants imbibe with the mother’s milk. They sooner know how to give their souls to the devil than to God, or than know how to bless themselves. The mouths of the most people now- a-days are so habituated to, and so fashioned at swear- ing, that they cannot tell a story or speak in jest with- out an oath ; they cannot ask a question, or give an answer, or transact any sort of business without mention- ing the devil or some demon, pour forth a curse or an imprecation at the beginning or ending of each sentence. There is no person now deemed more clever or manly than the man who blasphemes God, and utters impreca- tions againsi himself. There is no other sin which a person commits, openly or publicly, that he is not ashamed of except this sin. You would imagine that it is to him 318 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGEEB. foscailte act an peacad so. Act a measfa go B-fuil ondir d(5, no luac-saotair le fagail aige, cionn aitis agus masla do taBairt do Diaj gac uair de ’n 1(5 ? A ta, gan amrus, luac-saotair le fagail aige ; act se an luac-saotair se, an teanga ihalluigte sud do BiSeas aig maslugad De, a Beit ’g á dotad agus ’g á losgad a m-borb teinte Ifrinn — Alligate Zizanitu infasciculos ad comburendum &c^ Maisead, 6 ’s peacad na mionna m(5ra, a tá co lomada- mail agus co diogBalac so, is mian liom-sa an diu tuag an t-Soisgéil do cur air freimeaca an crainn malluigte so na mionna m(5r, mar siiil go d-tiocf ad liom a dibirt as gáirdín na Eaglaise — nid a tairgfeas me do deanad, tar eis mo comrad do roinn an a dá punc. A ta torad an crainn so na mionna m(5r, ole, de Brig go B-fuil se peacamail — sin an ceud punc. A ta se ole, de Brig go d-tarraingeann se diogaltas De air an muintir Bideas tugta do — sin an dara punc. Act de Brig gur crann se so do sgar a geuga co farsaing sin, agus a cuir a freiinea(iia co daingean sin a g-croidte na n-daoine, air mod gur le m(5r-cuinact J)é amám, IS féidir a tarraing ; maisead, mar siiil go roinn- fad Sé an cumact so liom-sa an dm, cum an crann so do diBirt, tugamuid agaid air Fein, le eidirguide na Maigidine Muire, aig rad — Se do Beata, a Muire. An ceud punc — féidir, a Criostai3, da m-beidead fios aig na daoine cad se an nid an peacad, no an diogBail do tig as, go m-bei3ead siad co leigte ann a deanta agus a ta siad ; agus go sunradac, peacad ann nac B-fuil aoiBneas no tairBe air an doman do ’n duine, mar a ta peacad na mionna m(jr. Se is peacad ann, smuainead, briatar, no gnioiii, do gmdtear ann agaid tola no aitne De — Dictum, SERMONS OF TEE 319 a source of great honour, or that he expects great reward for giving abuse and disrespect to God every hour of the day. He has certainly a reward to receive, but the reward is, that that cursed tongue which he has employed in blaspheming God, shall burn everlastingly and be consumed in the raging fire of hell — Alligate zizania in fasciculos ad comburendiim, &c. Then, since swearing is a sin so frequent and so destructive in itself, I intend this day to set the axe of the Gospel to the root of this wicked tree of uttering oaths, in hopes I may eradicate it out of the garden of the Church. This I shall endeavour to do after dividing the subject into two points: — First, that the fruit of this tree of swearing is evil, because it is sinful ; second, it is evil, because it draws the vengeance of God on those addicted to it. But, because this is a tree that spreads its branches so widely, and has its roots so deeply in the hearts of the people, that it is by the great power of God alone it can be rooted out ; in order that he may lend us some aid to destroy this wicked tree, let us have recourse to him, through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, by repeating in her honor the Hail Mary, &c. First point — Christians, it is not possible, if the people knew what sin is, or the evils that spring from sin, that they would be so ready in committing it ; this sin of all others, in which there is neither pleasure nor benefit to man — the abominable sin of swearing. Sin is committed by any thought, word, or deed, con- trary to the will or law of God. Man sins by thought, when he thinks of a bad deed with a wilful desire of 320 MOST BEV. BE, GALLAGHEB. factum, vel concupitum contra legem Dei. Peacuigeann an duine le smaamead — ’n uair a smuainean se air dro5 nid, agus Beireann se toil ann a deanta dá m-Beidead cuihact aige. “ Cia b’ se, a dearcas air mnaoi,” deir Cnbst aig Mata, “ agus a santuigeas ann a croide cuid a belt aige di, gid nac n-deanann se an gnioih ta se air a son sm ciontac a b-peacad na drdise — Qui viderit mulierem ad comupiscendam earn, jam mcecatus est earn in corde suo {jMatt. V., 28.) Peacuigeann sinn le briatar — le mionnu- gad, le breuga, le cull-caint, agus le itiomrad, le dia-maslu- gad, agus le mionna mora. Agus peacuigeann sinn la gniom — ’n uair do gnid sinn na droc-gnioiiiarta a ta toir- measgta orainn d dlige De, no naddir. Anois da g-cuirfaid oilc an t-saogail air aon Ball, mar ta tinneas agus easlainte, boctaineact agus anrod, pláig agus gort, sganal agus droc-meas, agus gac ole eile, d’ ar f éidir le inntleact duine do tuigsmt no do smuainead, ni fm brod siad, ni B-fuil annta act sugrad a B-farrad an oilc, agus na diogBála do gnid aon peacad marBta aiiiáin do ’n anam. Agus cad cuige ? A tá go d-tiontuigeanu an peacad marBta an duine is áilne agus is onuraige air bit ann a Beit liiriseal, diblig, tarcuisneac. Ann áit a Beit ann a mac aig Dia leis an m-baisdead agus leis na grasa, deanann oigre air Ifrionn, sclaBuid agus mac do ’n diaBal, de. Cailleann se leis an b-peacad, torad na úrnaige, an trosgaid, agus gac deag-gnioiiii eile do gnid sd. Dibrigeann an peacad na grasa, na suBáilcid, agus tiodlacaid an Spioraid Naoim as a anam — Qid peccat in uno midta hona perdit (Ecd. ix., 18.) Tionfcuigeaun an peacad an t-anam d n-a Beit ann a peurla uasal, áluin, rdir lomáig agus cosaiiilacta De, ann a Beit ann a péist fua{- ihar, glonnihar, air cuma agus air cosaiiilact an Dia- Bail. — Argcntnm tuum vcrbuin est in scoriam (^Isaice i., 22). SERMONS OF TEE 321 committing it, if it were in his power. ‘‘ Whoever looketh on a woman, says Christ, in St. Matthew’s Gospel, to lust after her, even although he does not commit the deed, has already committed adultery with her in his heart” — Qui viderit mulierem ad con- cupiscendam earn, jam moechatus est earn in corde suo . — Matt. 5, 28. We sin by words, false oaths, lies, detrac- tion, calumny, blasphemy, and swearing; and we sin by actions, when we commit the evil deeds, which we are forbidden by the law of God and of nature. If all the evils of this life were put together in one heap — sickness, disease, poverty, affliction, plague, famine, scandal, reproach, and every other evil which the mind of man can think of, or invent, still they are all not worth a jot — they are a pleasure — compared to the evil and injury one mortal sin inflicts on the soul. And why so ? Because mortal sin changes the most beautiful and honourable man, into the most abject, despicable, and contemptible being ! Instead of his being a son of God after baptism, and sanctified with grace, he is made an heir of hell, a slave, and a son of the devil. By sin, he loses the benefit of prayer, fasting, and every good work which he performs ; sin banishes all grace, all virtues, and the gifts of the Holy Ghost out of his soul — Qui peccat in ‘uno multa bona perdit — Eccles. ix. 18. Sin changes the soul from being a noble, beautiful pearl, made after the image and likeness of God, to be a hideous, loathsome monster, in the form and image of the devil — Argentum tuum versum est in scoriam : Thy silver is turned into dross ; thy wine is mingled with water. — Isaias. i, 22. 322 most bev. be. gall agree. MarBuigeann an peacad marbta an t-anam agus na ceudfaid, lotann se an tuigse ; ann aon focal, leis an b-pea- cad cailleamuid Dia. 0 duine dona ! do gnid an peacad, ’n nair a cailleaa tu Dia, ni bideann fios do breise agat, Cailleann tu an maiteas sioruid, lonmus na ngrása, óirciste na trócaire, agus gan act diogbail agus easba, réir mar deir an doctdr naomta, San Aibistin, a saidbreas agus a sólás na cruinue, gan Dia — Non est miJii hene sine ie, et omnis copia quce Beus mens non est, egestas est. Sin cugaib anois, a cáirde, solus beag air nim agus air nádiír an peacaid, agus má crutuigim daoib gur peacad na mionna mdra, air n-ddig, beid glonn agus grain agaib oraib fdin, a’s liact uair a’s rinne sib an peacad so ; air n-doig, beid criteagla agus sganrad oraib roiih diogaltas Dd, fa 01 gac uair do masluig sib Sd le bur d-teanga liial- luigte ; ddanfaid sib, air n-ddig, aitreacas air an b-peacad so, agus tairgfaid, sib gan tuitim ann nios md. Act muna n-ddanfaid, ni tig liom a rad gur Criostaidte sib, go b-fuil binn agaib air aoibneas Pártais, no tiollamuid air bit le trdcaire Dd. Cualaid sib ceana, nac b-fuil smuamead, briatar, no gniom, do gnidtear go toilamail ann agaid Dd, nac peacad se, agus go mdr-mdr, gur peacad marbta se. Maisead muna b-fuil na mionna mdra ann agaid dlige Dd, ni fiosac mise air aon nid a ta ann agaid. Beir Criost aig Mata, anns an ciiigmad caibidil, aitne agus ordugad diiinn gan mionna air bit a tabairt — Ego autem dico vohis non jurare omnino (Matt, v., 3é). Agus ni se amáin go d-toirmeasg- tar orainn Dia no Criost a tabairt mar mionna act fds gan an t-aer, no an talam, ceann no cos, cloc no maide, a ta- biirt mar mionna. Agus cad cuige ? A ta gur b’ se Dia do crutuig siad, agus go d-taisbeánann siad a maiteas SERMONS OF TEE 323 Mortal sin kills the soul and the spiritual faculties in their supernatural power ; it wounds the intellect ; in a word, by it we lose God for ever unless we repent. O wretched man who commit sin ! when you lose God, you know not your loss ; you lose the eternal good, the treasure of divine graces, the golden storehouse of mercy ; and all the wealth and happiness in the universe, are want and misery without God, according to St. Augus- tin : — Non est mihi hene sine ie, et omnis copia quae Eeus meus non est, egestas est. Now, my brethren, you have a little insight into the venom and nature of sin ; and if I prove to you that swearing is a sin, will you not detest and abhor your- selves for so frequently committing this sin ? Alarm and teiror before the vengeance of God for so often abusing him with your wicked tongues will hang over you ! You will repent of this sin, and guard against re- lapsing into it for the future ? If not, I cannot say that you are Christians, that you care for the happiness of paradise, or that you care much about obtaining the mercy of God. You have already heard, that every wilful thought, word, or action, contrary to the law of God, is a sin, and very frequently a mortal sin. Why, then, if swearing be not against the law of God, I know not what is. Jesus Christ has commanded us, in the fifth chapter, thirty- fourth verse of St Matthew, “not to swear at all — Ego autem dico vobis non jurare omnino — and he has not only forbidden us to swear by the name of God, or of Jesus Christ, but he has ordered us not to swear by the firmament, nor by the earth, neither by the head nor the foot, neither by stick nor stone. And why» so ? Because it was God that created them, and they show forth his goodness and omnipotence. “ Swear not by heaven, because it is God’s throne ; nor by the earth 324 MOST BEV. DB, GÁLLAOHEB. agus a ni(5r-cumact . — Neque per coelum quia thronus Dei estf neque per terrain^ quia scahellum est pedum ejus (Mait. V., 35.) Oc ! a Tigearna, má ’s cinnte nac B-fuil se ceaduigte againn oiread agus créatur a taBairt mar mionna, cad se éireócas do ’n muintir a deir go dona, dána, dar Dia uile- cumactac, dar losa Criost, agus an lomad mionna mal- luigte eile, nac d-tig liomsa a luad gan criotnugad, agus gruag mo cinn eirig ann a seasad. M’ anam do ’n diaBal agus go m-beirid se leis mé, agus os a cionn so, cluineann tu mile, God damn my soul ! God’s Hood and wounds ! a m-beul na muintire, nac moide go B-fuil nios mó d’ an Beurla aca. An d-tig liB a rad go B-fuil siad so saor 6 peacad, agus ni peacad is luga ’ná dia-maslugad ann agaid mórdacta agus maiteasa Dé ; an d-tig liB a rad nac B-fuil Biad a staid damanta, agus nac se Ifrionn deire a g-ciirsa, muna leasócaid siad a m-beata, agus muna n-deanfaid siad aitreacas laidir anns an droc lísáid so do gnid siad d’ ainm naomta an Tigearna ? — Ego autem dico vohis non jurare omnino (Matt: v., 34). Leanann an t-Apstol, San Seamus, a maigistir, Criost, anns an cuigmad caibidil d’ a litir, ann a g-crosann se air an t-saogal, os cionn gac uile nid, gan mionna air bit a taBairt — Super omnia autem, fratres mei, nolite jurare (James v., 12). Ná lergamuid aon focal de na briatra so faoi lár ; — “ Os cionn gac uile nid,” deir se, “ crosaim oraiB mionna taBairt.” Amail a’s mar deirfad se N”! c6ir daoiB, faoi péin Bur n-damnuigte mionna air bit a taBairt, muna d-taBairfaid riactanas mór oraiB se, agus ann sin féin is éigin daoiB firinne agus ceart a Beit agaiB ” — Juralis in veritate, judicio, justitia (Jer. iv., 2.) Ni B-fuil fios agam-sa, a cairde, cad se Bur meas air raidte an Apstoil, act se saoilim-se, agus l<^ig me an Sean SERMONS OF THE 325 because it is bis footstool.” — Negueper ccelum guia thronus Dei est, negue per terram, quia scahellum est pedum ejus — Matt. V. 35. 0 Lord ! if it be certain that we are not permitted to swear by any creature, what shall become of those who rashly and daringly swear by the name of the Almighty God, and by the name of Jesus Christ, and utter a great number of other impious oaths, that I cannot express without shuddering, and which are sufficient to make the hair of my head stand erect ? They offer their souls to the devil, and pray the demon to snatch them away ; and, moreover, you will hear a thousand oaths and curses, such as damning their souls, and crying : “ God’s blood and wounds,” on the lips of persons that, perhaps, can speak only those words in English. Can you say they are free from sin when they blaspheme the majesty and goodness of God ? Can you say that they are not in a state of damnation, and that hell will not be the end of their career, if they do not reform their lives, and sincerely repent of the abuse they have made of the holy name of the Lord ? — Matt. v. 34. The apostle St. James follows the footsteps of his divine Master, Jesus, in the fifth chapter of his Epistle, where he forbids all mankind to swear at all. Let us not let a word of these sayings pass away in oblivion. “Above all things,” says he “ I forbid you to swear.” As if he would say, you should not, under pain of your con- demnation, swear at all, unless great necessity should require it, and even so, you should have truth, justice, and judgment on your side. 1 know not, my brethren, what you may judge of the sayings of this apostle j but, I think, from what 326 MOST BEV. I)B. GALL AGREE. Tiomna agus an Tiomna Nua3, nár B’ Mdir leis peacad air bit da gráinamlaj mar ta feall no marBugaS, adaltranas no gaduideact, a crosad orainn a m-briatra mbs dutractaige ’ná mar crosann se orainn mionna air bit do taBairt. “ Os cionn gac uile nid,” deir se, “ na tugaid mionna .” — Super omnia nolite jurare. Oc ! Apstoil Naomta, is ann aisge, a ta tu aig caint, agus ni lugde liomsa, is dioihaoin an nid duit a crosad air daoine na áimsire so, mionna mdra do taBairt ; oir ta a m-béil agus a d-teangta co déanta sin air mionna mdra, air mod go measfa nár foglaim siad atrugad de paidir, agus nac raiB atrugad air a n-aire 6 tainic siad as an g-cliaBán act aig taBairt mionna mdr. Ni B-fuil staid no gáirm, (5g no sean, saor 6 ’n b-peacad so, lAi B-fuair an diaBal a nam a mian air an t-saogal mbs difeactaige ’ná le meodan an peacaid so — Omnes declinaverunt simul in- utiles facti sunt (Bsal. xiii., 3 ) Muna g-cuirtear cosg gan moill, a cáirde, air an ole so ; muna leigeastar an pláig so, a tá co leit- eadac so ann Bur measg ; muna d-tarraingtear ann am freimeaca an crainn malluigte so, na mionna mdra — an fdidir a rad nac d-tiocfaid an dile an dára úair air an doman, no nac d-tioc£aid teine as na Flaitis, a loisgfas agus a dditfas na poibleaca, rdir mar d’ ding do na caitreaca mdra, Sodom agus Gomorra, trid an b-pea- cad ? — Non est qui facial lonum^ non est usque ad unum {Psal. xiii., 3.) Old siB anois, a cáirde, cad se gdire an dlige, a nnne Criost ann agaid na mionna mdr — Nolite jurare omnino. Agus ann diaig Criost, cad se mar taoBuigeas an t-Apstol San Sdamus ? “ Os cionn gac uile nid, gan mionna air bit a taBairt ” — Super omnia nolite jurare. Ni f didir mar SERMONS OF THE 327 I have read in the Old Testament and in the New, that he could not have forbidden us the most odious sins, which are, treachery, conspiracies, murder, adultery, or thievery, in words more earnest and forcible than those in which he commands us not to swear. “ Above all things,” says he, “swear not.” O holy apostle ! your admonitions are in vain, and not less so are mine. It is a useless thing for you to forbid the people of those times to swear, for their mouths and their tongues are so fashioned to swearing, that you would imagine they have learned no other prayer, and had no other occupation since they left the cradle than swearing* There is no state or calling, neither is young or old, free from this sin. The devil never has got his will of the world more completely than through the means of this sin. — Omnes decUnaverunt simul inutiles facti sunt — Psal. xiii. 3. If this evil be not, my friends, immediately destroyed ; if this plague be not immediately healed, that has been BO widely spread among you ; if this cursed tree of swearing be not plucked up by the roots, is it possible for one to say that the deluge will not come a second time on the world ? or to be sure that fire from heaven will not come down to consume the people, as of old, it came on the great cities of Sodom and Gomorrah through their sins ?—^Non est qui faciat lonum, non est usque ad unum — Psal. xiii. 3. You perceive, my friends, what a strict law Jesus Christ made against swearing : “Do not swear at all.” And after Christ, how the apostle St. James has besought us, “above all things, to swear not.” — Super omnia nolite jurare. It cannot then possibly be said, that the violaters 328 MOST BEV. DR.*GÁLLAGHEB. sm, a rad, gur clann liiiial do Criost, luct briste an dlige so ; ni fáidir gur Criostaidte cearta, an muintir a bideas tugta do ’n peacad so. Maisead, os a cionn so, na deic n-aiteanta d’ fag Dia againn, ann a m-beit mar riagail aig ar g-coinsias, orduigeann diiinn anus an dára áitne gan ainm Dé a tabairt gan adbar— jVoti assumes nomen Domini Dei tui in vanum (Exod. xx., 7). Sé sin le rad nac c(5ir ddinn ainm naomta Dé rad no luad act an uair a bideann sinn ’g á molad agus ’g á guide ; nac cdir dilinn a luad act le airmidm agus ondir ; agus os cionn gac nid nac c(5ir duinn a tabairt mar mionna act le fior-riactanas — Nom assumes nomen Domini^ &c. A tá ainm milis so an Tigearna, a bideas tusa aig casad ann do beul malluigte, peacaig, le linn do mire agus do mi-foigide, d’ a d-tugann tu easondir agus maslad, ann áit airiiiidine agus umalacta, a gáireas tu ann fiagnuise anns an m-bréig co minic leis an firinne — co mórdálac, gldrmar sin, air mod nac lámuigeann na aingle, a ta os cionn an duine, a g-céim, ann uaisle, agus ann ondir, an t-ainm naomta so do luad no a clos, gan siad fdin a cur air a ngldine, agus a n-dadan d’ falugad ; agus fds dearhain Ifrinn, ann aimdeoin an fuat a tá aca air an Tigearna, teideann siad air a ngldine an uair a cluineann siad ainm losa — In nomine Jesu^ omne genufiectatur, coelestium^ ter- restrium, et infernorum (Philip ii.,10). O Ainm sdlasaig losa, a cuireas ulgáirdeas air ílaitea- riinas, a cuireas criteagla air Ifrionn, a adruigeas na áiugle, agus a ondruigeas gac uile crdatdr act an duine ! 0 duine malluige ! cá n-deacaid do ciall — cá n-deacaid do creideam — cá n-deacaid do motugad, ’n uair a beir tu easondir agus masla d’ Ainm gldrmar losa — an uair a gnid tu acar do damnuigie de ’n ainm so, air a b-£uil SEBMONS OF THE 329 of this law are obedient children of Jesus Christ ; it cannot be possible that they are correct Christians who are addicted to this sin. Moreover, of the ten com- mandments which God has left us, as a rule for our conscience, he commands us in the second, “not to take God’s name in vain.” — Exod. xx. 7. That is to sáy, that we should not express or mention the name of God, but when we are praising and supplicating him ; that we should mention it only with reverence and honour, and above all things, that we should not swear by His name unless through real necessity. This most sweet name of the Lord, which you, wretched sinner, twist in your wicked mouth during your passion, anger, madness, and impatience — a name to which you give dishonour and reproach, instead of reverence and respect — which you call to testify to a lie as often as to the truth — is so much to be lauded, and is so glorious, that the angels, who are above man in grade in dignity, and honour, dare not mention, nor hear this sacred name without kneeling and covering their faces ; and even the devils in hell, notwithstanding their hatred to the Lord, kneel at the mention of the name of Jesus : “At the name of Jesus every knee shall bend, of those that are in heaven, on earth, and in hell” — In nomine Jem, omne genu Jicdatar, coelestium, iefrrestriujn et infer ~ novum — Phil. ii. 10. 0, comforting name of Jesus ! which sends exultation throughout the heavens, which strikes hell with terror, which is adored by the angels, and is revered by every creature. 0 wicked man ! where is your sense ? where is your faith ? where is your feeling ? When you give dishonour and reproach to the glorious name of Jesus ! when you make instrumental to your condemnation this 330 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHER. aiiiain do slánugad ? An uair a beir tu gan cdtugad gan criotnugad, dar losa Criost, is cosamail nac d-tuigeann tu cad se diogbail an peacaid, mionna m(5r do tabairt, no cad se mend an diogaltais a gnid Dia air luct na mionna m6r. Act ná bi ann anbos mbs faide; b^arfaid mise solus duit air anns an dara punc. An dura punc — Cum go d-tuigfá a Criostaid, cad se mend agus gráinamlact peacaid na mionna mór, ni b-fuil agat act dearcad air mdrdact Dd air taob, agus air nearii- brig an duine air an taob eile, agus air trocaire agus air maiteas Dd do ’n duine ; gur b’ se Dia do crutuig neam. agus talam, gur b’ se an Dia so ard-rig agus stiuruigteoir an domain ; gur b’ se an stuideur cinnte bideas aige an uile maiteas a deanad do ’n duine lonmus na ngrása a romn lels agus oigre a deanad de air rigeact neime ; agus air an taob eile gur b’ se an nid an duine creatiir boct anfann, lán doirn de crd, sac Ian de lobadas agus biad piast agus cnuimedg — Dixi putredini -pater mens es, mater mea^ et soror mea vermibus (Job. xvii., 14.) Má dearcann tu mar so, deirim, air í)ia agus air an duine, agus air gac oibliogáid, a tá aig Dia air an duine, beid longantas ort faoi míonádiíract an duine, go m-bei- dead se co leigte ann fearg a cur air Dia agus a bideann se, agus go sunradac le peacad, a tá co masluigeac air Dia agus CO mi-tairbeac do ’n duine, mar a ta na mionna mdra. Beid longantas ort faoi mend na foigide, do gnid Dia leis an dume, nac scriosann se <5 'n talam, no nac loisgeann se le teine as na Flaitis, ’n uair a lamuigeas aitis agus masla a tabairt D(5, le n-a teangain malluid, ann diaig gac maiteasa a rinne Se air — Quid est quod de- but ultra facer e vinece meoe, etfeci (Isa. v., 4.) Tiocf aid sib liom air so, a cairde, nac feidir gmbm a beit nios grainamla ’na da m-buailfad, no dá ma^lócad dume SERMONS OF THE 331 name, by wbicb alone yon can be savedi ; when you swear without dread or fear, by the name of Jesus Christ. It seems you understand not what you do, nor the horrid mischief of swearing, nor the great vengeance which God executes upon the swearers. But be so no longer. I shall give you an insight of this in the second part. Second part. — Christians, in order that you may perceive how great and heinous the sin of swearing is, you have nothing more to do than to look to the majesty of God on the one hand, and the weakness of man on the othei, and the mercy and goodness of God towards man. This God is the Creator of heaven and earth ; this God is the Supreme Lord and Kuler of the whole world. His constant study is to confer all kinds of goodness on man, to share with him the happiness of divine grace, and lo make him an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven. On the other hand, man is a poor, wretched creature, a hand- ful of clay, a vessel full of filth, and the food of worms and maggots — Putredini dixi, pater mens es, mater mea et soror mea vermibus — Job. xvii. 14. If you thus look on God and at man, I say, and on every obligation God has on man, you will be surprised at man’s ill nature, that he is so ready at provoking God, especially by a sin that is so full of reproach to Qod, and so fruitless to man, as the sin of swearing is. You will be surprised at God’s great patience with man, that He does not destroy him from the face of the earth, or that He does not consume him with fire from heaven, when he offers to insult and abuse Him with his evil tongue, in return for all His goodness towards him — Quid est quod debet ultra facere vinece mece, et non feci — Isai. v. 4. My friends, you will agree with me, that there is no act more abominable than that a man beat and abuse his 332 MOST REV, DR. GALLAGHER. a atair ; agus gur mo ’na sin, a ris, an coir, dá d-tairgfacl sclabuid boot, diblid, bualad no masla a tabairt d’ a rig no d’ a tigearna. Beidead fuafc agus gram agaiB air an b-£ear so, seacnócad sib a cuideact, agus ni se sin amain, act bud beag lib aon pianas dá meud do geabfad se. Maisead so cas an duine a beir mionna mbra. Beir an mac mi-rat amail so, easondir do ’n Atair sioruid do tar- raing se as neamnid ; buailann an sclabuid salac so trom- buillid marbaca d’ á teangam air Ard-Rig na cruinne ; do gnid se saltairt faoi n-a cosa de fuil uasail losa, ’n uair a beir se se mar inionna ; ceusann se Criost an dara úair, agus cuirann se a cneada aig seilead. Gnid se treus ann agaid Dé, aig brisead a dlige. Fuagrann se cogad air i)ia, ’n uair a beir se se féin, no créatiír air bit eile, d’ a námuid, an diabal. Beir se dublan Dé, ’n uair larras air se féin, no creatiir air bit eile, a damnugad. Ni bid- eann de sgát, no d’ eagla air roiiii mdr-ciimact Dé, act mar beidead da m-bud dia do ice, no maide, Se. Ann aon focal do gnid ole ann agaid gac maiteasa do rinne an Tigearna air . — Expectavi ui facevet uvas, etfacit Idbrmcas (Isa. V., 4). Nár leigid Dia, a cairde, go b-fuil t-réatiírac, air bit, ann Bur measg-sa, a teid aig treus, mar so, air a crutuig- teoir. Agus má tá , an fddir a rad nac m-bideann fuat agus gráin agaib air fá easoneir agus masla do tabairt do bur n-Atair ? An féidir a rad nac n-árigeann gruaig bur g-cinn, ’n uair a cid sib losa Criost ’g á ceusad agus ’g á cascairt le teangam malluid na muintire so ? Ni clann limal do Criost sib, ma fulaingeann sib a maslugad gan tairgsint, reir mar is feidir lib, barrad a cur air an liiumtir so, a bideas ’g á strdcad agus ’g á gearrad ; agus muna d-tigfaid lib a g-cosg, seilfaid sib, air n-ddig, bur SERMONS OF THE 33x^5 father ! And that the crime is still greater, when a poor despicable slave ofEers to beat or abuse his king or his lord. You would abhor and detest this man — you would shun his company — and not even that, but you would think the greatest punishment too little for him. Then, this is the case with the person who swears ; this un- righteous son dishonours his eternal Father, who drew him out of the abyss of nothing. This vile slave strikes the sovereign Lord of the universe with the weighty, deadly blows of his tongue; he tramples under his feet the most precious blood of Jesus. When he swears by His name he crucifies Jesus Christ anew, and sets His wounds to bleed afresh ! He commits treason against God by breaking His commandments. He proclaims war against God, when he gives himself, or any other creature, to God’s adversary — the devil. He défies God when he desires to damn himself or any other creature* He is no more afraid nor in dread before God, than if he were only a god made of a stick or a stone. In a word, he returns evil for all the blessings his Lord confers on him — Expectavi ut faceret uvas, et fecit kibmscas — Isai. 5. 4. God forbid, my friends, that there is any vile traitor among you who revolts in this way against his Creator. If there is, can it be possible but that you abhor and detest him, for dishonouring and insulting your Father ? Can it be possible but the hair of your head stands on an end when you see Jesus Christ crucified anew and mangled with the cursed tongues of those people ? You are not obedient children to Jesus Christ if you see him abused, and the while do not strive, as far as in you lies, to prevent those who are thus tearing and tormenting him ; and if you cannot prevent them, I am sure you will shed 334 MOST BEV, LB. GALLAGHEB. n-deora le truaig fo n-a mire. Caoinfaid sil5, air n-doig, ann aoinfeact le Criost, a guil deora fola d’ a sdile agua d’ a cnéis, aig caomead peacaid na muintire so, a ta dm ’g a diblmgad agus ’g á maslugad — Videns civitatem Jievit super illam {Luces, xix., 4.^ Ná samluig, a criostaid, go B-fuil me aig meudugad an peacaid so, act mar ta se ann Mn 6 nádiír. Ni B-fuilim gan amrus. Ni tig liom leat oilc agus mailise an peacaid so, a cur ann limail daoiB. Ni peacad se nios luga ’ná naomaitis agus dia-maslugad ann agaid naomacta D^. Agus ca B-fuil an peacad, a Beir bárr olcais air peacaid an diamasluigte, no na naoihaitise ? Ca B-fuil an peacad a tarraingeas sgiursa agus diogaltas Dá air an duine, mar peacad an diamasluigte, no na naomaitise ? Ni B-fuil gan amrus. Rinne Dia foigid lé Baltasar, rig uaiBreac na Babiloin, ann gac craos agus adaltranas, ann gac tioran- tas agus anflaiteas, ann gac feall agus marBugad ; act co luat a’s d’ orduig se na soitige beannuigte, do robail atair as catair Serusalem, a taBairt ann cláir cuige, cum go n-ólfad se féin agus a ciíirtéirid malluigte fion asta, connaire sé anns an mdimemt ceadna, lám air an m-balla aig scrioB a Breit damanta — Mane Thecel, Phares {Dan. V., 25.; ’Se IS diamaslugad ann, a criostaid easondir no masla a taBairt do í)ia, no d’ á naoim. Agus an feidir duit, a duine, masla a taBairt m'os mo do í)ia ’na Ainm Naomta a Beit ann do Beul, air tiis agus deire gac focail, agus a Beit ’g á taBairt mar mionna a B-fior agus a m-bráig ? An féidir leat Dia do maslugad nios md ’ná an uair a Bronnas tu luac a cuid fola d’ á namuid, an diaBal ? Ni feidir gan amrus ; agus d’ á Brig sin tiocfaid la an cun- tuis — tiocfaid an lá ann a n-iarrfaid tu air Lasarus, mar SEBM0N8 OF TEE 335 tears for their madness. You will weep, I am sure, along with Jesus, who shed tears of blood from His eyes, arid from all His members, weeping for the sins of those who are this day reviling and reproaching Him — Videns civi^^ tem Jieoit super illam — Luke, xix. 41. Do not imagine, Christians, that I am enlarging this sin, or exaggerating it beyond its nature. Surely I can- not half describe to you its evil and malice. It is no less a sin than profanation and blasphemy against the divinity of God ; and where is the sin can exceed in wickedness the sin of blasphemy and profanation ? Is there a sin that draws down the scourage and vengeance of God upon man, like unto the sin of blasphemy and sacrilege ? Certainly not. God had patience with Balthazzar, the proud king of Babylon, in all his gluttony and debauchery, in all his tyranny and cruelty, and in all the conspiracies and murders he had done ; but as soon as he ordered the sacred vessels, which his father had robbed out of the temple of Jerusalem, to be brought to his board, for himself and his wicked courtiers to accom- modate themselves with wine-drinking, he saw, at the same moment, a hand, writing the sentence of his con- demnation ©n the wall — ManOj Tliecelj Phares — Dan. v. 15. Christians, blasphemy is to give dishonour or reproach to God, or to his saints ; and, 0 man, can you possibly give greater dishonour to God, than to have His holy name in your mouth at the beginning of every sentence, and to be swearing by Him in truth and in lies ? Can you give God greater abuse than when you bestow the price of His blood on His enemy the devil ? Certainly you cannot; and, therefore, the accounting day will come, when you will beg of Lazarus, like the rich man 336 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHER. duioe saidbir an t-Soisgéil, b raon beag a cur as barr a rhéire, mar fuarugad do do tean gam, a Beideas ’g á dótad, agus *g á losgad, a m-borb t-einte Ifrinn — Crucior in hoc fiamma (Lucx xvi., 24). Tiocfaid an la, ann a mall(jcaid an clann na aitreaca agus na máitreaca, fá gan cosgad a cur orta ann am o’ n b-peacad so, agus fá an droc oideas a Beirid doiB, le gac droé-itce agus mór-mionna do Beirid as g-comair. Tioc- faid an la ann a mallocaid na seirBisige a maigistir agus a máigistreás, fá gan smact a cur orta 6 Beit tugta do ’n peacad so ; tiocfaid an lá, ann a mallocaid an coiiiursa an comursa eile, fa a tarraing cum an peacaid so, le n-a droc- sompla, Tiocfaid an lá ann a n-déirfaid luct ha mionna mdr, go m-bud feárr leo gur balB a bárfaid siad, ’n uair a clumfas siad an Breit doMsac sud, a Beirfas Breiteam na m-beo agus na marB orta : — Imigid rdmaiB, a droing malluigte, anns na lasraca craosaca slid Ifrinn, mar luac saotair air son Bur n-diamaslugte, agus Bur mionna mdr — Discedite a me, mdledicti, id ignem obternum (Matt 41.^ Ni ’1 taoB air bit ann a n-dearcaim air an té Bideas tugta do mionna mdra, nac B-feicim gur diol deor agus truaig se; ni ’1 imeact aige 6 pianta sioruid Ifrinn, anns an t-saogal eile, má geiB bás gan aitrige. Tarraingeann sd scrios agus diogaltas De air fdm anns an t-saogal so go mur-mdr, mar ta tinneas, aicid, buairt, breis, agus boct- aineact. Muna g-creidfaid siB mise, creidfaid siB, air n-d(jig, an Spiorad Naom, a deir se, “ lionann se anam le iOcta, agus ni sgarann sciursa Id n-a teaglac ;” — Vir mul~ turn jurans, replebitur iniquiiaie^ et non rccedit de domo ejus ‘jplaga (xxiii., 12). Os a cionn so, an td a Bideas tugta do mionna mdra, dibrid se 6 na sacramuinte, de Brig nac feidir absoldid a SERMONS OF THE 337 mentioned in the Gospel, to afford you one drop of water from the tip of his finger to cool your tongue, that shall be burning in the raging fire of hell — Urucior in hac flamma — Luke, xvi. 24. The day will come when the children will curse their fathers and mothers, for not reproving them in time for this sin, and for the bad example which they had given them by all the evil instruction, and by the oaths they had sworn in their presence. The day will come when the servants will curse their masters and their mistresses for not having reprimanded them for this sin. The day will come when one neighbour will curse the other for drawing him into this sin, and for the bad example given. The day will come when the swearers will cry out, wo to themselves, and when they will wish that they had been born dumb, when they shall hear the doleful sentence which the Judge of the living and the dead will then pass on them : “ Depart from me, ye cursed, into tlie devouring flames of hell, as a reward for your blasphemy and your swearing” — Discedite a me, maledicti, in ignem oeternum — Matt. xxv. 41. There is no view which I take of him who is addicted to swearing that I find him not an object worthy of tears and compassion. He cannot escape the everlasting pains of hell in the next world, if he die impenitent ; and most commonly he draws destruction and the wrath of God upon himself in this world, and these are sickness, disease, trials, loss and poverty. If you do not believe me you will, likely, believe the Holy Ghost, who affirms, ‘‘He who swears frequently, shall be filled with iniquity, and a scourge shall not depart from his house” — Vir muUum jurans, replebitur iniguitcdey et non recedet de domo ejus ylaga — Eccles. xxiii. 12. Moreover, he who is addicted to swearing, is denied the sacraments, because absolution cannot be given to 338 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHER. taBairt do ’n te, a Bideas cleactac air an b-peacad, agus naú mian leis a Beata a leasugad. Tarraingeann na mionna mora drocmeas agas sganal air an té a Bideas ’g á d-taBairt. Ni fagann siad meas criostaid air j ni mian le dame cneasta air bit, cuideact a congBáil leis an te a Bideas tngta do ’n peacad so. Ni dearcann se, go minic, cia aca Bideas aige, f ior no breug ; agus d’ á Brig sin, Beir go mdr-mBr mionna éite. O, a ceannuidte agus a luict diolta na áimsire so, dear- caid le uatBas air staid Baogalaig ann a B-£uil siB. Ann se, nac leur daoiB, go m-bideann siB ciontac go mmic a mionna éite, ’n uair a dearBuigeas siB le mionna gar cosain bar g-caid earaid an oiread so daoiB, agas siB cinte, anns an am céadna, nar cosain, no a leat-oiread. Agus siBse, a luict ceirde, a geallas go Sasgaid, na neite a Bideas air bur láiiii, Beit ráid ann a leitid so d’ am, agus ni se amain, geallamuin, act cuireann siB seula air le mionna, an feidir liB a seunad nac g-cuireann siB fiagnuise bréige a leit Dá, nac d-tugann sib mionna éite ? — In muUitudine jurament- orimi^ non deest mendacium. O ! a Pobuil Criostamail, dearcaid le uatBas air staid baogalaig Bur g-coinsiais. Do cid siB nac feidir duine air bit a saorad air peacad, a Bideas tugta do mionna mdra agus nac peacad mar gac peacad do gnid se, act naoiiiaitis agus diaiiiaslugad ; agus cid siB cad se an sgiursa, a cuireas Dia air luct na mionna m(jr, anns an t-saogal so, agus anns an t-saogal eile. Agus, oc mo mile truaig ! cideann siB anns an am ceadna, nac B-fuil neac diB fein saor, gan cupan agus an lomarca d’ (51 de nim marBac an peacaid. Cid siB co domain agus cuir an crann malluid so, na mionna m(5r, a fréimeaca ann Bur g-croidte j cid sib CO leatan agus a tá an luiBre so ann bur measg. Act aig SERMONS OF THE. 339 him who is addicted to habitnal sin, and who is not re- solved to amend his life. Swearing brings contempt and scandal on the person who practises it ; it deprives him of all Christian respect ; no proper person is willing to keep company with him who is addicted to this sin. An habitual swearer cares not whether he has truth or untruth on his side, consequently, he frequently perjures himself. 0 merchants and dealers of these times, behold with astonishment the dangerous state in which you are ! Do you not perceive that you are often guilty of perjury, when you swear that your wares cost you so much, and you conscious at the same time that they did not, nor, perhaps, half so much? And you tradesmen, who promise quickly to have those articles that are lying on your hands made ready at such a time, nay, not alone promise, but seal it with an oath — can you deny that you do not charge God with bearing false witness, or that you perjure yourselves ? O Christian people ! behold with astonishment the dangerous state of your conscience. You will perceive that no one can be considered free from sin who is addicted to swearing, and that it is not a sin like unto every other sin ; that he who swears, commits profanation and blasphemy. And you perceive what scourges God inflicts on swearers in this world, and in the next. And, 0 ! my sad sorrow, you will see at the same time, that there are none of yourselves who have not taken a draught too much of the deadly poison of sin ; you perceive how firmly this wicked tree of swearing has struck root in your conscience ; and how widely its branches have spread amongst you. You will perceive the extent to which this leprosy of your souls has spread. But, in be- 340 MOST BEY. BB. GALLAGEEB. feucamt air staid glonnmair, agus easlainte marBaig Bnr n-anama, tairgfaid siB, air n-dóig, siB féin do glanad o ’n luiBre sOj — larrfaid siB leigeas — Vis sanm fieri ? (JoanY., 6 .) Má larrann, so Criost (sumat crucem) reid ann a taBairt daoiB ; so liaig agus doctiir Bur n-anama, agus a láma sinte a g-crann na croice, cum slainte anama agus coirp do taBairt daoiB, Act is ^igin daoiB Bur g-ciieada do nigea3, air tils, lé uisge na aitrige. Sin an ioc.Uainte, a ta Criost aig ordugad daoiB, ann agaid gac loit agus gac galair. Act is pairt de ’n leigeas, fuat a Beit agaiB air an n-galar, diultugad do 6 so suas feasta — Ecce sanus foetus, noli amplius peccare. Na clumtear atruigad de mionna as Bur m-beul feasta, act dar go deimin, no dar go dearBta. Má gnid siB so, geaBfaid siB luac-saotair 6 Dia anns an t-saogal so, agus anns an t-saogal eile — Benediclio Dei, &:c. SERMONS OF TEE 341 holding the disgustful state and the deadly disease of your souls, you will, I hope endeavour to cleanse your- selves of this leprosy, and that you will seek to be healed — Vis sanus fieri ? — John, v. 6. If you do, here behold (looking at the crucifix) is Jesus Christ ready to heal you — here is the Doctor and Physician of your souls, and his arms are extended on the cross to confer on you health of body and soul. But it is necessary for you first to wash your wounds with the waters of penance. This is the antidote which Jesus Christ requires of you to meet each disease and infirmity. But it is a part of the remedy to have a real abhorrence of this malady for the future. Let no other oath be heard from your mouths henceforward than ‘‘ yes, yes,” or “ no, no.” If you do this, you shall obtain a reward from God in this life, and happiness in the next — Amen. AN SETSEAD SEANMOIR DEUG. AIR AN B-PAIS. Pevcussi eum propter scelus populi mei. Do lot mé se trid peacad mo pobuil — Briatra an Atar Neamda aig Isaias anns 53 caib., 8 rann. • Is fibr sm, Ard-rig nile-cumactaig, is fior gur lot tu d’ aon Mac, Criost. Lot tu se an taob astig, agus lot tu se an taob amuig: an taob astrg le buairead intinne, agus le smuainte dolasaca ; agus an taob amuig le pianta eugsamla- Lot tu a ceann le coróin spiona, a lama agus a cosa le sparaid, a druim agus a guailne le sciursaid, agus lot tu a croide le sleag. Ann aon focal, ni deacaid coihnuig ort act ’g á lotad no gur marbuigis se air an g-CTOic^ Propter scelus populi mei, ác. Act, a At air Sioruid, cad se an coir do nnne d’ aon Mac, Criost ? Cad as a b-fuil tu ’g a cur ann bais — Quid enim mali fecit (Matt, xxvii., 23) ? An b-fuil dmne air bit IS naomta ’na Criost ? Nac se an t-Uan se, air nac b-fuil sal no loct ; nac se d' aon Mac Mn se ? ’Se gan amrus. Maisead, cad as b-fuil tu ’g a lotad, agus ’g a lotad CO diogbalac, air mod gur cascair agus gur criot- nuig an talam agus an t-aer agus an nádiír lomlán — Quid enim mali fecit ? Is fior, a deir, an t-Atair Sioruid go b-fuil mo Iklac neaiii-ciontac, nac n-deárnaid se nid air bit a riam ann agaid mo tola : act as meud a grád air an g-cine daona, glac se a b-peacaid air, glac a laim sasad do tabairt dam-sa anns na mdr-coirte a nnne siad ann m’ agaid ; d’ a brig sin, tá se ann a dearg-namuid agam, SERMON XVL ON THE PASSION. Percussi eum propter scelus populi mei. “ I have smitten him on account of the sins of my people. — Isa. liii. 8. It is true, 0 almighty sovereign Lord, it is true, that you did smite your ouly son, Christ ; you wounded him internally and you wounded him externally ; internally with anguish of mind and sorrowful thoughts, and ex- ternally by torments unexampled. You wounded his head with a crown of thorns, his hands and his feet with nails, his back and his shoulders with scourges, and you wounded his heart with a spear. In a word, you did not cease wounding him, until you killed him on the cross — Propter scelus populi mei. But, 0 eternal Father ! what crime has your only Son Jesus Christ committed ? why did you put Him to death ? — Quid enim mali fec%t ? — what harm has He done Matt, xxvii. 23. Is there any one more holy than Jesus ? Is He not the immaculate Lamb — the Lamb without spot ? Is He not Your own only Son ? He is certainly. Then why did You wound Him, and wound Him so severely, that the earth, the heavens, and all nature at large shuddered and quaked ? — Quid enim mali fecit ? — what harm has He done ? It is true, says the eternal Father, that my Son is innocent, that He has never done any thing contrary to My will ; yet through His excessive love for mankind. He has taken upon Him their sins ; He has undertaken to give Me satisfaction in the great oifences they have committed, I proclaim 344 MOST REV. EE, OALLAGEER. fuagruigim cogad feasta air, ni ’1 diogaltas da d-tiocfaid horn nac n-deanfaid me air no go marbuig me se, air son peacaid an pobuil — Propter scelus populi mei. Cid siB, mar sin, a Pobuil Criostaig gur b’ siad Bur b-peacaid-se agus peacaid an cine daona a tdig an fearg so, agus an fuat so, eidir an t-Atair Sioruid agus a Mac ro-gradac, Criost. Cid siB gur B’ se an peacad is adBar le ugdar na beata a Basad, gur b’ se an peacad a ceus aon lilac Dd — Propter scelus populi mei. Foscail anois, a Criostaid, silile do creidirh agus cid- faid tu do Slanuigteoir ’g a lotad trid do peacaid : an ceud uair, anns an gairdin mar do cuir se alius fola d’ a cneis ; cidfaid tu se ’g a lotad an dára úair, aig an m-bara, d -tig na cuirte, le sciursaid ; cidfaid tu se faoi deoig air SldiB Caluaire, mar a B-fuair bas scanalac na croice. Sin na tri punc a deanfas suim agus roinn mo comrád. Leana- muid se ann gac bealac dólásac dioB so, act leanamuid se le tuile deor ann ar sdiliB, lomad osna ann ar g-cliaB, agus le fior-ddlas croide. larrarauid na grasa so air an Spiorad Naom, le eidir-guide Muire, a inátar dd- lásac. An ceud punc — Is deiihin, a Criostaid, nac B-£uil diog- Bail air bit is md, no ole le fágail is fdidir a cur a g-com- meas le ole agus le uredid an peacaid, o ’s cinte nac fdidir an diogBail so a leasugad, no sasad a taBairt ann act le bás Criost, an Dára Pearsa de ’n Triondid. Is cinte nac B-fuil salacar air bit is do-nigte ’ná salacar an pea- caid ’n uair nac fdidir a nigead act le fuil Uain Dd. Act cia, ’n áit, no ’n uair, a tionsgain Mac Dd leigeas a deanad air uredid an peacaid, no ’n salcar so do nigead ? A ta ann Gairdin na g-Crann Ola ; so an ceud ait ann ar lot Criost se fdin air sgat peacaid an pobuil — Propter scelus populi mei percussi me. Tainic se ann an gairdin uaignig SERMONS OF TEE 345 war, therefore, against Him from this forward — there is no vengeance that I shall not inflict on Him, even to death, on account of the sins of the people. You see then, Christian people, that it was your sins, and those of all mankind, that have caused this anger between the eternal Father and His beloved Son, Jesus Christ ; you see your sins have been the death of the Author of Life, and have crucified the Son of God. Open then, Christians, open the eyes of your faith, and you will see your Eedeemer wounded for your sins ; on the first time in the garden, where He sweated drops of blood from His body ; you will see Him the second time at the tribunal in the court ; and, lastly, you will see Him on Mount Calvary, where He suffered the ignominious death of the cross. These are the three parts into which I shall divide my subject. Let us follow Him in each dolorous passage ; but let us follow Him with torrents of tears from our eyes, abundance of sighs from our bosoms, and with a real sorrow of heart. Let us beg these graces of the Holy Ghost, through the inter- cession of the blessed Virgin Mary, His sorrowful mother . — Eail Mary, &c. First part. — Christians, it is certain, there is no evil nor calamity to be found that can be compared to the evil and mischief of sin. For it is certain that this evil cannot be atoned for but by the death of Jesus Christ, the second person of the blessed Trinity. It is certain there is no filth nor stain so hard to be cleansed as the filth of sin, whereas it cannot be cleased but with the blood of the Lamb of God. But in what place, or at what time, did the Son of God prepare a cure for the injury inflicted by sin, or to wash away these stains ? Ah ! it was in the garden of Olivet ! Here is the first place in which Jesus suffered severe afiliction for the sins of the people. He came to this lonely garden the night before He suffered, when all nature lay covered with darkness, — clad, as it were, in mourning for the scandalous death 346 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGEEB. so, agus sin ’s an oidce roirh bás d’ fulaing ; am ann a raiB an nádiír uile ann dorcadas, agus se amail agus mar déarfaiun, a g-culaid cuma faoi ’n m-bás scanalac Bi aig triall air ; am ann nac raiB md air bit le toirmeasg a cur air a dólás no le n-a intinn a tdgBáil (5 n-a smuainte im- nigeaca Bi faoi n-a croide. So an ait ann a raiB Cnbst ann a Breite, agus ann a ceusaduir ann aoinfeact; tug se leigeann, aiiiail agus mar déarfainn, d’ a dubrdn agus d’ a tursa aig smuainiugad air mionádiír an duine, air grain- anilact an peacaid, agus air lomadamlact na b-pian Bi ann a ceann, air mod go m-bud éigin dó reubad amac anns na briatra truaganta so : — “ Ni B-f uil seasad agam le meud mo tursa” — Tristis est anima usque ad mortem. ’Sead, a Criost, a Eig an domain, air n-dóig leig tu do tursa amac go leor — anois sin do croide briste ; air n-doig guil tu go leor air son peacaid na muintire nac nguileann siad-féiD, air son a b-peacaid, agus nac smuainigeann, air do páis. 0, ni leor le Mac Dá so ; ta se air ti se fém a lotad mile uair air sgát an pobuil — Fropter scelus, óce. Dearcaid air a cnáis a ta baitte ann alius f ola ; feueaid na srotáin a ta aig seilead as a Baill agus as pórta a coirp go lomlán — F actus est enim sudor ejus sicut gultoe. sanguinis deciirrentis in terram (Luc. xxiv., 2, 44.) Foscluigid do croidte, a cáirde, agus glacaid ann soitig Bur n-anama, an full uasal so an Ard-Eig, a ta ’g a ddrtad air Bur son. Ná leigid aon Braon amáin fo lár de ’n full mdr-luaic so, Bideas mar locslamte aig Bur n-anam ; act is gnioiii do- déanta daoiB freastal togBála a taBairt di, de Brig, réir mar deir an doctur naomta, San Bearnárd, gur guil Criost le uile Ball d’ a colam — Memh'is omnibus flevisse videtur. Nior tug an nadiir do ’n duine act dá suil 1’ agaid gula act tug an mór-grád a Bi aig Criost air a pobul agus meud SERMONS OF THE 847 that was being prepared for Him, — a time when there was nothing to interrupt His grief, or to divert His mind from the anxious thoughts which lay on His heart. Here is the place where Jesus Christ was both a judge of Himself, and His own crucifier ; here He gave full vent, if I should so speak, to His sadness and to His grief, by thinking of the corrupt nature of mankind, of the enormity of sin, and of the excessive torments that awaited himself ; so that He was forced to burst into these pitiful words: — “I cannot stand the immensity of My sorrow — My soul is sorrowful, even unto death !” — Tristis est anima mea usque ad mortem. O yes, dear Christ, sovereign of the world, sure You have given sufficient scope to Tour grief, now that Your heart is broken. Sure You have wept enough for the sins of those people, who let fall not one tear for their own sins, and never think of Your passion. O ! the Son of God is not satisfied with all this \ He is determined to afflict Himself a thousand times more severely for the sins of His people. Look at His body bathed in a bloody sweat ! Behold the streams that flow from His members, and from all the pores of His body — Factus est enim sudor ejus sicut guita sanguinis decurrentis in terram — Luke, xxiv. Open your hearts, my friends, and receive into the vessels of your souls this royal blood of the supreme Lord, which is being spilled for you. Do not let a drop go to loss of this priceless blood, which will be a healing cordial to your souls. But it is a difficult thing for. you to pay full attendance so as to allow none to loss, it flows so copiously ; so much so that the holy St. Bernard says, Jesus wept from every member of His body — Memhris omnibus flevisse videtur. Nature has given unto man but two eyes for weeping, but the exceeding love of Jesus Christ for His people, 348 MOST BEV. DB, GALLAGHEB, na duile a Bi aige fuascailt doiB as sclaBuideact an diaBail, na milte tuile deor. Nior^lia pórta Bi air a corp, no ribe gruaige air a ceann, ’ná na trom-deora fola Bi aig seilead uaid — Memhris omnibus flevisse videtur, NÍ gan adBar, air n-d(5ig, a Tigearna, a ta tu fnlaing gac mdr-páanaid dioB so. Ni gan fat, air n-d(5ig, a ta tu aig dul a large, agus aig nrnaige co fada so. Ni gan adBar, a ta tuile deor mar so le do cnéis. Ni gan adBar a ta dólás agus tursa co eugsaiiiail so ort. 0 ! ni sead, a cairde ; dá m-beidead gan atrugad d’ adBar aige act gur diol ludás, fear d’ a deisciobal féin se air deic b-pigne ficead, agus gur seun taoiseac na n-apstol, Peadar, se — Ter me negabis (Matt, xxvi., 23.) Ann aice so, teitead naireac na n-deisciobal eile, agus an ddlas eugsamail agus an dubrdn do Bi air a inátair, Muire. Nár indr na ádBair tursa agus dubrdin do Criost gac nid dioB so ? Bud mdr, gan amrus. 0 ! maisead, ta ádBar eile aige, nios mo mile uair mar a ta go B-feiceann se go soleur, ann aimdeom gac mdr-pdanaid, a ta se aig fulaing air son peacaid an pobuil, go n-damndcar mile agus mile pearsa ann agaid gac duine a slándcar, de ’n pobul ceadna — Multi sunt vocati, pauci vero electi (Matt, xx, 16) — gur lia duine aig deanad seirBise do ’n diaBal a bdarfad pianta sioruid ddiB ’ná Dd-fdin a Bdarfad sdlas sioruid doiB a B-flaiteas. An longnarii a croide reubad agus leágad ann a cliaB le lomad ddlas agus tursa, ’n uair a cid se tusa, a gaduid, a Bideas aig stuideur go laeta- mail diogBail a deanad do do cdinursain, agus aig do taBairt fdin air slaBra do ’n diaBal tar dis Se-fdin tu scaoilead le n-a alius fola ? An longnaih se Beit an diu baitte ann dubrdn agus a d-tursa, ’n uair a cid se tusa, a giolla eile, gac lá air meisge agus gan tuillead d ole air bit agat le linn do meisge ? O, a peacaig, dá g-cloinfeá SERMONS OF THE 349 and His ardent desire to release them from the slavery of the devil, cost Him a flood of tears. All the pores in His flesh, or all the hairs on His head, did not exceed in number the heavy drops of blood that flowed from Him ! It is not without reason, O Lord, I am sure, you are enduring all those exceeding pangs ! It is not without cause You are fainting and praying so long ! It is not with- out reason that such torrents of tears are flowing down Your cheeks, and that bloody sweat pours along Your body ! It is not without reason that You are overwhelmed with such extraordinary grief and melancholy ! Ah, no, my friends. He had enough if He had no greater reason than that Judas, one of His own disciples, sold Him for thirty pieces of silver, and St. Peter, the head of the apostles, denied Him. — Matt. xxvi. 84. Besides all this the shameful flight of the other disciples, the incom- parable grief and sorrow of His virgin mother, what cause of sadness and melancholy were all these things to Jesus ! Certainly very great. O, then. He has a thousand times more cause of grief on account of sin, because He foresees clearly, notwithstanding all the torments He is enduring for the sins of His people, that thousands and thousands of the same people will be damned for the one that will be saved : “ Many are called, but few are chosen ” — Multi sunt vocati, pauci vero electi — Matt. xx. 16 — that more would serve the devil, who is to reward them with eternal torments, than would serve Him who will give them everlasting happiness in heaven. What wonder that His heart should burst and melt in His bosom with excess of grief and of sorrow, when He sees you, knave, whose constant study is to injure your neighbour ; and giving yourself up in chains to the devil, after He Himself has redeemed you with His bloody sweat ! What wonder that He is this day deluged in grief and sadness, when He sees you, or any other one, every day drunk — you who stop at no kind of evil-doing 350 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGHEB. do Slanuigteoir an oidce sud roiih bás, aig buain mac-alla as na clocaib leis an eugcaoin truaigniéi- leac Slid an fáig Isáiais — Ergo in vacuum labor a oi, ei vane fortitudinem meam consumpsi (Zsa. xlix,, 4.) Is truag mo cás, a deir se; ann aisce a ta me aig cait- ead mo saotair ; is diomaoin m’ urnaige ; is diomaoin mo gul agus mo deora ; is diomaoin m’ alius fola — Ergo in vacuum laboravi. Act cad cuige, a Tigearna, b-fuil tu aig eugcaoin, mar so ? Cad se a Báarfad do tursa an aisce agat ? Nac air son an cine daona, a ta tu aig ddrtad do cuid fola, agus nac b-fuil siad fein air a son agat ? Oc IS air a son, act cad se an tairbe a ta dam ann a d-taob na d-Turcac no na b-págánac, agus go n-damantar siad uile, de Brig nac g-creideann agus nac n-géilleann siad dam-sa ? — Qui non credit in nomine uni- geniti filii Dei (Jo. iii., 19.) Má ’s air son an cine Iiidaig a tá me aig lomcur morualac na croice, oc, mo mile truaig ! tá siad uile aig mo tréigsint, ni slánócar act fíor-Beagán dioB. Má ’s air son na g-criostaigte a ta me aig diirtad mo cuid fola, deir an Firinne Sioruid liom, gid go B-fuil cuiread aca uile triall go Flaitis gur beag dioB a tiocfas ; gid go B-fuil feusta mdr-luaic na glBiré ollmuigte faoi n-a g-cómair, nac rac- faid an treas fear dioB ’g ’a glacad — MuUi sunt vocati^ pauci vero electi (Matt, xx.) Oc ! cad se an diol-truaig, Slánuigteoir an cine daona a’ gul agus a’ geur-caoinead air son peacaid na muintire nac seileann siad-fem aon deor, agus nár guil a riam air son a b-peacaid ; Se a Beit aig sgartad agus aig gartad agus a láiiia sgarta amac air an g-croic mar geall air an muintir nac n-déanann oiread agus amarc siar air ! — Vocavi et refiuistis (Prov. xi, 14J. Act, a At air Sioruid, ar drmd tu do cluasa agus do croide ? An se nac g-cluineann tu gac osna marBtac, a SERMONS OF THE 351 during your drunkenness ! O sinner, if you had heard your Saviour the night before His death, piercing tho very rocks, making them echo the doleful lamentation told by the prophet — Ergo in vacmom laboravi, et vane fortitudinem meam comsumpsi — Isaiah xlix. 4. Hard is My case, says He, My labour is fruitless ; vain are My prayers, vain is My weeping, vain are My tears, — vain My sweat of blood ! Ergo in vacuum laboravú But, Lord, why are You complaining thus ? Why should Your course of sufferings prove useless to You ? Is it not for mankind You are spilling Your blood, and have You not them in recompense ? O, it is true, says He, but what spiritual gain will come to Me from the Turks or Pagans, since they will perish, because they will not believe in Me, nor yield to My sway — Qui non credit in nomine unigeniti filii Dei — John, iii. 18. If it be for tho Jewish people I am carrying the heavy load of the cross, to My grief they are all abandoning Me, and only very few of them will be saved. If it be for Christians I am spilling My blood, the Eternal Truth tells me, though they have been all invited to the enjoyment of heaven, that few indeed of them will come, although the rich feast of glory is prepared for them, very few, say every third man, of them will go to partake of it — Multi sunt vocati, pauci vero electi — Matt. xix. 0, what an object of compassion ! the Saviour of mankind to be lamenting and bitterly weeping for the sins of those who have never shed one tear for their own sins; to see Him crying for, and invoking those who do not as much as answer Him ; stretching out His hands on the cross to those who do not so much as look back at Him — Vocavi et renuistis — Prov. xi. 14. But, 0 eternal Father ! have You shut Your ears and Your heart ; do You not hear 352 MOST BEV. DR. OALLAOHEB. ta aig d’ aon-mac ? An se nac 15-fuil tu air ti caBair no furtact, air bit, a taBairt do ? Oc táim, air Se, cuirfid me amgeal as na Flaitis, aig taBairt misiiig dó — Apparuit angelus de ccelo comfortana eum (Lucoe. xxii., 22). DuBairt an teactaire ainglid so leis, a Rig Neime agua Talman, cad se a Beir tu co dolásaó, tursac so, air son go m-beidead do Páis neam-tairBeac aig mdrán, gid ta cor- criostaid mait ann, a Bainfeas torad agus tariBe aisti; feuc crann so na croice, a ta riain go d-ti so, faoi tar- cuisne, agus faoi mi-niod, beid se feasta, a mdr-meas agua ann ondir air fead an domain. Impirid agus rigte, tigear- naid agus pnonsaid na talman, leigfid siad a g-cordin faoi cosaiB an crainn so, agus racfaid go líiríseal, umal air a ngliimiB aig deanad ádraid agus ondire di j glao 60 , a Tigearna, mar sasad ann do masla — Appamit an- gelus d:c. Act cad se an riactanas a Bi aig amgeal a teact aig taBairt furtacta do ceannfart na n-aingeal, ’n uair a ta se a g-cumact an duine, nios md de sdlas agus d’ furtact tabairt do ’ná an ciiirt amgeal uile ? Ni ’1 an Slánuigteoir aig larraid de sdlás an t-saogail so, act a pais a dul a d-tairBe do ’n cine daona, agus ni tig leis na áingliB sin a deanad, air an adBar nac air a son a d’ fulaing se pais, act air son sinn-ne. Mar sin is air ar láim sinn-ne, amáin, a ta an pais a ddanad tairBeac ; is oranin amáin, a tá se aig larraid sdláis agus compdirt, ann gac pdanaid agus ddlas, a ta se d’ fulaing. Tugamuid sin dd a poBuil Criostaig, go tapaid ; na leigeamuid se a b-pdin nios faide. 0 lot se-san, a croide le grád orainn-ne; tugamuid -ne grad lomlán dd ann agaid ; agus reir mar seil se-san deora fola, de gac ball d’ a corp naomta, air son ar b-peacaid, seileamuid-ne trom-deora na áitrige, aig caoinead a paise agus an peacaid ceadna. SERMONS OF TEE 353 each deadly sigh which comes from Your only-begotten Son ? Are You resolved not to grant Him any comfort or relief ? 0 ! yes, I am, He replies ; I shall send an angel from heaven to console Him — Apparuit angelus de coelo comfortans euni — Luke, xxii. 22^ This angelic messenger said unto Him : 0 King of heaven and earth, why are You so sorrowful and so dejected ? Although Your passion will be fruitless to many, yet there are some good Christians who will derive profit and advan- tage from it. Behold this wood of the cross, which had been ever up to the present held in contempt, shall henceforth be revered throughout the whole world—» emperors and kings, dukes and princes of the earth, shall cast down their crowns at the foot of this tree of the cross, and they shall, in the spirit of humility and obedience, prostrate themselves to pay respect to it. Receive this, 0 Lord, as some satisfaction for Your affliction. But what need an angel have come to comfort the King of angels, when it is in the power of man to give Him more happiness and consolation than all the angelio host ? Our Redeemer required no other consolation than that His passion prove beneficial to mankind j and the angels cannot do this, because it is not for them He endured the passion. He was crucified for us; there- fore it is on our hands alone to make His passion fruitful ; it is of us alone He is craving consolation in all the pains and dolours which He is suffering. Let us return Him that, 0 Christian people, quickly ; let- us not leave Him in pain any longer, as He has wounded His heart for pure love of us ; let us give Him our entire heart in return ; and as he has shed drops of blood from every part of His divine body for our sins ; let us shed heavy 354 MOST BEY. DB. GALLAGEEB. Leanamar Crfost go d-ti so ann an gairdm, leanamuid so anois ann an Barra — nid air a d-tráctfaid me anns an dara punc. An dara pnnc — Óonaircamar Criost air ball, anns an gairdin baitte ann a cuid fola. Cidamuid anois se aig an m-barra, ameasg sladuirid agus gaduidte, agus tri cineal lam g’ a lot ; mar a ta láriia an treatuir do Brait se, láma an Breiteaim a teilg se, agus lama na g-crocaire a cuir ann báis se ; agus sm uile air son peacaid an pobuil — Propter sceluSf &c. Act cia se an duine malluigte so, a fuair aige féin Criost do Brat ? Air n-d(5ig, is Turcac no Págánaó se. Ni feidir a rad nac raiB se nios fuileactaige ’ná na leo- main agus ’ná beataige allta na coille. Oc,^mo truaig a cáirde ni duine is luga ’ná apstol a cuaid aig brat Eig na n-apstol ; ni duine is luga ’ná sagart, a cuaid a’ deanad feille air ard-sagart an doiham ; ni mo ’ná tri Baire 6 d’ árduig a máigistir se a g-céim rigamuil sagartacta, agus tug se cumact do a dul aig teagasg an t-soisgeil air fead an t-saogail ; act ann ait so, a cur ann gniom cuaid se a’ brat agus a’ diol a máigistir, le n-a nariiuid . — Quid vultus milii dare, et ego volis tradaru eum (Matt, xxvi., 15). 0 saint an peacaig malluigte, is lomda slige mi-nadurda a miiineas tu do ’n duine ; is mdr a dall tu an t-apstol so, a cuaid a’ diol Criost, diol saidBreais] an domain air deic b-pigine ficead — Quid vultus milii dare. Sin cugaiB anois Iiídás ann a ceannfart air an sluag malluigte dul aig gaBail Criost, agus mar nac raiB aitne aca air tar na ápstoil, tug se mar comarta ddiB, an ié d’ a d-tiuBarfad se pdg, gur b’ se sm Criost ; agus do rinne mar sm, comarta marBta_agus cogaid, a deir San AiBistin SERMONS OF TEE 355 tears of penance bewailing His passion, and at the same time lamenting for our sins. We have up to this followed Jesus Christ in the Garden; — let us now follow Him to the Tribunal. — This is the second point. Second Part, — We have seen Jesus in the garden bathed in His blood ; we see Him now at the bar among murderers and thieves, and three different sorts of hands wounding Him, and these are the hands of the traitor who betrayed Him ; the hands of the judges who con- demned Him ; and the hands of the executioners who put Him to death, — and all this for the sins of people — FroptQv scdiLS. But who is this wicked person who would presume to apprehend Jesus ? Surely he can be no other than a Turk or a Pagan. Was he not more ferocious than the lions, or the savage beasts of the forest ? Oh ! my brethren, alas, that I have to say it, it was no less a person than an apostle who went to apprehend the King of the apostles I It was no less than a priest who went to betray the High Priest of the whole world ; although it is not more than three hours since his Master con- ferred on him the dignity of royal priesthood, and gave him authority to preach the Gospel throughout the world. Instead, however, of putting all this into execu- tion, he went to betray and to sell his Master to His enemies — Quid vultis mihi dare, et ego vobis tradam eum. — Matt. xxvi. 16. 0 detestable avarice! many an ill- natured project thou hast devised for man. How greatly didst thou not blind this apostle, who went to sell Jesus Christ — to sell the riches of the whole world — for thirty pieces of silver ! ^Quid vultis mild dare ? There comes Judas, the leader of a cursed troop, going to apprehend Jesus ; and as they did not know Him from the apostles, he gave them as a sign, that the person whom he should kiss was Jesus. And has, there- fore, made a signal of murder and of war, says St. 356 MOST BEV. DB. GALLAGEEB, de ’n comart a siotcáin agus comainn 15i riarii roime aig an t-saogal — 0 signum sacrilegium, ubi db osculo, incipi- tur helium et per pads indicium rumpitur pads sacramen- tum. O, a treatiiir malluigte, ni fada go 5-fuair tu an nid a tnill tu, mar a tu tu féin a crocad, agus air n-d<5ig, nfor B-féidir crocaire bud foileamnaige ’ná tu f^m d’ fagail, ann gnioin co tubaisteac leis bo a deauad — Et lagueo se suspendit (^Maít. xxvii., 6.) O, ludais, ludáis, is mdr a mill tu j ni aon ole amain a rinne tu. D’ fagaid tu mar eisiomlair aig an t-saogal, a n-Dia do diol air beagan ; eisiom- lair, IS minic d’ a n-deantar ilsaid. Act cia siad an muintir, do gnid margad co tubaisteac so? A ta, a cáirde, an muintir a diolas a n-anam, cosain co daor so do Oriost, air nid beag, suarac. Diolann fear na sainte, a Slánuigteoir, go mime air nid is luga ’na deic b-pigme ficead. Diolann fear na driiise, an t-Ard-rig air sasad salac mdmeinte. An ié tig aig glacad Coirp an Tigearna air droc-staid, diolann agus bratann se Criost air mod nios gramamla agus nios milltige mile uair ’ná mar rinne ludás — Factus est reus corporis et sanguinis Domini (1 Cor. xi., 27). O, ludais, ludáis, is mdr a mill tu le do droc sompla, faoi an doman. Tar éia an drong malluigte so gaBail Criost, ceanglui- gadar se le teuda agus le slabraid. Oc, cad se an sgeul uatbásac so, Mac De belt ceangailte mar gaduid, beit ’g á streacailt agus ’g á tuargaint air slabraid aig buidean rd- gaind ! Act is se so an ceangal tairbeac aig an g-cine daona, air an adbar, muna m-beit an ceangal agus an cuibre so a cuiread air Criost, beidead sinn-ne air slabraid aig an diabal mar bidmar a riam roiihe — Quia lihertate Chrislu^s nos donavit {Gal. iv., 5). SEBMONS OF THE 357 Augustine, of tlie very signal which has always existed in the world as one of peace and unity — 0 signum sacrilegium uhi ah osculo, incipitur helium, et per pads indicium rumpitur pads sacramentum. O accursed traitor ! it was not long until you obtained the end which you merited, and that was to hang your- self ; and there could not be found an executioner so well adapted to perform this deed as yourself — Et lagueo se suspendit, O Judas, Judas ! what terrible mischief you have done ! It is not one evil you have committed. You have left as an example to the world to sell their God for a mere trifle ; — alas, an example that is often put into practice. But who are those who make so unfortunate a contract as this ? My brethren, they are those who sell for a trifle their souls, which Christ purchased at so dear a rate. The covetous man often sells his Saviour for an amount less than thirty pieces of silver ! The lustful man sells the Sovereign Lord for a filthy pleasure, lasting for a moment ! He who receives the body of the Lord un- worthily, sells and betrays Christ in a manner a thousand times more abominable and more wicked than J a das ever did-^Factus est reus corporis et sanguinis Domini — 1 Cor. xi. 27). O Judas, Judas, you have greatly ruined the world by your bad example. After this wicked band seized Jesus, they bound Him with cords and chains. O what a horrible scene — to see the Son of God bound thus like a thief ! to see Him dragged and tossed about by a gang of villains ! But these are blessed fetters for mankind ; because, were it not for these chains and fetters with which Christ was bound, we would be enchained by the devil, as we have been heretofore — Qida lihertate Christus nos donavit — Gal. iv. 3. 358 MOST BEV. DU. GALLAGHER. A ta dá cineal slabra ann, a deir Diibid an Rig, mar a ta da cmeal slabra na ántola, do gnid sclabaid dinn d’ ar n-droc-claontaib ; agus slabraid na b-pian, mar a ta teine sioruid ’g ar m-bruit, .agus lasraca craosaca ’g ar losgad a b-prísiiín duimsid, dorca, Ifrinn. Maisead, lon- nos go saorfad Criost sinn o gac slabra diob so, ta se fein ceangailte an diu le slabraid. Ta Criost gabta ann a prisiilnac, lonnos go saorfad se sinmne 6 prisidnact — Qu(b libertate Christus nos donavit (Gal. iv., 8). Leanamuis anois an prisiunac rigamuil so, ann a barra go b-feicfid sinn an feoil-cuma a tugad air. Tbigead leis go tig Caipis, cuiread gárda ddbalta air rig na n-aingeal, a b-fiagnuis na n-daoine agus na n-amgeal. Kior leor leo so, tar éis piícóg a cur air, buail siad le dornaib se anns an eudan, agus dubairt siad leis trid sgig agus magad, tomuis, a Criost, cia buail (u — Prophetiza nohis Christe, quis te percussit (Matt, xxvii., 68). Nior fagadar ribe gruaige air a ceann gan tarraing, agus teil- geadar si faoi n-a cosaib, agus mar bárr mioscaise agus tarcuisne do rinne siad rig de trid magad, cur siad cordin spionta air a ceann, agus gas giolcaige mar bata riganiail, ann a láiiii. 0, a Rig Neime agus Talman, is daor a ta tu aig ioc na g-coir nac n-deárnaid tu. 0 maisead, anns an am ceadna a b-fuil na áingle molad Criost anns na Flaitis, aig rad d’ aon beul, molad duit, • a Rig an Doiiinaig, is tu ta beannuigte — Sanctus, Sanctus^ Dominus Dens Sabaoth ‘ — a ta an cine luadaig air talam, air aon gáir aig larraid an duine neaiii-ciontac so, do crocad — Tolle, tolle, cruci- Jige eum (Matt, xxvii.) Fdilligid, a diin-iiiarbuigteorid na feille, cad se is mian lib a deanad ? Nac d-tuigeann sib cia ta agaib ? Nac g-creideann sib gur b’ se Criost, Mac De se, agus an Dia ceadna ta b-Flaitis, air son a dia- SERMONS OF THE 359 There are two sorts of chains, says king David, these are — first, the chains of inordinate desire, that enslave us to our evil inclinations ; and next the chains of pains which are devouring flames, consuming sinners in the dark, dreary prison of hell. Then, in order that Jesus Christ should free us from all these chains. He is Him- self bound, this day, with chains. Christ is taken as a prisoner in order to save us from imprisonment — Quia ibertate Christus nos donavit — Gal, iv. 8. Let us now follow this royal prisoner, till we see the flesh-gnawing treatment He there received. Away He was taken to the house of Caiphas ; a double guard was placed over the King of angels, and that in presence of men and angels ; not content with this, after they had blindfolded Him, they struck Him with their fists on the face, saying, through mockery and derision, “ Prophesy unto us, 0 Christ, who it is that struck Thee” — Pro- pTietixa nobis Cliriste^ quis te percussit ? — Matt, xxvii. 68. They left not a hair on His head which they pulled not and threw, as they could, under their feet ; and for. greater scorn and contempt, they made of him a mock King — they pressed a crown of thorns on His head, and put into His hand a reed for a sceptre. O King of heaven and earth, dearly are you suffering for the crimes you did not commit. Well, at the same time that the angels are adoring Jesus Christ in heaven? by saying with one voice ; “ Praise and benediction bo to Thee, O King of the Sabaoth” — Sanctus, sanctus Bomu nus Beus Sabaoth. The Jewish people on earth are of one acclaim, calling aloud for the death of this innocent Man : “ Let Him be crucified” — Tolle^ tolle, crucifige eum — Matt, xxvii. But stop, 0 you treacherous murderers ! What is this you mean to do ? Do you not perceive whom you have ? Do you not believe that He is Christ the Son of God, and the same God who is in heaven 360 MOST EEV. DB, GALLAGHER. dacta belt an diu faoi brat agus foluigte faoi n-a daonact ? Nac smuameann sib go d-tiocfaid Se 1(5 eigin mar brei- team oraib, agus ma gnid sib droc-beart air an diu go n-atmeaiiirocaid Se se an lo sdd ? Act cad se do beir me a’ caint ? Ni ’1 aird orm ; meud na dibfeirge agus na mioscaise a bi aca cum Criost, dall se a d-tuigse, ni b- fuigtar atrugad de caint uata act “ T(5gtar leis, t(5gtar leis, croctar se” — TolUj tolle, crucijige eum — Jo. xix. 15. 0, pobuil malluid ! ni raib atrugad de muinin agam asaib ; rinne sib mar do gnid an pobul coitceann g-comnuig, se sin, gur deacair a g-cosg air an nid cuirid r(5mpa ; act feucamuid cad se a deanfas na breiteamam leis an b-príosiínac gl(5irinar so — nid air a d-tractfaid me anns an treas punc. An treas punc — Sead, a Slanuigteoir an cine daona, 6 se do toil gac sclabuideact diob so d’ fulairg air sgát peacaid do pobuil — p-opter scelus populi mei — air n-d(5ig, a tá tu sábáilte feasta, 6 d’ fág tu láma an buideain mal- luid. Air n-doig, na breiteamam, d’ ar C(5ir ceart agus comtrom a congbáil d’ uile duine, saorfaid siad tusa o’n daor-bruid ann a b-fuil tu. Ai^t f(5illigid, a cairde, feucamuid air tiis, cia siad na breiteamam a ta air Criost. O, tá Annas agus Caipas, árd-sagairt an pobuil ; Pontius Piláit, riagluigteoir na rigeacta ; na Scriobuidte agus na Pairisinige, doctuirid diadacta agus dlige. Is mait siad, deir leat, 0(5, mo truaig ! ni mait ; ni’l annta uile, deir San Crusostom, act buidean biteamnac. Ta siad dall o n-a b-peacaidib ; ni leur diob a leas ; cuir cireip agus fagaltas saogalta mearad air a n-intinn ; ni’l de riin aca, act an uile toil-eugcóir do deanad air Criost. Measfa nac raib atrugad de barrantas aca act Criost do scriosad d’ á cliu agus d* a anam ann aoinfeact. SEBMONS OF THE 361 although His divinity is this day concealed under a veil and covered in human form ? Do you not advert that He will come on a certain day, as a Judge over you, and that if you ill-treat Him to-day He will make you render an account on that day ? But why do I speak ? They heed me not ; the dint of their rage and fury is now at its height. It has blinded their intellect. There could be no other expression heard from them than “ Away with Him, away with Him ; crucify Him, crucify Him — Tolle. tolle, crucifige eum — John, xix. 15. O wicked people, I had no higher hope of you ; you have dona as a common rabble always do, and that is — they are hard to be put ofE from what they take into their heads ; but let us see in the third part what those judges will do with this glorious prisoner. The Third part — Yes, dear Saviour of mankind, as it is Your will to endure all this cruel treatment for tha sins of the people, I feel sure You are safe now hence- forth, since You have left the hands of that wicked rabble ! I am sure those judges who ought to exact justice and equity from every individual, will release You from the horrid captive state in which You are in. But hold, my brethren, wait, let us see first who these judges are, to whom Jesus is committed. 0 they ara Annas and Caiphas, High Priests of the people, Pontius Pilate, the governor of the kingdom, the Scribes and the Pharisees, doctors of divinity and of human law. They are all very good it may appear to you. Alas ! to my grief, they are not ! There is not a name to be applied to the whole lot of them, says St. Chrysostom, but a band of brigands. They are blind from their sins; they do not discern their welfare. Faction and worldly interest have seduced them into error ; they have no other intention but to pour out all sorts of injury upon Christ. You would imagine that they had no other commission but to rob Jesus both of His reputation and of His life. 362 MOST BEV. DB, GALLAGHEB. Act ceisfc agam oraiB, a Bui3eain ihalluid, cad se mar tig cas Crfost ann Bur latair-se ; cia rinne breiteamam diB air árd-Breiteaiii an domain ; no cia tug cuihact do duine os cionn Dé ? 0, a ta Dia fein, a tug cead lomartais doiB air a Mac, air son peacad an pobuil — Propter scelus populi mei percussit eum. 0, Ard-Brei- teaiih na m-beo agus na marB, má taisbeáin tu d’ umlact agus d’ fogid a riaiii, air n-d. VOCABULARY. Why make ns© of Eomano-Keltic in publishing these ser- mons? How is Irish-Gaelic written ? Answers are contained in the following extract from a letter written on the subject, 27th March, 1877 (1) WRITIXG IN IRISH. The modern letter in use amongst us, sucb as I am penning, can be employed, merely super-imposing tke dot or diacritical point on the letter to be aspirated. When I wrote the “ Col- lege Irish Grammar” I was under the impression, from all I had then heard and known, that the form of letter called the “old Irish character” belonged actually to the Irish race, as special to their written speech, just as Greek letters are special for the language of the Hellenic race. A wider range of reading and greater experience proved beyond all doubt that the “old Irish character,” as such, was old “ Roman’’ the parent of the Anglo-Saxon, and the German, and like them borrowed from the Romans. The Irish and Latin manuscripts, still extant, point out this truth clearly. It is only fair to come to the conclusion that, as the “ old Irish character” is really Roman and the modern so-called “ English letter” is Roman also, therefore, we, to be up to the age, ought, like men of sense, to adopt that letter which is the best, the most pleasing to the eye, the readiest in writing, and that which from practice is to our own hand ready and easy. To supply the required “ dot” or diacritical point in a smooth modern Roman letter is as easy as to supply it on the angular or squared letter known as the “ old Irish character.” This subject is fully discussed in The Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Race and Language,” p.p. 302 to 318, London : Long- mans. (2) SPELLING IN IRISH. Spelling in Irish is uniform — there is no diversity of letter to represent the same sound or phonetic measure of articulate speech. Each vowel receives its natural vocal value. It is TOCABTJLART. S89 troo that aspirated letters must be employed even though not sounded. It is so in English. Take the word “ right,” gh as a diagraph is now-a-days silent. Yet the “ gh” cannot from that English word be omitted, since the letters, or letter, ^for gh is equal tog aspirated only), is a mark of (1) origin and of its radical form j of (2) its philologic power in the European family of languages ; (3) “ gh” marks the term as distinct from the words “rite” or “write,” which represents the same sound, but conveys an idea entirely different from that expressed by the form “ right.” The term “ rig” (ree) means in Irish a king, not unlike “right” in English, and recht, German; “reg” (to rule) ; and rectum, Latin. If “ gh” in right in English is silent and yet, retained as a sign of the origin and of the philologic position of the word, so must the aspirated “g” in “rig,” a king, be retained. So much for the vowels and aspirated consonants in connection with spelling and writing Irish Gaelic. (3) THE USE OF (•) DOT, AND NOT “H.” Eead four arguments against the use of “ h” in Aryan Origin, p.p. 310-313. Also arguments in favor of (.) dot. First, rejection of “h.” (2), Its plastic power of preserving at once the radical conso- nant unchanged in its written form, while it points out the modal change of sound, &c., &c. “ The addition of ‘h’ to the primitive consonants seems,” says Dr Prichard, “only to render it obtrusive, or in other words, to obliterate it (the consonant^.” “ The use of the adventitious “h” after silent or aspirated consonants has been considered objectionable.” — O’Mahony’s (Keating’s) Ireland, preface, p. 14. The phonetic process in Irish called by the name “aspira- tion,” should rather be, save in a few instances, styled soften- ing or mellowing. “ This aspiration or breathing” says Pro- fessor Blackie, “ is the simplest thing for human organs to do. It is not harsh at all but soft, and was one of the commonest sounds in Greek as well as in Gaelic. His fault with Gaelic is that it is softened too much.” Speech át Edinburgh, 1873. To point out this softening influence, a (.) dot is certainly far and away before “h” which is the symbol of all that is rough in articulate speech. (4) A DOT (•), AND NOT “h” OVER ASPIRATED VOWELS. In the sermons, as published in this volume, a dot (.) and not ‘h,” has been made use of to point out an initial aspirated 390 TOCABFLART. vowel, AtidwLy? Because if a clot (•) represents aspiration in consonanls, — a párí, it should represent it in rowels. Uni- formity aud simplicity require its use. (5.) Verbs: If one syllable in root, they are primitive terms and of the first conjugation : — if two syllables, they are deri\a- tive and of the second conjugation. These of the second aro formed from adjs. or nouns, — as crutuig, to create ; from crut, maoluig, to soften; from maol, miuig, to make fine; from min, &c. (6.) Nouns, as a rule, closing with a consonant, preceded by a, 0 , or w, are mas. — they form the gen. sing., and nom. plu. by taking the sound and the sign of the slender vowel i before the consonant, as ‘ball,’ a spot, a member, pi. ‘baill’ ; ‘bád,’ a boat, pi. ‘báid’ ; — gen. sing, is same. Exceptions. — Nouns in ‘óg’, derivatives in ‘act’, as ‘saorsact’, freedom, from ‘saor’ free; ‘milseact,’ from mills, sweet ; names of the senses and members, as ‘lám’, hand, f. ; ‘cos’, f . ; ‘cosa’, plur.; ‘cluas’, ear, f. ; cluasa, ears — See College Irish Grammar» p. 54. A. A, who, which, in which ; where, when. Abaineaca, 1 n. rivers, plur. Aniuaca, J of abain, or aiiiaiu ; Latin, amnis. Abé, ave. Abraid, v. say, — plur. Abrán, n. a song; abráin. Absolóid, n. absolution, — from the Latin. Aca, com. pr. at them, for aig siad. Acara, acres. Acmusán, reproof. Act, but. Adurii, Adam. Adultranas, adultery. Adarc (pr. eye-ark), a horn. Adarta (eyeartha), adoration ; gen. case of adarad. Adbar, cause, pi. ádbair. Adbocóid, advocate — from the Latin. Admuig, V. confess. Adrad, or adarad, adoration. Aei’) n. m. air. Agaib, at you ; to you, from aig, at ; and sib, you. Agaid (pr.eye-eh), face, front; eudau, face. Againn, com.pr., at us ; aig, at ; Sinn, us. Agair, V., entreat. Aganisa, at, or, to me; em- phatic form. Agus, and. Aibid, habit, dress. Aibistin, Augustin. Aice, n, proximity, nearness; as, tarr ann aice, come near ; aun m’ aice, in my proximity, near to me. Aici (for aig, ai; Éi, her), at her. Aicide (gen. case) of sickness; aieid, sickness Aidbéil, prodigious, unseem* ing, boasting, lies. Aidueas, contention, facing one. Aidneasugad, to oppose, to plead, to contend. Aitirt, to avenge ; to turn on one. VOCABULABT, 391 Aifuonn, mass. Aig, at. Ai^e, at him. Aline, n. beauty ; áluinn, beau- tiful. Aiihdeoin, n., notwithstand- ing; aim, 910 Í; deoin, tuiiZ. Aimreidteact, unreadiness ; obstacle ; réid, ready ; reidleacb, readiness. Aim sir, time. Ainfiosac, ignorant ; from an, ‘ not’ ; and ‘fios,’ knowledge — gen. feasa, of knowledge. Ainfios ("an, fios}, ignorance. Aingeal, angel ; pi. amgeala, and ainglid. Aingean, fondness. Aingideact, pain, anguish. Ainriiian, inordinate desire. Ainriiid, a living thing, a creature. Ainmnigtear, is named; root, ainm, ‘nauie’j aiumuig, ‘name thou.’ Air fold form for deir), says. Air, prep., on. Air bit, at all; literally, ‘on life.’ Airc, n., an ark. Airc an connraid, Ark of the Testament. Air ceiste, lest, on the ques- tion that. Aircis, n., care, path ; ann aircis, to meet one; adv. one waits on those one cares for. Airde (root, árd), height. Aireaih, n., count ; v., to count. Air fead, through ; on length. Airgead, n., silver. Airide, adj., certain. Airigim, i reckon. Airistear, is narrated. Airra, arms, pi. of arm. Airmidin, reverence. Airsi, on her. Airugad, to reckon. Aisce, gratis ; as, ann aisce, tn gratiam, for nothing. Aisioc, restitution, Aisti, from her. Aisiir, n., journey. Aite, places. Aiteanta, commandments. Aitiiugad, to enjoin, to com- mj'.ud. Aitreac, change of placo. Aitreabaig, inhabitants. Aitreocad, will change, or mi- grate. Aitiige, n., penance. Aitrigeac, ad-, penitent. Aitris, imitation. Aitristear, is told; narrated; changed. Allód, n., olden time. Alius, n., sweat. Alta, wild ; madad-alta, a wolf; a wild dog. Altóir, n., an altar. Alum, adj., fair. Am, n., time. Amac outwards; to the mag, field. Annul, adj., like. Aiiiáiu (accent on second syl.) alone, as if from ‘a’, in ; mo, a man, a person ; aon, one. Aiharc, V., look ; n., looking, sight. Araeasg, in the midst of; root, ‘a’ in; and ‘measg’ midst, mix. Amlaid, adv., like. Aiiirus, n., doubt; gan arhrus, without doubt. Amud, timber, material. Arnuig, outside. Arsaid, adj., ancient, old, old times, formerly Arus, n., a habitation, dwel- ling. As (pr. ass — s. in Irish sounds always like double s. iullng- lisb), out of, from; Lat. abs, ex. Asal, n. (plural asail) an ass Lat. asellus, Asat, from thee; root, “as,” out of, from ; bu, thee. Asta, or astu, from them, “ as,” and Éiad, them. 392 VOCABULARY. Asteaó, into ; root, “gus,” and teaó,” towards, or into the house. Astig, inside, within — anns an tig : in the house f'tig). Atá (for a and tá), which is, or a emphatic and tá, as a tá, yes, it is Atainne, a live coal. Atar, for atara, of a father; gen. of Atair, Atbeoduig, re-enliven ; root, “ beo,” live. At-óeus, at, re ; óeus, crucify : to crucify again Atcuinge, petition; at, again, cuing, a chain, a tie. Atcumair, a., summary Atiiiaol, reluctance. Atnuagad, v., to renew. Atrugad, i;., to change, chang- ing, a change. At-tuirseac, very tiring, for antuirseaó ; root, tuirse, weariness : torus, a journey, a station Aoibin, delightful, happy Ard aoibin, the delightful height, pleasant mount. Aoibneas, delight, happiness Aois, fern., age. Aos, m., a class, those of a cer- tain age, as ‘ an t-aos óg,’ the young people. Aon, one; old form, aen ; Greek “ en” ; Latin, unum. Aonaig (gen. of aonaó^, a fair, a gathering ; “ aon,” one, to gather to cue. Aoufeact (aon, one, feact, an actj, along with Aonmad (with deug) eleventh ; as ‘an t. aonmad la deug,’ the eleventh day. Apstol, n. an apostle. Ar (pr. áwr), destruction Ar (pr. urhj, our Aracais, way, meeting ; as^ ann a aracais, to meet him ‘aircis’. Aráu, n. bread Ard, adj. high. Ardaib, heights, quarters ; dat. plural. Ard-stiurigteoir, supreme di- rector Arduig, to raise, elevate Ardugad, ver. n. a raising, ele- vating, elevation, the act of elevaÚng, or the thing raised. Argaiu, destruction, robbing, plundering (root, ‘ ár.’) Ariaih, ever, up to present time ; ‘sior,’ ever, perpetual ; ‘go brát,’ ever; ‘go deo,* ever — to th'e last breath. Aris, again; commonly pro- nounced, asif‘t’ were an- nexed, ‘ arist.’ Arm, arm, a protection. Armáilte, 'partc. armed. Armúr, armour An, art. the , pZitr. ‘ na,’ the. An, an intensive particle Anáil, breath ; Latin anhelo. Anal], hither; over to this side; anon, over yonder. Anbas, sudden death, from an intensive, and ‘ bás,’ death. Andiu, adv. to-day ; ‘ ann,” in ; and ‘ diu,’ old form of dies (day). Anfaun, adJ. very weak ; root, ‘ fann,’ weak. Anflaiteas, tyranny. Augbaid, ii., anguish. An-gnotuideac, very busy. Anmianta, n. bad desires ; plur. of ‘ aumian,’ an over-desire. Ann, in. Aunaib, com. pro. in you, for ‘ann,’ and ‘ib’ (for ‘sib’) you. Annainn, in us ; root, ann, and ‘ Sinn,’ we. Annat, in thee ; ‘ ann,’ and ‘tu,’ thou Anus an, in the ; ‘ s’ is annexed to ‘ ann,’ in, for sound be- fore vowels, like ‘a, ab,’ be- coming ahs, Latin. Anuti (ann éí), in her. Anois, adv. now. Anonn (see análl), yonder. Auró, n. misfortune. Ansa, adj. dearer; comp. irr. from ‘lonmuin,’ dear, be- loved. TOCABULART, 303 Anapioraid, pZ. evil spirits. Antoil, self-will, over-will. Antrát, too late, beyond time. Annas, down, from above. There are two words in Gaelic for the English terra ‘ down.’ ‘ Tarr annas,’ come down, come from above j ‘ téid SÍOS,’ go down. B. The natural sound of * b ’ is same as in English. Its af- fected sound in composition or after the possessive pronouns or prepositions is ‘ v.’ or • w.’ No consonant in its natural state is affected or aspirated when beginning a word. When b aspirated commences a word, as ‘ b-fuil rne,’ am I, some particle, preposition or pronoun precedes as ‘ b-fiiil me,’ is for ‘an b-fuil me,’ whether am I. * B-farras,’ for ‘ a b-farras,’ comparison of, compared to. Bacac, adj. lame ; root, ‘ bac,’ a hindrance. Bagartaca adj, pi threatening. Bagairt (or bagradj, threat, 17. to threaten. Baibilion, n. Babylon Baile-atu-óliat, Dublin ; ‘ baile’ town ; ‘ ata,’ of a ford ; ‘ cliat, hurdles. Baile, Greek, “ Pol-is,” Latin, villa, a town. Bailte, pi. of bade, villages, towns. Bain, reap, pull, to take, ‘baint coirce,’ cutting oats; ‘ baint fotaid,’ digging potatoes; ‘baint mona,’ cutting turf. Spelled also ‘ buain,’ to pull reap ; see, buain. Bainne (from ‘ ban,’ white), milk. Bain-prionsa, princess ; tee, ban, infra. Bain-riogan, queen. Baisde, or baiste, baptis 11 Báitead, was drowred; root, ‘bát,’ death ; same as ‘ bás,' death. Balb, adj. balbus, lalbutienSf Latin, dumb. Ball, plur. baill, a spot. Ballaid, pi. ofballa, walls. Baltasar, Baltassar Bán, adj. white; ‘ban,’ or ‘bam,’ a form of bean, a woman, used in composition of words as “ faid,’ a prophet ‘ beau- fáid,’ a proplietess. Ban-naoiiii, female saints. Baogal, n. danger Baogalaige (from baogalad, dangerous), more dangerous Bai'cinta, n. warranty, surety. B.irbaract, n. barbarity. Barr, summit, top, crop. Barra, tops, bars, tribunal. Bar rain, in comparison with. Bag, n: death. Báspus, n terror; root, ‘bás,* death. Bata, a stick ; Fr. baton. Beac, n. bee ; nom. plur. beaóa. Beag, adj. little ; com. irregf ‘ nios luga’ ; Latin, pauc-a. Beagán, a little. Beag-luacmar, worthless ; beag little, and luac, a price. Bealac, n. a way. Bean, 71, a woman. ‘Ban’: “ -^olic,” Greek ; Latin fern in femina, also ‘ven’ in Vt-nus; ‘ bean’ may be sup- posed to come from ‘be,’ ex- ist, live; or ‘bit’ life, and “an’’ fulness, perfection, completion, beauty. Bean-feadina, a handmaid. Beann,apeak, Latin pinna; plur. ‘ binn,’ and ‘ beanna.’ ‘ Bens’ and ‘ pens’ abound in Caledonia, and from Ben- Nevis to the A-pennines. Baannuigte, p. par. blessed; from ‘ oeannuig,’ bless. Bean-tigearna, 71. lady, womaa lord. Bóarfad, v. I will bring i.eata, life; Latin, viia 394 VOCABULARY. Beir, V, Latin, /er, Eng. bear, bring. Beit, a being j plur. ‘ beitid,’ beings, creatures, beasts; birch ; Latin hetula. Beitideac, a beast; plur. ‘bei- tidig,’ beasts. Beo, adj. alive Beodas (pr. byo-yas), liveliness Beul, 71. mouth ; Greek, “ bélos,” Beusaib, dat. pZ, manners B.facas (after ‘ nac’), did I not see, interrog.] (after ^go’) that (conj.) I saw; irreg. v. from ‘ feuc,’ behold No radical word or any term in its absolute state is aspirated. Aspirates and eclipses are affected forms, brought about by articles or prepositions preceding those words which they affect, B-farras, in comparison B-fuigead, would get; from ‘fág procure, find, get. B-fuil, is, are, am, art. Bidd (pr. beea), food. Bid, V. is in being, exists BideaSjper md. was; from verb ‘ bi,’ be thou Brnn, and beanna, peaks, cliffs, pZur. of ‘ beann,’ a cliff; ‘ binn’ is also sing., as ‘ binn an tige,’ gable of house Binne, sweetness Biun, n. heed, care, attention regard. Bum, adj. harmonions. Binn-glórac, adj. sweet toned. Biodgad, 71. life-peril. Biotáille, 7^., whiskey. Bit (air), 71., as, ‘ dome air bit,’ any body ; literally, man in life, or being on earth; on life ; as adv., at all. Blaoidte, p. part., called. Bias, 71. taste. Blaspénne, 7i. blasphemy ; a borrowed word from the Greek. Bliadain, n., fern, a year. BÓ, a eow ; lat. bos. Bo6t, adj., poor ; nios boióte, poorer. Boctanacb, n., poverty Bog, adj., soft; nios boige, softer. Borb, adj., fierce; gen. mas., boirb ; gen. fern., boirbe ; also, compar degree, as ‘ nios b( 1 be,’ more fierce. Boirbe, (abstract noun), fierce- ness. Boise, gen. sin., of a hand, the palm, from ‘ bos.’ Bordaib, dat. plu., tables ; from bord ; plur., bond. Bradac, adj., wicked, thievish. Brait, V; to betray. Braou, 7i., a drop. Brat, 71., covering. Bratadóir, n., betrayer. Breág, (pr. bryah), fine; ‘la breág,’ fine day. Breatnugad, to remark, to perceive ; from breatuuig (impei-at.) observe, — root, ‘ breat,’ to judge, of the same class with ‘ brat,’ judgment, and ‘ breit.’ Breis, 71., fern. loss. Breit, 71., judgment. Breit, to bring. Breiteam, 7i , gen. case, brei- teamau, also bretim, a j udge. Breiteamnas, 7i. judgment. Breoiteact, n., ailing, sickness ; ta me breoite, “I am, or feel, sickly.” Breuga, plur., lies; sing., breug. Breugac, ad., lying. Breugugad (root, breug, a lie), to deceive, to cajole, to fiatter, to charm with forms or words not resting on realities. Breun, ad , (Greek, “Bromao”) offensively rotten. Breuutas, 7i., ni. rottenness. Briut ar, 7i, ui., word. Brice, brick; plu. bricid. Bag, 71., force ; ‘ de brig,’ be- VOCABULARY. 395 crnise, adv.y from the force of. Bngrhar, efficacious ; root, * brig,’ substance, force, in- nate power, strength. Brimstoin, brimstone (not Irish) Bris, break ; Latin frango. Brisead, n. or u., breaking Brodaiiila, adj. 'p^ur. proud; root, ‘ bród,’ joy, pride, plea- sure. Broinn, dot. case womb; from ‘ bru,’ womb. Bronn, n. bestow. Bronnad, inf. to bestow. Brontanas, something bestowed — a gift. Brosduigeann, urges, incites. Brostuigte, urged, incited, driven on. Brot, a mote, a trifle. Bruac, n. border. Brudar, n. brutishness, foul- ness, a stain Bruid, n. slavery. Bruideamail, beastly. Bruidneac, adj., brutal Bruigte, bruised. Bruit, boiling ; ‘ brulte,’ boiled; ‘ tá na faitid bruitte,’ the potatoes are boiled. Buabal, n. bugle. Buacal, n. boy. Buaide, of victory; gen. of ‘buaid;’ *abú,’ in victory, as O’Donnell a hoo — O’Don- nell ‘a bú.’ Buainnean, n. deprives ; pre- sent tense of ‘ buain,’ take away, reap, dig, &c., (see ‘ bam.’) Buairt, n. affliction Buana, plur. of ‘ buan,’ endur- ing. Buanas, n, durability. Buarta troubled Bud, was ; p. tense, ‘as’ or ‘is,’ it is. Buide, adj. yellow. Buideac, thankful. Buidbacais, thanks : as ‘beirim mile buideacas duit a ttg- earna,’ I gi^e thee a thou- sands thanks, 0 Lord: Buidéal, n. bottle. Buille, a stroke Bnime, a nurse. Bulán, a bullock. Bunn, n. ifLatin fundus) , lowest part, sole, foundation ; ‘bunn na spéire,’ the hoii- zon’s rim ; ‘ bunn mo coise,’ sole of my foot. Bantáiste, advantages, profit. Bur, plur. your Bus, future time of ‘is,’ ‘as,’ ‘ ba;’ it is rarely used and then for ‘ beideas,’ wid be, future emphatic. Bus, this side, in a state of rest; ‘a tá se a bus,’ it is here on this side, and not ‘tall,’ the opposite side; ‘ awonn, agus anall,’ thither and hithei’, are used when motion is intended ; ‘a bus agus tall,’ when simply a state of rest is expressed ; * a bus’ is a contraction for ‘ab-fogus,’ proximity, here, near;‘fogus’ means near. c. No initial consonant in its natural state is aspirated; ‘ Cum,’ towards, or for a pur- pose is aspirated, because the term is really a noun — signi- fying ‘circuit,’ or waist; ‘cum,’ preposition, is a con- traction for ‘ de cum,’ meaning, for the purpose of getting about a thing — for the end or purpose, &c. So ‘ ceanna,’ already ; for ‘ ó ceanna,’ from the start. Ca, what, where. Cabar, n. help. Cad, what ? why ? ‘cad se,’ what it? Cadas, n. friendship ; friendly aid. 396 TOCA^FLARY. Cadranta, contentions, obsti- nate; ‘cadrair/ contention. Caibidil, n. f. chapter. Cailc, n.f. chalk ; Latin, calx. Cailiseacnib, chalices ; plural of ‘ cailis,’ a chalice. Cáilideact, n./. virtue, attri- bute; root, ‘ call,’ character, or qualitas, Latin : as if ‘ cailitas.’ Call I, n. loss Caillead, losing, the amount lost; root, caill, v. lose. Cailin, n. a girl ; diminutive of ‘cáile,’ a woman, a virago : so called from wearing a sqnare cloak like to that worn by men. Cáin, n. f. fine, punishment, dispraise, censure ; ‘ cáíneac,’ dispraising — making little of anything; ‘ na mol, agus na cáin tu féin,’do not praise, and do not censure thyself. Cáineac, adj. dispraising Caineal, n. channel Caint, n.f. (Latin, canto), talk; hence ior vulgar English the term, “ cant.” Cáirde, plu. friends ; see ‘ ca- rad.’ Cairgeaóa, plu. rocks ; see ‘ carai^.’ Caisg (Latin, pasc/ia), Easter. Caisleán, n. castle Cait, r. act., cast away, fire, spend, go through, quaff, waste, consume, smoke — ‘cait beata naoiiita,’ lead a holy life; ‘ cait uait, agus teit,’ cast it from thee and hasten; ‘cait sios se,’ throw it down, also drink oflf ; ‘cait urcar,’ cast a throw or shot; ‘cait gall de ’n b-píopa/ take a blast of the pipe. Caitreaca,’ plu., cities. Caitréim, n., high power ; root, ‘cait,’ of battle — ‘ réim,’ sway. Caitiid se, he must; root, ‘cait,’ cast; future form, ‘ cait fid me,’ I mustj ‘caitfid tu,’ thou must, &c. Cam, adf., crooked ; Latin, cam- ^lr^ts and camus ; also Greek, “ Kam-po ;” ‘ camái/ a hurl ; ‘cainog,’ a turn on the end of a stick; ‘cosa cama,’ crooked, feet. Camra, n. receptacle. Can, to sing ; ‘ do can,’ he sang ; Latin, cxn-o. Cantici, Latin, pZnr., canticles Caoid, V. n., crying Caoiuead, v. to cry. Caoire,pZ., sheep. Gaol, adj., slender. Caonduract, n. devotion; root, ‘ caon,’ gentle ; and ‘ dúraót,' earnestness. Car, a friend ; Latin, earns ; also par, an equal. Carad, n., a friend ; plu., *ca. rada.’ contr., ‘ cáirde.’ Caradas C carad,’ a friend), friendship ; Latin, caritas. Carcair (Latin), a prison ; career, pr. carker. Caraig, /. gen. (‘ caraigé’) a rock ;pZwr., ‘ caraige,’ strong form ‘ cai-aigeaca,’ and by contraction ‘ cuirgeaca.’ Cavtanact, n.f., charity. Cás, n. 711 ., a case. Cas, V., twist, turn, twirl. Casad, n. v., twisting. Casad an t-súgáin, twisting of the rope. Casáii, n. m., a foot-path ; root, ‘cos’, foot, for coián. Casaoid, /., a complaint, a case, to bring a case against one; root, ‘cás,’ and ‘caoid,’ lament, cry. Cásga (gen. of cáisg), of Easter. Casgairt, mangled. Casta, placed. Cat, in., a cat ; gen. ‘cait’, and ‘cult’ short sound of a. ; cad se dérnfcid mac ‘cult,’ act loc a iharbugad; what will the sou of a cat do, bub to kill a mouse. — Proverb. TOCABUiART. Cáí;, p:en. ‘caia’, n. m., ‘catui*,’ to fitiht, to tempt ; ‘catugad/ fighting, temptation; na léig Sinn a g-cátugad,’ lead us not into temptation. ‘So-óat,’ victorious in battle — St. Patrick’s name at Baptism. Catair, n. a city. Cataoir, , a chair. Catoiliceac, a Catholic. Cati ac, gen. case of catair, a city. Catuigte, plu., temptations. Ceacl, 71., leave ; L. cedo. Ceadna, same (pr. ‘keanna, dn=nu’). Ceaduig, v., permit. Ceaduigte, p. part., permitted. Cealgac, adj , wily, deceitful. Cealguig, V., deceive by wiles tricks. Cealgiigad, n. v., enticing, the act of deceiving. Ceana, adv., already, from the start, before, formerly, moreover ; root, ‘ceaiin’, lead, front, start. — C, initial is asp. by a preposition understood. Ceannas, n. in., authority, headship; root,- ‘ceann,’ head; ‘nos,’ manner, state. Ceangal, n., a bond. Ceanginl, also ceangluig, v., tie, bind. Ceanglugad, v. inf., to tie, to bind. Ceann (plur. cinn, and ceanna) head. Ceannaidte, n., merchants, pedlars. Ceannuig, v., buy, purchase. Ceannasac, adj., povveriul; root, ‘ceannas,’ and ‘ceann.’ Cearn, a quarter, a pile. Ccart, 11 . right (L. ceri- us) ; adj right. Ceata, showers; pi. and gen. singl. of ‘Clot,’ a shower. Ceatracad, forty. Ceatraideac, ad., with repug- nance, oddly, at angles. 397 Cealrailina, quarters ; plur. of ceatram ; gen. sing, ceal- raiiian ; root, ‘ceatar,’ four. Ceil, V. (L. cel. celo), conceal. Ccilt, n., hiding, concealing; ‘ceilt’, ono in a nude state, so called perhaps owing to the fact that man when nak^d hides; ‘geilt’, a naked creature, a wild man. Céiin,/. a step, a grade, high position; cois-céim, a foot- step; árd-ceim, high grade. Ccist, gen. ceisté, question. Ceiste (air), lest, on the ques- tion that, lest that, for fear that. Ceitre (L. quatuor), four. Ceo, n., mist, fog. Ceylta, n., songs; plur. of ceol, music {^College Gram., p. 73. Ceudfaid, pi., organs of sense, sight, smell, hearing, touch, taste. Ceud-gein, first-born, first- begotten. Ceusud, V. to crucify ; root, ‘ceus’, a crucifix. Ceusadóir, n., one who cru- cifies. Cia, (sound of ia is eea), L. qui, who. Ciall, n. fern., intelligence; ciallaid, adj., a seusible person. Ciai óg, 71./., a clod, a chafer; from ‘ciar,’ black, a black coal ; ‘ciai án,’ a black clod, a man’s name. Hence Kiai au : ‘ciar’ signifies not only a black, (not a buruing) coal but a ‘comb’ aud ‘Kiarau’ ; as a name is trans. lated. Comber. This is in- correct. Kiaran is the name of a famous iiatiouai saint. — H e n c e Maol-Kiardin, ‘Mulkerrin,’ or one ‘Alaol’, wearing the tonsure for, or devoted to Kiarau. Mulhern is not the correct form, — ‘hern,’ comes, rather from ‘tigearna,’ lord. 398 VOCABULABT. Ció, g. breast, nipple; *a dml ció suckling the breast ; * uót’ is breast, and ‘cúb,’ the breast with head bent ; n. s. ‘cíoó.’ Cidfid me, I will see; root, ‘ Old,’ see. Cimeac (root, * cim,’ fetters), captive, Cincísé, Pentecost; Keltic sound of Quiuquagesima, 50. Ciueál, 71., kind, sort, class, clan ; root, ‘ cinn,’ head, race, kiu ; *ál,’ brood, offspring; pr. ‘ Kinawl,’ as ‘ cineál Eoin,’ the raceofEoin. Cinne, races, peoples, gentes ; ‘ cinne Scoit,’ the gens or race of Scotia. Cinnte, adv. certain ; root * cinn,’ head — brought to a head. Ciocrac, adj. hungry, devouring, rabid. Ciocras, n. raging hunger Cionnfata, primary cause ; root, ‘ cionn,’ head, and ‘ fát,’ cause, reason. Cionn (os), above, overhead ; from ‘os,’ on — ‘cionn,’ head Ciontuig, accuse, charge, cri- minate. Ciontac, adj, guilty ; ‘ cionn,’ head or cause — one to whom as head or source the effect is to be ascribed, Ciuin, adj. gentle. Clann, children. Claoclugad, v. to change, weaken, annihilate. Claoidead, inf., from ‘ claoid,’ weaken, defeat, subdue, bring low ; 71. defeat ; Latin clades, defeat. Claoinearadaca Claon (Greek, “ KIiné”), in- clined; Latin, in-clino. Clár, 71. a board, table; ‘clár- eudain,’ boarcl-of-face (the forehead). Cle, left; ‘ lám clé,’ left hand ; ‘ taob clé,’ left side. Cleactac, adj. accustomed. Cleaebas, ti. use, practice. Clóir, n. clergy ; 'an óléir,’ the clergy. Cliab, n.fem. the breast, the ribs. Cliab, a basket. Cliaban, a cradle ; from ‘ cliab,’ because, like a basket, it is of wicker work. Clis, V. to fail; ‘ na chs orm,’ do not fail on me. Clit, adj. closo, just, apt; n. connexion. Cliú, /. fume; Greek, “ Kleos,” Latin, inclytus. Cliabuin, n. son-in-law ; root, ‘cliab,’ breast, bosom Clóca, 71. 771. cloak. Cloca (pi. of cloc), stones. Clod-biialad, to imprint; ‘cló,’ type ; ‘ buail, strike. Cloideam, ti. m. sword; root, ‘ claoid,’ destroy, cub off, broken ; Latin gladius. Cloigceann, head, skull ; ‘cloig- ceann caorac,’ sheep’s head : as if ‘cloig,’ bell, clock; ‘ceann,’ head Clos, V. ir. to hear; ‘aig clos,’ listening: ‘cluas,’ ear Clós-cáin, tribute Cluain, a retired spot, a lawn. The prefix of many names of places in Ireland ; Latin clivum, the brow of a hill. Cluasa, ears: pi. of ‘cluas’; root, ‘clos,’ to hear; “ kluos” Greek, fame. Clúid, 71. /. a corner, recesses ; Latin clud-o, to set, to fix in one place. Clúidionna, pZ. recesses, cor- ners. Cluin (Greek, “ Kluo”), to hear; same as • clos.’ Cnáih, 71. m. bone. Cnada, n. pi. wounds Cneadad, wounding, swooning, pining, dying. Cneasda, adj. honest Cneastacta,gren. case of honesty. Cnéis, n f. skin, cutis, the ex- ternal part of the skin ; TOCaBULARY. 399 * creacan* is the skin itself, as a whole, or as a covering. Cnoc, n. m. hill. Cnúdóg n. f. maggots. Co, in composition, is same as the Latin con, together j it is spelt ‘ co’ and ‘ com.’ Co, conj. as, so. Co, in composition, or ‘ co’ in conjunction, should not be aspirated ; however, *co’ (as, so), is for sake of distinction aspirated. Co-buatread, (^co,’ and *buai- read,’ to trouble, to affect, to grieve), contending so as to injure or hurt one ; sedition, insurrection, tribu- lation. Co-cruinniugad, n. gathering together ; root, ‘ cruinn,’ round lumpy, bulk. Codlad, n. sleep. Cófra, n. coffer Cogad, n. m. fight. Cogal, n. m. tares Coidce, ever, for ever. Coingiallaige, conditions, pro- mises; ircm ‘ coing,’ bind- ing, ‘ geall,’ a promise. Coinseas, n. conscience. Coir, adj. just; n. justice (ó pr. long.) Coir, n. a crime (‘o’ in coir, a crime, is short.) Coirce, n. oats Coirid, n. boilers: pZw. of ‘ coire,’ a caldron, a large kettle, a boiler, a hollow cavity. Coirneul n corner. Coirtib, (daf. of ‘coir’) crimes. Cois (kosh), dot. sin. foot : gen. ‘ coise (kosheh) of ‘cos.’ Coisde, n. f. a jury, a trial Coisir, n. /. a choir Coisreag, v. bless thou Coisreagad, v. inf. to bless; root, ‘ crois,’ hence ‘ croisea- gad,’ and by metathesis of ‘r,’ the liquid letter, ‘cois- reagad.’ Cóiste, a coach ; ‘ cóiste bodar,* the deaf coach, the fairy coach. Coitóean, adj. common, hence kitchen. Colan, n. /. body : gen. ‘ colna,* pr. colla, for ‘ colana.’ Columan, a pillar, the head; Latin, columna; aigeolaman ino leapta,’ at the head of my bed. Coriiair, n. presence, front; ‘ os comair,’ a prep., before, as ‘os comair an domain,’ before the world — See CoZ- lege Irish Grammar. — p. 162. Comartaib, dat. ^lur. marks, signs Coinbraic, contention from ‘ CO,’ and ‘ brae,’ an arm ; ‘coriarac,’ same. Comlionad, to fulfil ; root ‘ lion,’ fill. Comnuide, abode, rest, adu., meaning ‘always’ — as ‘a g-coiimuide aig irrraid,’ always asking ; ‘go sior,’ perpetual ; ‘go brát’, means to the day of (brát) judg- ment : Eire go brát — Ireland for ever. Comnuige, abode, rest ; ‘ ca b-fuil tu do comnuige,’ where are you residing ? where do you live ? ‘comnuige,’ rest- ing, at rest, signifies ‘not employed,’ ‘out of work’, as ‘ta me ’mo comnuige,’! am out of work, at rest. Com-oibrugad, v. to co-ope- rate. Comóra, 1 Exalted respect ; Comórad, / root, ‘ co,’ as, and ‘ mór,’ great. Compáuac, a companion. Compóirt, n f comfort Coinrad, n (‘ com,’ together, and ‘ rád,’ speaking), conver- sation Comvádaid, comrade. Comtaót, companionship, to- gether j root, ‘ teac,’ house. 400 TOCABULART. or * fcei*,’ go, and * coiii,’ with. Cuideaót, together : from ‘cuid,* a share ; as we say, in cc> Comainn, n. (gen. case of ‘co- ' mann,’ for ‘ cnmann), society, affection, obligation Comuisg, V mingle Coihursa, nf neighbour ; root, ‘com,’ and ‘ ursa,’ a door- post, one who lives next door; gen ‘ coiii-ursan,’ pZur. ‘comursanna Conairc, per tense act of ‘ feic,’ see. Congnani, help; root, ‘con,’ and ‘ goioria,’ act Conocad, will keep : from ‘cong- bail.’ Conrad (root, ‘cong,’ bond, binding : ‘ rád,’ a speech), an agreement Consgrudad, to examine, to pry into: ‘sgrudad consiais,’ examination of conscience. Contabairt, n danger; root, ‘cong,’ and ‘ tabair,’ brin marry Pósta, married Potáire, m drunkard Priom, adj principal, first ; Lt. primus. Prioin-leigean,^ first lesson. Priom -subailcid, chief virtues. Prionsa, n prince. Pnosún, m prison Pronn, v to bestow : * pronnta,' bestowed. Púca (puck), an elf; a sprite, a ghost. Púdar, n dust, powder. Puibliocánac, m publican. Puinc, pi divisions, points Pune, m a point. Punt, m pound: ‘nota puint,’ a pound note. Purgadóir, / purgatory. K. Raba,/ warning Eád, to say ; ‘ ráidte,’ sayings. Rarb, inter, was Raite, quarter, Rann, verse Rann-páirteac, participating. Rásúr, m razor Rat, m luck, state : gen. * rata ‘ droc-rat,’ bad luck : * deag- rat,’ good luck. Re, with, and ‘reis,’ with (see ‘ le,’ with.) Réagún, m region. Réasúu, m reason Reasúiias, sense, judgment Réid, adj ready. Réir, to accord, to agree, to settle, to soothe. Rrar, the same, also to support, to nourish, to feed, to serve. Réir, p:ep. according toj for ‘ de réir,’of accord. Reub, V to tear. Reulta, stars : plur. oi ‘reul,’ a star. Riactanaó, adj necessary. Riactanas, n necessity Riani (a), ever, up to this ; *go deo,’ ever to the last breath ; *go sior,’ ever to come. Rib (for ‘ lib’) with them Ribe,/ a hair Rig, n king, Rigaót, / kingdom Rigamail, adj kingly. Rinne, did j per. tenseof * déan,’ do. Riogda, kingly, royal. Robail, V to dress to robe. Ro-cruaid, very hard. Rod, n road. Roirh, prep, before Roime, before him : for ‘ roim,* áe. Roimpi, before her; ‘roiih,’ and *éí.’ Roinn, V. to divide. Róistinib, dat.plur. gridirons. Romanaig, plu Romans. Rompa, before them Ruagaire, m from ‘ruag,’ to drive, to rush from place to place — one who goes about living here and there. Ruagaire rata, vagabond Rug, from * breit,’ to bear to carry, to bring forth, Ruibe, sulphur Ruinn, V to part Rún, m resolution. Runaig, m a secret keeper. Rún-diamar, a divine secret, a mystery. Rún-diamaraó, mysterious. 422 VOCABULARY. S. SOME PEINCIPLES OP PHILOLOGY. First, — In Irish-Gaelic, as well as in Latin, and in Sanskrit, the presence of “s,” initial, is proof that the language which retains it, as compared with a kindred speech in which it is not found, or in which it has assumed the secondary sound represented hy “h,” possesses still its primitive potency. Second, — A language in which the sound of “s,” initial, has been either lost, or has been altered to the secondary sound, shown by “h,” has fallen away from its pristine power, and aa a speech shows so far signs of decay. Third, — A language, as far as it exhibits signs of the loss of *%’ initial, in words which should naturally present that sound, presents proofs of incipient decay. .These three principles are agreed to by all philologists. They are sound in sense, and philosophic in practice and theory, because decay is always subsequent to perfect develop- ment, just as sickness is a falling off from health. To be in health or to be sound is natural j it is the normal effect of perfect development j — to be sick, is a falling away from that state, and therefore cannot precede it. So it is with decay in languages ; it comes after not before fulness of development. Eead chapter VIII., of the Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Race and Language. LATIN. GAELIC. WELSH. GBEEK. Sal, Salann, Halen, Hals. Senex, Sean-aois, Hen, Henos. Somnus, Suan, Hyn, Hypnos. Sedes, Suid, Heddu, Hedos. Sol, Solus, Heul, Helios. Sic, So, Hyn, Ho, he. »* So, su. 99 Eu. a Do, 99 Dus. Observe — The Latin and Irish-Gaelic hold to “s," initial, — Greek and Welsh have lost it. See in page 188, Aryan Origin^ about two hundred words beginning, in Irish, with “a”; with “h” in Welsh. TOCABULARY. 423 Is Irish-Gaelic showing any signs of decay? None, except in a few words. For instance in the third person singular and plural accusative of the pronoun “se,” he, it; “si,” she, it; ‘giad,’ they, them ; and the demonstrative pronoun “ud,” that, for ‘‘sud,” and the preps, “ios,” for “sios,” “uas,” for “suas.’’ “Se,” is found “é,” in the accusative ; “si,” “i” ; “siad,” they — “lad.” That is decay so far. In the present volume, the editor restores the pronouns to their natural healthful state, to “áe,” “ái,” “éiad.” To be displeased with the editor, for restoring the pronouns, “é,” “Í,” “lad,” to their full form, is pretty much the same as if one were displeased to see a lame man walk upright, or a sick man become sound: — ‘uaa’ becomes *suas,’ or ‘áuas.’: ‘los,’ sios’ or ‘éias.’ Sábail, V to save, n saving; ‘sábail De orainn,’ the Lord save us : lit. God’s saving on us. Sábailte, p saved. Sacramuint, / sacrament Sagart, m priest ; Latin sacer- dos. Saic, m a sack ; same in most European languages. Saidbir, adj rich Saidbrios, m riches Saigead, m an arrow ; Latin, sagittum. Sail, /. willow: the sally; ‘ saileog,’ / same. Saileaó, abounding, in wil- lows. There are places named Saileac and Sailean, from the willows, that abound in the districts. Sáil, / salt sea. Sáilin, / a portion of sea or lake. Sam, adj. pleasant : Latin, suave. Saime, pleasantest Sáime, f abstract nourij plea- sure. Saint, / covetousness. Sáit V push, shove, force. Salt, n enough ; Latin satis ; ‘ mo sáit,’ my enough Sal, m filth. Sál, m heel ; * saltairt, to dance, to jump : L. saltare. Salac, adj filthy : from ‘sal,* Salacar, m uncleanliness. Salan, m salt. Saluig, V to defile. Samlugad, m a pretence, sem- bling. Santuig, -w, from ‘ saint,’ to covet. Saogal, m world ; Latin smeu- lum. Saogalta, adj worldly. Saoire, nf freedom, holy days ; ‘lá saoire,’ a day of freedom — a holy-day Saor, adj free, cheap. Saorfad, fut will free Saorsa, / freedom Saorsact, f freedom Sár, a prefix, or radical term, denoting superiority, from * so,’ good, and ‘ ar,’ growth, excellence. ‘ Mait,’ good : ‘ sár-mait,’ exceedingly good. Sárnigeas, overcomes, surpasses, annoys Sasam, m satisfaction Sásta, satisfied Scála, bowl, scale, beam Scanal, m scandal Scanalaó, adj scandalous. Soanrad, n frightening 424 VOCABULABY. Scát, m shadow, under the shadow, protection. Scátan m a lookingr-glass, mir- ror : from ‘ scat,’ shadow, image. Sciaiiiac, adj beauteous, pleas- ing. Sciorrad, m a short run, run- ning. Scmrad,i; scour, cleanse Sciúrann, v scours, scourges. Sciúrsa, m scourge. Scláb, m a slave. Sclabact, f slavery Scoil,/ school Scread, n a cry ; v cry Scrios, n destruction, v de- stroy. Scriosadóir, m destroyer. ScT-iptiur, n scripture Scrúdugad, n examination. Se, he, it; ‘se’ (affected for m^, he it, him, it. Seac, apart: Latin seco, English sex, sect. Seacain, to avoid : root, ‘ seaó,’ and ‘ fan.’ Seacnugad, v inf to avoid, avoiding Seacob, m Jacob. Seacrán, m a path apart (seaó) from the right one, stray- ing, wandering. Sealb, / a herd, a drove, pos- session. Sealbuig, v possess. Sean, adj old in composition. Sean-buaóailhd, dat ;pl. old boys. Seanmóir, n a sermon, from the Latin sermo. Seanmórtaidte,pí preachers. Sean-ract, / old law. Searb, adj bitter ; Latin seve- rus. Searbfbntaid, a servant, Seargta,part. dried Seas, V stand : L. sist-o, Greek “ histe-mi‘” Seinn, v sing. Seirbis, / service Seirbiseac, m a servant Seisead, n adj sixth, from ‘ se,’ six. Seob, n Job. Seoid, ri/ jewels. Seosep, m Joseph Seosapat, Josaphat. Sé pigne, sixpence. Seul, (seula, gen.) m, a seal. Seun, V., deny, despise. Serusalem, n. Jerusalem. Sgail, /. a burst of sunshine. Sgáile, /. a shadow, sham. Sgairt, n. v. a squirt, to squirt. Sgamal, m scum Sganalaó (‘ scanalaó,’) scan- dalous. Sganruig, v frighten. Sgaol, t\ loose. Sgaolad, the act of loosing, to loose. Sgarad, from sgar, to spread. Sgaradar, they spread, they separate. Sgaradóir, m. a spreader. Sgát, n. shade, cover; *air sgat,’ for the shade, for the pretence, for the sake. Sgéim (dat. of sgiam), beauty. Sgeul, m story ; pi. ‘sgeulta.’ Sgian (pi. sgeana), knife. Sgiat, m, shield. Sgiatán (dim. of sgiat), wings. Sgillmg, /. shilling. Sgit, n /, rest. Sgiúrsa scourge. Sglába, slave. Sgornaó, m, throat, windpipe. Sg-.réac, m. a screech. Sgread, m, a bawl, a cry out ; V. to bawl, to cry out. Sgrios, n. destruction, destroy. Si, pron., she (see observations at heading, S). Siad, they, them. Sib, you, plu. Sil, V. to distil, drop, shed. Silead, dropping. Silt, shedding, *aig silt na ndeor,’ shedding the tears. Sin, dem. pron., that. Sinn (with nn double) we, uSj ‘sinn/ affected for n). VOCABULARY. 425 Sinn-ne, we, — us emphatic — ‘ne’ suffix is an old form like noi Gr., or nos, Lat. Sinsireac, original, old. Sin, V. to stretch. Sinte, stretched. Siocad. V. to freeze. Siocta, part, frozen. Siocar, m. cause, accidental cause ; ‘bun-siocar,’ the fundamental cause, the radical cause, first cause. Siol, m,, seed. Siol-cur, sowing seed. Sioruid, adj., eternal. Síoruideaói, /. eternity. Sioruid, eternal. 1^" This word is spelled in four different ways : — ‘sioruid,’ sioraid’ ; with r doubled, as ‘siorruid’ ; and with e annexed as ‘siorruide.’ In Irish the final consonant is not, as a rule, doubled when a syllable is annexed ; secondly, e final is useless, therefore the spirit- ing ought to be ‘sioruid,’ or ‘sioraid,’ — the use of u conveys the sound and sense better. ‘Sioraid’ would be like sheer- aw, which is not the pro- nunciation, but sheer-uee. Sios, downwards ; ‘sios,’ down. Siotóáin, n/, peace. Siúbal, V. to walk. Slabraid, plu. chains. Sláinte, /. health. Sian, adj., safe, well. Slanuig, V. save. Slánuigteoir, m., saviour. Slat/, (gen. ‘slaite’, pi. ‘slata’) rod. Sleibte (pi. of sliab), hills ; L. Icevia, bare lands. Sleig, /. spear. Sleigeán, a spear, or turf- spade. Shge, /. a way. Sluaigtib, dat. plu., troops. Slug, V. swallow. Slugad, V. to swallow. Smact, n. correction ; Latin, ínacíare'(omitting s}. Smactui^, V. to chastise. Smaótugad, the act of chastis- ing. Smuainead, a thought. Smuainig, v. think, Smuaintigte, n. thoughts, musings ; L. mentis (s omitted). Smúid, /. fog, shadow, dark- ness. Snaidmeas, v. knots, unites, ties. Snáite, /. a thread. Snaosin, m. snuff. So, dem. pr., this ; Gr. ho. So, easy; — prefix, Gr. eu. Socair, adj,, lazy. Socamlac, adj., at ease. Sodom, n. Sodom. Soigide (pi. of soigead), daggers. Soilbir, adj. joyously. Soilléir, adj. clearly; from ‘so,’ easy ; and ‘lóir,’ visible. Soilseaó, lightsome. Soiteacaib, dat, pi. vessels. Soluad, venial; from ‘so’ easy, and ‘luad,’ to loose. Solam, n. Solomon. Soloinain, /. solemnity. Solás, n solace. Solásac, adj., consoling. Solomair, /., festive, cheer. Solus, light; Lat. sol. Sompla, n., an example. Sonradaó, special. Son, m., sake ; ‘air mo son,’ for my sake; ‘air son De,’ for God’s sake. Sona, adj., fortunate. Spádanta, adj., reluctantly. Spáráil, V. spare. Spas, m space. Spéis, / desire. Speur, m sky, the firmament. Spid, / spite. Spiona (Latin spina), thorn ; ‘coróiu spiona,’ a crown of thorns. Spíonán, a gooseberry, a thorny tree. Spioradalta, alj spiritual 426 VOCABULARY. Spiorad, m spirit ; gen ‘apioraid.’ Spólaid, n;pl. pieces. Spreagad, v. to enliven, to rouse. Sráid,/ street ; ‘ an t-srárd ; L. stratum. Srian, / bridle. Sr ait, / sward, turf, grass v, low land. Si ÓU, /nose: gen ‘nasróine’; Gr. rin” (s is lost.) Srut, fern stream ; Gr. “ ruo.” S'-utáii m stream . Stad, V cease ; oi a ceasing, stopping. Stadann, v stop, cease. Staid, nf state. Stán, TO (L. sian-num), tin. ’Steac, inward, within Stiúr, V to steer, a rudder, a director. Stmrad, steering, directing, &c. Stop, V stop, hinder. Stór, TO a treasure, a store, provision. Siór-óiste, a treasure. Striopac, /a harlot. Strropacas, to fornication. Strócta, adj torn. Stuidéar, m study. Suaimueas, to rest, happi- ness Suarac, adj wretched. Suas, upwards : ‘Suas,’ up Suas-tógbáil, / assumption. Subáílce, / virtue. Subáilceac, adj virtuous. Substaint, / substance. Súd, that ; ‘ sud,’ affected form Sugrad, playing, toying. Suid, sitting, a seat, a home, a resting ; Latin, ‘ seti-eo.’ Suidead, settlement, Súrl, n f eye; hope, expecta- tion, looking out for. Súil, V to expect. Suim,/ appreciation, respect, amount. Súistid, plur. flails. Súistriiicad, would flail. Sul, adv before. Súráilte, adj surely. The letter c (hard) and sibilant s have the greatest number of words. Abstract nouns ending in é, are /em., on the principle of derivata patris. They are formed from gen. fern, of adj : as ‘ troime,’ heaviness, from ^trom’; ‘boirbe,’ haughtiness, from ‘ borb.’ T. Tá, is, am, art, are Tabact, substance, force, so- lidity. Tabair, v. irr. give. Táibse, / ghost, shadow. Tainie, perf. t. came. Tairbe, / profit Tairbeaó, adj profitable. Táire, meanest, most wretched. Tairgfeas, shall offer or en- deavour. Táirngib, dai. with nails Taisbeánad, v to show : n an exhibition. Táitiíeam, to pleasure. Taituearhac, adj agreeable Talarh, / earth : gen sing. ‘ tal- man’ ; pi. ‘ talta.’ Note — In every Irish book and MS. which the writer has read for the past twenty years this word ‘talam’ is marked fern. O’Reilly, O’Brien, O’Dono- van, Dr. MaoHale in the Cate- chism and in Homer, Dr. Dun- levy treat it as a fern. noun. Again the word is of the fifth declension, therefore it is fem. for all, with three excep- tions, viz.: — names peculiar to men are fem. In the next place analogy shows that ‘ talam’ ought to be feminine. In the Apostles’ Creed, the gen case is ‘ talman,’ for ‘ tala- ihan’ (fifth deck) One Scotch- Gaelic dictionary says that it is a noiin masculine, but the VOCABULARY, 427 example he gives (‘agaid na talrhan’; proves against him. A certain doughty Irish scho- lar says (on bis own authority) that ‘ talarh’ is masculine, and. denounces the College Irish Grammar, and the Easy Lessons in Irish, and their author, in unmeasured terms for teaching the contrary. Tall, pr. over, beyond. Talmaid, earthly Tamal, m a short while. Taob, m side : ‘ de taob,’ of the side : that is, on the part of, in regard to. Taobuigeas, sides with, goes or gives over to. Taosaig, leaders. Tar, over, means over in re- gard to time, or over a place : ‘ tá an t-am aig dul tarainn.’ the time is passing over us. Tarat (‘tar,’ over; and ‘DÚ’ thee), over thee. Tarcuisne, w affront Tarcuisneaó, adj despicable. Tarcuisnead, n to despise. Tar (éis), on the track, after» Tarrang, v to draw. Tarr, come. Tart, m thirst ; ‘ tá tart orm,’ I am thirsty. Tart, past, from ‘ tar,’ over. Tart, around, about, over ; ‘ tarr tart ann so,’ come over here. Tartnaar, adj. thirsty ; root, ‘ tart,’ thirst, and ‘ mar,’ as like. Teact, V to come. Teactaire, m messenger ; from ‘ teact,’ come, to go on a message. Teactaireaót, / the act of go- ing as a messenger : 'tainic aingeal an Tigearna le teac- taireaót aig Muire,’ the angel of the Lord came on a mes- sage to Mary. ‘ Teaótaireaót an aitigil’ is the Irish term for the Annunciation. Teagasg, teaching : ‘ teagasg Crióátaig,’ the Christian doo- ti ine. Teagastar, is taught. Teagthail, v to plead. Teagmann,!; comes. Teagrauis, an accident Teampul, m temple. Teanga, / tongue Teannacra, n racks. Téarma, / lei m, limit, bound. 'l’easgiádj'ii. warm love, zeal. Téigoann, v goes. Teilg, V to condemn, to cast down ; it is pronounced as if written ‘ tleig’ by metathesis. It is easier to sound I after t than at the end before g ; ‘ teilgead Se’ is pr. ‘ tligead áe,’ he was condemned — he lost the case at law. Teine,/fire. Teinte, pi fires. Tig, it comes : used in the third singular of each tense ; with ‘ le’ (with), the word moans can, could : as ‘ tig horn,’ I can — literally, it comes with me ; ‘ tig leat,’ you can, it comes with thee. Tigearna, m lord. ‘ Tigearna’ appears to be derived from ‘ tig,’ of a house, and ‘arna.’ Tillead, addition, more. Tiinóioll, about. Tinneas, m sickness. Tiocfaid, it will come. Tiodlacaid, gifts. Tiomna, testament. Tionscnuigeann, commences, undertakes. Tiontuig, V to turn. Tiorántas, m tyranny. Tir, / country. Trrim, adj dry. Tirimig, V to dry, and con- tractedly ‘trimig,’ to dry. Tobac, m tobacco. Tobar, in well, fountain. Tog (verb), to select : ‘ toga,’ a selection : like ‘ rog,’ u choose, ‘ roga,’ choice. Tógbail, V to take up. 428 VOCABULAltY. Togróóas, /wí. will care for. Togruigim, I care for, I choose, I select ; matogruigeann tu,^ if you wish, Toil, gen. ‘tola,’ will ; Gr. thelo. Toirneac, w. thunder. Toiseac, m. commencement. Tollta, pierced. Tom, V. dip. Tomas (pr. thoo-as) measuring. Tomfad, I will dip. Tonn, m. wave. Tonna, and tonnta, waves. Torad (thorooj, piofifc, fruit. Torman, noise. Tuirae, /., weariness, fatigue j root ‘torus,’ a journey. Tuirseac, adj. tired, wearied. Tosuig, V. commence. Tract, V. to speak. Trát, time, any special time. Trátnóna, n. evening; the time of ‘nórn’ ; ‘nóua,’ is gen . case of ‘nóin,’ noon. Treas (from tri), third Trérg, v. to desert. Treoruig, v to direct. Trend, m a flock. Treudaid, m, a shepherd. Treun, adj. bold, brave. Treun-fear, a brave man Treas, a skirmish, a battle. Tri, three; Latin, tria', Gr. tria. Triall, V. prepare, set out. Trid, prep, through Trionóid, /, Trinity ; from *tri,’ and ‘aonad,’ one state or nature — three in one nature. Triúr, three persons: com- pounded of ‘tri,’ and ‘fear’ man. Trócaire, /, mercy Troid, /, to fight, n. a fight. Troig, /. a foot, a foot in length Troigte, feet as measures, also the soles of the feet. . Trom, adj, heavy ; comp. ‘troime’; ‘troime,’ n., means Weight, heaviness. Trom-ceata,/. plu., torrents. Trom-dio*altas, heavy, retri- bution. Trosgad, m, fasting. Truag (pr. throoah), pity; ‘is truag,’ it is pity. Truagamail, adj., pitiful. Truaige ( pr. throoyah), pity. Truailhd, to defile. Tu, (sing, second per.), thou, you. Tuad, /., an axe. Tuata, m, a rustic, a layman. Tuatamail, adj, clownish. Tubáilt, n , a towel. Tubaiste, misfortune Tug ('perf. tense of tabair), gave. Tuigim, V, I understand. Tuigse understanding, Tuigsiut, to understand. Tnillv, deserve ; ‘ma tuilleann tu S0,’ if you deserve it. Tuile, /, flood Tnillead, m, more, addition. Tuirhng, v, descend upon. Tuirseac, adj, tired. Tnistiún, m, fourpenoe. Tuiteacn, v, falls. Tnmbaid (pi. of ‘tumba’), tombs. Tursac (see ‘tuirseac), tired. TÚ3, m. beginning ; ‘a d-tus,’ in the beginning. Tusa, thyself. It is necessary for the learner to know that ‘habit’ is expressed by ‘eann,’ an- nexed to the root of active verbs, as ‘tuiteann,’ falls ; ‘seasann’ stands; ‘eas’ is the ending after the relative pro- noun ‘u’, who, as ‘an te a tuiteas’ (not ‘tuiteann), he who falls. So also in the future tense, after ‘a’ as “an fear, a ‘éeasfas’ Buas air son na tire,” the man who will stand up on account or for the sake of his country. The present passive ends in ‘tar,’ — future passive in ‘far’ — past participle in ‘te’ or ‘ta’ as ‘buailtear,’ is beaten ; ‘buailfear,’ will be beaten ; VOCABULARY. 429 ‘bnailte,’ beaten. — C o n 8 u 1 t College Irish Grammar on Verbs. u. Ua, (same as * o’), from : a de- scendant; a grandson, or offspring. Uabar, m,, pride ; root, *uas,’ ^ above, and ‘bar,’ top ; out- topping, or wishing to do so. Uactar, upper, superior, upper part; as opposed to ‘loctar’, lower. Hence, it signifies cream, because it is on top of milk. TJaótaráuact, superior. TJaibreac, adj proud, same as * uabrac.’ Uaide, from him, from ‘ ua,’ and ‘ se,’ him. Uaige, pi graves. Uaigneas, loneliness : from ‘ uaig,’ grave or solitary place. Uaigneaó, adj lonely. Uaill, uaill, alas! whilleloo! Latin, ululo, and English h-owl and wail — u Irish same as w English. ‘Damn, from us : ‘ua,’ from, and ‘ Sinn,’ us. Dair, / hour : pi ‘ uaranta. Uaisle,/ nobility ; from ‘ uasal,’ noble, Uaisi, from her. Ualac, a burden. Uarnan, dread. Dan, lamb. Das, upon. Uasal (‘ uas,’ over, ‘ ál,’ to sup- port), noble. Data, from them. Uatbas, m dread, astonishment. Uatbasaó, adj dreadful. Ubal, n an apple, also ‘ abal.’ Uct, m bosom : ‘ ann m’ uót,’ in my bosom ; ‘as net,’ out of, ‘as uct Dé,’ for God’s sake: literally, out of the bosom of God. Ud (tor ‘Sud’), that Udair, the yew. Ugdar, m author. Ugdaras, n an authorship, au« thority. Uile, all. Uiiiiir, / number. Uinsle, lowness. Uirishg, to humble, to lower, Uisge, m water. Uisge-beata, whiskey, water of life. Ulgáirdeas, m exultation. Umal, adj humble ; Latin, humile. Umlact,/ humility, Uifilugad, m reverence j v to humble. Umpuig, to turn, and ‘ uimpig;,’ same, from * uime,’ around, about, and ‘ teig,’ to go : wo have ‘ lonturg,’ same. Unfairt, wallowing. Ur, adj fresh. ‘ Ur,’ as a prefix, intensifies the meaning of words, as ‘ gráaa,’ ugly : * urgráua,’ very ‘Ur’ becomes ‘ uir’ before a slender vowel, as ‘isil,’ low: ‘úir-ísil,’ very low; ‘easba,’ want : ‘ úir-easba,’ great want. Urfbras, very easy. Urlac, an inch. Urnaige, m prayer. Usáid,/ use. CORRIGENDA. Page 134, at heading of Sermon, for “basgal,” read ?‘baogal.^ Page 206, for “aitrige,” read “nrnaige.’’ Page XYL, of Memoir, the word “with,*’ in line 8, should have been omitted. Page XX., of Memoir, for twelve read ten, on twelfth line. “News & Advertiser," Machine Printing Office, Tuam. THE LANGUAGE OF THE GAEL. In the months of February and March Canon Bourke received letters from young men in Cork, Waterford, Limerick, Kilkenny, and Derry, on the 1. Time and way best suited to learn the Irish lan- guage. 2. The spelling. 3. The writing. 4. Shape of letter — old Roman or modern. 5. The forming of classes, &c. In reply he wrote the following general letter, which at the time was copied into national journals in Ireland and America. Other learners may wish to know the opinions it con- tains, and therefore the letter is now republished. St. Jarlath’s College, Taamj March, 27, 1877. Dear Sir — I have received many letters within the past few days asking ray opinion regarding the best way to read and write Gaelic. It is a matter that has had my attention for years past, and I am enabled, therefore, to give you those sug- gestions, which theory, practice, and experience furnish. PERIOD OF YOUTH BEST TIME. The period of youth is the best time to learn Irish. When one is young the organs employed in articulating are flexible; the ear retentive of sound ; the memory fresh. In our convent schools numbers of children, from five to six years old, pronounce and speak Irish Correctly, while others twice that age cannot learn, in the same time, to read or speak it with equal ease and readiness. The same truth becomes plain to any pastor who attends at the Cathechism classes in the district churches in which the Christian doctrine has been taught. If people are in earnest, and if this desire for learning the language of our nation, and of teaching it, be not a passing fit of laudable fervor or of patriotism, they will, wherever they can endeavour to form classes for learning Irish Gaelic,. amongst the young children attending those schools taught by religious ladies of conventual institutions, by the Christian Brothers, or, if possible, by the teachers of National schools. The two lan- guages — Irish and English — can be taught. English is neces- sary : Irish, however, ought not to be passed over in silence. The use of two imparts a fuller utterance. INSTANCES. Grown people, whose organs of articulation are fully deve- loped, can learn Irish ; but the best and easiest way for acquir- ing a knowledge of it is to begin to speak Gaelic with those who know the language; to listen to it spoken, to make the attempt to speak those words and phrases which one has heard. Grown up children at school never learn French and German fully and correctly until they begin to speak the language. Young men learning philosophy, and speaking, from necessity, in Latin, acquire in two months a greater mastery of the language in which Caesar, and Cicero wrote than if they had been two years at a class of humanity or rhetoric studying Latin, but not think- ing, or speaking in that classic tongue. AT HOME, OR AT CLUBS. It is only right, then, that those who, as you say, speak Irish, and who wish to see a knowledge of it spread, should form clubs and frame a rule that no language but Irish Gaelic be spoken during “club” hours. This practice could be extended to the home circle. Several young clergymen known to the writer have become splendid preachers in the Irish Gaelic, though at the time they left Maynooth College, after having finished their academic course, they had had no knowledge of their native tongue. An Irish class was established at Maynooth, but the students were never taught to speak the language. Ladies in religion, too, who ten years ago did not know Irish now compose sacred songs and stories in the language of the people. Many heads of families speak Gaelic in the family circle and to the domestics, and to those employed at the farm and in duties connected with home. This practice is never overlooked in Wales. A Welshman never thinks of speaking in English to a native of Wales. This wise and common-sense duty ought, by UP, to be attended to more carefully than it is at present* Some parents who know no language but the Irish, act strangely in attempting to speak to their children in bad English. It is certain, therefore, that in order to learn Irish, one must whether he is still young or advanced to the years of maturity, make, at any cost, an attempt to speak it, otherwise the accent and the Gaelic idioms, which are all quite opposed to every- thing of the kind in English, can never be learned. VOWEL SOUNDS IN GAELIC NOT LIKE THOSE IN ENGLISH. IDIOMS. The sounds of the vowels in Irish Gaelic are quite like the vocal equivalents in German or Italian, and consequently quite opposed to that phonetic value given to the vowels in English* For example, take the word “ b-a-d,” in English ; in Irish the same combination of those letters receives a sound which must be conveyed to the English ear by “ bawdth.” The idioms, too or special form of speech for conveying thought, are all different in Irish from the forms adopted and known in English. Take for example, “ I have no money,” — this same thought is ex- pressed in Gaelic phrase in this wise : “ Money is not at me.’. Again — “ The man feels cold,” is expressed by “ cold is on the man.” The difference in the two modes of expressing the same thought is remarkable. The habit alone of speaking can overcome this diversity of manner. WEITING IN IRISH. The modern written letter in use amongst us, such as I am penning, can be employed, merely super-imposing the dot or diacritical point on the letter to be aspirated. When I wrote the “ College Irish Grammar” I was under the impression, from all I had then heard and known, that the form of letter called the ‘ old Irish character’ belonged actually to the Irish race aa special to their written speech, just as Greek letters are special for the language of the Hellenic race. A wider range of read- ing and a greater experience proved beyond all doubt that the ‘ old Irish character.’ as such, was old ‘ Homan’ the parent of the Anglo-Saxon, and the German, and like them borrowed from the Romans, The Irish and Latin manuscripts, still ex- tant, point out this truth clearly. It is only fair to come to the conclusion that, as the ‘ old Irish character’ is really Roman and the modern so-called English Ifctier’ is Roman also, therefore, we, to be up to the age, ought, like men of sense, to adopt that letter which is the best, the most pleasing to the eye, the readiest in writing, and that which from practice is to our own hand ready and easy. To supply the required ‘ dot’ or diacritical point in a smooth modern Roman letter is as easy as to supply it on the angular or squared letter known as the ' old Irish character.’ EOMANO-KELTIC LETTER OR MODERN ROMAN WITH (') ASPIRATE MARK. If the Irish language were once taught in schools as English, or even as- the French or Latin is taught, the written Ga'^lic speech could be easily learned ; for the orthography or spelling is uniform and the letters now made use of in writing English — the rounded Roman form — could be adopted. From experience the writer is of opinion that the use of the old angular letter has deterred many young people from learning Irish. If the society now being formed in Dublin for the preservation of the Irish language retain the pointed character, incorrectly styled ‘old Irish’ they will not find many learners; they will have very few earnest readers after the present enthusiasm will have died out ; in a few years the society will be a thing of the past, like all kindred bodies who have within the past forty years arisen, played their part, and passed away. They will merely publish a few books or establish a periodical for a year or two, and then when the object of some earnest workers will have been gained the whole movement will cease and the organization collapse. The same causation always produces in the same or similar circumstances the same results. All men are not of the same tone of mind. People will take what is easiest and readiest. New Roman type then with (•) aspirate mark should be cast for the contemplated Gaelic periodical. Modern Germans are making use of the round Roman letters. This subject is fully discussed in “ T/ie Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Race and Language," p.p. 302 to 318, London : Longmans. SPELLING IN IRISH. Spelling in Irish is uniform — there is no diversity ofletter to represent the same sound or phonetic measure of articulate speech. Each vowel receives its natural vocal value. It is true that aspirated letters must be employed even though not sounded. It is so in English. Take the word “ right,” gh as a digraph is now-a-days silent. Yet the “gh” cannot from that English word be omitted, since the letters or letter, (for gh is equal to g aspirated only), is a mark of (1) origin and its radical form; of (2) its philologic power in the European family of languages : (3) “gh” marks the term as distinct from the words “rite” or “write,” which represents the same sound, but conveys an idea entirely different from that expressed by the form “right.” The term “rig” (ree) means in Irish a king not unlike “right” in English, and rocht, German ; reg-o, to rule, and rectum, Latin. lf“gh” in right in English is silent and yet retained as a sign of the origin and of the philologic position of the word, so must the aspirated “ g” in “ rig,” a king, be retained. So much for the vowels and aspirated consonants in connection with spelling and writing Irish Gaelic. EEWARDS — PRIZES. Rewards should be given in schools and in colleges for the best essays in prose and poetry. For a few years rewards were given in St Jarlath’s College for the best literary produc- tion in either Irish prose or poetry. The result was all that one could have expected — most encouraging and productive of much good. Prizes, suck as those offered by the Welsh people for the best work, in the Cambrian dialect, should be offered to the general public for the best work in Irish Gaelic, Annual meetings like the Eisteddfodan should be held, and prizes awarded in public. RECITATIONS. In times long past the Druids taught the young aspirants to learning and fame to commit numerous poems, songs, stories to memory. By this means a perfect mastery of the language was acquired. So, too, amongst our people, committing the Christian doctrine in Irish to memory and repeating the lessons learned make the narrator perfect in speaking the tongue of his ancestors. PERIODICALS. Gaelic newspapers, periodicals, books of piety, and such a work as the Irish Gaelic flommittee in Dublin purpose to pub- lish, should he supported. Hitherto, to attempt to publish periodicals or books in Irish was to lose money. Publishing in Irish Gaelic has not been a profitable speculation. In all Ireland there are not five hundred who, up to the present, sup- ported a paper or periodical simply because it contained Irish Gaelic. Wales is not as large as Connaught, yet it supports a flourishing Welsh literature ; nay, if twelve Cambrians go to Australia they directly and immediately establish a Welsh periodical: The influence of the terrible penal enactments passed formerly against the native people of Ireland and their language has been felt to this hour* The great body of the Nation have been serfs, nay still worse, slaves, on the soil of their own land. The rust of the moral chain still discolours the frame of their Milesian manhood; A deluge of war and woe drowned our people in the twelve years fighting from 1641 to 1653, and again during the period that preceded the Act of Union— nay, up to the time of famine, thirty years ago, the Irish-speaking natives regarded themselves and their race as helots in their own land. Even still, in many Irish-speaking districts, they hold those views: They regard English as the language of their superiors. It must be borne in mind that since the fourteenth century — the days of Edward III., when English was only in its cradle — the language of the Irish Gael ha,s been banned. It was made penal to speak it. It had been in days past a distinct sign of race and nationality. A more enlightened policy has suc- ceeded the penal spirt of the past. Mr Gladstone has put the former favoured few, and the native millions on the same level, before the law. Sir M Hicks-Beach strongly insinuates that if we, like the natives of Wales, put our shoulders together and push forward the public car of Gaelic speech, the British Government will not be wanting. Our rulers could at once have the language taught in the National Schools of Ireland. But they will not. It is not their policy. It is opposed to the action of the past ^five centuries. If any change come, it must spring from a liberal and an enlightened spirit, HELP OURSELVES. Let us help ourselves in this matter. From the tone of the letters which have appeared lately in the public press it ap. pears to me that the writers expect too much at once. It cannot be forgotten that the language was dying out. One dying yesterday cannot, in the natural order of things, become robust to-day. The dying language cannot be restored to any- thing like a vigorous state in a year, nay, — nor in ten years Let each act as if its restoration depended upon himself alone. In time this present enthusiasm may assume form. Then Go- vernment may, through the National Schools, come to our aid. Other friendly hands will administer help, and a permanent central seat of action will in due time be formed in Cork or in Dublin — or in both. Believe me to be your faithful servant, U. J. Canon Boueke, President. awfesi y- : ■„ ■:r'4 ::g • ,-‘P' -■■■•--d ' ^ 4^:5Lít®-''’ Pm:‘ - ■' "FJÍWWi;* ; ATi.f'^-.^''»,.' •.-.’ ■- % j ■ ' .« ■¥ ' 7it„f- li»-' víjU'#v'y . :y53H . ■Ml*.. .•■ ?CTV^W líW'.N; <> I '. v! "■• íT is»"’ ^''^«^. ' i L' . ^ vilí V* 5,:: IV. ' Í í : ítst ’5Í*V «5'A J-C'- • -.r'tí '■«'! •■I...,:,, ,;j. , -i/v *.'-‘1 I .»4 nil 'í^ 4 * ‘..\f; >^»1 V -'■■ ■‘' * ■ • *1»^. \ iígiim.'iii. M ' ' ‘'r ■ '^' ' . íf, . , . J W>- •.ry" 's OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. ON THE “ARYAN ORIGIN OF THE §Mlk & ITaitgiiagt/' Showing the present and past Literary Position of Irish Gaelic ; its Phonesis the Fountain of Classic Pronunciation; its Laws accord with Grimm’s Laws ; its Bardic Beauties the Source of Rhyme ; ihe Civiiization of Pagan Ireland; Early Knowledge of Letters; the Art of Illuminating. Ancient Architecture. THE ROUND TOWERS. Four Opinions regarding them, THE BREHON LAW. ^ IHE IRISH RACE NOT PIKENICIAN. TRUTH OF THE PENTATEUCH. Knowledge in Pagan Times Retrogressive, not Progressive ; the inductive Sciences; Philology and Ethnology confirm the truth of Irish History; Gaelic names of persons and Places full of Historic Suggestiveness : in this respect and in Poetic power. IKISH-GAELIC SUPEEIOR TO SAN'SKRIT. ONE THOUSAND UNPUBLISHED IRISH MANUSCRIPTS. BY THE VERY REV. ULTCK J. BOURKE, M.R.I.A., Canon of Tnam Cathedral, and President of St. Jarlath’s College, LONDON: LONGMANS, GREEN & COMPANY, Paternísi'er Row. 1 8 7 7 . n. (^From Lite Freeman ;i Journal). The oonaumate skill with which the Yery Rtv. Author has utilized his ponderous materials, the acumen with which he states and supports his own views, the dexterity with which he aids a concurrent or combats an opponent — these, joined to great force of expression, signal illus- trative faculty, and a wonderful range of learning, make this book altogether out of the ordinary category. Its perusal offers the most conclusive answer to those who question the advantage of exploration in the language, literature, and antiquities of Ireland. From this book the sceptical or the ignorant will learn to look with new sentiments upon what is the fashion to contemn or to ne- glect ; to the scientific it will be a welcome auxiliary, and no reader, we venture to predict, but will own that he has never spent his time to better purpose than in gather- ing from the rich stores here provided for him. (From the Morning Mail.) Neither can we do more than indicate the popular rea- sons for the cultivation of Irish which he deduces from the literature and architecture of Ireland, the extant evi- dences of high artistic culture among the ancient Irish, and the Keltic laws, all of which, he demonstrates, prove the “ Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Race.” Canon Bourke treats all these subjects exhaustively, and with extraor- dinary erudition and laborious research. In such an in- vestigation the vexed question of the origin of the Round Towers could not be overlooked, and the author presents us with an able summary of all that has been written on the subject for the past seven centuries reviewing the arguments in support of each theory, and supporting his own opinions by reasons of a very convincing character. The work is a most valuable contribu- tion to philological literature ; it displays immense erudi- tion and research, combined with a judicial impartiality not always found in the works of enthusiastic writers on Ill controverted quastions of race and language. In style, it can be compared for clearness, energy, and aptness of illustration with any work in the English language ; and we should be glad if we could see more works of the kind as the result of the learned leisure of the higher digni- taries of the Roman Catholic Church. (From ilie Irish Times'). Canon Boubkb shows with admirable skill how, to men learned in the sciences of languages, a knowledge of the Keltic is a necessary element in their investigation, and he brings a blush to the cheek of Irishmen when he informs them that in France and in Germany, the lan- guage which they were fast abandoning is studied with much interest and zeal by the great philologists of the day. In his researches, the author shows that there is a great similarity between the Latin and Gaelic letters. The depth of thought displayed in this work must raise it above the level of the ephemeral productions which too frequently in latter times have issued from the press Canon Bourke devotes an interesting chapter to the consideration of the Round Towers, and who built them ? The three well-known theories he re- jects, viz., 1st that they are the work of Danish hands ; 2nd, of the early Christians ; and 3rd, that they are of not remote Pagan origin. His own opinion is, that they were built by the early settlers of the Aryan race, many, centuries before the coming of Christ. That the Danes built them he looked on as absurd, for why he perti- nently remarks, had not the Danes built similar towers in Denmark, England, Normandy and Belgium, where their power was more firmly established than in Ireland ? That they were of Christian origin he denies, seeing that from the time of St. Patrick to the Danish invasion no ecclesi- astical structure of massive proportions was built ; that the stones in no instance are of the same character as the adjoining churches, neither is the mortar of the same iv chemical composition, nor is their erection noticed in any of the many lives of the Irish saints. [From the Belfast News-Letter.'] The Round Towers of Ireland have been a puzzle for our archaeologists. When, by whom, and for what pur- pose they were built, are questions which have given rise almost to as many theories as there are structures of this class remaining. On the one hand very able men have contended for their Christian origin ; and one, not the main, argument in support of this view is derived from the fact that a greater number of them are found in connection with leading ecclesiastical establishments. If it w^ere possible to connect the building of these “ old majestic temples of our own dear isle” with the Chris- tian period no one would be more willing to do so than Canon Bourke, who is a distinguished archeeologist, and evidently anxious to bring all he can into the service of his own Church ; at the same time that he writes in a liberal spirit which has given us much pleasure ; but he cannot make them Christian in their origin. His study of the science of comparative philology has enabled him to identify the early Irish with the Aryan race, which he proves was possessed of sufficient skill and power to erect these Towers. In this respect his argument is very interesting. Canon Bourke, a Roman Catholic priest, says we are all children of the great Aryan family, be our modern name what it may ; and this fact of common brotherhood between the peoples of the United Kingdom ought to make it the more easy to reconcile these peoples and in- duce them to work harmoniously for the promotion of our common good. \_From the Northern Whig.] This learned and elaborate work shows the importance of an exhaustive study of the ancient Irish language as a V contribution to the science of comparative philology. It is only recently that this science has attained to an in- dependent position and dignity in the rich domain of ana- lytic knowledge ; and Canon Bourke has, we believe, suc- cessfully shown what a large place the Keltic tongue holds in any truly scientific inquiry into the relation of the early languages of the human race to each other. . . We must refer our more learned readers to the book itself for a thorough elucidation of the linguistic problems involved in the study of Irish. We have also several chapters on the Found Towers ; and on the ample store of ancient Keltic MSS. which lie nursed till the genius or patriotism of some future O’Curry or O’Dono- van, or Joyce shall take them in hand, and let forth their light to the world. Canon Bourke is evidently a solid linguist and his work is a notable contribution to our national literature. [_From the Nation.'] We regard with pleasure the appearance of the present work of Canon Bourke in conjunction with some recent and very satisfactory movements in favour of Ireland’s ancient tongue ; they wear to our eye something like the air of cause and effect. If our conjecture be correct, the fact must be eminently gratifying to the able and zealous President of St Jarlath’s, who has the cause of Irish so truly at heart. In concluding this brief and very inadequate notice of Canon Bourke’s remarkable work, it is right to say that notwithstanding the number and the variety of the matters brought into its pages, its hold on the reader’s interests is very persistent. Were we to indicate any divergent tendency, we should point to the too great am- plitude with which the author has developed some of the analogies he employs; Though the title-page bears the imprint of a London publishing house, the book has been printed at home — an example which some other Irish VI authors might follow with benefit to themselves and their country. {From the Scotsman.) Canon Bourke gives a deplorable account of the decay of the Gaelic Language in Ireland ; and, although he is probably fighting a loosing battle, it is impossible not to sympathize with him in his desire to prolong the existence of Gaelic as a spoken tongue. His thorough know- ledge of the grammatical structure of the ancient lan- guage has enabled him to give contributions to linguistic science in the shape of Etymological notes respecting its inflections and its relationship to other tongues. This is a field in which very important results may yet be wrought out, {Limerich Beporter and Tipperary Vindicator.) Ireland really owes a debt of gratitude, and that no inconsiderable one to the very reverend and very learned President of St. Jarlath’s College, for this truly valuable and exceedingly interesting contribution to the knowledge of the language, literature, and antiquities of that “ Isle of ancient fame.” Father Bourke, wield- ing his pen, as if it were the wand of Prospero, has brought us, whom he has shown to be the noblest Kelts of the noble Aryan race, back to our old home in the East ; has worked language, and traditions, and legends most effectively with a view to this end, and has unques- tionably succeeded in the grand object of his most inte- resting publication. The author’s history of the Pound Towers is that they are of Pagan (Eastern) Origin, built by the first Aryan Kelt settlers in Ireland, but have been utilised by the early Christians. {From the Boscommon Messenger.) We scarcely know which to admire most — its learned nd solid matter, or its charming and felicitous style. It vu is easy to see at a glance that Canon Bourke is no novice at composition. He writes with great care and elegance, displaying at every page the riches of a well-stored and highly-cultivated mind. His sentences flow with an easy grace, while his power of illustration is admirably and skilfully displayed. His work is a splendid contribution to what he himself styles linguistic lore It is for the general and intelligent reader a delightful and instructive ‘work We may liken Canon Hourke’s new work to an Exhibition Palace, in every department of which we meet objects of great interest and attraction. (From the Academy.) The volume gives a good insight into the present state of the Gaelic Language in Ireland, MoreoverThe Aryan origin will not be disputed by the students of compara- tive philology. (From the Belfast News-Letter. Second notice.) We want to show that, relatively to Englishmen, we are not what Lord Lyndhurst was accustomed to describe us, “ alien in speech, in language, and in blood,” and for this purpose we mean to rely on the valuable labours of the Very Rev. U. J. Canon Bourke, M.R.I.A., President of St. Jarlath’s College, who has just published a most interesting work on the subject, and who generously acknowledges the efforts, in the same field, of Mathew Arnold, Professor of Poetry in the University of Oxford, and of John Stuart Blackie, Professor of Greek in the University of Edinburgh. Thus it is that great minds in Ireland, England, and Scotland, released from the re- straints of prejudice, have been working in different parts j travelling, perhaps, in different routes. (From the London Morning Post). The main value of the work lies in its store of com- parative philology ; but to the curious in arcbax)logical Vlll lore, there will be found even more attractive matter in the able dissertation on the Round Towers and the Brehon Laws The account of Gaelic poetry is also very good, as are the descriptions of ancient Irish art, which is shown to have been highly advanced, as all antiquarians knew that it was And altogether Canon Bourke has produced a book which is an honour alike to his country, his sacred profession, and to his own scholarship, and which is sure to obtain the respect it deserves. {From the Hour)» We believe Canon Bourke to be a favourable specimen of a clever, genial, patriotic Irish priest. Though of Norman race, he belongs to a country which has had a sad history. Critical honesty compels us to say that the Canon’s book contains much interesting matter, and se- veral capital stories. Canon Bourke is scandalized — and we frankly go with him — that Irishmen are so ill-informed and apathetic about the language and archaeology of their own land, while an Arnold in England, and a Blackie in Scotland, are lecturing and writing about Keltic litera- ture. The Canon shows that the Gaelic language is Aryan or Indo-European, Roman Catholicism he holds to be the only true variety of Christianity, (From Notes on Boohs, by Longmans, Green, & Co.) It has been the object of the author in the present work to subject to a systematic examination the language, the national history, the laws, and the arts of the Gaelic population of Ireland. His conclusion is that the Gaelic people is strictly Aryan — Sanskrit, Gaelic, Latin, and LTrabrian, pointing to a primeval low Aryan type ; while Zend, and British and Welsh, Greek and Oscan have sprung from a high Aryan source. IX [Fí'om the Cork ExaminBr.l The author of this book is well known among Gaelic scholars for the very excellent “ Irish Grammar,” and Easy Lessons in Irish.” The present work exhibits all that one acquainted with his great linguist acquirements might expect from his pen. How few, even among highly-educated Englishmen, or Irishmen either, know anything about the history of the Irish language, its Aryan relationship, or its vast importance in philological research. To the shame of Ireland, those long undis- covered facts have been established by no son of hers, but rather by Englishmen and foreigners, chiefly Ger- mans, such as Pritchard, Grimm, Zeuss, Bopp, Ebe\ Schleicher, Max Muller, &c. Canon Bourke is the first Irishman who has followed up the work of those great philologists ; and he now presents us with the fruits of his own industry iu utilizing and adding to the explora- tions of his predecessors. His proofs iu favour of the primitive Aryan speech ; from Gaelic phonesis ; from names of Gaelic origin — extending all along the Tigris te the Tagus and the Shannon ; from the wonderful know- ledge which the ancient Gaels had of painting and poetry; of law and architecture. He devotes several chapters to an account of the de- cline of the Gaelic language in Ireland, where it was first made illegal, and then unfashionable. He taunts his fellow-countrymen and the Catholic Clergy with their apathy in “ preserving !” (neglecting) the old tongue, and fortells that even in the most Irish-speaking counties, like Galway and Mayo, it must become extinct in another hundred years. (From the Liverpool United Irishman.') Canon Bourke’s book on the Aryan Origin of the Gael is replete with deep thought and profound erudition. Its conclusions as to the Aryan Origin of the Keltic race aad tongue based on philological analogies will deeply in. X terest all lovers of archaic lore — but in nothing will it more deeply interest the Irish reader than in the decision at which he arrives as to the origin of those mysterous mile-stones of the ages that have withstood the teeth of time, only to remain as a permanent puzzle to the learned — “ The Pillar Towers of Ireland.” [From the Belfast Newsletter — second notice] Our attention has been called to a communication from the Very Eev. Canon Bourke, President of St. Jarlath’s College, Tuam, addressed to the Athenaeum, in reference to that gentleman’s recent valuable work on the Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Pace and Language. The reviewer stumbled, as a matter of course, at the Pound Towers of Ireland, the subject of so much controversy, but now by almost universal consent settling down fast to Pagan period. Canon Bourke has shown that the writer in the AtTienceum had very imperfect knowledge or the question ; but the President of St. Jarlath’s ought to have known that, in many cases, the want of knowledge is a qualification of this class of literary work. The re- reviewer has not only misquoted the work, he has dis- played much of what might be called stilty performance in dealing with an Irish subject. [Galway Vindicator. 1 We have now given our opinion, whatever may be its value of the book before us, gladly acknowledging its merits, such as they appeared to us, and in all honesty expressing our censure where we thought it deserved. We believe, firmly, that Canon Bourke has produced a work superior to anything that can be accomplished with the same end in view, by any other writer of the day. If we are to judge them by their works we can have no hesitation in placing Canon Bourke at the head of the ilving Irish scholars, and, with general philological at- t duments, we may safely predict that the European re XI putation which he must certainly earn, will endure long after more showy names of contemporary worthies shall have lost the narrow notoriety, gained by political turbulences that seems the chief spring of present Irish fame. (From the Keltic Magazine, Inverness, Scotland.) The book is in every respect a wonderful and interest- ing volume to the Kelt, at home and abroad, whether he be Scotch or Irish It is a Keltic reposi- tory — the writer’s Keltic reading for many years being appearantly thrown into a crucible, and having under- gone a certain process there, are forged into the hand- some and bulky volume before us. The Keltic student will find it valuable, and no one who takes an interest in Keltic philology, antiquity, manners and customs should be without a copy, for it is a perfect store of Keltic learning. (From the Literary World). The author enters upon an elaborate argument to show that the language of the Gael is Aryan, and came down the stream of migration that had begun to flow westward from the high country between the Tigris and the Indus before Abraham went forth out of his country. His ob- ject is to revive an interest in the study of the Gaelic language in Ireland. “ Through the eastern origin of language in Ireland,” he writes, “ one reaches the habitat of the people who spoke a common mother tongue in the hilly country of Persia and Armenia, and all along the fertile valleys watered by the Oxus, the Araxes, and the Euphrates, once, as many learned men suppose, the bliss- ful site of Paradise. The phonesis of this primitive Aryan tongue did not rest on chance, but had been wed- ded, like music, to principles of science. These princi- ples were handed down to the oldest daughter of the mother tongue — Gaelic — the phonetic developments of Xll which show forth at this day the truth of Jacob Grimm’s laws. (From Nature J “ The Aryan Origia of the Gaelic Race” is one of those books which a few years back would have teemed with the wildest vagaries. A diligent study of works like those of Zeuss and Max Muller has kept the author in the right path, and though he startles us now and then with such assertions as that the Aryan is “ the primeval language of man,” or that “ there had been only seventeen letters in the Greek at the earliest period,” his views are in general just and sound. We may doubt whether his theory of the Pagan origin of the Round Towers will be widely accepted. The book is a striking example of the extent to which a knowledge of Comparative Philology has spread, and the wholesome influence its principles have exerted. [Fivm the Athenoeum^ Canon Bourke has long been an earnest and active labourer in the field of Keltic literature. “ The College Irish Grammar” and “Easy Lessons in Irish” are works which possess considerable merit, and are, we believe, ex- tensively used by students of the Irish language at home and abroad. The present publication is of a far more ambitious character, and treats of a great variety of topics more or less closely related to the question of the Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Race and Language. The author appears to have read many of the best writers on these subjects. The work brings within reach of the general reader, and of the tyro in philosophy, many of the most striking results achieved by the comparatively new Science of Language. [From the Ulster Examiner. Not to go outside “ the Northern Athens,” we were glad to note how cordially those, from whom no parti- xiii ality welcomed while reviewing the publication. The Neivslettcr and the TT7^^gf were amongst the loudest in praise of the book, which the most hostile cannot deny to be a monument to the industry of an Irish priest who occupies the time which he can spare in discharge of his presidential duties in really painstaking investigation in the highest departments of learning, and who gives evidence that in the far West of Ireland pace is kept with the progress of the English Universities. A Catholic priest who gains words of praise and honour in the world of science from his Protestant fellow-workers elevates his creed and his cloth in the estimation of all and is a virtual worker in the field of religion while he seems only to labour in the domain of science. (From the Galwaij Express.) Canon Bourke has shown the people of Ireland from the researches of previous writers, that they have des- cended in common with the other European nations from that ancient stock that we call Aryans, who once in- habited a broad region of Asia, spreading southward and eastward from the Caspian sea. The line of proof lies in the affinities of languages, for history is silent on the subject, and even tradition gives no aid to this truth. The work must be considered a valuable acqui- sition to our national literature. The theme is fascinat- ing and important and it is discussed with all the force that, in the present state of knowledge, can be brought to bear on it. At a time, too, when there are signal efforts to subvert Faith by science, there is a peculiar pleasure in seeing it adduced as the friend of piety ; and in his various scientific allusions. Canon Bourke takes care to bring vividly before us the goodness and great- ness of the Creator. Full of valuable learning, and teeming with religion, and with that now rare patriotism which is closely allied to it, the book before us must command the ad- XIV miration of every reader who holds learning, religion, and patriotism as matters of any account. (From the Tyrone Constitution.') The Very Rev. Canon Bourke, President of St. Jar- lath’s Roman Catholic College, Tuam, is admittedly learned, and fearlessly and truly Irish. Men may dis- agree with him but they must admit that what he states he believes or knows : and if a matter in doubt, that he has patiently examined it with all the light of great learning and acuteness of mind before giving his deci- sion. Overruling authorities may escape the best judge and render his labours of no avail, but before a solemn judgment in law or scholarship can be moved the adverse authority must be received, and the superior principle laid down clearly and distinctly. A few months back, the Messrs Longmans and Co., London, published a work from the pen of Canon Bourke, entitled^ “ Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Race and Language.” The book is the result of learning, natural ability, and patriotic earnest- ness ; in short, such a book as Irishmen should buy, study, and circulate for their own advantage and honour. There is nothing under ordinary circumstances so easy as to make flippant remarks regarding the labours of a scholar. Persons altogether incapable of performing such labours can cry them down, and earn a false noto- riety by pretending to a superior knowledge on any subject. Criticism of this nature, dishonest at every stage, is current in literature. These tricks of the magazines and journals sometimes provoke authors and scholars, and when they do, the result is a retort not always courteous, and an exposure of the malpractice which does an immense amount of good for truth and learning at the time and in various directions. Canon Bourke’s book challenges criticism ; the subject he dealt with is debatable, but only deep thinkers and persons of wide and general information in antiquities, and accus- XV tomed to balance the niceties of language, tbe origin and structure of words, the evidences of the migration of races, can be heard pro or con with advantage. Proofs are called for on both sides ; authorities must be recited ; nothing can be taken for granted ; all and every- thing advanced must be submitted to argument, proof and authority. One of Canon Bourke’s critics, a gentle- man of the flippant tribe, has incurred his hostility, and comes in for a pounding which he is not likely to forget The Athenaeum has tried a rough-and-tumble with the Canon, and the Canon has clearly and cleverly got the upper hand of the critic — a man announced by the editor of that journal of more than ordinary grasp and depth of intellect, and of general scholarship. All these qualities have not saved him from blundering, and mis- representing, and mis-quoting, and the Canon detects him and exposes him without pity. (From the New York Irish World.) The Very Rev. Ulick J. Canon Bourke, of St Jarlath’s College, Tuam, has published a book of 530 pages, full of learning, full of patriotism, full of suggestion and hope, all devoted to the instruction of the present gene- ration, concerning the generations that have long ago peopled Ireland, England, Scotland and Wales. We must draw to a close to-day, our review of this most valuable contribution to Irish history and Irish lite- rature, which should be in the library of every Irish priest and every Irish scholar in the whole world. [From the London Daily Standard.'] The thoughtful and learned work before us is one after Matthew Arnold’s own heart, abounding as it does in historical evidences of the hereditary genius of the Keltic race in arts, science, and letters. With pardon- able pride and partiality, as a true Irish patriot. Canon Bourke looks upon the Irish Branch of the Keltic race XVI as the purest and most perfect type The historical and ethnological value of this writer’s re- searches cannot be well over-rated, He brings a vast amount of historic truth to light, and dissipates many errors. He refutes, for example, beyond all question, the common myth that the Pagan Irish were barbarians, and that civilisation only came to them by the preaching of St. Patrick ; and yet a thousand years before “ the saint of saints” landed on “ the melancholy shores” of Ireland, a highly civilized race of Kelts lived in that kingdom, skilled in architecture, in painting, in music, sculpture, iu glass-making, in enamelling, in dyeing, in workmanship of brass, silver, gold and iron, iu the know - ledge of reading and writing, and in the arts of colour- ing glass and metals which were not unknown, with law^s of social life of the highest type of civilization, and with a Constitutional Government partly Monarchial and partly Republican. (From the Glole,) The work contains a great deal of sound philological knowlege. Canon Bourke is familiar wdth the es< ab- lished laws of philology, and expounds them with refer- ence to this subject in a lively and clear style. It is to be hoped his counsel will have some effect in rousing the learned class in Ireland to a sense of their duty in a matter in which they ought long ago to have distin- guished themselves. (From the Berry Standard.) This is a work of first class merit which every Irish scholar wdll peruse with satisfaction, as placing Irhh Ethnology, and ancient Language of Ireland, upon a rational, and withal a strictly critical basis, in confor- mity with the laws of Comparative Philology, as deter- mined by the results of the latest modern researches. XVll (From the Connaught Telegraph). There is scarcely one of our readers to whom the name of the erudite President of St. Jarlath’s College is not familiar as a household word. His varied attainments profound knowledge, and passionate devotion to the lan- guage of the Grael have won for him honour and esteem at home, appreciative recognition and respect in other lands. Prom his earliest youth. Canon Bourke has de- voted himself with a missionary zeal, in the brief hours he could snatch from his many and engrossing avocations to the study and investigation of the history and the language of a race which was mature in all the noblest arts of civilization, long ages before the desecrating foot- steps of the panish invader first polluted our shores. . . . . We heartily commend the “ Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Pace and Language” to the attention and pe- rusal of our readers. It is written in a style at once clear and forcible, logical and eloquent. Is there a question to be proved, a doubt to be solved, the author invariably arrays his arguments in the convincing form of a syllogism. Is the imagination had to be pressed, are the feelings to be appealed to ? Canon Bourke rises at once to the lofty height of descriptive eloquence, and his glowing words reproduce to the mind of the reader the ancient glories of Carnac and Luxor. . . . The publication of Canon Bourke’s last and most successful effort ought to stimulate Irishmen to a proper appreciation of the value of the language of their fathers. (From the Mayo Examine)). This work is one of high merit, and may be classed as one of the great literary productions of the present time ; for there has been no single book published in the pre- sent age requiring a greater amount of study and lite- rary research than the book named above, No man but a man of extraordinary grasp of intellect, with a per- fect knowledge of languages and ancient and modern XVll history, could write the work — the second edition of which is now before us. The first of Irish scholars, and one of the most able and eloquent writers of the day ; and what we admire more in the writer is the fire of patriotism which burns in every page of his book. It was this patriotism, this love of race, and creed, and country, which induced the Rev gentleman, to undertake so stupendous a work, and never was a work so nobly conceived and bravely undertaken — better finished as is testified to by the unanimous voice of critics. “ The Aryan Origin of the Gaelic Race and Language” has thrown more light on the subject of ancient Irish history than all that had been written before it. It is not alone the information which the book contains, which is vast and varied ; it is not alone the sound, logical, reasoning, forcible and uncontrovertible arguments which are everywhere to be found in support of our ancient prechristian civilization ; it is not alone the ele- gant and masterly style of the composition that attracts the readers attention, and induces him to give his whole thoughts to the subject before him ; but there is a pathos, depth of feeling, and sentiment pervading every sentence of the whole five hundred pages, which stirs up the very soul, and brings the reader at once in sympathy of feel- ing and harmony of thought with the writer, which the most dexterous and laborious efforts of rhetoric could not accomplish. (From the Belfast Evening Telegraph.') While differing from many of the conclusions of the learned writer, we do not hesitate to say that the sub- ject has been treated of in a manner which evidences a vast amount of original and painstaking research into a most interesting study, and is the most masterly work upon the subject we have ever perused. We would re- commend its careful study not only by the philologist, but by those interested in {he early history of their country. O G-í^k.U /VG-HíTpv, DOTS MOT cmCOlATE BOSTON COLLEGE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY HEIGHTS CHESTNUT HILL. MASS. Books may be kept for two weeks and may be renewed for the same period, unless re- served. Two cents a day is charged for each book kept overtime. If you cannot find what you want, ask the librarian who will be glad to help you. The borrower is responsible for books drawn on his card and for all fines accruing on the same.