W\ -Lr BR. A FLY OF THE UNIVERSITY Of ILLINOIS ^'^fiM'fl Return this book on or before the Latest Date stamped below. A charge is made on all overdue books. University of Illinois Library JSN 23!i53 Aril'li UL.L l> i ^ 1 V,' V • fiPfl 1 1 IE r ' MAR 2 5 \m OCT 1 6 19W NOV lis 198a '''K 1 1SP8 S3 H3U 1 6 rass J'iO <_ ir L161— H41 4 g^ K Fi IRISH-AMERICM LIBEAEY. VOLUME II !? tilS: UbftiUfH (MlVmiTlf OF KJLIMil 7 ^^^-^^^if^^'^^n.^^ Ireland and the Irish. JLJECTf/JRJEJS I linill ill ifilllPlY, N. BURKE, 0. F. LYNCH, OiMJ^y k Iv1l|gt45r 0^ ^evmi\.X STREET m -*? /■ >^.- '^•(- Ireland and the Irish. JLECTUnJES ON IBISS IISTOflT m BIOSBAFIT. BY Very Rev. THOMAS N. BUME, 0. P. Mitj^ an ^pp^nirijT, CONTADnNG WENDBLL PHILLIPS' PAITEGYBIO ON O'COMNELL, THE "TRBATT OV LlHBaiCK'* AMD ITS YlOLATIOM, HiSIOBICAL NOTES, ETC. I^EW YORK: LYNCH, COLE & MEEHAN, 67 MUBRAY STEEET. 1873. Entered aooording to Act of Congress, In the year 1878, by . LYNCH, COLE & MEEHAN, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington! Stereotn>ed at the WOMBN^S PRINTINa HOXTSB, S6, 68 and 60 Park Street, New York. ^\^ INTRODTTCTION". Thb Lectnres compiised in the present yolnme (the second of *' The Irish- American Library,") will be found probably the most interesting of those delivered in America^ by the Very Rev. T. N. Burke, the eloquent Dominican preacher. While not pos- sessing the more piquant, though less permanent attraction, — spring- ing from the dash of intellect, and the very novelty of the contest, — which attached to the discourses in reply to Mr. Froude, at the period of their delivery, these lectures, — majij of which are now for the first time given to the public in a revised and permanent form, — are not less important and interesting, especially to the Irish people in America, as illustrations of the National History and character of their race ; while as specimens of most eloquent and poetic word-i)ainting, they are infinitely superior, in style and rhetorical finish, to the "Froude Lectures." They constitute, indeed, a complete epitome of the history of Ireland, from the era when the " Sacred Isle," in the enjoyment of freedom, prosperity and civilization, afforded a home and welcome to the learning and piety of the old world, down to those later and terrible years, when her children, oppressed and impoverished, driven from their native home, and forced to seek in other lands a refuge from tyranny and misgovemment, carried with them, in their exile, into every clime, the traditions of the virtue and patriotism, the valor and genius for which, under all circumstances, the Irish race has been distin- - guished. Nothing in human eloquence can be more beautiful than the pictures which Father Burke draws of the peace and sanctity whioh dharaoterized Ireland in the "golden age" that soooeeded 6 INTRODUCTION, her conversion to C^iristianity ; and even the narration of the gloomy and terrible scenes by which that national repose was sup- planted, daring the thousand years of war and desolation that followed the Danish and Norman invasions, is illumined by flashes of heroism and manly achievement, which relieve the other- wise dark and sombre limning of the picture, and show to the world the example of a noble race gallantly struggling against the most adverse fate, and even in its direst misfortunes and calamities, commanding the respect and sympathy of humanity. The lectures on " The Historic Euins of Ireland," " The Exiles of Erin," and " Irish National Music," are, in their class, unique and unrivalled as illustrations of the genius and character of an an- cient and long-suffering nation ; while in the biographical sketches of "St. Columbkille," "St. Laurence O' Toole," the leaders of the "Volunteer Movement of '82," and "O'Oonncll," the most perfect types are presented of the representative men of the vari- ous important epochs into which the history' of Ireland may be divided, for the last fifteen hundred years. Altogether these lec- tures may be truly said to be the finest secular work of the great Dominican orator, and can never oease to possess a high value in the estimation of a people who set so much store by the records of their past history and national glory, aa do the scattered children of the Irish race. CONTENTS. PAcn LiFB AND Times of O^Ck>imBLL 9 The Histobio Buins of Trbuhtd 80 The ExiiiES of Ebin - . , 61 The National Music of Ireland 89 St. Laurence O'Toolb . 117 The "Volunteers of '82." 141 BODERIC O'GONOR, THE LAST MONARCH OF IRELAND . . 163 St. Patrick . . . 176 The Irish nr their Belation to Catholicity . . 203 St. COLUMBKIMiB 225 The National Character of the Irish People . . 244 Ireland's Faith, the Triumph of the Aob . . . 263 APPENDIX. WteNDBLL Phillips' Panegyric on O'Connbll . The Treaty of Limerick . . . . Notes 827 IRELAND AND THE IRISH. « THE LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONKELL." (A Lecture delivered by the Very Bev. T. y. Burke, 0. P., on Mon- day, May 13iA, 1873, in the Academy of Music, New York.) Ladies and Gentlemen : The history of this age of ours tells of many men who have used their energies and theii* powers for the purpose of enslaving their fellow-men, and for the purposes of injustice and persecution. This age of ours, however, has had the grace to produce one man who received from a grateful nation the proudest title that ever was accorded a man ; he was called the " Liberator of his country." I need not mention his name : his name is writ- ten upon the history of the world, under this grand title of " Liberator ; " — his name is enshrined in every Irish heart, and in the memory of every irishman, under the glorious title of the *' Liberator." When we hear that word, those among us who are advancing into the vale of years, remem- ber, as he seems to rise before them, at the sound of the namerof"the " Liberator," the colossal, gigantic figure ; the brows overladen with mighty thought ; the Irish eye, beaming with intelligence and with humor ; the uplifted arm, emphasizing every glorious maxim of freedom and of religion : and at the sound of the word " Liberator," we be- hold, rising out of his grave and standing before us, as he once stood and held sway over millions of Irishmen, the glorious figure of Daniel O'Connell. There is nothing, my friends, that ought to be more grate- ful or more instructive to every high-minded man than to re- call the deeds by which a man gained that well-deserved 1* 10 IRELAND AND THE IRISH. glory ; for such a man not only binds to his own brow the crown of immortal fame, but he also leaves behind him, for the consideration of those who come after him, a glorious example of manliness, integrity, and virtue. These virtues should be the study of every man among us ; and never can we study them more favorably, than when we see them em- bodied in the life and the acts of one who dazzled the world by the glory of his genius, and left behind him, in the hearts of his fellow-men, traditions of mighty admiration and ten- derest love. Who, therefore, was this man? For whom did he contend ? By whom was he crowned with this glorious title of the " Liberator of his country ? " Oh I my friends, before we sketch his life, it is well for us to cast our thoughts back some eighty years, and consider what Ireland was at the close of the last, or the 18th cen- tury. It seemed, indeed, as if the closing of the century should have been bright and peaceful and happy ; it seemed as if the sun of Ireland had risen at last, and that the night of the 18th century would have passed into the roll of ages, under the full blaze of noontide prosperity and happiness for Ireland. In 1782, eighteen years before the final close of the century, there was in Ireland a reunion of the grandest intellects, and the brightest names, that perhaps ever adorned the pages of our national history. The walls of the Parliament House, in College Green, resounded to the glo- rious appeals of a Grattan and a Flood ; while the stately and dignified Charlemont upheld the honor of the nation in the Irish House of Lords. They demanded of England a full recognition of Ireland's rights, and of Ireland's indepen- dence as a nation. Their voices were heard, and were un- heeded ; until, in a happy moment, the necessities of the times obliged England to permit an organization of armed Irishmen, called the " Volunteers of '82." The men of Ire- land took arms into their hands ; and it is well, that, Catho- lics as we are, we should not forget that this glorious move- ment originated among our Protestant brethren of the North of Ireland. The men of Ireland took arms in their hands ; and, when Grattan spoke agsrin, he spoke with a hundred thousand armed and drilled Irishmen at his back ; and Eng- land was obliged to listen and to pay the greatest attention to his words. He demanded the charter of Ireland's inde- pendence ; and he obtained it, because he sp\>ke in the name ^'THB LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL:' H of an organized and an armed nation. He arose in the House of Commons ; and he pronounced these words : "I found my country in the dust ; I raised her up. She stands, to- day, in her queenly independence ; and nothing remains to me but to bow before the majestic image, and to say esto per- petua, — be thou perpetuated in thy freedom, O Ireland ! " Fair, indeed, and bright was the vision ; — industry devel- oped, trade encouraged, magnificent buildings, — such as the Four Courts and Custom House, of Dublin, — erected, and the people speaking with a nation's voice : fair and bright was the prospect ; only it was too bright to last. The Irish Parliament, at last, consented to take some steps for the emancipation of their Catholic countrymen, so that all the nation mi^t enter into the act of .legislation; to have no laws made by class or caste, but by all men who had the name and the privileges of Irishngien. It was too bright to last. The English Government took thought. The following year saw a strange Viceroy sent over ; the following year the insidious " Army Act " was introduced ; the pressure and apprehension of war was taken from England ; and the moment her hands were free, she turned around to rivet the chains upon Ireland's form. The " Army Act " was passed ; and then the Irish Parliament had only to stop the voice of Grattan and every patriotic man. By that act it was de-« clared illegal for every Irishman .to "carry arms; and the "Volunteers were disarmed. No sooner were the arms, the guns and artillery taken from them, and these strong men deprived of their arms, than England at once began a sys- tematic persecution of the Irish people with the express intention of goading them into rebellion, and thereby fasten- ing the chains which she secured about them. One act fol- lowed another. In 1794, Earl Fitzwilliam was made Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. He arrived in the country in Jan- uary. He was the friend of Ireland, and of Ireland's son, the immortal Grattan. As soon as ever the English Govern- ment discovered that this man intended to rule Ireland justly, he was instantly recalled; and the people who greeted him with shouts of joy in January, accompanied him with tearful eyes, as he took his departure on the 25th of March of the same year. Then followed act after act of tyranny and oppression. In vain did Grattan, Curraii, and 12 IRELAND AND THE IRISH. the immortal Lord Edward Fitzgerald, who was then in the Irish Parliament, protest against these cruel acts. At length, finding that Government was determined to destroy the people, if possible, in the year '97, Grattan arose in the Irish Parliament, and said : "I have offered you measures for the happiness of Ireland, and you have refused them. You propose measures for the misery of Ireland, and you will carry them. I have no more use or business," he said, " to remain in this House ; " and the aged patriot departed from the House, followed by Arthur O'Connor, Lord Edward Fitzgerald, and a few others, who left with despair in their minds and with aching hearts. Then came the dawn of 1798, when Kildare and some of the midland counties made a miserable and unsuccessful attempt at revolution. Heroic Wexford arose ; the stalwart men of the hill-sides of Wexford arose. Unarmed as they were, — or armed only with the armor of their infinite bravery, — they stood out for dreary months against the united power of England ; until, at length, the rebellion, as it was called, was suppressed, after the slaughterplthe peo- ple. A ferocious foreign soldiery, and the Yeomanry, were let loose through the land; tortures were inflicted upon innocent and unoffending men and women, worse than ever Cromwell inflicted upon the people of Ireland; and '98 closed upon the nation trodden in the blood-stained dust, and with minds and hearts utterly prostrated and broken under the iron heel of the enemy. And this O'Connell saw, during the years '98 and '99. He listened, day after day, night after night, as John Phil- pot Curran stood alone between the tyrant upon the bench, — the blood-stained and ferocious Norbury, — and the poor prisoner, so often innocent, in the dock ; with a loud, heroic, though fruitless voice, vindicating the principles of eternal justice and the majesty and purity of the law. The heart of the nation was broken in '98, and nothing remained but for the infamous Englisli Minister to work his will upon the people of Ireland. That man was called Lord Castlereagh. He cut his throat afterwards; and it used to be a standing toast in the west of Ireland, even within my recollection, for two or three friends, when they met together, to feel in duty bound to fill their glasses and give : — " Here's to the strop that put the keen edge on the razor that cut Castle- ''THE LIFE AND TIMES OF OCONNELL:' 13 reagh's throat." He bribed tlie Irish members of Parlia- ment with money, or bribed them with titles ; he practised the vilest arts of corruption that could be suggested by his own wicked mind and corrupted heart ; and he carried, jiist at the beginning of this present nineteenth century, the measure which has been the ruin of Ireland, namely, the abolition of the Irish Parliament, and the union of the two countries under one Legislature. It was in vain that Grattan thundered against this iniquity with his heroic voice. It was in vain that Fitzgerald, Kendall Bush, and other great Irishmen of the day, spoke, in language that is immortal for its eloquence and for its justice, in the cause of their coun- try and their country's national existence. Everything was borne down and flooded with English corruption and bribery. And this act was passed, by which Ireland was deprived of the power to make her own laws ; and a nation hostile to her, and determined upon her corruption and ruin, was com- missioned to make laws for Ireland. The act was passed. It has been the apology for every cruelty, and every injustice that we have suffered from that day to this; the accursed act of Union, by which Ireland lost her power. Among the bribes that were held out to the Irish people to let this Act pass, there was one, and it was a promise that was given then, that the Catholics should be emancipat- ed. No sooner, however, was the Union passed, than Wil- liam Pitt, the Prime Minister of England, betrayed hisJaith, and broke his word with Ireland ; and when he had received the gift of our existence into his hands, he laughed at us in the face, and mocked us as fools, for trusting him. And a fool is every Irishman on the face of the earth that trusts England and England's Parliament, or that imagines for a single moment that the English Government or the English Parliament will ever give justice, or equal laws to Ireland, unless they are obliged and coerced by the fear of arms. If the Volunteers of '82 had kept their guns, Pitt would have kept his word. And now, my friends, what was the position of Ireland when O'Connell first appeared in the history of our country ? Bom in 1775, he was called to the bar, in Dublin, in 1798: it was only five years before — that is to say, in 1793 — that the Penal Law was relaxed, so that a highly educated Cath- olic gentleman was allowed the privilege of earxung his bread 14: IRELAND AND THE IRISH, as a lawyer. We first find him while the question of the Union was being agitated. He attended a meeting in the Com Exchange of Dublin. It was composed exclusively of Catholics, mostly professional men. They came to discuss the question of Ireland's existence, and to protest against the Union. It will give you some idea of how things were car- ried on in those days. As I told you, no sooner was the meeting assembled in the Corn Exchange, than the tramp of soldiers was heard outside; and in swaggered Major Sirr, the town-major of Dublin, at the head of his troops. He marched around the hall and surrounded the meeting. He then conmianded his men to ground their arms ; and down went the heavy guns of the Hanoverian and English sol- diers. " Now, gentlemen, you may begin your discussions," said he. But every man there knew that his very life was at the mercy of that blood-stained, unmerciful, hard-hearted man. There was no liberty of thought, much less of speech ; a man could not call his soul his own in those days. And it was under these circumstances, in the presence of Major Sirr and his soldiery, that O'Connell, for the first time in his life, spoke a word for Ireland. He tells us that, what between the intimidation and the threats, — ^what between the ejffect of this intimidation and his position as a young man, he felt as if his heart would break with anxiety and fear while he was speaking. Now the Union is passed. Ireland is annihilated ; and the only hope for Ireland now, — as it was our only hope for three hundred years before, — was the strength and power of Ireland's faith, — Ireland's Catholicity, which was still alive. There it was, still unconquered and unconquerable, — the only element of life, the only element of courage, the seedling of national regeneration which was left to us, — our holy faith, to which we clung in spite of persecution and blood for three hundred years. But this powerful element lay dormant in Ireland. A " Catholic Board," as it was called, was formed in Dublin. A body of Irishmen came together to try and agitate for Catholic Emancipation in the British House of Commons, in London, as in the Irish House at home ; and they found a glorious advocate in the great Henry Grattau. Year af- ter year he brought forward his motion, praying the Legis- lature to strike off the chains from the Irish Catholics; year after year, he met with overwhelming majorities against ''TEE LIFE AND TIMES OFjy CONNELLY 15 him ; and his appeal and his cause were laughed to scorn in the British Parliament. In vain did Plunkett take up that glorious theme ; in vain did the immortal Edmund Burke, — England's greatest philosopher and statesman; Ireland's greatest son, whose name shall live forever, in the annals of the world's history, for every highest gift of genius and virtue ; — in vain did Burke and Fox, with all the English statesmen of mind, advocate the claims of the Irish Catho- lics. They got no hearing ; there was justice for every man ; there was consideration for every man ; there was respect for every man, until it was discovered that he was a Catholic and an Irishman ; and then there was not for him even the courtesy of a hearing, but only the laughter of scorn. They had conquered us : and they thought they could despise us. They imagined, because we were conquered, we were degrad- ed. The "Catholic Board" of which I speak, in Dublin, was afraid to raise its voice. Those who befriended us were liberal Protestants ; and many glorious, liberty-loving patriots there were among them. God forbid that I should forget it. The great masses of the Irish people, — ^^then amounting to nearly eight millions of men, — were crushed into the earth, and were afraid to speak, tinder the tyranny of a hostile government, under the tyranny of their cruel and unjust landlords, the Catholic party were afraid to speak. Grattan's voice was unheeded : he was refused a hearing in the House. Now, the Almighty God, in His mercy to Irishmen, lifted up a man, gigantic in form, gigantic in intellect, heroic in courage, strong in feiith, tender in heart, immaculate in his purity, who was destined to shake the Irish race into self- assertion and energy ; who was destined to rule these peo- ple and to lift them from the ground, to put a voice upon their lips and make their hearts throb again with glorious excitement and high hope. O'Connell arose, alone, to head the Irish people ; — with the grasp of an athlete, to strangle every man that arose against these people. Alone, he rose to lead a prostrate nation high up the rugged road of liberty ; until he led them to kneel before a free altar, and burst the bonds that bound them. Alone had he to do it. In 1813, he took the charge of, and a leading place in, the ** Catholic Association." At that time, mark the difficul- ties he had to contend with:— he had a people afraid to 16 IBELAND AND THE lEISH, speak ; — ^he had an arLstocracy opposed to him to a man ; he had the great landed interest of England and the English people opposed to him to a man ; he had the English Catholics opposed to him ; he had a government, that was watching him, crossing him, day after day, with persecu- tions; arresting him, now on this charge, now on that; accusing him now of having said this, and then of having said that. He had men watching for his life. He had to conquer the false friend and the open enemy, defy the Government, defy the Bench and the Bar ; he had to take the pistol in his hands, bitterly, though his Catholic heart regretted it : he had actually to commit a tremendous crime in the cause of Ireland. He was prosecuted, for some say- ings of his, with Bichard Lai or Shiel : the Grand Jury threw out the bills ; there was no case against them. Find- ing that they could not entrap him into the meshes of the law, which, with a superhuman genius and prudence, he was able to evade, a murderer was put upon his track. As of old, when they found fchey were unable to conquer Owen Boe O'Neill with the sword, they put poison in his drink ; so, when they found they could not conquer O'Connell by the laws, they set a murderer upon his track. The whip of D'Esterre was lifted to strike the magnificent form of Ireland's best son. What could he do ? Insulted over and over again, that life, that was so precious to Ireland, he freely risked for Ireland. I do not justify him. No. Nor does he ask me from his grave in Glasnevin to-night, nor from his place in Heaven, to justify him. Even as St. Peter, for his one denial of his Master, wept every day of his life, so O'Connell, for his one moment of forgetfulness of his Catholic duties, wept every day of his life. Yet what could he do ? Young, brave as a lion, confident in his strength and in bis dexterity, he accepted the challenge ; and, on a fine morn- ing, Mr. D'Esterre, — who threatened to flog O'Connell, and wanted to fight him, — took a cab and drove out to Lord Cloncurry's place, about ten miles outside of Dublin; and there, on a field of an estate called Lyons, he met Daniel O'Connell. Now, D'Esterre thought he was sure to win, as he was a small, thin, miserable little man, like an attenuated herring, long out of the sea ; and it seemed that, to hit him, a man should be able to shoot a rat at half a mile ; while O'Connell was a fine, full, burly, mountain of a man. To ^'THE LIFE AND TIMES OF 0' C0:^NELL:' y fire at him, was something like firing at a haystack. Then, again, D'Esterre was a dead shot ; and O'Connell was con- sidered to be a far more formidable man with the pen than with the pistol. I have my account of this from old men^ who were on the ground that morning. They said there was deliberate murder in D'Esterre's eye, as he took his aim. O'Connell simply stood there for Ireland; he could not keep his hold of the people (considering the genius of the time) unless he met that man, and fought him. He lifted his pistol, apparently, carelessly ; but he threw the light-gray eye along it. Two reports were heard. The whistling ball passed before O'ConnelPs eyes : but D'Esterre lay on the ground; and he never got up again. Major McNamara, of Clare, — a Protestant gentleman, who had fought a great many duels in his time, — was on the ground. He came up to O'Connell, with tears in his eyes, and said — " I declare to Heaven, Dan, it was the neatest shot that ever was made. If ever I am to meet my man again," said the Major, ** I hope, if he is to strike me at all, he will do it neatly. It is almost an honor to be killed so beautifully." The " Catholic Association," formed under O'Connell, grew under his genius. The Catholic aristocracy of Ire- land, — ^the Bellews, the Trimblestons, the Fingals, — were shocked when they heard this man speak. They were frightened ; they were afraid to speak to the English people at all ; they were afraid to petition Parliament. Even John Keogh and the democratic portion of the Catholics of Ire- land were for maintaining what they called " a dignified silence," which means a silence that proceeds from fear. Out came O'Connell as brave as a lion. He knew no fear. He attacked ; he did not petition. He attacked the men at the head of the State. He called them every vile name he could think ofl One man was called a " pig ; " another " a perjurer ; " another was told to " get out of that ! " another was called a " bloated buffoon ; " and so on. And these grand English statesmen, — who thought they could walk or ride rough-shod over all Ireland, — found to their amaze- ment, that there was ian Irishman who not only was not afraid of them, but who gave them nick-names that stuck to them for the rest of their lives. When the Catholib people of Ireland found that, somehow or other, a lion had got in among them, — a lion rampant, roaring for his prey ; — ^when 18 IRELANT) AND THE IEI8E. they found that there was one Catholic man in the land, speaking their own language, glorying in identity of race with them, — that made every man afraid of him, — even to the Prince of Wales, at that time (George IV. afterwards), — they plucked up courage, they raised their heads; and they asked themselves was the world coming to an end ! for, what was going to be done with this man ? But when they found that this man had a genius and eloquence that nothing could withstand ; — when they found that the cause of justice and of truth, on this man's lips, meant the tremendous cause that would shake the world ; when they found the Catholic nations, France, Spain, Austria, Italy, sympathizing with this man, admiring his genius, translating his speeches into their tongues, and proclaiming him one of the gi*eatest men of the age, — Ireland began to feel confidence and pride in O'Connell. Now, I say that Ireland's confidence and pride in O'Connell, from the year 1810 to the year 1829, was her salvation. He roused the clergy. The priests, even, were afraid to speak ; there was not a clerical voice to be heard in the cause. The bishops were afraid of their lives ; if they spoke, it was with bated breath, as men who are only permitted to live, who are winked at in order that they might be tolerated in the land. He roused the clergy ; he sent them among the people ; he commanded them to preach a gospel, second only in its sacredness to the Gospel of our holy religion, — that ia the gospel of Ireland's glorious nationality. And thus it came to pass, that, in the year 1813, George Canning, the great English statesman, was glad to propose a measure for the emancipation of the Catholics of Ireland. And now comes O'Connell again in all his glory before us. Canning prepared his bill. The Catholics of Ireland were to be emancipated ; they were to be allowed to enter all the professions ; they were to be allowed to enter Parliament ; they were to be allowed to mount the Judicial Bench as the Judges of the land ; they were to be allowed to legislate for themselves and for their people ; all — ally upon one condi- tion ; and that was, they were to allow the English Govern- ment what was called " The power of the veto ; " which I will explain to you. Whenever a Catholic priest was to be made a Bishop, his name was to be sent to Rome ; and if the Pope approved of him, then, instead of making him a ''THE LTFtS Am) TIMES *0F O CONNELLY 19 Bishop, out of hand, he was to send back his name with the nomination; and the moment a man got his nomination, instead of going to the Archbishop, and getting him to con- secrate him, he was to send the nomination to the Secretary of State, and the Secretary of State was to submit it to the Council of English Lords, and the Lord Chancellor of Eng- land, or the Irish Lords, and the Lord Chancellor of Ire- land ; and fchey were to examine this man, and see whether he was worthy to be a Bishop. They were such good judges, they knew all about that ! In all probability, if the bill had passed, Lord Norbury, of whom you have heard, would have been one of these examining Lords, examining a priest in his theology. And if they disapproved of a man, — in other words, — if they found him a true Irishman ; if they found he had one spark of love foi" his country in him, — they were to put their " veto," upon him ; and the Pope was to have no power in the matter. You understand what it meant. They wanted to exclude from the Episco- pate of Ireland such men as the immortal Dr. Doyle, or the great John McHale, of Tuam ; they wanted to make Bidiops only of men who would lie down at their feet, and be trampled upon ; who would tell the people that there was no such word as freedom in the Gospel. Such was the state of affairs at the time when Canning's Bill was proposed, with " the Yeto " attached to it. All the English Catholics said, " Oh, yes ; that will be very well." All the Irish " respectable " Catholics, with a very few Irish Catholic Lords, and a few Irish Catholic Knights, were in favor of the " Yeto." " Why* not ? " they said ; « we will all be glad to be emancipated on any condition." Some of the Irish Catholic Bishops admitted it. And, worst of all, the Pope was then a prisoner, in France : Napoleon had him a prisoner. Affairs in Home were managed by a high functionary, whose name was Quarantotti; and this high prelate, when he got the draft of Canning's bill, and read it, — such was the state, of slavery in which we were, all the world over ; persecuted everywhere, — ^that the Pope's repre- sentative actually wrote to Dr. Poynter, Catholic Bishop of London, and to the Irish Bishops, telling them to accept the " Yeto " and emancipation with it. The moment O'Connell heard this, — he who had risen against the Orangeism of Ireland, rose like an angry giant, and told the Iiish Bishops 20 IRELAND AND TEE IRISm and the Irish priests, — aye, and Rome itself, — ^that that "Veto never should be admitted into Ireland. He came, exulting like a giant in his strength, and thundered at the door of the English Parliament, and said, " Emancipation and freedom without any conditions ! " " We are no longer slaves," he said ; " we are no longer beggars. We come and demand, and insist upon emancipation, without any con- dition whatsoever to bind it." Now, my friends, what gave O'Connell this power? I answer that, by this time, O'Connell had organized the Irish people in their parishes. He had made them join the *' As- sociation." He had fixed a tax of a penny a month upon every Catholic man in Ireland. It was not the penny he was looking for, but for the man's name. He got them all enrolled in the "Association;" he got the priests to know all the men who were associated ; he got the people to know one another ; he published their numbers to them ; he told them the secret of their strength ; he had the priesthood of Ireland, — the parish priests, the curates, the friars, — with him, to a man. No " Veto " for them. Why ? For many reasons. I will not speak now of the effect of that legisla- tion (if it had passed) upon the Church. I will not speak of it as affecting her liberties. But what was more natural than that every honest priest in Ireland should oppose the Veto ? because he must have said to himself, " What chance have I of ever being made a bishop ? " Canning, though the friend of Ireland, was told to keep his Emancipation Act. Things went on. The Irish people, every day increasing in their numbers, affiliated with the Catholic Association ; every day feeling their way, feeling their strength. The thundering voice of the mighty O'Connell went through the land. He went here and there through the country: he sacrificed his profession and all its vast gains, and he de- voted himself to marshalling the people ; until at length, things were brought to such a pass that when Lord Welling- ton, the conqueror of Waterloo, and the bitterest Tory enemy that ever Ireland had, — when Wellington came into power, sworn, if be could help it, never to do anything for the Irish Catholics, and having a King, the basest, vilest, the most polluted of men, the infamous George IV., at his back, who swore that he never would grant anything to Irish Catholics, — O'Connell had so marBhalled the inah. ''THE LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONNELL:' 21 nation, that the man who had conquered Napoleon at Water- loo was obliged to acknowledge that O'Connell had beaten him ; and he went to the King and said : " If you will not emancipate the Catholics without any condition, and give them their freedom, you will have a revolution in Ireland." It was not for love, it was not for justice, that this Act was granted. Never, since the day that Richard Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, set foot, with his Normans, upon the soil of Ireland, — never from that hour to this, has England granted us one iota of justice, except under the influence of craven fear. The year 1828 came. Wellington came into power; and' the Catholic Association, like men who had now learned to speak, passed a decree that no man that accepted office under Lord Wellington should be returned to Parliament, for any borough or any county. There was a member, at the time, for the county of Clare ; a very good mail ; a very estimable and agreeable man ; and his father was really a great man, a true patriot. This man's name was Vesey Fitzgerald : and he accepted office under the Duke of Wellington's Govern- ment. That obliged him to go back to Clare to ask the people to re-elect him. The people, at that time, were altogether in the hands of the landlords : and when the day of the election came, they were called together, not even being given their breakfast before they left ; and the bailiff, and the land steward, and the landlord drove them, as you would drive a flock of sheep, to give their votes. So, every landlord could say to another, " I have so many votes ; how many have you ? " The people had no voice at all, except just to register their votes. Vesey Fitzgerald was a popular man. He came back to Clare for re-election ; when, like a thunder-clap, came the words of O'Connell: "I am going to stand for Clare, and be elected to Parliament from it." The British Government was silent with utter amaze- ment and astonishment at the audacity of the man. The whole world stood confounded at the greatness of his cour- age. He went down to Clare. The priests came around him. He raised his standard, inscribed " Freedom from landlord intimidation ! " " Every man has his own con- science, and his own rights ; " and by a sweeping majority of the honest and manly Irishmen of the County Clare, O'Connell was returned. S2 IRELAND AND THE IBISH. While they were discussing the terms of emancipation; while they were asking each other could thes^ allow Cath- olics the privilege of returning members to Parliament, of their own religion; while they were trying to devise how they would neutralize it, how they would keep it out ; in- spite of all, this big, huge man walks in on the floor of the House of Commons, returned as member from Clare. He advances to the table to take the oaths of allegiance and loyalty. The Clerk of the House of Commons rose to put the book in his hands to swear him. " What am I to be sworn to ? " " To swear this." He reads : " The sacrifice of the Mass, the veneration of the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Saints, is damnable idolatry." O'Connell replied: — "In the name of two hundred millions of men; in the name of eight millions of the Irish race; in the name of antiquity ; in the name of history ; in the name of the God of Heaven, the God of truth, I reject that oath ; for it is a damnable falsehood ! " He found a " Veto," with a ven- geance, lying before him ; and, as he would not have the Act of Emancipation, with a " Veto," tacked on to it, so he would not sit down in the House of Parliament with an infernal lie on his lips. Three times was the Act of Catholic Emancipation put be- fore the English House of Commons ; and, sorely against their will, — because the Prime Minister and his associates in the Government told them, with trembling lips, " You must do it. The Iiish are prepared for revolution ! You must doit! They will sever the connection altogether! They will break up the Empire ! " — they passed it. It went be- fore the Lords. For three days they held out against it, vomiting out their bigotry. " No ! no I rather die than do it ! No ! " " But you must do it 1 " was the answer. The Irish people had found a man ; that man had united them as one man ; and, now, O'Connell represented Ireland ; and O'Connell stood at the door and told them " You must do it ! " The bill passed the Lords and Commons ; and Welling- ton took it, on bended knee, and offered it to George the Fourth. The King refused to read it. " You must read it!" He read it. <* Never!" "You must do it? It cannot be helped ! " He took the pen in his hand, — and he burst into tears! He did not weep when he broke the heart of his wife, and declared her an adulteress. He did " TTTE LIFE AND TIMES OF CfCONNELL.'' 23 not weep at the ruin of every form of innocence that ever came before him, — that was destroyed and polluted by his unholy touch. He did not weep when he left Richard Brinsley Sheridan, his own friend, to die of starvation in a garret in London. He had no tears to weep. He had no heart to feel. The bloated voluptuary! — he was never known to weep in his life, only when he was signing the bill of Emancipation ; and then he wept the devil's tears. The Act was passed and declared law on the 13th of April, 1829; and, to use the eloquent words of my brother in religion, Lacordaire, " Eight millions of Irishmen sat down in the British House of Commons in the person of Daniel O'Con- nell." And yet, mark the spite, the deliberate spite of the Government. After the Act of Emancipation, they would not let him take his seat, until he had to go back to Clare to be re-elected. After the Act of Emancipation was passed, they made a number of barristers — English barristers — King's Counsel — members of the bar ; and while the young men — ^young counsel — received this privilege, — the head of the Irish bar — the head of the Irish people was denied it. They thought to vent their spleen on him, and leave him in the background ; as if he could be left in the background, whom the Almighty God brought forth. And now, my friends, the great crowning act of his life being thus accomplished, he did not rest one moment ; but he turned his thoughts to the second great object for which he lived. And, indeed, it was scarcely the second but the first, viz. : the Repeal of the Union. Some people in Ire- land — and elsewhere — think that the Repeal of the Union was an afterthought of O'Connell ; that he did not intend it in the beginning ; that he never thought of it until he had coerced them into emancipating the Catholics. It is not so. Twenty years before Catholic Emancipation was passed, O'Connell declared that he would labor to the last hour of his life for the one purpose of repealing that accursed Union. Even in Grattan's time — (and Grattan lived until 1820) — even in Grattan's time, the Catholics of Ireland had already petitioned for the Repeal of the Union, and Grattan told them : " If ever you Catholics of Ireland rise up in your united strength, you will get the Repeal of the Union, or anything else England may have it in her power to bestow upon you." 24: IRELAND AND THE IRISH. From 1829 until 1839, — for a period of ten years, — O'Cortnell sat in the British Parliament, opposed to all the rivalry, all the opposition, all the contempt, that the bigotry of English Protestantism could bring to bear upon him. Every man in that House hated him as the devil is said to hate holy water. But he stuck to his own courage, and his own tri(i of giving names. Stanley, the late Earl of Derby, rose to oppose him, and he turned upon him in this way : " Sit down, scorpion Stanley ! " And, until Stanley went to his long home, he was known by the name of " Scorpion Stanley.'' Disraeli attacked him; and O'Connell turned round and said : " Oh, here is a Jew ; a lineal descendant of the impenitent thief that refused to be converted on the cross." Mr. Sugden, the Chancellor, deprived him of the magisterial power. O'Connell called him " the man with the ugly name : " and whenever he spoke of him, or replied to him, he never alluded to him by name, but, in his supreme wit, O'Connell would say, he should have said, as " the man with the ugly name " has observed. And so, by his un- daunted courage, by his wit, by his tremendous argumenta- tive power, and by his swelling eloquence, he crushed the ■ opposition of the English House of Commons ; and, as he had opened the door by the power of his genius, he held his footing there by the same genius: untO, in a few years, the fate of the two great parties of England was in the hands of O'Connell. O'Connell and his "tail," as it was called, com- manded such influence, that, on any great question afiecting the existence of the government, the Premier of England always, in his necessity, came to O'Connell to beg him to have pity on the Government, and not to turn them out of office. And now the great Repeal agitation began to take form and symmetry. He who had united Ireland as one man in the sacred cause of religion, united them again, as one man, in the cause of nationality. From end to end of the land r he travelled ; and wherever he appeared, the enthusiastic heart and manhood of Ireland gathered around him. .Oh, how grandly does he rise before my imagination now ! Oh, how magnificent is the figure that now looms up in the lialls of my memory, as I look back to that glorious year of 18^, — the " Repeal year " of Irelancl ! He stands within the honored walls of Dundalk, and three hundred thousand ''THE LIFE AND TIMES OF 0' CONNELLY 25 Irishmen are around him. Not a voice of discord ; not a word of quarrelling ; not a single jarring, even of thought ; not a drunken man : not a criminal among the three hun- dred thousand of Ireland's stalwart sons ! He stands upon the Hill of Tara ! He stands by " The Croppy's Grave ; " and he has there upon the slopes of that hill, two hundred and fifty thousand men, — a quarter of a million of Irishmen be- fore him. Oh, who was able thus to unite Irishmen? Who was able to inspire them with one soul, — with one high and lofty and burning aspiration ? Who was able to lift up a people whom he had found so fallen, though jiot degraded, that they could scarcely speak the words of free- doom — of right — the thoughts in their minds ? It was the mighty genius — it was the grand, the maguificent mind of Ireland's greatest son — of Daniel O'Connell ! The Government got afraid; and well they might be. Oh, for the shining arms of the " Yolunteers ! " If, on that day of Tara, — if, on that day of Mullaghmast, — if, on that day, when the soldiers barred the road to Clonxarf, — if, on that day, Ireland were armed, where, on the face of the earth, is the race of oppressors that this army of men might not have swept from their path in the might of their con- centrated patriotism ! But Irelan'd, though united, was un- armed ; and the brave and heroio- man, who said, with so much truth, that his highest glory would be to draw the sword for his native isle, was obliged to preach conciliation, and peace and submission to the people. The meeting at Clontarf was dispersed ; and I may say, with truth, that the dream of the Repeal of the Union of Ireland with England was dissolved. Some days after, found O'Connell in prison, where for months he languished ; his health and his heart broken for the sake of Ireland ; until at length the iniquitous decree, the blasphemous judg- ment was reversed, — even by the English House of Lords ; — and O'Connell,. in September, 1844, came forth from^ prison a free man. But he never recovered from that blow, never. It was followed by disunion in the national councils. Brave and generous hearts, to be sure, there were, full of young and warm blood. They were for drawing the sword, while they had no sword to draw. Ireland, unarmed, arose in rebellion ; while near Clontarf, and in and around Dub- lin, there were twenty thousand soldiers ready to pour out 26 IRELAND AND THE IRISH, the people's blood. The glorious dream of emancipation — of emancipation for the people — fled away, for the time. Then came the hand of God upon the people. "Oh, well I remember the fearful scenes that aged father of his country saw before he died! Then came the day when the news spread from lip to lip : " There is famine in the land ; and we must all die." So said eight millions, in that terrible year of '4G, — eight millions, in that awful Autumn that came upon us, when the people cried for bread and there was no one to break it to them. The strong men lay down and died. The tender maidens, the pure and aged matrons of Ireland, lay down and died. They were found dead by the roadside, unburied ; they were found in their shallow graves — scarcely buried. They were found crawling to the chapel door that they might breathe out their souls in one last act of faith and love to Christ! Thus did the Angel of Deatli spread his wings over the land. The Legislator and the Emancipator — the Father of Ireland — was com- pelled to see his people perish ; and he had not the means to save them. O'Connell's heart broke in his bosom. \ And, a broken-hearted man, in January, 1847, he rose from his bed aud crawled to London. With tottering step, \ the aged man — the wreck of all that was once so glorious — appeared before the astonished eyes of Parliament, The voice that used to till the land with the thunders of its elo- quence, was now lowered to the merest whisper, — the lan- guage of a broken heart. He rose. He pictured before those men the agony of Ireland. With streaming eyes he implored the mercy of England upon the dying people ; and a subsidy to save their lives. That subsidy was denied. Ire- land was told that she might die. England closed her hand. And the heart-broken father of his country was told to go and seek some genial clime ; and there he might die ; but there was no mercy for his Irish people. O'Connell set out for Rome ; the Irish people started for America. O'Connell is in Heaven, to-night, I believe in my heart and soul ; and I believe also, in my heart and soul, that, if anything on earth could brighten his joys in Heaven, his joys would be brightened to know and see the glory, the increased strength, the manhood of Ireland as it exists to- day in America. With the instinct of Catholicity he turned to Rome, journeying by slow stages ; and, on the 16th "TEE LIFE AND TIMES OF O'CONN'ELL:' 27 of May, 1847, be breathed out bis soul to God, baving re- ceived all tbe sacraments of tbe Cburcb. With the names of Jesus and Mary on bis lips, he died, in the city of Genoa, in the north of Italy ; and his last words were : " When I am dead, take out my heart and send it to Kome : let my body be brought back to mingle with the dust of Ireland ! " The doctors who attended him could not make out what dis- ease was upon him. The first men in Ireland, Fi-ance, Italy — came and studied his case. They could not make out what sickness or what infirmity was his. They had never, before, been called upon to attend a man who was dymg of a broken heart. O'Connell's • heart was broken : the heart that was sent to Rome — the heart that is enshrined in Rome, to-day — was brdken for love of Ireland ! And, now, what was the genius, what the character of this man ? What was the secret of his strength ? I an- swer again : — O'Connell was all that history tells us to-day, and all that history shall tell the nations in a thousand years to come ; O'Connell was all that, because of the &,ith, and Catholicity that was in him ; — because he was a Catholic of the Catholics ; — he was Irish of the Irish ; — and consequently the instincts of Ireland, and the heart of Catholic Ireland sprang to meet him, and identified themselves with him ; so that he made Catholic Ireland as if it had but one heart, and ^ne thought, and one mind. Over all his human efforts, over all his tremendous exertions in the cause of freedonv — in the sacred cause of liberty — there was ever shining over all, the light of Divine Faith ; and he knew that in doing battle for Ireland, he was battling for Orod and for God's Church. What made him refuse the " Veto ? " It would not have affected him; it would only have affected the Church; it would only affect the priesthood and the episco- pacy of Ireland. What made him refuse that bill of Can- ning's? It was because his Catholic instincts — his Catholic mind and heart told him that the Stote had no business un- der Heaven to interfere in the regulation or in the govern- ment of the Church. He gave to the Irish people not only the voice that pleaded for their freedom, — ^the magnificent life that was devoted to their service, — but he gave some- thing far higher, greater than this ; he gave them the bright example of a pious, sincere. Catholic man. He showed Ire- land, he showed the world, that the highest genius can be 28 JHELAND AND THE IRTSE. exalted still more wlien it is consecrated to the sacred cause of the Church, and of holy religion. He taught the youth of Ireland the lesson they had learned so well from him and from their fathers, — rthat the secret of Ireland's strength and of Ireland's ultimate glory and freedom and nationality lies in Ireland's adherence to her glorious old faith. He taught the youth of Ireland that that man alone is sure to conquer every enemy in this world who has learned to conquer his own passions and himself among other things. He has con- tributed largely to make a priest of me ; for among the tenderest recollections of my youth, — among the things that made a deep impression on me as a boy, — was, when I stood in the chapel in Galway, to see the great O'Connell, the man that shook the world, that frightened every man that crossed his path, — to see that great man coming to eight o'clock Mass in the morning ; kneeling among us and receiving his Holy Communion ; to watch him absorbed in pi*ayer before his God ; to read, almost, the grand thoughts that were pass- ing through that pure mind ; to see him renewing again and again, before Heaven, the vows that bound him to his relig- ion and to his country. This, this was the grand principle of his life ; this was the secret of his genius ; this was the inspiration that produced his success, And in this devotion well did the Irish correspond with him. Whatever he told them to avoid they avoided ; whatever he told them to do they did it. Oh! if God had only left him, and left us united councils I And if God, in His infinite wisdom, had only averted the terrible stroke that prostrated Ireland, and broke O'Connell's heart, the glory that we still looked for- ward to might be ours to-day. But, although he is dead and gone, his genius, his soul, his heart and his hopes, still live in the breast of every true son of Ireland. You and I still look forward to our brightest human hope, after the happiness of Heaven, to behold Ireland what ho so often wished and prayed she might be, " great, glorious and free." Great, as her history tells us, in the past, she has been; glorious O'Connell made her, in her glorious victory of Emancipation; free I oh, there is a God of justice in Hea- ven ; — there is a God that treasures up the fidelity and suf- ferings of a nation ; — there is a God that accepts the people's sacrifice, and, sooner or later, crowns it. To that God do I look, with the same confidence with which I look for my ''THE LIFE AND TIMES OF aCONNELL:' 29 own salvation ; — I look to thee, oh, God ! this night, to send down the crown, the reward of freedom, to my glorious country ! And when that freedom comes, w^e will know how to use it ; we will know how to respect our neighbor's rights, and not trample on them : we will respect our neighbor's property, and not plunder him. We will never raise our hand in the effort to deprive any people on the earth of that sacred boon for which we have sighed so long, — the sacred boon of national freedom ; because we are Catholics, and the Catholic Church alone teaches man how to preserve and de- fend so high a gift, and how to use his freedom. "THE niSTOEIC KUmS OF lEELAND." {A Lecture delivered hy the Very Hev. T. N. Burke, 0. P., in the Cooper Institute, New York, on Friday, April 4, 1872.) Ladies and Gentlemen : I have to apologize to you, in all earnestness, for appearing before you this evening in my habit. The reason why I put off my black cloth coat and put on this dress — the Dominican habit — is, first of all, be- cause I never feel at home in a black coat. When God called me, — the only son of an Irish father and an Irish mother — from the home of the old people, and told me that it was His will that I should beleng to Him in the sanctu- ary, that father and mother gave me up without a sigh, be- cause they were Irish parents, and had the Irish faith and love for the Church in their hearts. And from the day I took this habit — from that day to this — I never felt at home in any other dress ; and if I were to come before you this evening in black cloth, like a layman, and not like an Irish Dominican friar, I might, pisrhaps, break down in my lec- ture. But there is another reason why I appear before you in this white habit : because I am come to speak to you of the ruins that cover the face of the *' old land ; " I am come to speak to you, and to tell you of the glory and the shame, the joy and the sorrow, of which these ruins so eloquently tell. And when I look upon them, in spirit now, my mind sweeps over the intervening ocean, and I stand in imagina- tion under the ivied and moss-covered arches of Athenry, or Sligo, or Clare-Galway, or Kilconnell ; the view that rises before me of the former inmates of these holy places is a vision of white-robed Dominicans, and of brown Francis- cans ; and, therefore, in coming to speak to you in this garment, of the glorious history which they tell us, I feel more my- self, more in consonance with the subject of which I have to speak in appearing before you, as the child and the repre- sentative — no matter how unworthy — of the Irish friars, — «* THE HISTORIC HUINS OJT IKELAimr 31 the Irish priests and patriots who sleep in Irish graves to- night. And now, my friends, the grandest — the most precious inheritance of any people, is that people's history. All that forms the national character of a people, their tone of thought, their devotion, their love, their sympathies, their antipathies, their language, — all this is found in their his- . tory, as the effect is found in its cause, as the Autumn speaks of the Spring. And the philosopher who wishes to analyze a people's character and to account for it, — to ac- count for the national desires, hopes, aspirations, for the strong sympathies or antipathies that sway a people, — must go back to the deep recesses of tKeir history ; and there, in ages long gone by, will he find the seeds that produced the fruit that he attempts to account for. And he will find that the nation of to-day is but the child and the ofisprisg of the nation of by-gone ages ; for it is written truly, that "the child is father to the man," When, therefore, we come to consider the desires of nations, we find that every people is most strongly desirous to preserve its history, even as every man is anxious to preserve the record of his life ; for history is the record of a people's life. Hence it is that, in the libraries of the more ancient nations, we find the ear- liest histories of the primaeval races of mankind, written upon the durable vellum, the imperishable asbestos, or sometimes deeply carved, in mystic and forgotten characters, on the granite stone, or pictured rock ; showing the desire of the people to preserve the history which is to preserve the memory of them ; — just as the old man, dying, said, " Lord, keep my memory green ! " But, besides these more direct and documentary evidences, the history of every nation is enshrined in the national tra- ditions, in the national music and song ; much more it is written in the public buildings that cover the face of the land. These, silent and in ruins, tell most eloquently their tale. To-day "the walls may be crumbled, the stone de- cayed ; " the clustering ivy may, perhaps, uphold the totter- ing ruin to which it clung in the days of its strength ; but, " The sorrows, the joys of which once they were part, Still round tiiem, like visions of yesterday, throng." They are the voices of the past ;*'they are the voices of ages 32 IRELAND AND TEE IRISH. long gone by. They rear their venerable and beautiful gray heads high over the land they adorn ; and they tell us the tale of the glory or of the shame, of the strength or of the weakness, of the prosperity or of the adversity of the nation to which they belong. This is the volume which we are about to open this is the voice which we are about to call forth from the gray and ivied ruins that cover the green bosom of Ireland : we are about to go back up the highways of history, and, as it were, to breast and to stem the stream of time, to-day, taking our start from the present hour in Ireland. What have we here ? It is a stately church, — rivalling, — perhaps surpassing, — in its glory, the grandeur of by-gone times. We behold the solid buttresses, the massive wall, the high tower, the graceful spire piercing the clouds, and upholding high towards heaven, the symbol of man's re- demption, the glorious sign of the Cross. We see in the stone windows the massive tracery, so solid, so strong, and so delicate. What does this tell us ? Here is this church, so grand, jret so fresh and new and clean from the mason's hand. WhatT'does it tell us ? It tells us of a race that has never decayed ; it teSb^^is of a people that have never lost their faith nor their love ; it talk us of a nation as strong in its energy for every highest and holiest purpose, to-day, as it was in the ages that are past and gone forever. We retrace just half a century on the highway of time ; and we come upon that which has been familiar, perhaps, to many amongst you, as well as to me, — the plain, unpretend- ing little chapel, in some by-lane of the town or city, — or the plain and humble little chapel in some by-way in the country, with its thatched roof, its low ceiling, its earthen floor, its wooden altar. What does this tell us ? It tells us of a people struggling against adversity; it tells us of a people making their first effort, after three hundred years of blood, to build up a house, however humble, for their God ; it tells us of a ^people who had not yet shaken off the traditions of their sla- very, upon whose hands the chains still hang, and the wounds inflicted by those chains are still rankling ; it tells us of a people who scarcely 3'et know how to engage in the glorious work of church edification, because they have scarcely yet realized the privilege that they were to be allowed to live in the land that bore them. Let us reverently bow down our " THE EISTORIG RUIN8 OF IBELAND:' 33 heads and salute these ancient plages — these ancient, humble little chapels, in town or country, where we — wo men of middle age— made our first confession, and received our first communion : let us salute these places, hallowed in our mem- ories by the first, and therefore the strongest, the purest, holiest recollections and associations of our lives ; and, pil- grims of history, let us turn into the di'eary, solitary road that lies before us. It is a road of three hundred years of desolation and bloodshed: it is a road that leads through martyrs' and patriots' graves ; it is a road that is wet with the tears and with the blood of a persecuted and down-tK)dden people ; k; is a road that is pointed out to us by the sign of the Cross, the emblem of the nation's faith, and by the site of the martyr's grave, the emblem of the nation's undying fidelity to God. And, now, what venerable ruin is this which rises before our eyes, moss-crowned, imbedded in clustering ivy ? It is a church, for we see the muUions of the great east window of the sanctuary, through which once flowed, through angels and saints depicted thereon, the mellow sunshine that warmed up the arch above, and made mosaics upon floor and altar. It is a church of the mediaeval choral order, — for I see the lancet windows, the choir where the religious were accustomed to chaunt ; — yet popular, and much frequented by the people, for I see outside the choir an aijiple space : the side-aisles are unincumbered, and the side-chapels with altars — the mind of the architect clearly intending an ample space for the. people ; yet it is not too large a church ; for it is generally one that the preacher's voice can easily fill. Out- side of it runs the square of the ruined cloister, humble enough, yet most beautiful in its architecture. But now, church and cloister alike are filled with graves, — the homes of the silent dead. Do I recall to the loving memory of 9JIJ one among you scenes that have been familiar t^o. your eyes in the dear and the green old land? Are there not those among you who have looked, with eyes softened by love, and by the sadness of the recollections recalled to the mind, under the chancel and the choir, under the ample space of nave and aisle of the old abbey of Athenry, or in the old abbey of Ealconnell, or such as these ? What tale do these tell ? They tell of a nation that, although engaged in a hand-to-hand and desper- 34 IRELAND AND THE IBISH. ate struggle for its national life, yet in the midst of its wars was never unmindful of its God. They tell of Ireland when the clutch of the Saxon was upon her ; when the sword was unsheathed that was never to know its scabbard from that day until this, and that never will, until the diadem of per- fect freedom rests upon the virgin brow of Ireland. They tell of the glorious days when Ireland's Church and Ireland's Nationality joined hands; and when the priest arid the people rose up to enter upon a glorious combat for freedom. These were the homes of the Franciscan and the Dominican friars — the men who, during three hundred years of their residence in Ireland, recalled in these cloisters the ancient glories of Lismore, and of Glendalough, and of Armagh ; the men who, from the time they first raised these cloisters, never left the land, — never abandoned the old soil, but lingered around their ancient homes of happiness, of sanc- tity, and of peace, and tried to keep near the old walls ; just as Magdalen lingered round the empty tomb, on Easter morning, at Jerusalem. They tell of the sanctuaries, where the hunted head of the Irish patriot found refuge and a place of security. They tell the Irish historian of the Na- tional Councils, formed for State purposes, within them. These venerable walls, if they could speak, would tell us how the wavering were encouraged and strengthened, and the brave and gallant fired with the highest and noblest purpose for God and Erin; how the traitor was detected and the false-hearted denounced ; and how the Nation's life-blood was kept warm, and her wounds were staunched, by the wise counsels of ther old Franciscan and Dominican friars. All this and more would these walls tell if they could speak ; for they have witnessed all this. They witnessed it until the day came — the day of war, the sword, and blood — that drove forth their saintly inmates from their loving shelter, and devqjied themselves to desolation and decay. Let us bow down, fellow-Irishmen, with reverence and with love, as we pass under the shadow of these ancient walls. And now stepping a few years — scarcely fifty years — fur- ther on the road of our history, — passing as we go along under the frowning, dark, feudal castles of the Fitzgeralds, of the De Laceys, the De Courceys, the Fitzadelms, and, I regret to say, the De Burgs, — the castles that tell us always of the terror of the invaders of the land, hiding themselves " THE mSTOmC BUINS OF IRELAND:' 35 in their strongholds, because they could not trust to the love of the people, who hated them; and because they were afraid to meet the people in the open field ; passing under the frowning shadows of these castles, suddenly we stand amazed — crushed as it were to the earth, by the glories that rise before us, in the ruins of Mellifont, in the ruins of Dunbrodie, in the awful ruins of Holy Cross, and of Cashel, that we see yet uplifting, in solemn grandeur, their stately heads in ruined beauty over the land which they once adorned. There do we see the vestiges of the most magnifi- cent architecture, some of the grandest buildings that ever yet were raised upon tjjis earth for God or man. There do we see the lofty side walls pierced with huge windows, filled with the most delicate tracery ; there, when we enter in, we throw our eyes aloft with wonder, and see the groined, massive arches of the ceiling upholding the mighty tower ; there do we see the grandeur of the ancient Cister- cians, and the Canons Regular of St. Augustine, and the Benedictines. What tale do tlie'i/ tell us ? Oh, they tell us a glorious tale of our history and our people. These were the edifices that were built and founded in Ireland during the brief respite that the nation had, from the day that she drove the last Dane out, until the day that the first accursed Norman came. A short time, a brief period : too brief, alas ! too brief. Yet in it, Ireland, exhausted after her three hundred .years of Danish invasion, turned her first thoughts and her first energies to build up the ancient places that were ruined, — to restore and to clothe the sanctu- aries of her faith, with a splendor suph as the nation never had seen before. We will pass on. And, now, a mountain road lies before us. The land is filled again, for three centuries, with deso- lation and with bloodshed and with sorrow. The hill-sides, on either hand of our path, are strewn with the bodies of the slain ; the valleys are filled with desolation and ruin ; the air resounds to the ferocious battle-cry of the Dane, and to the brave battle-cry of the Celt, intermingled with the v/ailing of the widowed mother and the ravished maid ; the air is filled with the crash and the shock of battle : for in terrible onset, the lithe, active mail-clad, fair-haired, blue- eyed warriors of the North meet the dark, stalwart Celt ; and they close in mortal combat. 36 IRELAND AND THE IRISH, Toiling along, pilgrims of history as we are, we come to the summit of Tara's Hill, and there we look in vain for a vestige of Ireland's ruins. But now, after these three hun- dred years of our backward journey over the highway of history, we breathe the upper air. The sunshine of the eighth century, and of Ireland's three centuries of Christi- anity, is upon our path. We breathe the purer air ; we are among the mountains of God ; and a sight the most glorious that nation ever presented opens itself before our eyes, — the sight of Ireland's first three centuries of the glorious Faith of St. Patrick. Peace is upon the land. Schools rise upon every hill and in every valley. Every city is an immense school. The air again is filled with the sound of many voices ; for students from every clime under the sun — the German, the Pict, the Cimbri, the Frank, the Italian, the Saxon, are all mingled together, conversing together in the universal language of the Church, Pome's old Latin. They have come, and they have covered the land; they have come in thousands and in tens of thousands, to hear from the lips of the world-renowned Irish saints all the lore of ancient Greece and Pome, and to study in the lives of these saints the highest degree and the noblest interpretation of Christian morality and Christian perfection. Wise rulers governed the land ; her heroes were moved to mighty acts ; and these men, who came from every clime to the uni- versity of the world — to the great masters of the nations — go back to their respective countries and tell the glorious tale of Ireland's strength and Ireland's sanctity, — of the purity of the Irish maidens, — of the learning and saintliness of the Irish priesthood, — of the wisdom of her kings and rulers,— of the sanctity of her people ; — ^until at length, from out the recesses of history, there comes, floating upon the breezes of time, the voice of an admiring world, that proclaims my native land, in that happy epoch, and gives to her the name of the island of heroes, of saints, and of sages. Look up. In imaginaition we stand now upon the highest level of Ireland's first Christianity. Above us, we behold the venerable hill-top of Tara ; and, beyond that, again, far away, and high up on the mountain, inaccessible by any known road of history, amid the gloom, — the mysterious cloud that hangs around the cradle of every ancient race. " THE HISTORIC RUINS OF IRELAND." 37 looming forth from pre-historic obscurity, — we behold the mighty Round Towers of Ireland. There they stand — " The Pillar Towers of Ireland 1 how wondronsly they stand By the rushing streams, m the silent glens and the valleys of the land — In mystic file, throughout the isle, they rear their heads sublime, — '• Those gray old pillar temples, — those conquerors of time." ^ Now, having gone up to the cradle and fountain-head of our history as told by its monuments and its ruins, we shall pause a little before we begin again our downward course. We shall pause for a few moments under the shadows of Ireland's Round Towers. There they stand, most perfect in their architecture; stone fitted into stone with the most artistic nicety and regularity ; every stone bound to its bed by a cement as hard as the stone itself. A beautiful calcu- lation of the weight which was to be put upon it, and the foundation which was to sustain it, has arrived at this, — that, though thousands of years have passed over their hoary heads, there they standj as firm to-day as on the day when they were first erected. There they stand, in j)erfect form, in perfect perpendicular. And the student of art in the nineteenth century can find matter for admiration and for wonder in the evidence of Ireland's civilization, speaking loudly and eloquently by the voice of her most ancient Round Towers. Who built them ? You have seen them ; they are all over the island. The traveller sails up the placid bosom of the lovely Blackwater ; and while he admires its varied beauties, and his very heart within him is ravished by its loveliness, he beholds, high above its gre^n banks, amid the ruins of ancient Lismor?, a venerable Round Tower lifting its gray head into the air. As he goes on, passing, as in a dream of delight, now by the valleys and the hills of lovely Wicklow, he admires the weeping alders that hang over the stream in sweet Avoca ; — he admires the bold heights throwing their outlines so sharp and clear against the sky, and clothed to their very summits with the sweet-smelling purple heather ; — he admires all. this, until, at length, in a deep valley in the very heart of the hills, he beholds, reflecting itself in the deep waters of still Glenda- lough, the venerable " Round Tower of other days." Or he has taken his departure from the Island of Saints; and 38 IRELAND AND THE IRISH. ■when liis ship's prow is turned towards the setting sun, he be- holds upon the head-lands of the iron-bound coast of Mayo or western Galway the Kound Tower of Ireland, the last thing the eye of the lover or traveller beholds. "Who built these towers, or for what purpose were they built ? There is no record of reply, although the question has been repeated, age after age, for thousands of years. Who can teU ? They go so far back into the mists of history, as to have the lead of all the known events in the history of our native land. Some say that they are of Christian origin ; others, again, with equal probability, and, perhaps, greater, assert that these venerable monuments are far more ancient than Ireland's Catholicity ; that they wei-e the temples of a by-gone reli- gion, and, perhaps, of a long-forgotten race. They may have been the temples of the ancient Fire Worshippers of Ire- land ; and the theory has been mooted that, in the time when our remotest forefcithers worshipped the rising sun, the priest of the Sun was accustomed to climb to the summit of the Hound Tower, to turn his face to the east, and watch with anxiety the rising of the morning star, as it came up, trembling in its silver beauty, above the eastern hills. Then, when the first i-ays of the sun illumined the valleys, he hailed its rising, and proclaimed to the people around him their duty of worship to the coming God. This is a theory that would connect Ireland's Round Towers with the most ancient form of religion — the false religion, which truth dispelled when, coming with the Sun of Heaven, and show- ing before Irish intellect the glories of the risen Saviour, — the brightness of the Heavenly Sun dimmed forever the glory of the earthly, and dispelled the darkness of the human soul, which had filled the la^d before with its gloom. This is not the time nor the place to enter into an archaeological argu- ment as to whether the Bound Towers are of Pagan or Christian origin, or as to whether they are the offspring of the famous 5ob^T) S<\oti or of any other architect, or of the men of the fifth or of the sixth centuries : or whether they go back into the times of which no vestige remains upon the pages of history or in the traditions of men ; — this, I say, is not the time to do it. I attempted this once ; and while I was pui-suing my argument, as I imagined, very learnedly and veiy profoundly, I ISaw a man sitting opposite to me open his mouth ; and he gave a yawn ; and I said in my "7!H^ HISTORIC RUINS OF IRELANBy 39 own mind, to myself: " Mj dear friend", if you do not close vour dissertation, that man will never shut his mouth ; " for I thought the top of his head would come off. But no matter what may be the truth of, this theovy or that, concerning the Round TowerS, one thing is certain,-r- and this is the point to which I wish to speak, — that as they stand to-day, in the strength of their material, in the beauty of their form, in the perfection of their architecture, in the scientific principles upon which they were built, and which they reveal, they are the most ancient among the records of the most ancient nations, and distinctly tell the glorious tale of the early civilization of the Irish people. For, my friends, remember that among the evidences of progress of civilization, among the nations, there is no more powerful argument or evidence than that which is given by their pub- lic buildings. When you reflect that many centuries after- wards, — ages after ages, — even after Ireland had become Catholic, — there was no such thing in England as a stone building of any kind, much less a stone church, — when you reflect that outside the pale of the ancient civilization of Gi-eece and Home there was no such thing known among the Northern and Western nations of Europe as a stone edifice of any kind, — then I say, from this I conclude that these venerable PiUar Temples of Ireland are the strongest argu- ment for the ancient civilization of our race. But this also explains the faxit that St. Patrick, when he preached in Ire- land, was not persecuted ; that he was not contradicted ; that it was not asked of him, as of every other man that ever preached the Gospel for the first time to any people, to shed his blood in proof of his beliet No ; he came not to a barbarous people, — not to an uncivilised race ; but he came to a wonderfully