{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_16330/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_16330","id":"gutenberg_16330","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16330","summary":null,"tags":["Category: How To ...","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Category: Teaching & Education","Catholic Church -- Clergy -- Religious life"],"text":"Produced by Angela\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE YOUNG PRIEST'S KEEPSAKE\n\nBy  MICHAEL J. PHELAN, S.J.\n\nSecond Edition.\n\nDUBLIN\nM. H. GILL AND SON, LTD.\nAND WATERFORD\n1909\n\n\n\n1st. Edition           MAY, 1909.\n2nd.   --    Enlarged, NOV., 1909.\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\nThis little book is written in the hope that it may assist young\npriests and ecclesiastical students to meet the demands which the\nlife before them has in store.\n\nWorks specially suited to the priest, the layman and the nun are\nhappily abundant; but to the young man standing on the threshold\nof his career as a priest, how few are addressed. Yet it is while\nhis character is in the formative stage, and his weapons are\nstill in the shaping, that advice and direction are of most\npractical value.\n\nThe writer brings to his task only one qualification on which he\ncan rely--his own personal experience.\n\nAfter having gone through a long course of preparation in Irish\necclesiastical colleges, he lived for nearly thirteen years on\nthe Australian mission, and is now completing a decade spent in\ngiving missions and retreats in all parts of Ireland. Of the\ncollege, therefore, and of the foreign and home missions he can\nspeak with whatever authority a long experience and ordinary\npowers of observation are supposed to give.\n\nIn dealing with the foreign mission he does not rely solely on\nhis own judgment. Many matters here treated of he heard\nrepeatedly discussed by priests abroad, who bitterly deplored\nthat, while in college, they knew so little of the life before\nthem, and regretted that there was then no kind friend to take\nthem by the hand and show them what was in store when the day\ncame for them to plunge into a life that was strange and entirely\nnew. It is to be hoped that this modest volume will, in part at\nleast, discharge the office of that friend.\n\nIt may appear, at first sight, that when writing the fourth\nchapter, \"On Pulpit Oratory,\" the author had before his mind an\nelaborate discourse, such as is expected only on great occasions.\nThis is not so.\n\nIt is true that the various parts of a sermon, when detailed in\nanalysis, may seem, like the works of a watch spread out on a\ntable, bewilderingly numerous and complex. But when we come to\nconstruct, it will be found that in synthesis the distracting\nnumber of small parts will disappear, to coalesce and form the\nfew main principles on which either a sermon or a watch is built.\nThese principles are essential to every discourse, no matter how\nbrief. As the humble seven-and-sixpenny \"Waterbury\" requires its\nsprings and levers equally with the hundred-guinea \"repeater,\" so\nthe twenty minutes' sermon, to be effective, must have a fixed\nplan and definite sequence as well as the more ambitious effort.\n\nMost of these chapters were written originally for the \"Mungret\nAnnual,\" with a view to assist the apostolic students who are\nnow, as priests, rendering such splendid service to the Church of\nGod abroad. And it was the very generous reception accorded the\narticles in the ecclesiastical colleges that suggested the idea\nof presenting them in the more lasting form of a book.\n\nSacred Heart College, Limerick,\n    _March_ 17, 1909, Feast of St. Patrick.\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\nTO THE SECOND EDITION\n\nThe rapid sale of the first edition of this work surprised no one\nmore than the author. It was not addressed to the public in\ngeneral, but to a limited section; the price, while moderate,\ncould not be called cheap; yet within a little over two months\nthe entire edition was exhausted.\n\nIt is impossible to express my deep gratitude to the reviewers.\nFrom them the book met with a chorus of approving welcome,\nwithout even one jarring note. To all I now tender my grateful\nthanks; but the author of \"My New Curate\" has placed me under a\nspecial obligation for his thoughtful critique in the _Freeman's\nJournal_, and Ibh Maine for his friendly review in the _Leader_.\nNor should I omit to thank the ecclesiastical colleges, that not\nonly pardoned the blunt candour of some of the chapters, but gave\nthe book a more than cordial reception.\n\nThe present edition includes two entirely new chapters--the two\nlast--extending over 45 pages. It is hoped that the added matter\nwill prove of as much interest as those chapters of the first\nedition which received such a hearty welcome.\n\nCollege of the Sacred Heart, Limerick,\n         _September_ 29, 1909, Feast of St. Michael.\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n  CHAPTER FIRST\n  CULTURE: ITS NECESSITY TO A YOUNG PRIEST\n\n  CHAPTER SECOND\n  ENGLISH: ITS NECESSITY TO A YOUNG PRIEST\n\n  CHAPTER THIRD\n  SHOULD A YOUNG PRIEST WRITE HIS SERMONS?\n\n  CHAPTER FOURTH\n  HOW SHOULD THE YOUNG PRIEST PREPARE HIS SERMONS?\n\n  CHAPTER FIFTH\n  A SOPHISTRY EXPOSED--ADVICE GIVEN--\n  THEOLOGIAN AND PREACHER--THE DIFFERENCE\n\n  CHAPTER SIXTH\n  THE ART OF ELOCUTION\n\n  CHAPTER SEVENTH\n  THE DANGER OF THE HOUR. HOW TO MEET IT\n\n  CHAPTER EIGHTH\n  THE YOUNG PRIEST'S ACTIVITIES\n\n\n\nCHAPTER FIRST\n\nCULTURE: ITS NECESSITY TO A YOUNG PRIEST\n\nIf you question any priest of experience and observation who has\nlived on the foreign mission, and ask him what constitutes the\ngreatest drawbacks, what seriously impedes the efficiency of our\nyoung priests abroad, without hesitation he will answer--First,\nwant of social culture; and, secondly, a defective English\neducation.\n\nTo the first of these this chapter will be exclusively devoted,\nwhile the subject of English will be dealt with in the chapter to\nfollow.\n\n[Side note: The case stated]\n\nOne of the great disadvantages of living in an island is that we\nget so few opportunities of seeing ourselves as others see us.\nWhen you seriously attempt to impress the necessity of culture on\nthe student preparing for the foreign mission he generally pities\nyou. In his eyes culture is a trifle, suited perhaps to the\nserious consideration of ladies and dancing masters, but utterly\nunworthy of one thought from a strong-minded or intellectual man.\nBut you tell him that without it the world will sneer at him. He\nthen pities the world, and replies--\"What do I care about the\nworld's thoughtless sneer; have I not a priestly heart and a\nscholar's head?\"\n\nThat reply, if he were destined to live in a wilderness, would be\nconclusive. An anchorite may attain a very high degree of\nsanctity and yet retain all his defects of character--his\ncrudity, selfishness, vulgarity. While grace disposes towards\ngentleness it does not destroy nature. There is no essential\nconnection between holiness and polished manners.\n\nNor does scholarship either require or supply culture. A mastery\nof the \"Summa\" will not prevent you from doing an awkward action.\nDr. Johnson's learning was the marvel of his age, but his manners\nwere a by-word. So, if your only destiny was to be a scholar or a\nhermit, manners need give you little trouble.\n\nBut your vocation is to be an apostle; to go out amongst men; to\nbe the light for their darkness, the salt for their corruption;\nthe aim and goal of your operations are human hearts. This being\ngranted, are you not bound to sweep from your path every\nimpediment that prevents your arm from reaching these hearts? But\nthe most effective barrier standing between you and them is\nill-formed manners.\n\nThe laws of good society, the refinement of gentlemanly culture\nmay, from your standpoint, be the merest trifles; but they become\nno trifles when without them your right hand is chained from\nreaching human souls.\n\nThe only remaining question is, Does the world to-day place such\na high value on good manners that if I go into it without them my\nefforts will be in a large degree neutralised? Entertain not a\nshadow of doubt on that point, such is the fact.\n\n[Side note: Protestants and Catholics demand culture in the\nPriest]\n\nProud and pampered society will never bend its stubborn neck and\nsubmit itself to the guidance of a man who, judged by its own\nstandard--the only one it acknowledges--is far from being up to\nthe level; an object of contempt perhaps, at best of pity. In its\nmost generous mood it is slow and cautious to take you on trust;\nits cold analysis searches you; your unplaned corners offend its\ntaste; and except in every detail you answer to its rule and\nlevel you are disdainfully thrust aside.\n\nCatholics, while they esteem a mere fop at his just value, expect\ntheir priest to rise above the sneers of the most censorious and,\nif possible, to challenge the respect of all. They are proud of\ntheir priest; and surely it is not too much to expect on his part\nthat he will do his best not to make them ashamed of him.\n\nTheir Protestant neighbours know of this pride; and if they can\nbut lay a finger on his evident defects they will glut their\ninborn hatred of the Church by hitting the Catholics on the\nsensitive nerve, by galling them by caricature and derision of\nthe _gauche_ manners of the priest.\n\nProtestant young men, too, will appeal to the pride of their\nCatholic companions; and an appeal to pride is generally a trump\ncard. They will ask--\"Is it possible that gentlemen could submit\nthemselves to the guidance of a clergyman whose manners are\nunformed and whose English is marred by provincialisms and\ndefective accent?\"\n\nIn speaking of accents, let me say here I do not ask the young\npriest to commit the signal folly of attempting to ingraft an\nimported accent on his own native one. No! He should speak as an\nIrishman, but as an educated Irishman.\n\n[Side note: By foreign Canons you will be judged]\n\nThe fatal mistake on the part of a young priest would be to take\nIrish opinion as the standard by which he will be judged outside\nIreland. In Ireland we call these things trifles, because the\npeople whose eyes are filled with the rich light of warm faith\nsee the _priest_ alone, and are blind, or at least generously\nindulgent, to the defects of the _man_.\n\nReverse this, and you have the accurate measure by which you will\nbe judged abroad. The _man_ and his defects alone are seen; the\n_priest_ and the sublimity of his state are entirely lost sight\nof. The world judges what it can understand--the _man_ alone.\nHence the student preparing for the foreign mission may take this\nas an axiom:--_If people cannot respect you as a gentleman, on\nthe non-Catholic world your influence is nil; and even on your\nown Catholic people it will sit very lightly_. But he replies--\n\"This is not logical, for a man may be an excellent priest, a\ngood scholar, without social accomplishments.\" All that I admit,\nbut age and experience will teach him that logic does not rule\nthe world; some of its greatest actions could not bear the\npressure of a syllogism. We must meet the world as it is, not as\nwe would make it. Is it not you who show logical weakness in\npreparing for this ideal world that has no existence outside your\nown dreams and ignoring the world of hard facts you will have to\nface?\n\n[Side note: No argument to be drawn from the Apostles]\n\nYou then appeal to facts and say, Look at the apostles. Let me\nanswer--first, you do not attempt to imply that crudity was a\nhelp to them. If so, how? Now, the most you can say is that in\nspite of it they succeeded. But you forget that they had the gift\nof miracles, and a sanctity so evident that their passport was\nsecure despite their defects.\n\nUnless you can produce the same sanctity and miracles your\nargument falls to the ground. But to the statement itself--Were\nnot the apostles men of manners? Some, it is true, before their\ncall had little connection with schools, but we may rest assured\nthat three years under such a teacher as they had did wonders.\nThey must be dull indeed not to read the living lesson their\nMaster's character daily taught. His tenderness, His courteous\ndignity, and gentle consideration for others were such that in a\nman we would say they almost bordered on weakness; this was the\nliving model on which they daily gazed and pondered.\n\nThis Master then sent them forth to \"all nations.\" They were to\nmix with the white-robed senators in Rome, and dispute with the\nhighest intellects of polished Athens, to force an entrance into\nevery circle of social life. Could we imagine God sending them\nforth to that task encumbered with defects that would paralyse\ntheir mission if not ensure its defeat.\n\nWe must also take into account the gifts of Pentecost. What a\nchange these wrought! The Holy Spirit enriched their intellects\nand perfected their moral virtues; their trembling wills became\nbraced as iron pillars. For what purpose? To prepare and equip\nthem for their destined mission. Is it not natural to suppose\nthat the same Divine Power swept their characters free from every\nimpediment that could hamper their ministry? So the appeal to the\napostles is gratuitous.\n\n[Side note: Culture necessary for domestic life]\n\nIn dealing with this question a young priest is to consider more\nthan his flock. Priests on the foreign mission live community\nlife, in hourly contact with each other. You cannot realise the\nagony a man inflicts on others by coarse or unpolished manners.\nThe toil of a priest's day is severe, but the hardest day is mere\nsummer pastime compared with the crushing thought of having to\nturn home to a boorish companion. This living martyrdom reaches\nits most acute stage when, in society, a man is forced to witness\na brother priest expose the raw spots of his character to the\nvitriolic cynicism of the scoffer.\n\nBut the importance of this subject is by no means exclusive to\nthe foreign mission. In Ireland, of late, a spirit of criticism\nhas shown itself, often exacting even to fastidiousness; so far\nfrom time being likely to blunt it, everything points to the\nprobability of its edge growing sharper with years. And the young\nIrish priest of the future who dares to trample on the canons of\ngood taste need expect scant mercy.\n\n[Side note: To arms]\n\nMy advice to all ecclesiastical students is--search and see if\nunmannerly ways are ingrafting themselves into your character. If\nso, give them no quarter. Master an approved handbook, and during\nthe recreations raise discussions on details of good manners. Ask\nyour friends candidly to point out your defects. It is far easier\nto be admonished by one friend whose correction is swathed in\nsoft charity than await till a dozen sneerers send their poisoned\narrows to fester in your heart. In correcting yourselves and\nasking your friends to admonish you, it will assist you to pocket\nyour pride, to remember that three such weighty issues as the\nefficiency of your ministry, the honour of the priesthood, and\nthe comfort of your future home will in a large measure be\ninfluenced by the degree of social culture you carry out of\ncollege.\n\nNo man has greater need to fear than he who stands high in his\nclass. When any habit becomes fixed it requires a high degree of\nhumility and moral courage to root it out. But, intellectual\npride, nourished by college triumphs, is up in arms. He scorns to\nbe corrected or taught by a world he despises. Let me ask, did\nGod give him these intellectual gifts for himself or as\ninstruments by which to win souls back to their Father? The man\nwho, rather than bend his own pride, allows his talents to become\nuseless incurs an awful responsibility.\n\nStubbornly refuse to be corrected or to shape and polish your\nmanners while in college, and one thing I absolutely promise you,\nwith all the authority a long experience can give, that when you\ndo go out from the college you will meet a master that will bend\nand break you. The roasting fire of the world's scorn will search\nthe very marrow of your bones.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER SECOND\n\nENGLISH: ITS NECESSITY TO A YOUNG PRIEST\n\nLet me begin by asking one plain question--If all the scholastic\nwealth with which St. Thomas has enriched the world lay embedded\nin the mind of a Missionary priest: if he more than rivalled\nSuarez as a casuist, and Bellarmine as a controversialist, yet if\nhe failed to acquire a mastery over the only instrument by which\nhe could bring to bear the riches of his own intellect on the\nminds of those around him, of what value is all the wealth\nentombed within his head?\n\nIf he has acquired no command of the rich vocabulary, the\ngraceful elegance of diction, the mysterious beauty of\nexpression, the abundant illustration, the art of storing nervous\nvigour and living thought into crisp and pregnant terseness: if\nthis one weapon, a finished English education, is not at his\ndisposal, his knowledge, as far as others are concerned, is so\nmuch lumber: to the one spot alone--the Confessional--his\nefficiency is narrowed. The other fields of his ministry are\ndeprived of the immense service this learning might afford.\n\nLet us see how this works out in practice. The unctions of\nordination are scarcely dry on your hands till you begin to\nrealise what you never realised before--viz., that in the most\nliteral sense of the word you belong to the Church Militant.\n\nYou go out from college, you are quickly confronted with\nopposition. At once your brain begins to hew arguments of massive\nsolidity; had you but the skill with which to hurl them you would\noverwhelm the stoutest foe. This skill you have not got, you\nnever mastered the sciences by which you could smite the\naggressor. With rage you, perhaps for the first time, realise\nyour own deficiency. Your arms are pinioned by helpless ignorance\nof the use of what should be one of the first weapons of the\npriest. Your thoughts now struggle for birth, but are fated to\ndie stillborn, while the foe laughs you in the face.\n\nIs this not a sad pity: _yet it is an everyday fact_.\n\nThere are sixty millions of Irish money lying in the banks\nthroughout this country, yet the nation is perishing from\natrophy, starving for want of commercial nourishment. If the gold\nnow piled in banks were but circulated through the channels of\nindustry, every limb of national life would pulse with new\nvigour, the remotest corner of the land would feel the influence\nof the golden current; so, within the mind of the priest may be\nhoarded treasures of deepest learning, but unless he has the art\nof minting and circulating through his parish the glittering coin\nof polished thought, though his brain be an _El Dorado_ of\nwealth, that parish will run into spiritual bankruptcy.\n\n\"You are the Light of the World,\" said Christ to His Apostles.\nThe same, in effect, He will say to the young priest the day he\nsets out to continue the work they began; but how will that\nlight, of which he is the bearer, reach the darkened world for\nwhich God has destined it if he neglects to arm himself with the\nlight-diffuser: the only medium of communication between him and\nhis people? Though the sun is poised in the firmament above us,\nthis earth would remain for ever wrapped in midnight darkness\nwere it not that there is an interposing medium--whatever it\nbe--to waft to us its heat waves and carry its splendours to the\ntiniest nook and crevice. The language, its graces and powers,\nare for the priest the instruments by which darkened minds are\nillumined, by which the clear rays of living truth are flashed\ninto their gloom.\n\nThe man that neglects to acquire a mastery of this instrument\nincurs a great responsibility.\n\nThe devil, too, has a message to deliver, a message of error; but\nat his command there are not only perverse intellects but all the\nelegance of polished language and all the persuasive graces of\nelocution.\n\n[Side note: An illustration from everyday life]\n\nLet me take an illustration from everyday life. A Catholic child\nunder his father's roof has religion instilled into him. He goes\nto school, and here his knowledge is developed and enlarged. From\nthe schoolroom he is transplanted into the world to strike roots\nif he can in stubborn soil and preserve his faith amidst the\nice-chills of infidelity.\n\nFoes beset him on every side. He turns to the public library. The\ninfidel review is crisp in style, its arguments catchy, and the\nbrilliancy of its diction captivates. The pages of the\nfashionable novel are strewn with the rose leaves of literature:\nthe plot enthrals. The arguments of the free-thought lecturer are\nwell reasoned, the sophistries artistically concealed, whilst his\nmastery over the graces of elocution holds his audience\nspell-bound.\n\nThe young man staggers. He now turns to where he should expect to\nfind strength. Under the pulpit next Sunday is a mind where the\nmists of doubt are gathering and darkening. He looks up to the\n\"Light of the World\" to have these mists dispelled. Instead of\nseeing his foes battered with their own weapons he sees these\nweapons, that in every domain are conquering for the devil, here\ndespised.\n\nHe is forced to listen, perhaps, to an exhibition of tedious\ncrudity. He goes away disheartened; perhaps to fall.\n\nNow, the solid theological knowledge in that preacher's head is\nmore than sufficient to shatter the arguments of infidelity; the\nanalytic power acquired during his college course would enable\nhim to tear every sophistry to shreds; but the art of making both\nof these effective for the pulpit, the mastery of clear and\nnervous English, the elocution that sends every argument like a\nquivering arrow of light to its mark, these he neglected, or\nperhaps contemned.\n\nThis is our weak spot; here our position wants strengthening.\n\nSit by the fireside with that preacher and suggest the\nadvisability of cultivating English and elocution. He replies: \"I\nhave two thousand souls to look after, sodalities to work up,\nschools to organise, and attend, perhaps, four sick calls in one\nnight.\" No, _not now, but long years before_, he should have been\ntrained. It is not on the battlefield, when the bugle is sounding\nthe \"charge,\" that the soldier should begin to learn the use of\nhis weapons. In the college, and not on the field of action, is\nthe place to acquire this science.\n\n[Side note: A ruinous advice]\n\nOne of the most fatal directions ever tendered to Irish students\nis--devote all your college years to Classics, Philosophy, and\nTheology _exclusively_--these are your professional studies--and\nwhen you become a curate it will be time to master English and\nElocution.\n\nAnalyse this and see what it means. Do not learn English or its\nexpression till you are flung into a village without a soul to\nstimulate or encourage you; or, worse still, till you find\nyourself in the fierce whirl of an English or American city.\n\"Wait till you are in the pulpit and then begin to learn to\npreach\" is very like advising a man to wait till he is drowning\nand then it will be time enough to learn how to swim. Would any\nsane man give such an advice to an aspirant of the fine arts?\nWhat would be thought of the man who would say--\"If you wish to\nbecome a good musician neglect to learn the scales till you come\nto your twenty-fifth year; or if it is your ambition to be a\ngreat painter, permit a quarter of a century to roll over your\nhead before you learn how to hold the palette or mix the paints.\"\nThe man that would tender such ridiculous advice would be laughed\nat. Yet it is not one whit more absurd than the transparent\nnonsense that has grown hoary from age, and passes unchallenged\nas a first principle.\n\nIt is often asked how is it that the Irish Church has remained so\nbarren.\n\nEighty years have passed since the bells of the thatched chapels\nrang in Emancipation. During that time over three thousand\ntalented priests are on the land; yet how small the number of\nworks produced. Why such a miserable result? What has sterilised\nthe intellects of these men? Mainly this fatal advice. How could\nwe have literary tastes among the priests in their pastoral life\nwhen such tastes were either frowned down during their college\ncareer or postponed to a period when their cultivation became an\nimpossibility.\n\n[Side note: You must begin while young]\n\nNo man can become a preacher without becoming a writer first. I\nneed not labour this proposition. A single quotation from the\nhighest authority establishes it. When Cicero was asked the\nquestion--\"How can I become an orator?\" his one answer was--\n\"_Scribere quam plurimum_.\" The first step to oratorica eminence\nwas--write as much as possible.\n\nNow, ask any distinguished writer when did _he_ begin to\ncultivate a literary taste. He will tell you with Pope that he\n\"lisped in numbers.\" He began almost with the dawn of reason. If,\nthen, pen practice must be the first step towards pulpit success,\nit is while the fancy is tender that it should be trained; while\nthe receptive powers are hungry in youth they should be fed;\nwhile the habits of thought are fresh and flexible they should be\nexercised. Wait till the hoar frost of age nips the rich blooms\nof imagination and stiffens the once nimble powers of the mind,\nand the cast-iron habits of maturer years have settled on you:\nliterary culture is then an impossibility.\n\nWhat does this culture imply? A developed insight into the\nbeauties of thought; a just appreciation of style; an intimate\nacquaintance with the best authors; an abundant vocabulary and\ngraceful expression. Can these be acquired in a year? or is the\ntime for acquiring them seasoned manhood?\n\nHow worthless and pernicious is this one word \"Wait,\" here more\nthan ever, where mastery of language is in question. But a glance\nshows how much more absurd it is to let a man pass out of his\nteens before putting him through a thorough course of elocution.\nIt is while the muscles of throat and lungs are as flexible as a\npiece of Indiarubber, and the young ear sensitive to every\n_nuance_ of sound, the future priest must learn to articulate, to\npronounce correctly, to husband his breathing, to bend his voice\nwith ease and mastery through the varied octaves of human\npassion.\n\nA piece of advice which I would give to a young priest who may\nfind himself within reach of an elocution master is to place\nhimself under his guidance for at least the first twelve months.\n\nThe very best student elocutionist has, on leaving college, but a\ntheoretic knowledge of the art of preaching. To weave the\nprinciples and graces he there acquired into his own compositions\nin the pulpit is a new experience. To do this with effect he\nstill requires the master's guiding hand.\n\nHe should deliver his sermons in the presence of that master,\ninvite him to his church, and ask him to note defects for\ncorrection. This plan I have seen acted on with eminent results:\nit may be a young priest's making: at its lowest estimate it is\nworth gold.\n\n[Side note: A workable plan]\n\nI can well imagine the young reader objecting that I would have\nhim turn from his study-desk, where Lehmkuhl and St. Thomas lie,\nto practise composition and elocution. No, but I want to show how\nall I have put before him can be done without encroaching to the\nextent of one hour on his ordinary class studies.\n\nI. Let the most hard-working student gather carefully the golden\nsands of wasted time that lie strewn even through the busiest\nordinary day and see what they amount to in a year. Why not hoard\nand mint them; for his class knowledge will, to a great extent,\nbe buried treasure except he has the engine by which to deliver\nit to others.\n\nA student should permit no day to pass without writing out at\nleast one thought. Cover but half a sheet of notepaper--correct,\nprune, condense, clarify, and then, if you wish, burn it, yet, it\nis a distinct gain. You are shaping a sword that will stand you\nin good need yet.\n\n2. During study hours an English author should lie on the desk.\nWhen the head grows wearied, instead of uselessly goading the\ntired jade or consuming brain tissue on that most fatiguing of\noccupations, day dreaming, sip a page or two of English. You rest\nyour brain, and while doing so store up knowledge, silently\ndevelop taste and acquire style.\n\n3. Again, how are vacations consumed? The student who does not\nread at least two hours a day is letting a golden opportunity\npass and wasting a precious gift of God--time. It may be said\nthat this after all is a rather slow process; it will only mean\nabout a volume a month. Yes, but that means twelve in a year, or\nat least eighty-four in your course, not a bad stock to start\nlife with.\n\n4. In the training of the future priest the recreation hour can\nbe converted into the most important item on the day's programme.\nHe plunges from the silence of the study hall into the vortex of\nthe world, for it is the world in miniature; its passions, its\npride, its meanness, as well as its gentleness of heart and\nheroism of spirit are all flowing around him. If properly\nutilised, the recreations can be minted into veritable gold. In\nthe term \"recreation\" I include all those occasions of free\nintercourse where students meet to interchange thought--the hall,\nthe club, &c.--and the more numerous these are the better. Here\nthe student is his natural self, unrestrained by a master's\npresence. The young minds are free to wrestle, and opposing\nthoughts to clash. The fire of contradiction will test the\ngenuine ore: the same fire will consume all that is worthless in\nhis opinions and principles: the clay and alloy of his character\ntoo will go.\n\nHe learns to cast away many a cherished notion now dinged and\nbroken in the war of minds; he is taught to distrust himself and\ntolerate the opinions of others. If the recreation, however, is\nto be a mental gymnasium it must be guided by fixed rules, and\nthis is most important.\n\nThe tone must be of a high level. No vulgarity; no scurrility.\n_In the hottest debate we must not forget that we are gentlemen_.\n\nWe should argue, not to overcome an opponent, but to make truth\nevident. Minds in debate should resemble flails on the threshing\nfloor, that labour not to overcome each other, but to separate\nthe solid grains from the chaff and straw.\n\nNo man should be ashamed to say \"I don't know\" or \"Perhaps I am\nwrong.\"\n\nWithout these safeguards the recreation or debate might easily\nbecome a cock-pit of unbridled passions. \"Our fortunes lie not in\nour stars, good Brutus, but in ourselves.\" The making of the\npriests depends not merely on the college, but also on the\nstudents' own endeavours. This latter fact is but imperfectly\nunderstood, or acted on only in a very limited extent. It is from\nintercourse between minds of various bents, the debating clubs,\nthe social unions, and not the lecture halls or study desks, that\nthe Oxford student draws strength and elegance of character. It\nis the want or misuse of these opportunities that leaves the\nyoung Irish priest so raw and unfinished.\n\n_Knowledge_ only comes from the professor and the book, but the\n_character_ is shaped, rounded, and polished by a variety of\nagencies lying outside both these. The creation of these agencies\nis almost entirely in the student's own hands.\n\n[Side note: The dangers of the hour and how to meet them]\n\nIf the Irish priest on the foreign mission is to become a force\nin the future, his course of philosophy must be both solid and\npractical.\n\nThe last half century has not only changed the arms of his\nadversaries but transferred the conflict to new grounds.\n\nProtestantism is dying. The mere veneer of Christianity is fast\nfading off among the sects.\n\nThe cobwebs of neglect are overspreading the works of theological\ncontroversy; but in the domain of ethics and metaphysics activity\ndaily grows in intensity.\n\nThe student would do well to keep this fact before his eyes. It\nis proper that a priest should be conversant with the errors of\nthe past and the arguments by which they are met. Many of these\nerrors he will discover exhumed, draped in new disguises, and\nparaded as the fruit of modern \"thought.\" But it will be well\nalso, in his studies, not to ignore the fact that the Agnostic\nand the Socialist are, under his very eyes, digging what they\nconfidently assure us is to be the grave of Christianity.\n\nAgnosticism and Socialism are the two great forces to be reckoned\nwith in the immediate future.\n\nPoison-thought has eaten the vitals of non-catholic sectaries.\nThe teaching of so-called Christian churches has evaporated into\na mere natural theism, the supernatural element has disappeared.\nBoth the Socialist and Agnostic frankly confess that the\ndemolition of the sects is but a preliminary skirmish: the real\nbattle lies farther afield. The lines of conflict between us and\nthem are daily drawing closer, and it is a question of brief time\ntill we are locked in deadly grip. How are we preparing for this\nstruggle, which may yet convulse the world?\n\nThe future priest must be made familiar with the modern\nobjections _in their native dress and form_.\n\nThe aspirant for the foreign missions has a tough quarry before\nhim: it behoves him to steady his hand and point his weapon.\n\nYoung men complain of the length and tediousness of the years\nconsumed in preparation for the Ministry. Could I but engrave on\ntheir minds the conviction as it lives, fixed and definite, on my\nown as to the equipment requisite for the efficient discharge of\ntheir great office; could I but show them the thousands untouched\nthat might be within her fold to-day, were the Church's workmen\nfully aware of the pressing needs of modern life, they would\ncount that hour as lost that did not contribute its quota towards\ntheir arming for the future.\n\n                            ------\n\nP.S.--I cannot do better than here append a list of those books I\nfound in practical experience most valuable in meeting modern\nthought. I would earnestly ask every aspirant for the foreign\nmission not to leave the college till he has a familiar\nacquaintance with every page of them. I take it for granted that\nthe transcendent merits of \"Catholic Belief\" and \"Faith of our\nFathers\" are so well known, especially as books for intending\nconverts, that there is no need to add them to the list on the\nfollowing page.\n\n  Dealing with Agnosticism, &c.\n  \"Liberalism and the Church\"           _Brownson_.\n  \"Notes on Ingersol\"                   _Lambert_.\n  \"The Newest Answer to the Old Riddle\" _Gerrard_.\n  \"New Materialism\"                     _Gaynor_.\n\n  Dealing with Socialism\n  \"Pope Leo XIII. on Labour.\"\n  \"Labour and Popular Welfare\"          _Mallock_.\n  \"Socialism\"                           _Cathrein_.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER THIRD\n\nSHOULD A YOUNG PRIEST WRITE HIS SERMONS?\n\n[Side note: Clearing the ground]\n\nThat the young priest may discharge the office of preacher with\nefficiency and honour, not only must he bring ability and\nindustry to his task, but he must approach it with a mind free\nfrom false theories. One unsound principle may mean shipwreck.\nAmongst the many questions discussed by aspirants to pulpit\nsuccess, perhaps the greatest prominence is given to the relative\nmerits of the written or the extemporary sermon. This is so\nimportant that its full treatment demands an entire chapter.\n\nBefore coming to close quarters we may premise a question. If the\ncarefully prepared sermon cost as little trouble as the\nextemporary effort, would the world ever have heard of this\ndiscussion? Oh! the fatal tendency to move on the lines of least\nresistance, to glide on the downward slope, and when we have\nreached the bottom to manufacture arguments and apologies\njustifying the course we selected! When the question is probed to\nthe bottom you will find that all advocacy of extemporary\npreaching resolves itself into an apology for laziness.\n\nTo me the question has long since ceased to be anything more than\na mere academic one, useful perhaps for a debating class, where\nyouthful gladiators flesh their harmless swords. In practical\nlife, the well written, the well prepared sermon was the only one\nI discovered able to bear the test of experience.\n\n[Side note: Manning]\n\nAt the threshold of this discussion the authority of Cardinal\nManning may be invoked against us, who, without condemning the\nwritten sermon, shows a decided preference for speaking from\nnotes. A written sermon, such as advocated, could scarcely be\nbefore his mind when he wrote that chapter in \"The Eternal\nPriesthood.\" It is evident he had in view the post-renaissance\npreacher--vain, pompous, decked in borrowed ornament, anxious\nabout the embroidery, and careless about the soul of his\ndiscourse. The species, thank God, is extinct.\n\nAt any rate, if Cardinal Manning meant to condemn the written\ndiscourse such as we understand it, is he triumphantly answered\nby himself. The man who advises you to preach from notes and then\nlaunches upon the world a goodly set of volumes of carefully\nwritten sermons, every line of which passed under his correcting\npen, requires no refutation. His action nullifies his advice. It\nis to be feared, too, that in forming his judgment he relied too\nmuch on his own experience, and out of it drew conclusions for\nothers, who could never hope to have his exceptional advantages--\na fatal mistake.\n\nBefore his conversion he had completed a distinguished career at\nOxford. Of the English language and its perfect use he was a past\nmaster. The copiousness of diction, elegance of phrase, the power\nof expressing himself in graceful strength were eminently his.\nHis intellect was stored with abundant knowledge drawn from many\nsources. The thoughts of his well-ordered mind stood in line as\ndefinite and orderly as soldiers on parade. The fibres of his\nreasoning had waxed strong in encounters with the ablest\nintellects of the day and before the most distinguished audiences\nin the literary and debating clubs at Oxford. Add to this the\nfact that in a keen knowledge of the human heart, its strength\nand weakness, he was surpassed by no man of his age. This was the\nequipment with which Manning started life, and it is to be feared\nhe pre-supposed this, or a great part of it, to be in possession\nof those for whom he wrote.\n\nNow, what young priest, even the most brilliant of his class,\ngoing on the mission can pretend to the hundredth part of the\nadvantages that enabled Manning to dispense with the written\npage? Therefore, to conclude that because he, under such\nprivileged circumstances, succeeded, you can do the same under a\nvery different set of conditions, is to ignore the hard logic of\nfacts and pay a poor compliment to your reason.\n\n[Side note: Father Burke and O'Connell]\n\nThen, we are confronted not with opinions but names--the two\nnames that will stand for all time in the forefront of Irish\norators are those of O'Connell and Father Burke. O'Connell wrote\nbut one speech--his first. The orations delivered by Father Burke\nin America, by which he achieved a European reputation, were not\nwritten. What, then, it is asked, becomes of the advocacy of the\nwritten sermon? The answer to this argument is evident. If the\nquestion is reduced to one of great names, into the other side of\nthe scales may be thrown not two but dozens of the most\nillustrious men who not only wrote, but _became famous mainly\nbecause they wrote_.\n\nPassing by the great pagan orators, Cicero and Demosthenes, and\nthe Doctors of the Church, Saints Augustine, John Chrysostom,\n&c.--these all wrote, polished and elaborated--we come to the\nfour names that have flung a deathless glory around the French\npulpit, that created a golden era of sacred eloquence which has\nnever been surpassed: Bourdaloue, Bossuet, Massillon, and\nFenelon. I will not labour the argument by showing how much of\ntheir strength and fame rested on the construction of their\nsermons. But, to return to the intrinsic merits of the\nstatement--yes, O'Connell and Father Burke were great orators in\n_spite of_, and _not because of_, the fact that they spoke\nextemporarily. So crude were some of O'Connell's speeches, so\ncareless was he of their dress, that Shiel complained: \"He flung\na brood of young, sturdy ideas upon the world, with scarce a rag\nto cover them.\"\n\nIf ever there was a case when the man made the sermon instead of\nthe sermon making the man, it was the case of Father Burke. How\nlittle he owed to his sermons and how much they owed to his\ndelivery is left on record by a capable judge. Sir Charles Gavan\nDuffy says: \"Father Burke was a born orator; the charm of _voice,\neye and action_ combined to produce his wonderful effects. When\nhis words were printed much of the spell vanished. One rejoiced\nto _hear_ him over and over again, but _re-read_ him rarely, I\nthink.\"[1] The greatest tribute that can be paid to the genius of\nthese two orators is that compositions, wordy, loose, abounding\nin repetitions, in their mouths enthralled multitudes. Every\ndefect disappeared; the mastery, the dazzling brilliancy of their\noratory swept all hearts and blinded criticism. We well may pause\nbefore answering the question: What effects would they have\nproduced had they time to write masterpieces of finished beauty\nlike those of Grattan and of Bourdaloue? where each link in the\nchain of argument hangs in glittering strength, and each thought\nshows the flash of the gem and its solidity too.\n\n[1] \"My Life in Two Hemispheres,\" Vol. II., 274.\n\n[Side note: Defence of the system I]\n\nThe first great difficulty against extemporary preaching is that,\nthough a priest studies his subject and maps his plan, he still\nreckons without his host. The mind aroused to activity and warmed\nby exertion is sure to spring new thoughts, arguments, and\nillustrations across his path. These offspring of latest birth\nclothed in freshness will prove a temptation too strong. He will\nswerve from the main line to pursue them: the tendency to chase\nthe fresh hare can scarcely be resisted. Then another new thought\nsprings up, and, alas! another fresh hunt. The defined sketch\nlying on his desk is abandoned: the new ideas have mastered him,\nbut he cannot master them. He labours himself to death without\navail, for there is neither point, argument, nor sequence: his\nsermon is a definition of eternity--without beginning and without\nend. The congregation is groaning in despair, and the only\nappreciated passage in the whole performance is the preacher's\npassage from the pulpit to the sacristy.\n\nNow, to a man who writes his sermon, such a catastrophe is\nimpossible. In the process of preparation the field is well\nbeaten and every thought that could arise secured. From the best\nof these his selection is made. To this selection he clings\nwithout danger of swerve. The road on which he travels is not\nonly mapped but free of ambush and surprises. The milestones are\nerected. He may not be a Bossuet or a Burke, but he speaks to a\ndefinite point, has a time to stop, and the people leave the\nchurch with a clear idea.\n\n[Side note: II.]\n\nThe defenders of extemporary preaching must postulate three\nessentials in any man undertaking the office. (I) Orderly\nthought. (2) Abundant vocabulary. (3) Accurate and graceful\nexpressions. Without these he cannot speak. Admit the want of any\none of them and the contention falls to the ground. Now, what\nyoung priest coming out of college has this equipment? It is a\nsingular fact, too, that these three can be acquired only by, and\nare the direct outcome of, pen practice. How is it that this fact\nhas escaped so many? \"Writing makes an exact man,\" says Bacon;\nand to the question: \"How can I become an orator?\" Cicero's\nanswer was: \"_Caput est quam plurimum scribere_.\" When then men\npoint to a Gladstone or a Bright as an example of an extemporary\norator we are entitled to ask: \"In what sense can they be called\nextemporary speakers, except in the most limited, since the well\nmarshalled ideas, the flowing periods and elegant graces of\ndelivery are the products of reams and reams of written pages and\nyears of patient drudgery?\" Yet, even with all these advantages,\non great occasions it was on the written page they relied. Till\nthe young priest, then, comes to his task as well furnished as a\nGladstone or a Bright, the advocates of extemporary speaking are\nout of count.\n\n[Side note: III.]\n\nThe extemporary preacher challenges nature on her own ground. No\none need doubt the issue. Nature will conquer, and the man who\ndefies her will succumb. He endeavours to think, to select\nword-clothing for his thoughts, to labour his memory, and deliver\nhis sermon, and performs all four operations at the same time, a\ntask clearly impossible, but more so when we remember the usual\nembarrassments that beset a young preacher--the nervous\nagitation, the want of self-control, the desire to succeed. It\nends generally in a stammer and then a break, greeted by the\ncongregation with a sigh of relief or perhaps a sneer of\ncontempt.\n\nIs it by preaching such as this you hope to challenge the respect\nand get a hold on the intellect of a cynical world? Is it through\nsuch instrumentality you would bring home the Church's message to\nproud and festering humanity? No one can succeed who attempts\nmore than one task at a time.\n\nLook to analogy. At the moment when a regiment is expected to\ncharge, you don't find it engaged in collecting ammunition,\nsharpening swords, and learning drill. All these necessary\npreliminaries are long since completed. Now every bridle is\ngrasped, every sword hilt in grip, and the rowelled heels are\nready to dash into the horses' flanks at the first note of the\ntrumpet blast.\n\nThe preacher should come to the pulpit in a like state of\npreparedness, with his thoughts already gathered, moulded,\npolished and clothed in the words that fit them best; with every\nargument as definite and well knitted as a proposition in Euclid;\nthe page swept clear of superfluous verbiage; each idea standing\nout bright as a jewel in its setting, and the whole so thoroughly\ncommitted to memory that he can defy the most critical to\ndiscover a trace of effort. He should come, holding his\nelocutionary forces in reserve, and ready, when the moment\narrives, to flash from his lips each living thought and send from\nhis heart the waves of subtle, unseen fire to melt, rock, or\nsubdue the hearts of others, instead of attempting four tasks\nsimultaneously, and failing in all. His sole business in the\npulpit is not to shape his message or to clothe his message, but\nto gather and converge all the powers within him for one grand\npurpose and it alone--to send that message home.\n\nThese pages are written mainly for the Irish priest on the\nforeign mission. It is well he should be under no delusion. In\nIreland a slipshod or unprepared sermon may meet with indulgent\ncharity. A very different reception awaits it abroad. The priest\nwho attempts it will quickly discover how he is set up for a sign\nthat shall be contradicted. The free, white light of open\ncriticism penetrates even the sanctuary. There is no dignity to\nhedge any man. Congregations smart at being treated to such poor\nfare, and will not leave him long in ignorance of their opinions.\nPerhaps while in the pulpit the sight of many a curving lip will\nmake the blood tingle or cause the shame spot to burn on his\ncheek.\n\nAgain, the priest on the foreign mission will never face a\ncongregation that is not sprinkled with Protestants or\nunbelievers. Should he not then consider the feelings of his own\npeople who are humiliated or filled with honest pride by the\nmanner in which their pastor acquits himself in the eyes of\nstrangers? Waiving then all supernatural motives, should not\nevery priest have sufficient manly pride, self-respect and\nsensibility for the honour of his exalted office to lift himself\nand his work above the sneer of the most censorious, and\nchallenge the respect, if not the admiration, of every listener?\n\nThe preparation should begin not on the day the sacred oils are\npoured on the young priest's hands, but on the day he enters\ncollege. His eyes should be kept fixed on the goal before him. \"I\nam to be a preacher, and every obstacle that stands on my path\nmust go down, and every advantage that goes to make a great\norator, at all costs, I must make my own.\" This ambition should\nbe nourished till it consumes him, till it becomes \"his waking\nthought, his midnight dream.\" His reading, recitation and debates\nshould be studied under the light of this lodestar of his\ndestiny: at first shining afar off, but swiftly nearing as each\nvacation ends.\n\n[Side note: Objectors answered I.]\n\nThose who champion the method of extemporary preaching lay great\nstress on two points. (I) The extemporary preacher has a natural\nwarmth and earnestness of conviction that goes straight to the\nheart. (2) These, they maintain, can never accompany the prepared\ndiscourse. Let us examine these two statements. It is true that\nwhen men speak under the influence of strong emotions, passion\nmay, in a large measure, compensate for accurate expression and\nsequence of thought, especially with a rude or half educated\naudience. In proof of this, Peter the Hermit and Mahomet are\nstriking examples. We are dealing, however, not with\nextraordinary but the ordinary demands on a priest's powers, and\nit would be poor wisdom to stake all his success on the chance\nmoods of his temperament. To-day the tempest may rock his soul\nand his words bear the breath of flame; but, by next Sunday, the\nspirit has passed, his passions are ice chill; he is confronted\nwith the duty of preaching, and on what support shall he now\nlean? We must also remember that with increasing education the\npopular mind is becoming more analytic, and congregations less\nwilling to accept emotions, no matter how sincere, as a\nsubstitute for reason.\n\nThe second statement--that the written sermon cannot be vitalized\nwith fervour--seems childish in face of the fact that even\nactors, speaking the thoughts of men dead three hundred years,\nmove people to tears or cause their blood to blaze. The great\npulpit orators, to whom allusion has already been made, preached\ncarefully written sermons, yet over ten thousand hearts they\npoured lava tides that swept every prejudice in their fiery\nbreaths.\n\n[Side note: Shiel]\n\nWhat, then, becomes of this trite assumption when there are iron\nfacts like these to fall upon it? Again, it is objected that the\nfreshness disappears in elaborate preparation, and an\noft-repeated sermon becomes stale to its author. Shiel, we are\ntold, \"always prepared the language as well as the substance of\nhis speeches. Two very high excellences he possessed to a most\nwonderful degree--_the power of combining extreme preparation\nwith the greatest passion_.\"\n\n[Side note: Wesley]\n\nThat disposes of the first statement. Now, does the repetition of\nthe same sermon cause it to grow flat? Listen to the actor on his\nhundredth night, and see have he and his words grown weary of\neach other. Wesley wrote every sermon, and repeatedly preached\nthe same discourse, with the result that so far from losing by\nrepetition it gained; and Benjamin Franklin, who was the American\nambassador in England at the time, assures us he never became\ntruly eloquent with a sermon till he had preached it thirty\ntimes. The following graphic picture of the effects produced by\nthe preaching of Wesley and his two companions will scarcely help\nto support the theory that a sermon preached frequently becomes\nfruitless:--\"He looked down from the top of a green knoll at\nKingswood on twenty thousand colliers, grimy from the Bristol\ncoalpits, and saw, as he preached, the tears making white\nchannels down their blackened cheeks. . . . The terrible sense of\na conviction of sin, a new dread of hell, a new hope of heaven,\ntook forms at once grotesque and sublime.\"[2]\n\n[2] Green--\"Short History of the English People.\"\n\nWe have heard preachers from whose lips each thought fell as\nfresh and as hot as if that moment only it welled up from the\nfountains of the heart; yet each rounded and chiselled sentence,\nthat seemed to flow so spontaneously, cosily nestled between the\ncovers of their manuscripts. We have watched the varied gestures,\nthe cadences of voice and facial expression to harmonize with and\nso express the sense of the words that one seemed to grow out of\nthe other; still these graces of elocution, that looked so\nartless and so charming, were the fruit of long years of study.\nAll was fresh! All was natural! All palpitated with the blood of\nlife, yet all were the products of previous toil. It is nonsense,\nthen, for any man to assert that the written sermon must bear the\nstamp of artificiality or that the fire evaporates in the passage\nfrom the desk to the pulpit.\n\n[Side note: II.]\n\nBut I may be told there is small time for writing sermons. It is\nsingular that where there is most time on a priest's hands there\nare fewest sermons on his desk. But to the objection. One of the\nstrongest motives urging the writer to insist on the written\nsermon is his deep conviction of the shortness of time, for there\nis no more expeditious way of squandering that precious gift of\nGod than by preaching extemporary sermons.\n\nThis is how the case stands. You have to spend as much time in\ngathering and arranging the matter for the extemporary as for the\nwritten one. Next year you may have to preach on the same gospel\nor feast; of what use will your notes be then? The ideas,\narguments, and illustrations that now spring to your mind with a\nglance at this cipher or note will then have vanished. The cipher\nremains, but its inspiring power has passed. The oracle is dumb.\nYou may summon spirits from the vasty deep--but will they come?\nYou have again to face your old task; year after year the same\ndrudgery awaits you with less hope of success. The brain, at\nfirst stimulated by novelty, poured forth the hot tide of\nthought; now it will answer only to the lash. At the end of five\nyears what hoarded reserve have you laid by? Your hands are as\nempty as the day you started, with this disadvantage, that you\nhave lost the habit of labour you acquired at college--a serious\nloss. When a man permits the fine edge of college industry to\nbecome blunted, the best day of his usefulness is passed. This\ntreadmill of ineffectual toil fills with disgust, till finally\nall efforts are abandoned, and the people are treated to Hamlet's\nreading: \"Words, words, words.\" This is the usual series of\nevolutions through which an extemporary preacher passes. He\nbegins with good intentions and bad theories. The system breaks\ndown, but his habits are now too set to try another, and so he\nruns to seed. Here you have explained the fruitlessness, indeed\nthe paralysis, of many a pulpit.\n\nIn the written sermon, on the other hand, you have a treasure for\nlife; years pass, but your sermon remains, an instrument becoming\nmore flexible and telling every time you use it. You are\nindependent of your mood, on which the extemporary preacher has\nto lean so much. You can also defy chance that may call you to\nthe pulpit at a day's notice. Your motto is: _Semper paratus_.\nYour brain may be barren and your feelings frigid, but here are\nthoughts already made and shaped. They are your own; and the mind\ninstinctively responds to the children of its own birth. It\nrises, clasps, and embraces them. The passion glow enkindles\nafresh; and heart and words are aflame with the ancient fires.\nWhen for the first five years you lay aside a well-written sermon\na month, what a handsome stock-in-trade is at your disposal for\nlife--your fortune is made.\n\n[Side note: Incitements to toil]\n\nThe world is in no humour to stand half-hearted work; it will bow\nits proud head only to the man who pours out sweat; and\nBourdaloue's standard of excellence will hold for all time. His\nanswer to the question \"What was your best sermon?\" is: \"The one\nI took the most pains with.\" His labour at the desk was the\nprecise measure of his success in the pulpit. The French have a\nproverb, \"_Tout vaut ce qu'il coute_.\" (\"Everything is worth what\nit costs.\")\n\nSee how laymen put our lethargy and its apologists to shame. Look\nat the author with pallid cheek and fevered brow, half starving\nin an attic, perfecting his style, polishing his periods. There\nis the actor, haggard, jaded, toiling for hours at a single\npassage, that he may interpret its meaning and enchain his\naudience. While the world is dreaming the barrister is studying\nhis brief, ransacking tomes, wading through statutes, in search\nof one to support his contention, knitting his defence in logical\nterseness, cudgeling his brains for ingenious appeals to move a\njury. The lives of eminent lawyers are records of appalling\ndrudgery.\n\nTurn to the great doctors of the church. After preaching for\nthirty years, St. Augustine did not consider himself free from\nthe obligation of writing his sermons. He prepared, he tells us,\n_cum magno labore_. \"I have,\" says St. John Chrysostom,\n\"traversed land and ocean to acquire the art of rhetoric.\" If\ngiants so laboured, who are we to expect exemption? Ah! if our\nbread entirely depended on our sermons, as a lawyer's on his\nbriefs or an actor's on his parts, what a revolution we should\nbehold! Yet how humiliating the thought! Every time you go into\nthe pulpit it is to plead a brief for Christ. The destiny of many\na soul hangs on your effort. Will you permit yourself to be\noutdone in generous toil by the lawyer, who consumes his night\nnot to save a man from an unending hell, but from a month's\nimprisonment?\n\nTo-day the devil's agents put forth sleepless activity. The world\nrings with the clash of warring forces. The priest, then, that\nidly folds his arms and manufactures sops for a gnawing\nconscience, while the very air is electric with the energies of\nassault, that priest is set up not for the resurrection but the\nruin of many in Israel.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER FOURTH\n\nHOW SHOULD THE YOUNG PRIEST PREPARE HIS SERMONS?\n\nThe pulpit, as an instrument for the salvation of human souls,\nholds, after the Sacraments, first place. Indeed the\nfrequentation and proper reception of the Sacraments themselves\nlargely depend upon it.\n\nNever since the first Pentecost was its agency a more pressing\nnecessity than to-day. The apostles of evil are busy. The\nprinting press teems beyond all precedent, obscuring truth and\nbelching forth poison over the world of intellect with a reckless\naudacity that scorns all restraint. The powers of darkness have\nseized, polished with unstinting labour and sharpened into\nslashing efficiency, the varied weapons in the armoury of the\norator--crispness of style, brilliancy of diction, a declamation\nthat covers the want of argument and gilds sophistry till it\npasses for truth. The question for us is--how shall we meet the\nenemy with steel as highly tempered as his own?\n\nCicero embraces within the compass of three words the whole scope\nof the orator.\n\n_Docere_.--To instruct the intellects of his hearers.\n\n_Placere_.--To use those varied arts and graces by which the\ninstruction is rendered palatable and agreeable.\n\n_Movere_.--To move their wills to action.\n\nThe last function is by far the most important.\n\nThe preacher's triumph lies not in the conviction of the\nintellect, nor in the approbation of the tastes, but in the\narousing of the wills of his hearers. The will is the goal-point\nat which he aims from the beginning.\n\nA doctor may persuade his patient that bitter medicine and active\nexercise are necessary, but so long as the sick man lies on the\nsofa and nods assent this barren conviction is of little profit.\nWhen, however, the persuasion forces him to take a six-mile walk\nand swallow the revolting draught, then, and only then, is\ntriumph secured. So a preacher may convince the habitual sinner\nof the heinousness of sin; he may win his applause by the cogency\nof his reasoning and the brilliancy of his style; but not till he\nhas moved his will to fling the old fetters to the winds, not\ntill he brings him a tearful penitent to the confessional, is his\nwork complete.\n\nWe shall now take the three words of Cicero in order.\n\n[Side note: _Docere_]\n\nHow shall we accomplish all implied in that word \"_docere_?\" How\nembed conviction in the minds of our hearers? Fill your own head\nto repletion with the subject; be ambitious to leave, if\npossible, no book unread, books of even collateral bearing. The\nmore thought stored up the more complete will be your mastery\nover the subject and the more abundant the materials from which\nto select. I was struck by a letter from Father Faber to a\nfriend:--\"I intend writing a book on the Passion. I have already\nread a hundred works on the subject; see if you can get me any\nmore.\" A hundred volumes, yet he looks for more! Hence his brain\nwas saturated with his subject, and when he tapped it, how\ncopiously it flowed! What books should I read?\n\n[Side note: What books to read]\n\nThe solid matter in Theology and the Sacred Scriptures and their\ndevelopments. A book of sermons is the last to open. Why? You\nwish to raise a structure, then go to the original quarry where\nyou have material in abundance. The arguments that bear the\nshaping of your own chisel, though not as polished as those you\nwould borrow, will fit more naturally and adorn with greater\ngrace. There are two great risks in reading sermon books--a\ntendency to imitate the style and a temptation to filch the\njewels. The style may be very sublime, but the question is will\nit suit you. Your neighbour's clothes may fit him admirably, but\non you they would hang lop-sided.\n\nThe second danger is even more fatal. A struggling tyro who makes\nan inartistic attempt to adorn his discourse with the most\nbrilliant passages from Bossuet renders his production not only\nworthless but grotesque. The man who can build a labourer's\ncottage handsomely should be content; but when he attempts to\nengraft upon it the turrets and pilasters of the neighbouring\nmansion he covers his work not with ornament but ridicule. \"Am I\nthen,\" you will ask, \"to cast aside the brilliant thoughts and\nhappy imagery I meet in my reading?\" No, I only ask you not to\nuse them _now_. Note them for re-reading. Cast them as nuggets\ninto the smelting-pot of your own brain. Trust to time and the\nalchemy of thought to transmute them. Wait till these thoughts\nbecome your thoughts. The intellect will assimilate this foreign\nmaterial and send it forth on some future occasion, palpitating\nwith the warm blood of natural life, to strengthen the frame-work\nof your reasoning or adorn your composition with veins of natural\nbeauty.\n\n[Side note: How shall I read?]\n\nRead with a pencil and paper slip beside you, not only to jot\ndown arguments and illustrations, but to seize on the\ninspirations that may come. The thoughts we get from books are\nnot at all as valuable as the train of natural ideas these books\nexcite. When the mind is once set going there is no knowing what\nrich ore it may strike. When the brain throbs in labour with\nthought struggling for birth, when the soul is full and the\nimagination in flame, this is the golden moment. Each idea now\nstands out clear cut as a cube of crystal, and colours of\nunwonted richness are draping the fancy. Hence, at all hazards,\nlay hold of this inspiration. Close the most interesting work;\nleave the most fascinating society; heed neither food nor sleep\ntill it is secured.\n\nFor you this spirit may never breathe again. Let this moment\npass, and when you do invoke the intellect it is cold and barren,\nand the heart that yesterday blazed with living fires holds\nlifeless ashes now. It is not always when you have pointed your\npencils and spread the virgin page before you thought will come.\nThe ideas that have revolutionized the world came at times and in\nplaces most unlooked for.\n\nWhen musing on the swaying Sanctuary lamp during Benediction,\nGalileo discovered the laws of the pendulum. Such a trifle as the\nfall of an apple suggested the laws of gravitation to Newton; and\nthe first idea of the steam engine came to Watt while he was\nwatching the lid rising from the boiling kettle. During a royal\nbanquet the argument to crush the Manicheans grew on the great\nmind of St. Thomas, and the king made his secretary write it down\non the spot. Had not these men trained themselves to admit and\nwelcome the angel visitant, no matter when or where he came, the\nstagnant pool of the world's ignorance might have remained for\never unstirred.\n\nYour notes are now before you, some the offspring of original\nthought and others culled from reading. The former require only\npolishing and shaping, but the latter must pass through your own\nintellect; every thought must feel the brain heat before it\nbecomes palatable. We do not ask people to eat meat raw, so we\nshould take care not to offer them ideas cold and untouched by\nthe warmth of our own reasoning. Think over, ruminate, roll them\nfrom side to side, let them sink down through the tissues of your\nown brain and settle there; then when you send them out warm,\nbearing the stamp of your own minting, they will be found\neffective.\n\nRemember that to translate dry theology into questionable\nEnglish, encumbered with technical expressions, is not writing a\nsermon; but the man who takes up the theological principles,\nsimmers them in his own thought, wraps them in the transparency\nof clear language, illustrating them with his own imagery, and\nthereby bringing them within the grasp of the meanest\nintelligence, that man, in a sense, creates the truth anew.\n\nYou begin the work of construction by making out a sketch\nargument. Let a well-jointed syllogism underlie and form the\nframework of your sermon. The conclusion of that syllogism must\nbe the goal point at which you aim. That once selected, all other\nparts of the sermon should tend towards it. As all roads lead to\nRome, so all members of the argument should converge to this\npoint. The congregation should leave the church with that idea\nfixed and clear as a star of light before their minds.\n\nIn writing, as in committing to memory, you should keep the\naudience ever before the mind's eye. Attack it on every side;\npursue it with argument, and never leave it in the power of an\nintelligent man to say: \"I do not understand what he means.\"\n\nThis habit of writing with the audience before us not only\nsecures cogency and point for our arguments and clearness for our\nillustrations, but it saves us from the fatal mistake of\nproducing not a sermon but an essay.\n\nHere our meditations assist us. The daily habit of balancing and\nintrospection enables a man to read and analyse his own heart,\nits strength and weakness. He becomes familiar with the springs\nand levers that move it, the storms that convulse and the\nsunshine that gladdens the mysterious world within his own\nbreast. How useful this knowledge when he comes to train the\nartillery of the pulpit on the hearts of others!\n\n[Side note: _Placere_]\n\nSo far we have been studying how to mortise the joints of our\narguments into well-knit and shapely strength; the pure\nscholastic, however, possesses but half the weapons of the\npreacher. The best built skeleton is repulsive till it is clothed\nwith flesh, colour and beauty. This is the rhetorician's task. He\ncomes with his graceful art, and drapes the dry bones of hard\nreasoning, clarifies the arguments by illustrations, clothes them\nin language crisp and sparkling, weaves around them the warm glow\nof fancy and renders the hardest truths palatable by the grace of\ndiction and delivery. He accomplishes all implied in the word\n\"_placere_.\"\n\nWhen rhetoric and logic clasp hands the standard of triumph is\nfairly certain to be planted above the stubborn heart. We must,\nhowever, remember that the arts of rhetoric are subordinate to\nthe reasoning, and must be brought forward only for the purpose\nof driving the reasoning home. But since man's faculties are not\ndivided into watertight compartments, neither should the sermon\nintended to influence him.\n\nOur reason is not independent of our passions; our feelings so\ninfluence our judgment that even in our greatest actions it is\nhard to disentangle and say so much is the product of one and so\nmuch of the other. The sermon should be constructed to fit the\nman; argument and emotion should not stand apart, but dovetail\nand interlace.\n\n[Side note: Sheil]\n\nIn the art of entwining the garlands of rhetoric around the\nframework of argument, Sheil stands conspicuous. Lecky says of\nhim--\"His speeches seem exactly to fulfil Burke's description of\nperfect oratory--half poetry, half prose. Two very high\nexcellencies he possessed to the most wonderful degree--the power\nof combining extreme preparation with the greatest passion and of\n_blending argument with declamation_.\n\n\"We know scarcely any speaker from whom it would be possible to\ncite so many passages with all the _sustained rhythm and flow of\ndeclamation, yet consisting wholly of the most elaborate\narguments_. He always prepared the language as well as the\nsubstance of his speeches. He seems to have followed the example\nof Cicero in studying the case of his opponent as well as his\nown, and was thus enabled to anticipate with great accuracy.\"\n\nThe hint contained in the last paragraph is invaluable to the man\nwho proves or expounds doctrine. It sometimes happens that there\nis an objection so natural that it seems to grow out of the\nreasoning. Perhaps, while the preacher is speaking, it is taking\nshape on the minds of the hearers; at least sooner or later it is\ncertain to recur.\n\nHow is it to be dealt with? Let it pass, and the audience carry\naway the argument with a cloud of doubt hanging around that goes\nfar to destroy its force. Or it may be that when he opens the\nmorning paper it confronts him, set forth in the most convincing\nshape, with the advantage of having, at least, twenty-four hours\nto rest on the public mind before he can touch it. Therefore, let\nno such objection pass, but grapple with it here and now, and\ntear it to shreds. Here you are master of the situation, and can\npresent the objection in a shape most accessible to your own\nknife. By anticipating an antagonist you break his sword and\nrender your own position unassailable.\n\nBefore our preacher goes into the pulpit just one word in his\near--Beware of two very common defects--(I) _Rapidity of speech_\nand (2) _Want of proper articulation_. A people who think warmly,\nas we Irish do, speak rapidly. Thought is rushed upon thought and\nsentence telescoped into sentence. Before sending forth an idea,\ntake care that its predecessor has got time to settle on the\nminds of your hearers. In articulation try to earn the eulogy\npassed on Wendell Philips: \"He sent each sentence from his lips\nas bright and clear cut as a new made sovereign from the mint.\"\n\n[Side note: _Movere_]\n\nWhat is the main weapon of the orator? Demosthenes answers--\n\"Action.\" Mr. Gladstone--\"Earnestness.\" But St. Francis Borgia\nprobably explains what both mean when he advises us to preach\nwith an evidence of conviction that makes it clear to the\naudience you are prepared to lay down your life at the foot of\nthe pulpit stairs for the truth of what you say.\n\nWithout this deep-seated conviction and the enthusiasm that flows\nfrom it, your fire is but painted fire, your thunder the thunder\nof the stage. This living earnestness is the spark that illumines\nand vitalizes all. Without it the best built sermon is but a\npainted corpse; but when the soul gleams forth in the flashing\neye and quivering lip, waves of unseen fire are issuing with\nevery sentence, and arrows of light silently piercing every\nheart. The most stubborn prejudices are forced to melt and the\nmost depraved wills are swept on the crest of the grand tidal\nwave, slowly gathering from the start; but when the preacher\nforgets himself and his surroundings, flings self-consciousness\naway, goes outside himself, pouring the hot tide from his own\nglowing heart, till every flash of his eye and every wave of his\nhand becomes a palpitating thought, then his audience surrender;\ntheir hearts are in the hollow of his hand, wax to receive any\nimpression; their wills can be braced and lifted to the sublimest\nheights of heroism--this is triumph.\n\n[Side note: O'Connell]\n\nIt is said that the great mastery O'Connell exercised over the\npeople mainly sprang from the passionate earnestness of his\nconviction. The nation's heart seemed merged into his own. He\nstood forth her living, breathing symbol. When he spoke it was\nIreland spoke. Her passions rocked his soul; her humour flashed\nfrom his eye; her scorn gleamed in his glances, and her sobs\nchoked his utterance. Ah! if preachers were as filled with the\nSpirit of Christ as this man was with the spirit of patriotism,\nwhat a revolution we might witness!\n\nYou ask--\"How then do actors move people since there can be no\nenthusiasm when men know they simulate unreal people and unreal\npassions?\" I answer, that the first step towards becoming a great\nactor is to fling aside that knowledge and hand yourself over the\nwilling victim of a delusion. You must not _act_ but _live_ your\npart: persuade yourself that you are the character you personate:\nsurrender your heart to be torn by real passions and wrung by\nreal sorrows.\n\nThe answer is well known which a celebrated actor once gave to a\ndivine:--\"How is it that you so move people by fiction and our\npreachers fail to move them by truth?\" \"Sir, we speak fiction as\nif it were fact, and your preachers speak truth as if it were\nfiction.\"\n\nHere we leave our preacher facing his audience and filled with\nbut one idea: I have a great message to deliver and I will lay\nhold of every means to send that message home; voice, passion,\nstyle, gesture, these are my arms, and with these I hope to\nconquer.\n\n[Side note: Parting glance at the preacher's mission]\n\nIn parting we take a glance at the preacher's exalted mission,\nand we may well ask: What in the whole range of human occupations\ndoes this world hold worthy of being compared to it?\n\nThe battle-field, it is true, has its glories, but it has its\nhorrors also. Who can paint the pride with which Napoleon saw the\ntriumph of his skill crush two Emperors at Austerlitz or the\nrapture with which he beheld the trophies of great kingdoms at\nhis feet? The fatigues of winter marches were forgotten when in\nthe fiery flashes of his veterans' eyes he read his own renown,\nwhile their applauding shouts fell like music on his ears. But\nblood soils the proudest trophies of war, and across the\nperspective of victory the spectres of murdered men will stalk.\n\nHuman eloquence, too, has its conquests, the purest, the most\nbeautiful in the natural order. How the pride flush heightens on\nthe orator's cheek as he watches the crusts of prejudice melt and\nhostile hearts surrender; when he marks the bated breath and the\nhushed silence attesting his victory more eloquently than the\nstormiest applause! He sees the varied moods of his own soul\nmirrored in the faces around him, as he summons forth what spirit\nhe lists: tears or laughter, murmurs or applause answer to his\ncall.\n\nWhat pen can picture the ecstasies that thrilled the soul of\nGrattan as he gave utterance to the spirit of expiring freedom in\nthose orations that rank among the world's masterpieces? The\nsnows of age melted and the decrepitude of years was flung aside,\nand his eyes gleamed with strange fires as he beheld sodden\ncorruption struck dumb and hang its guilty head; when he saw the\nwavering drink fresh courage with each new outburst, and men of\ncommonest clay transformed into heroes by the blaze of his\ngenius. Glorious triumphs indeed; but, alas! human, and as such\ndoomed to die.\n\nBut in the sublimity of his purpose and the imperishable nature\nof his conquests the preacher stands alone. Compared with his the\ngreatest trophies of the battle-field or the forum are feeble\ntrifles.\n\nThe preacher, in prayer and study, goes down over the green\nswards of Calvary, and there gathers the ruby drops of\nRedemption. He ascends the pulpit and pours them as a purple tide\nover souls that are parched and perishing. As when the\nPentecostal fire rested on the Apostles' heads, a new light\nfilled their minds and a new flame sprung up within their hearts;\nso when the same spirit breathes through the preacher's lips, the\nclouds of ignorance dissolve and the light of truth divine\nglorifies the minds and inflames the souls of his hearers. The\nears of faith can hear the applause of angels and the eyes of\nfaith can read Heaven's approval in the flashing glances of the\nBlest, as with each stroke the preacher widens the empire of the\nPrecious Blood and piles palpitating trophies before the Sacred\nHeart. Ah! here is a field worthy of the highest ambition that\never burned within a human breast.\n\nHence, we should toil, toil, toil, and call no labour excessive\nthat we put forth in burnishing into polished efficiency every\nweapon God has given us for the service of his pulpit.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER FIFTH\n\nA SOPHISTRY EXPOSED. ADVICE GIVEN\n\nTheologian and Preacher--The Difference\n\nIt is amazing to think how often the offices of theologian and\npreacher are spoken of as if they were identical. Now, the\nfunctions of theologian and preacher stand widely apart. To the\nreflective mind this sounds like repeating a truism; yet what a\nworld of confused thought and ignorant criticism would be cleared\nfrom the subject if this fact were kept well in sight.\n\nWhen you say that a young priest is becoming a good preacher you\nare met by \"impossible! he never got a prize in theology.\"\n\nThis is supposed to give your poor judgment its final _coup_;\nargument after that is useless: _causa finita est_.\n\nNow, I do not think our appreciation of an eminent surgeon is\nlessened by our being told that he is a poor chemist; yet the\ndifference between these respective professions is scarcely more\nradical than that which separates the office of preacher from\nthat of theologian.\n\nTo the ordinary public the theological treatise is a sealed book.\nIt is the preacher's duty to break that seal; to take out the dry\ntruths stored there; to render them palatable and inviting, and\nbring them within the grasp of the plainest intelligence.\n\n[Side note: Solicitor and barrister]\n\nFew occupations more aptly illustrate this difference than those\nof solicitor and barrister.\n\nThe attorney works up the materials for the case: he groups\nstatutes, discovers principles, tabulates references, supplies\ndates. While he does not plead himself, a man so armed is\ninvaluable at the elbow of an able advocate; without the\nbarrister, however, especially where the prejudices, interests,\nand the imagination of a jury have to be worked upon, his load of\nlearned lumber would be of small value. The theologian makes out\nthe brief: the preacher pleads it.\n\nTo render this distinction clearer let us take one more\nillustration. No animal can exist on air and clay and sunlight\nalone. Though these contain the elements on which it is fed; yet,\nthough surrounded by them in most ample abundance, he must perish\nif a third power is not brought into play. The vegetable world\ncomes intervening between the raw chemicals and the hungry man.\nOut of earth and air and light it builds the ripened sheaf, the\nsucculent apple and the savoury potato. So, though bookshelves\ngroan under calf-bound tomes hoarding the hived treasures of the\nmasters of theology, the common minds of the multitude would\nstarve did not the preacher interpose as interpreter of the\ntheologian's message, drawing forth from his storehouse truths\nand principles out of which he manufactures the daily bread on\nwhich the ordinary man must live. Without his aid the richest\nrepository ever clasped between the covers of a book would remain\na _fons signatus a hortus conclusus_. The prophet of God saw the\ndry bones scattered over the valley of desolation till the breath\nof a new power passed over them, and lo! (I) \"the bones came\ntogether each one to its joint; (2) the sinews and the flesh came\nupon them . . . (3) and the skin was stretched out over\nthem . . . and the spirit came into them and they lived.\"\n\nThe attorney and the theologian gather the dry bones, but on the\npreacher and the barrister lie the fourfold task of mortising the\njoints into each other, binding them with the sinews of argument,\nclothing them in living beauty and vitalizing the whole structure\nwith the flame of impassioned earnestness. Only when this has\nbeen done will they live.\n\nSo thoroughly distinct are the two offices it rarely happens that\na professional theologian becomes an efficient preacher. The\nconcentration and exclusive exercise of one faculty unfits him\nfor a task demanding many.\n\nPeople do not come to church to hear spoken treatises or witness\ndissecting operations on subtle distinctions. They come to be\ninstructed, pleased and moved.\n\nAgain, for the perfect fulfilment of the preacher's task, amongst\nother gifts he must have imagination; but to the master of an\nexact science like theology an exuberant fancy might prove a\nfatal dowry.\n\nA clear statement of this truth holds out hopeful encouragement\nto the man whose theological attainments could not be described\nas \"brilliant\": it teaches, too, the man who has distinguished\nhimself in theology that if he ambitions being a preacher he has\nan entirely new set of sciences to master, but, best of all, it\nbreaks into small bits an oft-used weapon in the hands of the\nyoung preacher's arch-enemy--the critic.\n\n[Side note: The critic at work]\n\nHow often do we see this self-constituted oracle rely for his\nsole support on this sophistry?\n\nYou turn from a church door filled with admiration; there is a\nglow of rapture around your heart; every nerve is tingling; you\nhave been enthralled. A truth, old indeed but now dressed in a\nnew robe, lives before your mind with a meaning and a richness of\ncolour never experienced before. Your will is swept captive on\nthe crest of that subtle tide of unseen fire that seems to fill\nthe air. You are bracing yourself to a heroic resolve. The\npreacher's voice, like ceaseless music, is still thrilling down\nthrough the avenues of your soul. When the critic comes and in\npity asks you--\"Do you really think that a good sermon?\" he\ncompassionates your poor judgment, leads you to the library,\ntakes down a volume of Lehmkuhl or Suarez, and with a triumphant\nwave of his hand assures you that every idea in that sermon may\nbe found there.\n\nYou are now face to face with the most perplexing of\nsophistries--the half truth.\n\nYour judgment is staggered by two apparently contradictory\nfacts--it was a fine sermon, yet every idea may be found in the\ntheological treatise.\n\nTo enable you to extricate yourself from the puzzle, ratify your\nfirst opinion and confound the critic; picture another set of\ncircumstances. You stand before St. Peter's, wrapped in\nadmiration at this world's wonder.\n\n  \"Power, glory, strength and beauty, all are aisled\n   In this eternal ark of worship undefiled.\"\n\nYou are marvelling how did human brains conceive and human hands\nembody this mighty dream of art. One of the pest tribe yclept\n\"critic\" comes pitying your simple heart; he leads you to a\nquarry, and triumphantly pointing says: \"Here every stone of that\nbuilding was found. Now, what becomes of the glory simple people\nlike you bestow on Bramante and Michael Angelo?\" How would you\nanswer him? Easily enough. Make him a present of the quarry, and\nask him to produce another St. Peter's. The challenge is\nconclusive. You have him impaled.\n\nCome back now to the library. Present the preacher's critic with\na hundred tomes, give him all this raw material multiplied ten\ntimes over out of which that masterpiece of sacred eloquence was\nbuilt, and ask him to enthral those thousands that hung\nspellbound on that man's lips, whose thrilled hearts were aflame,\nwho left the church examining their consciences and vowing better\nlives. Alas! he who was so eloquent in tearing others to rags\nwhen he himself essays their task himself--angels well might\nweep.\n\nNo department of life is secure against this sophistry.\n\nYou listen till you are dazed with admiration at one of those\nmasterpieces of forensic pleading that have flung a deathless\nglory around the names of Russell and Whiteside; but the critic,\nwith a superior toss of his head, assures you that this can be\nfound in Magna Charta and the Statute book. Here is the\ntantalising half truth.\n\nTo be sure the principles and groundwork of reasoning are there;\nbut the office of the advocate was to draw them from the dust and\ndarkness, to gather these scattered articles, statutes and\nprecedents into his capacious brain, and from them evolve a\nframework of argument to fit his purpose. He moulds them into an\nimpregnable bulwark of law and reasoning to shelter his client.\nSo naturally does he bend them to his case that every listener is\nimpressed with the conviction that surely the framers of these\nstatutes and principles must have a case like this before their\nminds when they committed them to parchment.\n\nYet in the judgment of the critic the variety of talents brought\nto this complex task count for nothing.\n\nHere we see what a distinction must be made between the office of\ntheologian and preacher, and what a confusion of thought is saved\nby keeping this line of demarcation in view.\n\n[Side note: Parting advice]\n\nNow that the subject of pulpit oratory is swept clear from\nmisleading theories and set in its true light before the young\npreacher's eyes, let us see how further we can assist him to\ndischarge his high office with honour and efficiency.\n\n[Side note: I.--Be natural in development]\n\n\"To thine own self be true\" is the soundest of advices.\n\nFrom the beginning the young preacher should aim at developing on\nhis own lines, thinking in his own way and expressing his\nthoughts in their own native dress. No matter how eminent the\nparagon you admire, do not become an understudy of him. Remember\nhe is great only because he is himself and not the imitation of\nanother. Try, however, to get at the secret of his greatness.\nWhat is it? He discovered his strong points and cultivated them.\nGo and do likewise.\n\nYou see a man with clear sequence of ideas and easy expression,\nbut without those exceptional gifts that go to make the born\norator. He could attain even eminence as a lecturer or\ninstructor, but lecture or instruct he will not, for he has read\nVentura and become smitten. He tries to imitate the Padre's lofty\nstyle, and succeeds in \"amazing the unlearned and making the\nlearned smile.\" \"Failure\" is written large over all his efforts.\n\nDavid could not fight with the gorgeous but cumbersome arms of\nSaul: with his own homely sling and the polished stone from the\nbrook, the weapon to which he was accustomed, he achieved\nvictory.\n\nI knew a priest who had a marvellous charm as a storyteller. He\ninvested the merest trifles of incident with resistless\nfascination. Hours in his society flew like moments.\n\nHe became a distinguished preacher. I went to hear him, and\nquickly discovered the secret of his success. He knew his strong\npoint, and staked his all on it. He preached his sermons as he\ntold his stories--in graphic, familiar narrative. The\ncongregation felt they were taken into his confidence; they were\nhypnotised. You forgot that you were sitting in stiff dignity in\na church, and imagined yourself one of a group around the\nwinter's log listening to a delightful _raconteur_, and you\nwillingly surrendered to the pleasing delusion.\n\nEvery play of fancy, every flash of thought, every clinched\nconviction passed from him to his hearers till the souls of\npreacher and listeners became like reflecting mirrors. There was\nalways regret when he finished.\n\nNow, had that man attempted to become Demosthenes instead of\nhimself he would have succeeded in becoming ridiculous.\n\n[Side note: 2.--Be natural in composition]\n\nThe natural outpouring of thought has a relish and a\nresistlessness of force that no art can rival. The scent of a\nsprig of wild woodbine holds a charm beyond all the perfumes of\nthe chemist's shop.\n\nIn order to be natural there is no necessity to ignore the\nelegancies of style; for what is style? _Le style est l'homme_.\nThe style is the man. A perfect style, then, is attained when the\nwritten page is the exact expression of the train of thought as\nit lies in the writer's head. A style is absolutely perfect when\nit is absolutely natural.\n\nArtificial embroidery, purple patches, and golden vapour are\noften the defects and not the perfection of style.\n\nLanguage can be simple, however, without being vulgar or\ncommonplace.\n\nWhat book will ever equal the Bible for simplicity, yet what\ndignity? What preacher ever approached OUR DIVINE LORD; and,\nhumanly speaking, what was the source of His strength?\n\nHe accommodated Himself to His hearers. From the open book of\nnature He made the realms of grace familiar to the minds of\nchildren. He pointed to the lilies of the field, to the ravens of\nthe wood, to the ripening bud and the angry cloud. \"_Ut ex iis\nquae animus novit, surgat ad incognita quae non novit_.\"[1]\n\n[1] Third Nocturn for Non-Virgins.\n\nHe used the world around us to lift our thoughts to the world\nabove us.\n\nWhen He spoke to fishermen His illustrations were taken from seas\nand nets. When He preached to farmers the word of God was the\nseed falling on rocky soil or the fertile furrow. When the\nmerchants with caravans and silken tunics surrounded Him it\nbecomes the pearl of great price. When amongst simple villagers\nit is the lost groat in search of which the housewife sweeps the\nfloor and searches each nook and cranny.\n\nHere is language coming down to the level of every hearer,\nabounding in familiar pictures, yet never losing dignity.\n\nWhile composing sermons for factory hands Cardinal Wiseman\nemployed a weaver to teach him the technicalities of the loom\nthat he might reach their hearts through the only channel of\nthought they understood.\n\nIt is wonderful how the natural world around us can be used to\nbring even the most sublime truths within the grasp of the\nplainest intellects. Why do we not draw more frequently and more\nabundantly from this source?\n\nWhen we hear of a man whose discourses \"are too sublime for the\nordinary intelligence\" it is hard to forbear a smile. Our pity\ngoes out not to \"the ordinary intelligence,\" but to the cloudy\ndweller in Patmos. Mystic obscurity is used more frequently as a\ncloak for muddle-headed thinking than as a robe with which to\ndrape sublimity of thought. Hence, if people do not understand\nthe preacher, blame not the people, but let the preacher look to\nit.\n\nOur nimble-minded imaginative people will rise to and grasp the\nmost elevated ideas if properly presented.\n\nI listened to a sermon in an English church preached before a\ncongregation of Irish poor. The keynote was lofty, but\nbeautifully sustained throughout. The range of thought was high,\nbut the truths clarified by an abundance of happy illustration.\nThat discourse was so classic in its beauty that it might be\npreached before an Oxford audience, yet not an idea was lost on\nthat breathless congregation, where every female head was covered\nby a shawl. The speaker possessed in an eminent degree three\ngifts that must command success:--He could think clearly; he\ncould so express his thoughts that his language became the mirror\nof his mind; he made a large demand on the familiar scenes of\nnature with which to illustrate his ideas and send his reasoning\nhome; he possessed a mind at once logical and imaginative and a\nmanner of expression that formed a definition of perfect\nstyle--_Le style c'est l'homme_--the style is the man.\n\n[Side note: 3.--Be natural in delivery]\n\nThe faintest suspicion of art immediately sets your audience up\nin arms. Their teeth are on edge; their heart locked against you.\n\"This is acting and not preaching\" seals your fate.\n\nDo not imagine for a moment that I advocate the neglect of\nelocutionary graces. So far from that I hold that every young\npriest leaving college should be a past master of all rhetorical\narts. Gesture, articulation, voice production and inflection\nshould be at his finger tips. No book on the subject should be\nunread. No year of college life should pass without contributing\nmaterially towards the elocutionary equipment of the future\npreacher. The college that neglects this training and permits\nyoung men to go into the ministry without this needful art is\nguilty of a most serious sin of omission.\n\nWhat I do mean is _preach_ your sermons and do not _declaim_\nthem. How is this accomplished?\n\nFor the first year bend all your powers to capturing the\nintellects of your auditors, holding in reserve, for the time\nbeing, the elocutionary forces. Then, when you have acquired the\nhabit of convincing the intelligence, let the elegancies of\nfinished declamation insinuate themselves gradually into your\ndelivery. Thus art will so engraft itself on nature, the\nrhetorical graces so entwining and dovetailing into your\nconvictions and passions that they will appear as growing out of\nand not added on to them. Here is perfection--\n\n    _Ars artium celare artem_.\n\nReverse this: make declamation your first concern, and let us\neven suppose the artificiality is not detected, which is\nsupposing a great deal. What is the result? Your sermon is\ndeclamation and nothing else. This means failure, for no matter\nhow the passions are aroused, if they are not upheld by the\npillars of conviction, your finest effort is a fire of chips: a\nblaze for a moment, then ashes.\n\nThough elocutionary powers are of so much importance as to be\nalmost indispensable, yet they are subordinate to the sermon:\nthey are the aids and auxiliaries to drive it home. A graceful\ngesture or musical inflection of voice will not convince the\nintellect or move the passions: they are not the arrows: they\nlend wings of fire, however, to send the arrows to the mark.\n\nI know no more fatal blunder, or one that militates more strongly\nagainst a speaker, than the adoption of an artificial accent.\n\n[Side note: The Irish gift of oratory]\n\nGod has not only given our race a special mission--the apostolate\nof the English-speaking world--but he has singularly endowed us\nwith those gifts that go to make successful preachers of His\nWord--logical minds, imagination and sensibility.\n\n[Side note: Logical minds]\n\nThat we possess this in an eminent degree is evident from a\nstriking fact. There are three avocations to which the faculty of\nclose reasoning is a first essential--law, politics and\ntheology--and in each of these our countrymen excel.\n\n[Side note: Law]\n\nWe are as essentially a race of lawyers as the Jews are a race of\nmoneylenders.\n\nFor eleven years I watched the sons of Irish parents going from\nan Australian college to professional careers. Ninety-eight per\ncent., following the natural bent of their minds, turned to the\nlawyer's office.\n\nFrom the year 1858 to the present hour the robes of Victoria's\nChief Justice have been uninterruptedly worn by Irishmen. From\n1873 the Chief Justiceship of New South Wales has been\nexclusively held by sons of the green isle. But, above all, turn\nto the lawyers' streets in the new worlds of America and\nAustralia and see the amazing number of brass plates adorned with\nO's and Mac's.\n\n[Side note: Politics]\n\nThe political organisations in the labour world of England to-day\nare mainly captained by Irishmen. Two of them have been sent to\nParliament, and two more will probably join them in the next\nParliament.\n\nThe rapidity with which the Irish emigrant, following the law of\nnatural selection, plunges into politics has passed into a\nproverb in America and furnished a humorous parody on a\nwell-known stanza:--\n\n \"There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin,\n    The dew on his thin robe was heavy and chill,\n  The ship that had brought him scarce from harbour was steerin',\n    When Senator Mike was presenting a Bill.\"\n\n[Side note: Theology]\n\nThe great Cardinal Franzelin said to one of his most\ndistinguished pupils[2]--\"As a professor of theology at Rome for\nmany years I had every day opportunities of studying the\ncharacter and mental equipment of various nations, and, though in\nfavour of the Germans, I give it as my opinion that the Irish, as\na race, have the most theological minds of any people.\" Judgment\nfrom such an authority is conclusive.\n\n[2] Dr. Croke, late Archbishop of Cashel.\n\nThe first essential for a preacher is the power of lucid\nreasoning. That this faculty is ours is now abundantly\nestablished. The next talent requisite is imagination. That we\nhave imagination, often teeming in tropical luxuriance, but\nshared in great or less degree by all, has never been questioned.\nOne more requisite and the oratorical outfit is complete.\n\n[Side note: Sensibility]\n\nOn this score it is sufficient to say that we are Celts, endowed\nwith the ardent nervous temperaments. But suffering has given to\nours an acute refinement that nothing else could impart.\n\n    \"Never soul could know its powers\n     Until sorrow swept its chords.\"\n\n\"We give preference to Jews and Irishmen on our staff,\" said the\nproprietor of a leading journal. \"Both have suffered, and a man\nwith a grievance writes passionately. He dips the pen into his\nown heart and electric energy thrills his sentences; hence the\ncrisp pungency and compressed fire of our columns.\"\n\nWhat gift that goes to make an orator has God denied us? Reason,\nfancy, passion, a pathos and humour where the smile trembles on\nthe borderland of tears.\n\nWhy then this barrenness? Mainly because of the criminal neglect\nof colleges in the past to cultivate the abundant material placed\nat their disposal; other contributory causes are cynical\ncriticism and want of courageous ambition.\n\nColleges are now bestirring themselves--it is high time--but\ncriticism has not died. Refined natures have heartstrings like\nthe chords of Aeolian harps, sensitive to the faintest touch,\nresponsive to the gentlest whisper of the evening breeze; such\nshrink in terror from the icy breath of the scoffer: the purpose\nis frozen dead within their souls. O criticism! what crimes have\nbeen committed in your name! How many noble careers have you\nblasted?\n\n[Side note: The world's greatest orators]\n\nThe man without ambition is not worth his salt. Some of the\nworld's greatest orators have been spurred on to triumph despite\ndifficulties before which timid men would stand aghast.\n\nThe story of Demosthenes is too familiar to bear repetition.\n\nA good voice and commanding presence are powerful auxiliaries\ntowards oratorical success; but Curran's appearance was so mean\nthat he was once taken for a shoeblack. His stammering, blunders,\nand collapses in early life earned for him the nickname of\n\"Orator Mum.\" Yet to what a lofty eminence did not his sleepless\nendeavours lift him!\n\nIf Sheil's portraits speak truly he must have closely resembled a\nstarved sweep on a wet day, while Disraeli declares his voice was\nas unmusical as the sound of a broken tin whistle. Of him Lecky\nwrites:--\"Richard Lalor Shiel forms one of the many examples\nhistory presents of splendid oratorical powers clogged by\ninsuperable natural defects. His person was diminutive and wholly\ndevoid of dignity. His voice shrill, harsh, and often rising to a\npositive shriek. His action, when most natural, violent, without\ngracefulness, and eccentric even to absurdity.\"[3]\n\n[3] Lecky--\"Leaders of Public Opinion in Ireland,\" p. 194.\n\nIn spite of these defects, and at a period when the nation's ear\nwas pampered to fastidiousness by the eloquence of Grattan, Flood\nand O'Connell, he began his upward struggle towards eminence. He\nnot only succeeded in winning a foremost place, but in wreathing\nhimself with deathless fame when laurels shaded the brows of\ngiants alone.\n\nIn face of these encouraging examples who could lose heart when\nthe trumpet of ambition blows--\"struggle, struggle, struggle.\"\n\n    \"Scorn delights and live laborious days.\"\n\n\n\nCHAPTER SIXTH\n\nTHE ART OF ELOCUTION\n\nThe subject of preaching would be incomplete without a chapter on\nthe important and graceful art of elocution.\n\n[Side note: What books should we read?]\n\nIf asked what works would a student read on the subject, the\nwisest answer would be, every book he can lay hold of. The number\nof works dealing with rhetoric are few, but if a man can get\nhalf-a-dozen new ideas from any one of them his labour is more\nthan repaid. Even should he meet the same thought repeated, the\nfact that it is clothed in different language and set in a new\nlight invests it with a freshness that is sure to fix it\npermanently in his mind.\n\nIf, however, the question be narrowed down to which are the three\nbest books on this subject? without pretending to give a decisive\nanswer to this difficult question we have no hesitation in saying\nthat, for the ecclesiastical student, \"Potter's Sacred\nEloquence,\" \"The Making of an Orator,\" by Mr. John O'Connor\nPower, and Mr. McHardy Flint's little work, \"Natural Elocution,\"\nwill be found most useful.\n\nSome of the thoughts in this chapter are borrowed from the last\ntwo authors.\n\nWith this general acknowledgment both gentlemen will, we are\nsure, be content when we spare the reader repeated references to\neither titles or pages of their works.\n\n[Side note: What is rhetoric?]\n\n[Side note: Cicero]\n\nAt the threshold of our subject we are met by the question--What\nis rhetoric? Mr. Power gives the answer--\"The resources of\nrhetoric are natural resources, and rules for composition are\nonly records intended for the guidance of those who have not\ndiscovered the originals for themselves. The first speakers had\nno rules and no experience to draw upon but their own. In course\nof time speeches came to be reported, and then the secret of\ntheir eloquence disclosed itself. All the qualities of the orator\nwere then observed; the highest and the best were chosen and\ncombined and erected into an art, which was named Rhetoric. This\nart was designed to _aid_ speakers and not as a means of\n_fettering their natural ability_.\" Cicero has put almost the\nsame thoughts in different words--\"I consider that, with regard\nto all precept, the case is this; not that orators by adhering to\nthem have obtained distinction in eloquence, but that certain\npersons have noticed what men of eloquence have practised of\ntheir own accord, and formed rules accordingly; _so that\neloquence has not sprung from art, but art from eloquence_.\" This\nis not only sound theory, but sound sense. It shatters a\ntime-worn fallacy and gives hope and encouragement to the\nstudent. Every man can become an orator in a greater or a less\ndegree. The powers slumber within him; and the teacher's duty is\nnot to create but awaken, draw out, develop and guide these\ninborn gifts.\n\nNow, the question is--By what standard shall the speaker be\ntrained? The master-hand of Shakespere has framed a set of rules\nthat will stand for all time as the most pregnant piece of wisdom\never penned on the art of elocution. Though Hamlet's advice is\naddressed to actors, there is scarcely a line which the young\norator can afford to ignore. He would do well to commit the\nentire piece to memory.\n\n[Side note: Shakespere's advice to speakers]\n\n\"Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you,\ntrippingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our\nplayers do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do\nnot saw the air too much with your hand thus: but use all gently;\nfor in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say) whirlwind of\nyour passion, you must acquire and beget a temperance, that may\ngive it smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul, to hear a\nrobustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to\nvery rags, to split the ears of the groundlings; who, for the\nmost part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb shows and\nnoise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o'er-doing\nTermagant; it out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it. Be not too\ntame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor: suit the\naction to the word, the word to the action; with this special\nobservance, that you o'er-step not the modesty of nature; for\nanything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end,\nboth at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold, as 'twere the\nmirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn her\nown image, and the very age and body of the time, his form and\npressure. Now this, overdone, or come tardy off, though it make\nthe unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the\ncensure of which one, must, in your allowance, o'er-weigh a whole\ntheatre of others. O, there be players, that I have seen\nplay--and heard others praise, and that highly--not to speak it\nprofanely, that, neither having the accent of christians, nor the\ngait of christian, pagan, nor man, have so strutted, and\nbellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had\nmade men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so\nabominably.\"\n\n[Side note: Avoid extremes]\n\nIt will be well to observe that throughout this advice the poet\nis careful to warn us against extremes--neither to tear a passion\nto rags nor to be too tame--he insists on moderation. Even in the\nvery tempest of passion one must not lose self-control nor make\nextravagant use of the hands. The \"overdone\" and the \"come tardy\noff\" are the two poles to be shunned.\n\n\"Speak the speech as I pronounced it.\" By placing the two words\n\"speak\" and \"pronounce\" in contrast, Hamlet leads us to infer\nthat in reading the play over for the actors his principal care\nwas to give perfect articulation. \"Speak the speech as I\n_pronounced_ it.\"\n\n\"Trippingly on the tongue.\" Evidently the slow, thick utterance\nof the mumbling speaker, to the roof of whose mouth the words\nseem to cling, was not unknown in Shakespere's day. As a remedy\nagainst this he tells them to \"speak it trippingly.\" No word in\nthe English language could so clearly convey the case. Nimble,\nairy resonance is suggested by the very sound of the word\n\"trippingly.\"\n\n[Side note: Two errors]\n\nHaving given this advice he hastens to warn them against the\nopposite extreme: \"But if you mouth it.\" He wants no boisterous\nnotes of artificial passion: he would as lief the town-crier\nspoke his lines. The office of that humble functionary demands\nnot the graces of finished elocution, only strong lungs with\nwhich to shout; hence a piece of delicate pathos or varied\npassions would probably receive scant justice at his hands. But\neven the town-crier is tolerable--he is nature's product--\ncompared with the workmanship of nature's journeymen--those who\nstrut and bellow. \"They imitate humanity so abominably\" that\ntheir delivery touches the extremest limit of all that is\nreprehensible in elocution.\n\n[Side note: Gesture]\n\n\"Suit the action to the word, the word to the action.\" Here we\nhave the fundamental law for the use of gesture.\n\nGesture is not an artificial action standing apart from, or added\nto, the words. It is thought seeking spontaneous, visible,\noutward expression through the movements of the hand or eye or\nfeatures just at the moment when that same thought is receiving\narticulate birth on the tongue. Its purpose is to make the words\ngrow large, as it were; to expand and emphasise their meaning;\nhence the wisdom of the advice--\"Suit the action to the word, the\nword to the action.\" If the action distract the listeners'\nattention from the word its purpose is defeated.\n\nNow that we have an idea of what elocution is, and analysed the\nwisest set of rules ever framed for its government, we turn to\nthe mechanical agencies by which it is produced--breathing,\nresonance, inflection.\n\n[Side note: How to inhale]\n\nWhen a person draws in the air through the mouth, the cold,\nunpurified stream strikes directly on the back of the roof,\ncausing dryness and irritation. To avoid this the preacher,\nexcept when actually engaged in speaking, should inhale through\nthe nose. The advantages of so doing are considerable. The air\ninhaled through the nasal organs is drawn over the roof of the\nmouth and soft palate, and thus warmed by contact with the\nblood-vessels; so that it is rendered innoxious by the time it\nreaches the throat. Again, any particles of dust or other\nimpurities it might contain are caught by the filterers or hairs\nsituated in the nasal cavities for that purpose. Thus it reaches\nthe tender vocal chords both warmed and purified. To these may be\nadded another advantage: it is more becoming to inhale with\nclosed lips--the picture of a speaker gasping open-mouthed is not\na graceful one.\n\n[Side note: How use the lungs]\n\nWe now come to the important question--How shall I increase my\nvocal powers? As is well known, there are two methods of inhaling\nand expelling the air from the lungs. One is by means of the\nrising and falling of the ribs. This is called \"the costal\nmethod.\" The other is by the contraction and distention of the\nmidriff or diaphragm. The diaphragm is the movable floor to the\nthorax or box that encloses the lungs. This is called \"the\ndiaphragmatic method.\" Now, since God has furnished us with both\nmethods, He evidently intended that we should use both, as we use\nour two eyes or our two ears. They are given, not as alternative,\nbut as simultaneous instruments of action. The weakness in many a\nspeaker's voice, its want of volume and its failure when a\nsustained effort is demanded, is due to the fact that he breathes\nby means of his ribs alone, throwing all the pressure on the\nupper portion of the lungs, not asking the large areas to\ncontribute anything. He thus robs himself of breathing capacity,\nand consequently of voice power.\n\n[Side note: Diaphragmatic breathing]\n\nTo get a perfect mastery over the \"diaphragmatic\" method and make\nit as serviceable as possible, practise breathing while lying on\nyour back, filling the lungs to the utmost, and exhausting them\nas completely as possible. Inhale rapidly and exhale slowly. Then\nreverse the order; inhale slowly and exhale rapidly. Again let\n\"slow\" and \"rapid\" alternately make both movements.\n\nBy this exercise you acquire flexibility of the midriff muscles,\nyou enlarge the cubic dimensions of the breathing area, you\ndistribute the burden generally; and when the occasion comes to\nsend your voice over four thousand heads you will discover that\nthe reserve fund of voice and strength acquired by this practice\nis at your service. This plan bears that highest and safest\nsanction--_in practical experience it has proved a genuine\nsuccess_.\n\n[Side note: A clergyman's sore throat]\n\nThe ailment known as \"a clergyman's sore throat\" is too common\nand too serious to be passed over--the raucous, husky voice sawn\nacross the throat, the congested blood-vessels, the strained\nmuscles, the throat lining as raw as a beefsteak. Here you have\nevident results of some unnatural effort. What is it? In ordinary\nconversation we employ the throat, back of the mouth and vocal\nchords mainly: very little demand is made on the lungs. The voice\nwe use is the \"head voice.\" Now, when called on to fill a large\nbuilding, the centre of stress should instantly be shifted from\nthe mouth and throat to the lungs. On them the whole weight\nshould be flung--then you produce the \"chest voice.\" It is the\nwant of this transference of strain from the throat to the lungs\nthat causes the misery called \"a clergyman's sore throat.\" Men\nendeavour to fill a large building with precisely the same set of\norgans that they use when speaking by the fireside. The strain\nintended for the broad-based, strong-fibred lungs is kept on the\ndelicate vocal chords, palate and throat. These were never built\nfor that purpose, and nature kicks against the outrage. The\nthroat becomes congested, parched, torn and raw; the voice grows\nhusky, cracked, and finally ends in a scream. Here is the genesis\nof the fatal \"clergyman's sore throat\" explained.\n\n[Side note: An illustration]\n\nAnalogy makes this clearer still. Our back teeth were built for\nthe purpose of grinding; hence their broad crowns, strong shafts,\nand firm roots; the teeth in the front of the mouth were intended\nfor tasks not at all so arduous. Tamper with this arrangement;\ntransfer the laborious work of mastication to the front teeth,\nand see how nature will punish you. This illustrates the outrage\ncommitted when the strain and effort that should be shifted to\nthe lungs are allowed to rest on the slender organs intended for\nthe entirely different purpose of modulation.\n\n[Side note: How acquire a chest voice]\n\nOne question remains--How can a person cultivate a chest voice?\nHow bring the voice directly from the lungs without in the least\ndistressing the throat? This is all important. The young speaker\nshould practise for a short time daily the method of lifting,\nfirst, words and then sentences straight from the lungs without\nmaking the least possible demand on the throat or vocal chords,\nstealing each word out of the depths of the lungs, afraid, as it\nwere, of awakening the upper organs. When he has acquired this\nhabit of speaking words and sentences, let him practise a verse\nor two of declamation. In a short time he will be surprised at\nhis progress in acquiring a chest voice. In public speaking it\nwill become his ordinary voice; for not only does the established\nhabit assist him, but the organs daily develop and fit themselves\nto his purpose, and he learns to transfer the stress from his\nthroat to his lungs as easily and quickly and instinctively as\nthe pianist passes his fingers from the treble to the base notes\non the keyboard.\n\nThe test of any theory is--How has it worked in practice? The\nmethod of voice production here recommended has given the writer\nadvantages that it would be difficult to overestimate. Lungs\nnaturally weak grew to three times their former size and\nstrength; his voice increased in depth, richness and resonance;\nthough constantly speaking in large churches for years, he has\nnever known what hoarseness, sore throat or huskiness is.\n\nA method that to him has been worth untold gold may not be\nwithout advantage to his readers.\n\n[Side note: Resonance]\n\nWe must, however, have more than speech; we must have musical\nspeech. This is acquired by resonance and inflection.\n\nTo send a stream of air from the lungs and vocalise it on its\noutward passage is not enough; by this you produce only a tiny,\nimpoverished voice that conveys no force and awakens no emotion.\nThere is something wanting; that something is--Resonance. It\nsupplies richness and effectiveness to the stream of sound.\n\n[Side note: An illustration]\n\nThe difference between speech stripped of resonance and\naccompanied with it is best illustrated by a simple experiment.\nTake a violin-string in your hand: touch it, and mark the sound\nproduced--how weak and thin. Now, attach the string to the\nviolin: touch it again, and see how the resonating instrument\nconverts the feeble sound of the detached string into a sonorous\nwave of vibrating music. Now, the vocal chords are placed in the\nthroat midway between two resonators--the chest and the head.\nThese are to the chords what the body of the violin is to the\nstring. When the stream of air has passed the chords it is\nalready accompanied by the vibrations of the chest, but the head\nis the main contributor. The residual air in the upper portions\nof the throat, mouth and nasal cavities is thrown into vibration.\n\nHere the importance of the subject reveals itself. The art that\ncan convert a screech into pleasing cadences of soft sound is no\ntrifle. Nasal resonance must not be confounded with nasal twang.\nThe one is produced by vibrating the air in the cavities, the\ntwang by expelling it from them. The part played by each organ in\nvoice production may be briefly summarised:--The lungs send out a\nstream of air; the vocal chords, principally, modulate it; the\nhead and chest give it resonance.\n\nNow, that it is clearly evident God intended us to speak and sing\nto the accompaniment of these aerial orchestras concealed in the\nhead and chest, the only remaining question is--How we shall use\nthem?\n\n[Side note: Advice how to avoid screech]\n\nTake care never to exhaust these reservoirs of air; if you do the\nresult will be screech and shout. No matter what demand is made\non you, be sure to hold a reserve supply of residual air: set it\nvibrating, and your voice on its outward passage will receive an\nenrichment of volume, force, and music.\n\n[Side note: Inflection: its necessity]\n\n\"Go slowly and articulate well\" are not sufficient. \"Inflect your\nlanguage\" must be added. A student should practise assiduously\ntill his sentences become as flexible as a cutting whip, capable\nof being bent to every mood and of lending themselves to every\npassion. In pathos his words should sink almost to a sob, tearful\nin their plaintiveness; in denunciation they should rise,\nmuttering the voices of the storms; and in narrative the proper\npitch is ordinary middle tone.\n\n[Side note: French and English want inflection]\n\nIt is in this want of inflective grace that English, and more\nespecially French, speakers lose so much of their force. Both\nread admirably and articulate with precision, but the unvaried\nstraight line tone, so suited to reading, will not serve the\npurpose when we not only wish to make people understand, but also\nendeavour to move their passions.\n\n[Side note: The secret power of a good story-teller]\n\nRecall a good story-teller or speaker of whom you never wearied;\ngo back in memory and see how much he owed to the power contained\nin the inflected voice--the varied tones that sank or swelled as\nsuited the mood or passion.\n\nAs you sat by the winter's fire your flesh was made to creep and\nyour hair stood on end in terror while you furtively stole a\nglance around looking for the apparition described in the weird\nghost story. The secret power that somewhere lay enthralled you.\nWas it not in the husky whisper or the hush of restraint? Let\nthat speaker tell the same story in the middle pitched narrative\ntone, and lo! the spell is vanished. If the thunder thrills that\nrocked and vibrated through his voice were taken from\nDemosthenes, would he have ever driven Eschines into exile?\n\n[Side note: Two advantages of inflection]\n\nThe practice of varied cadences in speech has two genuine\nadvantages--_it saves the speaker from fatigue and the hearers\nfrom weariness_.\n\nWhen a man varies his tone of voice he breaks up the arrangement\nin the group of muscles that till then bore the stress of effort:\na new combination is formed, and the work transferred to fresh\nmuscles. This brings instant relief. A similar sense of\nrefreshment comes to his hearers.\n\nIn speaking, as in singing, we must have melody, but there is no\nmelody without variety. People would rush even from a Melba if\nshe sang every note in the same key. Inflection not only\nconstitutes the melody of speech, but imparts to it rhetorical\nsignificance and logical force.\n\nThe want of success in many a speaker who has both a good voice\nand good matter may be found in the fact that his voice, instead\nof being as flexible as a piece of whalebone, is as unbending as\na bar of iron; or, worse still, perhaps he adopts the dreary\nmonotony of the sing-song tone: the two unvarying notes so\nsuggestive of the up and down movements of a pump-handle. This\n\"cuckoo\" tone would blight the best written sermon.\n\n[Side note: Two impediments to good preaching]\n\nNothing now remains except to warn the young preacher against the\ntwo most common defects--affectation of voice and word-dropping\nat the end of the sentences.\n\n[Side note: An artificial tone of voice]\n\n\"Preach,\" says Dr. Ireland, \"in a manner that the people will\nunderstand, and that goes straight to their hearts, and not in\nthe stilted phraseology of the seventeenth century sermon.\" Sage\nadvice! The comic stage has set the world laughing at the\ngrotesque inflections of the parson preacher; but is his\ncounterpart never found amongst ourselves. Is the Catholic pulpit\nfree from speakers whose ridiculous cadences at once class them\namongst the disciples of the Rev. Mr. Spalding?\n\n[Side note: Artificiality means failure]\n\nWe have met priests, typical of a considerably large class, who,\nin ordinary conversation, could speak in a manner both natural\nand pleasing; who, when roused, could be even eloquently\nconvincing; who, at the dinner-table and even on the platform,\nare listened to with pleasure, yet let one of them go into a\npulpit, and fifteen minutes exhausts the patience of the most\ncharitable congregation. Should he exceed this limit there are\nsuppressed sighs and ominous consulting of watches. Why? Because\nin the pulpit he adopts an artificial tone of voice. In some\ninstances it takes the shape of a pious whine, in others of a\ndrone. But in whatever shape it finds expression the hollow ring\nof the unreal is there to damn it.\n\n[Side note: How he came to acquire it]\n\nA hoary tradition made it venerable in his eyes. As a boy he\nheard it from a pastor to whom he was accustomed to look with\nreverence.\n\nHe came to persuade himself that, like a \"judge's gravity\" or a\n\"soldier's step,\" a priest too should bear a professional\nhallmark, and this should be a \"preacher's voice,\" so he acquired\nit. Fatal acquisition!\n\nThe peculiarity of it is that this tone is reserved exclusively\nfor the pulpit. Not a whisper of it heard during the week. It is\nhis \"preaching voice,\" and like his \"preaching stole\" or\n\"preaching surplice\" it is laid aside till Sunday brings him\nagain before the congregation.\n\n[Side note: The result of the artificial tone]\n\nWhat madness! Adopting this tone is like drawing the lead from\nthe pistol or putting a foil on the rapier: it defeats his\npurpose, it renders his weapon ineffective. So far from setting\nhis congregation on fire he sets them asleep; instead of sending\nthem away with clenched convictions they leave the church\ntittering, or perhaps in bad temper.\n\n[Side note: Priests never use in moments of serious issues]\n\nI would like to ask such a man--If you were pleading in a court\nfor your character or before an angry mob for your life is it on\nthis antiquated weapon you would rely? Would not nature's\nunerring instinct tell you to fling it to the winds and stake\nyour fortunes on the untrammeled outpouring of head and heart?\nEvery tone would ring with earnestness: every sentence thrill\nwith passion.\n\nThe thoughts, how clear! How convincing the arguments! Nature's\nunfettered strength would then, like a tidal wave, sweep you\ntriumphantly onward to the goal.\n\nYet when you stand in the pulpit to plead a brief for Christ the\nsimple, unaffected earnestness that everywhere else carries\nconviction is abandoned for such a musty instrument as an\nunctuous whine or a holy drone. The young priest should avoid it:\nit spells ruin.\n\n[Side note: Voice dropping]\n\nIt is wonderful how few the speakers are who sustain the same\npitch and energy of voice from the beginning of a sentence to its\nclosing syllable.\n\n[Side note: Cause of the defect]\n\nThe temptation to exhaust the air in the lungs, and therefore\npermit the final words to drop, is so strong that unless a\nstudent watch it and assiduously guard against it he will\ndiscover that he has fallen victim to this weak point before he\nis twelve months a priest.\n\n[Side note: It destroys a sermon]\n\nWhenever you hear the last words of each sentence of a sermon\ngrowing faint, like Marathon runners staggering feebly towards\nthe goal, and the final word dropping completely under, that\nsermon, no matter how beautiful its conception or eloquent its\ncomposition, is doomed to failure.\n\nThe entire meaning of many a sentence is completely lost if the\nlast words fail to reach the listeners' ears. Very often the last\nword is the important member of a sentence, the others being\nmerely ancillary to it. In oratory, especially, many a sentence\nhas to depend for its driving force on the energy with which the\nfinal words are sent home.\n\nNow, when people give a preacher attentive interest, the least\nthey are entitled to expect is that he should let them hear every\nword. But finding themselves invariably baffled by the last word\nbecoming inaudible, it is small wonder if, tantalised and\ndisgusted, they abandon all effort to follow him.\n\n[Side note: The cure]\n\nIt is therefore of great importance that this defect, so fatal\nyet so common, should be provided against in time. But how?\n\nSince it comes from exhaustion, consequent on the mismanagement\nof the voice, the remedy is obvious.\n\nLet the student daily practise reading aloud in the open air,\npreferably sermons or speeches by the best authors.\n\nLet him nervously guard against allowing his voice to show the\nslightest trace of fatigue in the final words of each sentence.\nThis can be accomplished by inhaling fully, going slowly, and not\nonly giving full value to the punctuation stops, but resting at\nthe rhetorical and logical pauses.\n\n[Side note: Advantages of the remedy]\n\nBy this excellent practice he strengthens his lungs and vocal\norgans, cultivates his ear, and acquires a control over his voice\nso perfect that he can husband his reserve fund of breath and\nstrength to impart at will freshness to the final syllable.\n\nThis practice should be continued till it becomes a rooted habit,\ntill it has grown to be his normal method of speaking.\n\nWhen he goes into the pulpit I would give him an advice, the\nvalue of which time and experience can alone enable him to\nappreciate.\n\nDirect your voice not to the end of the church, but to the side\nwall about three-quarters way down from the pulpit to the door.\nFix your eye on some person there; to him address your sermon,\nbut pitch your voice against the wall about two feet above his\nhead.\n\nBy this plan you not only secure your voice against unnecessary\nfatigue, but you take the surest method of sending it into every\near, and the reverberations of your own voice will act\nelectrically on you.\n\nAs ring after ring of your sentences comes back from the sounding\nspot against which you have discharged them you are filled with\ncourageous confidence and an assurance that every word has found\nits mark.\n\nA recent writer in the _Quarterly Review_ discloses in one\nluminous sentence the qualities that go to make an orator, and\nevery priest should struggle with all his might to be an orator\nin the best sense of the word.\n\nHe says: \"Nor is any man a great orator who has not many of the\ngifts of a great actor--his command of gesture, his variety and\ngrace of elocution, his mobility of features, his instant\nsympathy with the ethical tone of this or that situation, his\npower of evoking that sympathy in every member of his audience;\nand this is surely what Demosthenes meant by making acting not\naction the secret of all oratory.\"\n\nWhat a vista these words open up! What a variety of\naccomplishments demanded that can only be acquired, even by the\nmost gifted, by long study and patient practice! And since\nlearning to speak in public is like learning to swim, or to\nskate, or to ride a bicycle, in this sense at least, that no\namount of previous theoretical instruction will enable one to\nrealise the initial difficulties or find out how to overcome them\nwithout actual experiment, it would be arrant folly on the part\nof the future priest to neglect this subject during his student\nyears.\n\nThese questions--Culture, English, and Preaching--should occupy a\nforemost place in the curricula of our colleges. It is only by\ntraining the student from the start, by fostering literary,\ndramatic and debating societies where not alone the practical art\nof speaking is developed, but the social amenities of good\nsociety are practised, that the young priest can be equipped to\nefficiently discharge the high office awaiting him, and so\nreflect a lasting credit on the Church of God at home and abroad.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER SEVENTH\n\nTHE DANGER OF THE HOUR. HOW TO MEET IT\n\n[Side note: Statement of the case]\n\nThe printing press is one of the greatest forces of the modern\nworld. The multitude of publications sent forth on its wings each\nmorning are messengers of light or darkness. Their influence for\ngood or evil is more powerful than that of armies or parliaments:\nthat influence we can no more escape than we can escape the\nsunlight or the air that surrounds us. It penetrates our homes;\nit colours our thoughts; it furnishes motives for our actions.\nThe Press is indeed the lever that moves the world of our day,\nand we are but the puppets of its will.\n\nSuch being the case, is it not a question of first importance for\nthe priest to examine its bearing on his own life, and on the\nlives of those committed to his care?\n\n[Side note: A general principle]\n\nThat we may do so in a scientific manner, let us take a simple\ngeneral principle. Reading is the food of the mind. Now, the body\nis marvellously influenced by the food it assimilates; give a man\nwholesome nutriment and mark the bounding vigour of his blood,\nthe activity and healthy development of every organ; feed him on\ninnutritious food and the most robust must fade; on poisonous\nfood and the strongest languishes unto death.\n\nThe substance of the body is so influenced by what it assimilates\nthat scientists assure us, young animals fed on madder will\nreproduce the purple dye of the plant in the very texture of the\nbone.\n\n[Side note: The principle illustrated]\n\nWith far greater thoroughness and completeness does thought act\nupon the mind: thought blends with thought with a force and\nsubtleness unknown in matter. Watch the principle in action. Let\nany man habitually read good books--and by good books I mean the\nproduction of any person whose mind is illumined by faith and\nwhose heart is fed by the sacraments--it matters little in what\nshape such books reach us, let it be a novel or a book of poems\nor essays. No man can invariably read such works without growing\nimperceptibly better. His Catholic principles grow more robust;\nhe becomes more fearless in expressing them; each volume leaves\nan aroma behind and imparts a new flavour to his life. Fresh oil\nis poured into the lamp of his piety, its flame burns brighter,\nhe feels an unction in his prayers; he has a holy relish for the\nsacraments. His very interests in life change: he looks on\neverything with supernatural eyes, he becomes touchy about the\ninterests of the Church, anxious about the foreign missions, and\nfeels an insult to the Holy See as a wound.\n\nThe food his brain is living on is leavening his whole life,\ngiving colour, tone and trend to his existence.\n\n[Side note: Brownson]\n\nThis literature, on which he nourishes himself, has been\nadmirably described by the mastermind of Catholic America--Dr.\nBrownson:--\"Catholic literature is robust and healthy of a ruddy\ncomplexion, and full of life. It knows no sadness but the sadness\nof sin, and it rejoices for evermore. It eschews melancholy as\nthe devil's best friend on earth, abhors the morbid\nsentimentality which feeds upon itself and grows by what it feeds\nupon. . . . It washes its face, anoints its head, puts on its\nfestive robe, goes forth into the fresh air, the bright sunshine;\nand, when occasion requires, rings out the merry laugh that does\none's heart good to hear. It is on principle that the Catholic\napproves such gladsome and smiling literature.\"[1]\n\n[1] Vol. xix., p. 155.\n\nNow look at the converse picture. Let the mind of the most devout\nCatholic feed on the writings of the Protestant or sensualist and\nmark the transformation. See how his soul becomes enervated, his\njudgment warped and his heart invaded by every temptation. His\nCatholic principles insensibly vanish, and the standards of\npaganism replace them. The light of the supernatural dies in his\neyes, a film of clay overspreads his vision; he looks on the\nChurch through coloured lenses, and the rankness of earth is upon\nhis life.\n\nThus our thoughts, views and actions are marvellously coloured\nand influenced by the books we read.\n\n[Side note: The English press operating on the Irish mind]\n\nLet us now turn to examine how this bears on our own lives and\nthe lives of those around us.\n\nThick as snowflakes, but without their whiteness, the sensuous\nand infidel Press of England is discharging its messengers of\nevil on this land. It is speaking by a multitude of tongues into\nthe hearts of our people. The sensational novel, the suggestive\npicture paper, the trashy magazine are breathing a deadly blight\nover the soul of Ireland: they whisper thoughts that fall like\ncorrosive poison into the sanctuary of young hearts, destroying\nthe only jewels that are worthy of being there enshrined--bright\nfaith and pure morals.\n\n[Side note: What the Londoner saw]\n\nAn Irishman residing in London, after visiting his native country\nin 1900, records his impressions:--\n\n\"I have been amazed during recent visits to Ireland at the\ndisplay of London weekly publications, while Dublin publications\nof a similar kind were difficult to obtain. I have seen the\ncounters of newsagents in such towns as Waterford, Limerick,\nKilkenny and Galway piled as thickly, and with as varied a\nselection of these London weekly journals as in Lambeth or\nIslington. . . . I was so impressed with the phenomenon that I\nendeavoured when in Dublin to obtain some accurate information in\nregard to its extent. At Messrs. Eason's I was told that within\nthe past ten years the circulation of these journals in Ireland\nhad almost quadrupled, although the population had diminished\nwithin the same period by one-eighth.\"[2]\n\n[2] Mr. MacDonagh in \"Nineteenth Century,\" July, 1900.\n\nThis is the offal the national mind is feeding on, and yet people\nexpress surprise that we are becoming West-British and losing\nCatholic thought and character.\n\nIt is estimated that, without counting the book or parcel post,\nevery week there are three tons of this literature discharged on\nthe quays of Dublin alone. If this is even approximately true it\nreveals a startling condition of things.\n\nIt may well be questioned whether the bayonets of Cromwell or the\nplantations of James threatened more destruction to all we hold\ndear. I believe they were as toy armies compared with the silent\nfoe now encamped upon the soil.\n\nOut of these three tons it would be easy to count, not the\nvolumes, but the pages, devoted to a defence of the Ten\nCommandments. Works of open or professed assault on faith or\nmorals are as yet few, the time is not ripe just yet, their\nforerunners are here, however, the ground is being prepared. The\nadvance guards have come, and it is only a question of time till\nthe heavy ordnance is planted in our midst.\n\n[Side note: Cardinal Logue]\n\nOur present danger has been admirably described by an eminent\nprelate:--\"A mass of literature which professes to be innocent,\nand ostensibly aims at being interesting, but seeks to create\nthat interest and engross attention by fostering thoughts that\nappeal to the passions with no uncertain voice. Even when such\nworks do not openly attack faith or the sanctity of morals, they\nseek to convey the subtle poison of unbelief or corruption by\ncovert insinuation, by ridicule, by ignoring religious truth and\nsupernatural motives as unworthy of consideration, more\neffectually and fatally, than they would have done by open and\nundisguised assault.\"[3]\n\n[3] Cardinal Logue, Lenten Pastoral.\n\nThere are novels that constitute an unbroken attack, from the\nfirst page to the last, against some divine truth, yet with such\na delicate hand is the insidious poison distributed that you may\nbe challenged to lay your finger on a single objectionable\npassage. Satan has not been studying the human heart for six\nthousand years without knowing it well. He takes very good care\nnot to label his drugs, or present his poison to timid minds in\nlarge doses; hence there is no alarm: but the treacherous danger\nof such books is well illustrated by a tree to be found in\ntropical forests.\n\n[Side note: The Tropical tree]\n\nIn early autumn it is ablaze with sheaves of fairest pink; it\nwarns you off by no repellant odour; its umbrageous shelter is\nmost inviting; yet so fatal is the subtle breath with which it\ncharges the air around that should an incautious traveller rest\nhis head for one night under its treacherous shade he would wake\nno more.\n\nSo, the flowery brilliancy of style, the charms and graces of\ndiction of many a modern novel are fascinating, but the pages\nthey adorn exhale a deadly breath.\n\n[Side note: A sample novel]\n\nLet us take a sample novel. The foundation of the State is the\nfamily; the corner-stone on which the family rests is the sacred\nmarriage bond. Dissolve that and you convert social harmony into\nsocial chaos. Yet how many books are there which are covert\nattacks on the marriage tie.\n\nThe heroine is generally a married lady who discovers that her\nhusband is not the man she should have married. From this\ncentre-point the web of intrigue is woven. Mawkish sentiment and\nfalse pity are aroused. A glamour is thrown over the sins and the\nsinners. Tears are demanded for libertines and their crimes are\ngilded. Virtue becomes a tyranny; the marriage bond an\nintolerable yoke, and the divorce court--which is truly a\nvestibule of hell--a haven of relief.\n\nIt is unnecessary to trace the effects of such degrading teaching\non the lives of the young, whose minds are as wax to receive and\nmarble to retain: how the high standards of virtue taught in the\nschool and strengthened in the home vanish: how the touchy\nsensitiveness of the pure soul becomes deadened and a hunger for\ngrosser excitements is awakened.\n\n[Side note: The head leads the heart]\n\nNow that we have analysed the intellectual food on which our\npeople live let us advance the enquiry one step further and\nask--Where must it all end? St. Thomas answers: \"_Nihil volitum\nnisi cognitum_.\" That principle is axiomatic in its truth: the\nheart will ever follow the head. As you sow in thought you will\nreap in action. Corrupt a nation's intellect, and as surely as\ndarkness succeeds sunset, as effect follows cause, so surely\ncorruption of that nation's heart must ensue.\n\nHow clearly the devil understands this and what use has he not\nmade of it!\n\nFor the past four hundred years the greatest evils that have\nafflicted the Church are traceable to a licentious Press.\nPrinting was scarcely invented till Satan seized it for his own\npurposes. By it the Humanists of the fifteenth century scattered\nbroadcast pagan ideas. The disentombed paganism continued to\nferment and rot the hearts of the people till in the next century\nit burst forth in the deluge of unbridled passions that marked\nthe Reformation.\n\n[Side note: France]\n\nVoltaire and his disciples did not openly cry \"down with the\nChurch,\" but they took the surest road to level it. They corroded\nthe foundations of Christian belief. By encyclopedias and\npamphlets they first attacked with sneer and jibe, the person of\nthe priest, then the sacraments he administered became the butt\nof their mockery, and they finally flouted the gospel he\npreached. And while the agents of evil were busy, the good cures\nof France sounded no trumpet of alarm, but dreamed themselves\ninto the comforting delusion that all would blow over, till the\nground under their feet began to rock and heave in the convulsive\nthroes of the Revolution.\n\nThe disciples of Satan to-day are sleepless in their endeavours\nto undermine the faith of Ireland through the same agency; while\nit is to be feared that some of the guardians of that sacred\ntreasure are inclined to imitate the dreamy lethargy that led to\nsuch disastrous results in France.\n\n[Side note: Europe]\n\nLook at Europe to-day seething with socialism and anarchy, its\nhuge standing armies scarcely able to hold these worse than\nbarbarian hordes in check. Out of what dark womb have these\nmonsters crept? A corrupt Press. The devil found men whose lives\nwere filled with pain and want; he came breathing through the\nPress telling them to distrust God, and to make war upon society.\nThe Reformation, the Revolution, the social anarchy of to-day are\nthe direct offspring of a licentious Press. Permit a nation's\nmind to be poisoned, and that nation's heart must rot. _Nihil\nvolitum nisi cognitum_.\n\n[Side note: Fifty years ago]\n\nIn proof of this we need not look outside our own shores. Fifty\nyears ago the priests of Ireland often had recourse to rough\nmethods with the people. Even the aid of the \"blackthorn\" was\noccasionally invoked as an effective instrument for securing\ncorrection or impressing conviction. Yet, on the morrow, all was\nforgotten; and the people would die for the man who punished\nthem. Let the priest of to-day but thwart the grand-children of\nthat generation, even in a small matter, and mark their rancour.\nHow bitter! how relentless! The Catholic spirit of half a century\nago was not operated on by the literature of a nation that is\ndaily losing even the veneer of Christianity.\n\nYou may gash a man with healthy blood to the bone, and time will\nquickly heal the wound and scarcely leave a scar, but if the\nman's blood be corrupt the scratch of a thorn may involve\nconsequences demanding the surgeon's knife.\n\nThe spirit that Catholic Ireland had fifty years ago is sadly\nchanged to-day; and its tendency to fester on slight provocation\nis due to the poison distilled into it from an unwholesome,\nanti-Catholic literature. Only twenty years ago we had a painful\nillustration of the silent but terrible mischief that has been\ndone by England's Press upon the Catholic mind of this country.\n\n[Side note: An evil crisis]\n\nUp to the time of the Parnell crisis the priests imagined their\nfeet were planted upon a solid rock; they discovered they were\nstanding on a pie-crust. What a startling revelation was in store\nfor them. Small wonder they rubbed their eyes and asked in\nbewilderment, Are we in Catholic Ireland?\n\nThe ground broke; the fiery breath of hell belched forth. We saw\nthe devil spitting hate through the lips of politicians, the\ncolumns of the Press, and the resolutions of the schoolmasters.\nTerrible as was this outward exhibition, it revealed but a\nfraction. The spirit of revolt and infidelity that raged within\nthe breasts of young men and darkened their conversation was\nawful. The writings of avowed freethinkers and libertines were\ndevoured, and if any young man had the heroic courage to\nremonstrate, his words would be drowned in derision.\n\nGod permitted that warning to come, but have we taken it as a\nwarning? What efforts have we made since to secure the\nentrenchments? The danger passed, and we sank back into the old,\ndreamy lethargy, and left the field open to the devil to sow his\ntares anew. Our greatest danger to-day is our apparent safety. We\nwrap ourselves into a false security, while a dry rot is\npermitted to stealthily corrode the pillars of intellectual\nconviction that must uphold all. Unless this is fought, and\nfought effectively, the structure of our Catholic life will\ntopple like a house of cards.\n\n[Side note: Objections answered]\n\nAll looks calm now, but so long as the causes that produced the\nsad outburst of twenty years ago continue unchecked, worse\ninevitably awaits us. I may be told. Look at the union of priests\nand people to-day; look at our flourishing sodalities and our\nbeautiful churches.\n\nThe union of priests and people was then tested by one strong\nwrench, and it snapped; and so long as the evil forces that\ncaused the fissure continue to gnaw once more the bond that\nunites the hearts of priests and people, is it stronger you\nexpect that bond to grow?\n\nWith regard to our pious sodalities. Did the question ever\npresent itself--How much of the average sodalist's piety is\nresting on sentiment and tradition, and how little of it on\nintellectual conviction? Transplant him from the hotbed to the\nice-chills of infidelity in America or Australia, where the very\nair is electric with doubt and denial, and when the storm beats\nupon him, is his head armed to defend his Faith?\n\nWhere could he get the necessary knowledge? Not from the book in\nhis hand, for it is \"Marie Corelli\" or \"Hall Caine\" you find him\nbest acquainted with. Not from the Catholic newspaper, for the\nquestion is--Do we possess one? It is a strange fact that while\nIrish Catholics abroad have founded, and support, splendid\nCatholic journals in every land where they have found a home, the\nmother Church from which they sprang is practically defenceless.\nHe gets poor assistance from the pulpit; for while homilies and\nexhortations are admirable in their way, they fall far short of\ncovering the needs of this questioning age. Our dogmatic\ntreatises are permitted to lie entombed in dust on our top\nshelves, while clear and homely exposition of Catholic truth\nwould be drunk in like honey by the people.\n\nYou point to our beautiful churches, beautiful they are indeed.\nBut to what purpose do we raise temples of stone if we permit the\nliving temple of the soul to be eaten into by the poison mildews\nof evil thought. The Continent is dotted over with stately but\nempty basilicas, silent and mournful monuments to a Faith and a\nlove long since departed.\n\n[Side note: Questions]\n\nNow that we begin to realise the danger and the extent of this\nevil, a number of questions naturally suggest themselves.\n\n[Side note: I]\n\nHow is it that the master carefully scrutinizes the character of\na servant before admitting her into his house, lest her influence\nin his home might be for evil, and that same man allows the\nauthor to pass in unchallenged? The author comes, not to minister\nbut to master; to impress his thoughts on the minds and perhaps\nblast the virtue of the children.\n\n[Side note: 2]\n\nSince every parent is bound to provide that his children's\napartments are well supplied with healthy air, is not the\nobligation far more serious to take care that the moral\natmosphere of the home does not hold the deadliest poisons in\nsolution?\n\n[Side note: 3]\n\n[Side note: Questions]\n\nWhy does not the young girl, who is so fastidious about the class\nof people with whom she will associate, exercise even ordinary\ndiscrimination in the selection of an author? This is the\ncompanion whose influence sinks deeper and lasts longer than that\nof the person with whom she sips tea or takes a walk. He whispers\ninto her soul under the shade of the midnight lamp. He embeds his\nprinciples on her brain. He lives in her dreams. He becomes her\noracle to conjure by.\n\n[Side note: 4]\n\nOr, let us put the question this way: How many of the men and\nwomen who flit across the pages of modern fiction would a\nrespectable Catholic admit into his home or introduce to his\nfamily? He would not give them his company, but he gives them his\nbrains. The hem of his garment they may not touch, but the pith\nof his life he places at their disposal. Make no mistake about\nit. You cannot shake off the influence of your author. His\nthoughts become your thoughts. He weaves himself into the woof of\nyour mind.\n\n[Side note: 5]\n\nHow is it that when the proselytiser comes to your parish in\nhuman shape you are all afire, but when he comes speaking, not by\none but a hundred tongues, silently but effectively sapping the\nFaith or virtue of your flock, no pulpit rings with denunciation?\nAll these questions may be answered by another most pertinent to\nthe priest.\n\nHave the people been taught to realise the danger confronting\nthem? Have their consciences been awakened? Have we been dumb\nwatch-dogs while they are being devoured?\n\n[Side note: Apologies]\n\nThe treatment of this subject would be incomplete if the stock\napologies for dangerous reading were not dealt with.\n\nWhen you remonstrate with a Catholic on the character of his\nreading, you are sure to be met with some of the following, and\nany one of them is supposed to be a complete justification, no\nmatter how bad the book:--\n\n[Side note: Style]\n\n\"_I read these books for the style_.\" This is sometimes heard\nfrom people whose pretentions to literary taste borders on the\ngrotesque; but let that pass. Has a paralysis fallen on every\nhand that wields a Catholic pen? Does the light of Faith beaming\non a human mind quench the beauties of imagination or dull the\ntaste? Or, is a perfect style to be found only among the apostles\nof evil? Surely the long range of Catholic writers offers an\nample variety of the most perfect exponents of literary style.\nLet us be honest. It is not for the style these books are read;\nit is because they gratify an unhealthy craving, because they are\nsoft, sensual, suggestive, and stimulate feelings not far from\nthe border-land of sin.\n\n[Side note: I see no harm]\n\n\"_I see no harm in them_.\" Now by this answer you implicitly\nadmit that you see no good. Have you then no remorse for\nfrittering away such a precious gift of God as time? If the\ndamned got five minutes of that time to repent, every chamber in\nhell would be empty. Yet you squander months and years without a\nqualm.\n\nYou see no harm in it. Look into your own life and what do you\ndiscover. The unction of prayer sucked out of your soul, your\nrelish for the Sacraments gone, a dry rot consuming your\nspiritual life, a nausea for supernatural things, a taste every\nday becoming more clayey, and an increasing appetite for grosser\nexcitements. Books that you would tremble to touch a year ago you\nnow devour without a pang; or perhaps the stray shreds of\ninfidelity are weaving themselves into your future creed. Do not\nmind what you see with the eye of a conscience that is already\nhalf-dead. Search deep into your own heart and life, and you will\nquickly discover the damage done.\n\n[Side note: Narrow-minded]\n\n\"_We cannot be narrow-minded_.\" Is it then a something to be\nashamed of, if in matters pertaining to our eternal interests we\nare cautious and conservative? Not prone to take dangerous risks?\nThis is the disposition sometimes called narrow-mindedness.\nSurely it is better even to be narrow-minded than pagan-minded.\n\nBut let us clear our minds of cant and squarely face the\nquestion. Will the person who calls you narrow-minded for\nexercising caution in the selection of your books, exhibit his\nown breadth of mind by going into a chemist's shop, shutting his\neyes and gulping down the contents of the first bottle that comes\nto his hand? Ha! You see how quickly his broad-mindedness is\nreplaced by most careful caution. But a library is like a\nchemist's shop. The shelves may hold health-giving medicines or\nthe most deadly poisons. As well call the harbour authorities\nnarrow-minded because they close the ports against the cholera\nship, as to question the just prudence of the man who shuts his\ndoor against the evil book.\n\n[Side note: Up-to-date]\n\n\"_We must be up-to-date_.\" The man that takes this as the sole\nprinciple by which to guide his moral conduct, not only writes\nhimself down \"depraved,\" but an intellectual imbecile. What does\nhe mean? He means that he is incapable of thinking for himself;\nthat he has no fixed chart, but is tossed about in the eddy of\nfashion; that he has no principle to guide his own conduct by,\nbut has to look to the street and follow where the crowd leads.\n\nThe most un-up-to-date people that ever lived were the early\nChristians. When thousands were swarming to the butcheries of the\nColiseum they refused to be up-to-date and kept carefully away\nfrom the taint of blood and savagery. When the debaucheries of\nthe festivals disgraced the city, they again refused to be\n\"up-to-date.\" No doubt they were sneered at and called\n\"old-fashioned,\" \"priest-ridden,\" &c. But it was they, and not\nthose who taunted them, who showed loftiness and nobility of mind\nin taking, not the craze of the hour, but the Gospel of Jesus\nChrist as the standard of their conduct.\n\n[Side note: How to meet the Danger]\n\nWe have now taken the full bearings of the Danger of the Hour.\nThe remaining question is--How to meet it? To expose the bad book\nis but half our task--its place must be supplied by the good one.\nHow can this be done? The answer naturally suggests itself. Have\nwe not the Catholic Truth Society? Yes, and it is a splendid\nweapon if worked as it should be; and its admirable publications\npushed into every home.\n\nThere is a temptation to belittle these works because they cost\nonly a penny. Though they are reduced to that humble price to\nmeet the wants of the millions, we must not forget that most of\nthem are the productions of the ablest pens, and some of them\ncontain more thought between their modest covers than many a\npretentious volume. They have the special advantage of being at a\nprice and in a form accessible to the young. There are many\nthousands reading these booklets who would never venture, even if\nthey could, to face the four hundred paged volume. But the\nCatholic Truth Society works do not cover all our needs. They do\ntwo things--they serve to create a thirst for more knowledge, and\nact as pedagogues to lead the child to the door of the parochial\nlibrary. Here we strike the goal.\n\n[Side note: The Parochial Library]\n\nThe parochial library is the crying want of the hour. The one\nweapon by which we must beat back an evil which threatens\nappalling ruin. Our service of God must vary with the need of the\ndifferent ages. At one time He is best served by the pouring out\nof martyr blood, at another by the building of splendid churches;\nbut to any man who watches the drift and danger of our\ngeneration, it is clear as noonday, that the most effective work\na priest can offer God to-day is a well stocked library, open to\nevery child of the parish.\n\nIt has been said that if St. Paul were on earth now, he would be\nfound editing a Catholic newspaper.\n\nWe have seen the devil using the Press with terrible effect for\nthe destruction of souls; let us wrench it from him and baptize\nit for the service of Christ.\n\nThe parochial library as an instrument of defence and propagation\nis no new discovery.\n\n[Side note: Encyclopedia Britannica]\n\n\"As Christianity made its way,\" says the \"Encyclopedia\nBritannica,\" \"the institution of libraries became a part of the\norganisation of the Church. So intimate did the union between\nliterature and religion become, that alongside every Church the\nCatholic bishops had a library erected.\" Now, if in times past,\nwhen not one man in twenty could read, the unerring foresight of\nthe Church led her to adopt the parochial library as her most\nable auxiliary, the wisdom of that adoption applies with ten-fold\nforce to our times.\n\n[Side note: The Blunder of the Past]\n\nFifty years ago we taught the people how to read; awakened within\nthem the native desire for knowledge, and then--stopped. When the\nnational school was built had we established the parochial\nlibrary and made it the means of continuing the child's\neducation, we would have a different Ireland to-day.\n\nWe made the youth hungry and then stepped aside. The British\npublisher came and occupied the place we should have held. He has\nbeen feeding them on garbage and gutter literature since. God\ngrant that it is not too late to undo the mischief of our\nneglect.\n\n[Side note: What we spend]\n\nIt is estimated that we spend four hundred and forty-six thousand\npounds every year on English papers, books and magazines. Almost\nhalf a million of money! How many of our honest rooftrees would\nnot that sum keep standing? How many of our pure boys and girls\nwould it not save from the \"hells\" of Chicago and New York.\n\nIt is bad enough to part with the bone and muscle, but a nation\nloses her most precious asset when she exports her intellect.\nWhile we have gone on helping the British publisher to the\ncarriage and the suburban villa, the young Irishman, who feels\nthe fire of genius throbbing in his blood, sees but two\nalternatives before him--to starve at home or sell his brains in\na foreign market.\n\nTo-day the priest holds the field, but for how long? Recent\nconvulsions should warn us; the ground may rock again; then let\nus arouse ourselves to the task before us.\n\n[Side note: Awake!]\n\nWhether the priest moves or not the library is sure to come, and\nwhat in his hands would be a centre of diffusive light to the\nparish, under the control of semi-educated or conscienceless men\nmay prove a dark curse.\n\nLet the coarse and sensuous literature of England drop from our\npeople's hands. Let us encourage native genius to dip her pen\ninto the old holy well of Catholic truth, and build up a\nliterature that will be racy of the soil and redolent of its\nFaith. Let us feed the minds of the young on the untainted\nproductions of our own countrymen and women. Let us brace them\nwith robust Catholic principles that are mortised into the solid\nbed-rock of knowledge. Then the most powerful foe the future\nholds will blow the trumpet in vain.\n\nBut to the priest who slumbers, heedless of the swift march of\ntime, and the forces of evil now possessing our land, I say--\nDream on, dear gentle soul, dream on! The day may come when you\nwill awake with a thunder-clap, perhaps to find the Irish Church\nin chains.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER EIGHTH\n\nTHE YOUNG PRIEST'S ACTIVITIES\n\nI should like to see the priest at the head of every movement for\nthe bettering and uplifting of the people.\n\n[Side note: The Last Fortress]\n\nIreland is the last fortress of Catholic Christendom. Latin\nChristianity is having to struggle for existence; and for us,\ntime will but multiply, from within and without, the forces\norganised by Satan to capture the last stronghold that flies the\nPapal banner.\n\n[Side note: Satan's First Move]\n\nHis first effort will be in the future, as it has ever been in\nthe past, to drive a wedge of separation between the priests and\nthe people. That accomplished, half his battle is won. If he can\nget the people to despise the priest in any capacity as a social\nman, a politician, &c., he knows that time rubs out fine-drawn\ndistinctions; they will cease to respect at the altar the man\nthey are accustomed to flout on the street; and if they once come\nto despise the priest, they will soon despise the sacraments he\nadministers, and challenge the Gospel which he preaches. Let us\nforestall him, and bind the people to our hearts with hoops of\nsteel. For their sakes more than for ours we cannot make our hold\ntoo firm or root ourselves too deeply in their affections. For\nwhat hope could there be for souls if a chasm should yawn between\nthe pastor and his flock, if those God has united by so many and\nsuch sacred ties should glare hatred and distrust from opposing\ncamps?\n\nThe priest is supreme in Ireland to-day; but in the near future\nhe may have many a rival claimant; and should the people pass\nunder alien sway, the last fortress is gone.\n\nNow, when we unroll the map of social Ireland, we discover a\nmultitude of ways by which the priest can keep in touch with,\ndirect and uplift the people, and each effort for their sakes\nmeans a fresh strengthening of the bonds that bind the hearts of\npriests and people.\n\nLet us take a survey of the situation. That done, the number of\nways by which the priest can become the reformer of his parish\nwill at once disclose themselves.\n\n[Side note: A Statement of Facts]\n\nHave you ever faced the sad problem:--Why are our asylums\nenlarging while our general population is shrinking?\n\nThree main causes are responsible.\n\n[Side note: Food]\n\n_The food we are eating_, especially the use of overdrawn tea. A\ngentleman of over twenty years' experience, as governor of a\nlunatic asylum, assured the writer that next to drink, overdrawn\ntea was the most responsible agent for insanity. That week he had\nreceived a farmer's wife and five strapping sons all stark mad\nfrom the poison stewing by so many of our hearths.\n\nWhilst we were guided by the healthy traditions of our own race,\nwe fed on solid food--oatmeal, specially suited to our climate,\nbeing a heat-producer, a bone-builder and a tissue-former, rich\nmilk, butter, vegetables and home-cured bacon. What a poor\nsubstitute for these luscious foods are the weak white bread and\nthin cup of tea! The Scotsman has stuck to his national diet; he\nhas done more, he has forced his porridge on the bill of fare of\nevery first-class English hotel.\n\n[Side note: Activity I]\n\nCould not the curate, from the lecture platform, in the school\nand in private conversation, drive home to the people and open\ntheir eyes to the suicide they are committing? I know one priest\nwho gets every farmer in his parish to sow every year a quarter\nacre of oats for home use. Could not others do the same?\n\n[Side note: Drink]\n\n_The second cause is Drink_. On this question I shall content\nmyself with quoting a few statistics. They supply melancholy food\nfor reflection.\n\nIn 1899, out of every three placed in the dock for drunkenness in\nthe capital of this Catholic country one was a woman. I think you\nmay search the world for a more shameless exhibition.\n\nOut of every thousand of the general population in England, fifty\npersons are arrested for drunkenness; out of every thousand of\nthe general population in Ireland, one hundred and forty-three.\nIn other words, we produce almost three convicted drunkards to\ntheir one. And still we plume ourselves on our superior virtue.\n\nOur total income from agriculture, the staple industry of the\ncountry, is forty millions. On this, mainly, the nation has to\nlive. Yet before a penny is touched for food, clothing or\neducation, almost fourteen out of the forty millions are handed\nover to the sellers of drink.\n\nWithin fifteen years we lost half a million of our people, but we\nconsoled ourselves by opening eleven hundred and seventy-five new\npublic-houses within the same period.\n\n[Side note: Activity II]\n\nTo these figures I shall not add one word: it would only weaken\nthe argument. Will any one deny that the young priest has here an\nample field for his zeal and energy, and a splendid opportunity\nof proving himself the reformer and saviour of the people?\n\n[Side note: Emigration]\n\n_The third, most powerful source of lunacy, is Emigration_. It\nmay seem a paradox to say that the lessening of our people must\nnaturally mean the increase of insanity. When we say the country\nloses forty thousand of its inhabitants yearly, we make but a\npartial statement of the case. Whom do we lose? Not the average\nclass--the youth, and the youth only go. Two consequences follow.\nA boy, when he has arrived at his eighteenth year, has cost the\ncountry two hundred pounds, and a girl one hundred and fifty. Up\nto that time they were consumers, they produced little. This\nenables us to arrive at the appalling fact that Ireland every\nyear pours seven millions worth of human cargo into the emigrant\nship.\n\nWould that this was all, but worse remains to be said. Who stay\nwith us? The aged, the delicate, the infirm. The kernel of the\nrace is going, the husks are remaining with us. Intermarriage\namong these, intermingling of enfeebled and tainted blood is one\nof the main contributory causes why the walls of our asylums are\nenlarging.\n\n[Side note: Remedies]\n\nLet us see what the priest can do to fight the national curse,\nand stay the national haemorrhage.\n\n[Side note: The Points to Fix on]\n\nIn dealing with the drink question his main purpose should be to\npurify public opinion. Till that is done, every other effort must\nfail. What use in our inveighing against a vice if the people\ninsist on labelling it a virtue? Our first effort must be to get\nthe people to view it in an honest light--to see it as we see it.\nPublic opinion up to this could scarcely be more depraved.\n\n[Side note: The Village Scandal]\n\nIt was not an unusual thing to see young boys feigning\ndrunkenness and staggering through the village. Why? They were at\nan age when pride began to crave for notoriety and applause. They\nknew the public to which they appealed, and they took the\nshortest cut to win its approbation, and that was by pretending\nto be drunk.\n\nAn action like that is a terrible verdict against the national\nconscience. If public opinion were healthy, if it held for such\nmock heroes, not the incense of applause, but a lash of scorn, if\nboys were persuaded that so far from exhibiting in their conduct\na manly trait, they were only proving themselves degraded\npuppies, the cure would be immediate.\n\n[Side note: Perverted Judgments]\n\nListen to people talking of a man who has sent his children out\non the world, and his wife to an untimely grave, and you would\nthink it was some visitation of Providence overtook him, and that\nhe deserved all our sympathy.\n\nThe agent that dares to threaten an eviction has to carry\nrevolvers and walk the country under the shadow of police\nprotection; but the father and husband who evicts his own\nchildren and flings them into the slums of foreign cities, and\nsends his broken-hearted wife to the grave, not only has his\ncrime condoned but, by the same people, he is daily smothered in\nthe rose-leaves of apology. \"Poor fellow! Ah, it is a good man's\nfault!\" Not one hard word. Yet the world outside the shores of\nthis country are pouring scorn on the degraded name of drunken\nIreland.\n\n[Side note: The Young Men's Pride]\n\nWhy not appeal to the patriotic pride of the young men by showing\nthe contempt and distrust that follow our race because of this\nvice? It would touch them to the quick.\n\n[Side note: The Hereditary Taint]\n\nAnother point to be insisted on is:--The crime of the drunkard\ndoes not die with himself. Like lunacy or consumption it\ntransmits a sad heritage to his offspring. Ninety out of every\nhundred are drunkards because they inherited tainted blood.\n\nParents shudder at the bare possibility of their child being born\nan idiot, or with some repulsive birth-mark. Yet, before the\ninfant can lift its hand in protest, the parents poison its life\nat the very source and send it on the world with a moral\ndeformity marking its nature.\n\n[Side note: The Dawn]\n\nThese were the two sources of weakness in the past: a public\nopinion that fostered, instead of smiting, the curse, and an\nhereditary taint that grew stronger with every generation, while\nthe will to resist became more feeble. Thank God, the dawn of a\nbrighter day is with us: there is a healthy awakening of public\nopinion. The Gaelic revival has for the first time in our history\nlinked sobriety with patriotism: the word has gone forth that\nreconstructed Ireland must not rest on staggering pillars. The\nyoung priest of the future has the rising tide with him, and\nIreland has seen her darkest day.\n\nNo matter how we may deplore emigration, we must deal with it as\na fact.\n\n[Side note: Is the Emigrant Prepared]\n\n[Side note: His Peril Abroad]\n\nFrom what class are the emigrants drawn? From the young. It is\nhard to part with them: but there is one consolation. They go to\nbuild up the Church in other lands, but every precaution must be\ntaken to strengthen them for the trials awaiting them. Now, every\nreturned American and Australian priest will candidly tell you\nthat the Irish emigrant is poorly equipped for his new\nsurroundings.\n\nDr. Kenrick and Cardinal Gibbons go so far as to say that the\nneglect of the Irish priest in preparing his emigrating flock, is\nthe main source of leakage in the American Church. They are not\nable to answer the most ordinary objections, and they have not\nmoral strength to withstand the shafts of ridicule. In the fierce\ncross-currents of unbelief, he is poorly able to keep his\nfoothold. Many stagger; some fall, never to rise.\n\nWe reply:--Look at our Confirmation classes, and at the admirable\nlives of the youth before they leave us. Neither of these weaken\nthe contention. At the age a child is confirmed, he is incapable\nof reflective reason; his knowledge is three parts memory. It is\nbetween the Confirmation day and the twentieth year that the\nconvictions and principles that guide a lifetime are formed. Yet,\nthis is the precise period during which the young boy is\npermitted to starve.\n\nSecondly, the good life of a person reared in a purely Catholic\natmosphere is no guarantee of what he may become when\ntransplanted to a country where the very atmosphere palpitates\nwith doubt and denial.\n\n[Side note: Activity III]\n\nHere surely is a field that urgently demands a young priest's\nactivities.\n\n_Every young priest should be the eldest brother to the young men\nof the parish_, the repository of their confidence, the director\nof their sports, the organizer of their Feis; and when there is\ndanger of angry passions running high or of drunkenness getting\nin among them, the curate's place is not the study, but the\nfootball field.\n\nTo such a curate it would be an easy task to organize the young\nmen of the parish for a Sunday meeting during the four winter\nmonths, and give them a thorough course in \"Catholic belief\" or\n\"Faith of Our Fathers.\"\n\nThis would be a distinct advantage not only to those who are\nleaving, but to those who remain. The Catholic mind of this\ncountry is now, by travel and reading, brought into constant\ncontact with Protestant and infidel thought.\n\nThese meetings should wear as little of the appearance of a class\nas possible. Boys should be taught to look upon them as friendly\nmeetings of brothers discussing the weapons with which to face\nthe future: the session might appropriately close with an\nexcursion or a social evening.\n\nNow that we have treated emigration as a fact, let us turn to a\nfew of the means by which it might be lessened.\n\n[Side note: The Summer Swallow]\n\nA constant source of temptation is the sight of the returned\nemigrant with flash jewellery, superior airs and stories of\nboasted wealth.\n\n[Side note: Activity IV]\n\nWhen summer brings these returned swallows, a spirit of\ndiscontent with their social surroundings seizes the youth. The\npriest's duty is to impress upon them that the bright side of the\npicture alone is presented to them: there is another side of\nawful darkness.\n\nThe successful one they see, but the fate of the submerged\nninety-nine is hidden from their eyes.\n\nOur people emigrate without a knowledge of skilled labour; they\nhave to take the lowest occupations and bring up their children\nin vile surroundings: they are lost in shoals.\n\nHad the youth of this country the writer's experience: did they\nsee hundreds of their countrymen sleeping in the parks of Sydney,\nwithout the shelter of a roof and without knowing where to turn\nin the morning for a bit: could they hear the thirty-two accents\nof Ireland in the low streets of dens where souls and bodies rot,\nthey would try their hands at a dozen means of winning honest\nbread before turning their faces towards the emigrant ship.\n\nCould we but take the twenty-two thousand Irish-born convicts out\nof the jails of one city--New York--with their clanking fetters\nand arrow-branded jackets, and march them through the length and\nbreadth of Ireland, and show the youth, that, if some wear\nbangles, others wear handcuffs, it would go far to cure the\nmicrobe of unrest.\n\nEvery tale of distress, failure and hardship abroad should be\nrepeated in the Irish provincial journals. No effort should be\nspared to show the people, not one but both sides of the picture.\n\n[Side note: Activity V Amusements]\n\nOne of the most important problems facing the young priest of\nto-day is:--How to organise healthy and sinless amusements for\nthe people. Our skies are gloomy, our climate depressing, and the\nvery dreariness of country life causes thousands to fly. Look at\nthe groups of young men at the village corners, where is the hope\nor contentment in their looks?\n\n[Side note: Goldsmith's Days]\n\nI think you may challenge the world's literature for more\nwholesome pictures of rural pleasures than those mirrored in the\n\"Deserted Village.\" They are not creations of the poet's fancy,\nbut chronicles of facts that lived before his eyes. In them, you\nhave the image of Ireland as she lived before the black shadow of\n'47 fell upon her. All went on in the open daylight, under the\neyes of parents and friends.\n\n    \"The young contended while the old surveyed.\"\n\nVirtue was safe, tired hearts were cheered, and, whilst these\nsports flourished, few Irish boys or girls wanted to know the\nroad to the emigrant ship.\n\nWould it be possible to re-create the Ireland of Goldsmith's\ndays?\n\n[Side note: The Winter's Night]\n\nOne thing, however, is not outside the range of possibility--to\npersuade parents in rural districts to make some effort to\nbrighten the lives of their children; to have all household work\ndone two hours before bedtime, to have a bright fire on the\nhearth and a bright lamp on the table, and a plentiful supply of\nthe Catholic Truth Society books, Catholic papers and periodicals\nalways at hand. Many a poor boy and girl, whose thoughts to-day\nare turning to Sydney or New York as an escape from cheerless\ndrudgery, would then read a new meaning into the word \"home.\" No\nmatter how toil presses during the day, the prospective two hours\nof brightness and pleasure cheers them.\n\n\"Give a man a taste for reading and the means of gratifying it,\"\nsays Sir John Herschel,[1] \"and you can hardly fail to make him a\nhappy man, you place him in contact with the best society of\nevery period of history--the wisest, the wittiest, the tenderest,\nthe bravest and the purest characters that adorn humanity.\" A\nparent who cannot line his child's pocket with gold has in this\nsimple plan a means of enriching his head with knowledge, and so\nsending him on the world armed. Self-respect would grow; the\ngross pleasures of the card-table or the public-house would lose\ntheir charm. Your own words would fall on ears steadily becoming\nmore intelligent. The parish after five years would wear a new\nface.\n\n[1] Eton Address\n\n[Side note: Activity VI The country Schoolhouse]\n\nCould not the young men be gathered once a week during the winter\nmonths, and the school house be converted into a literary,\ndebating or lecture room?\n\nIf the young priest prepared one lecture a month, he might\nrevolutionize the district by teaching the people how to organize\nand foster small industries or technical branches suited to the\nlocalities. There is wealth in the mushrooms on the field, the\nblackberries on the hedge, and the cresses by the stream. In\nother countries thousands are made by these unnoticed products.\nWhy not here?\n\n[Side note: Our Ruins]\n\nWhen the summer comes, the curate could easily organize\noccasional bicycle excursions with the young men to some\nmemorable Catholic ruin, in whose history he should be well made\nup. The saints and scholars who have glorified our annals are\nlying around our churches; we stumble over their graves for forty\nyears sometimes, without enquiring who they were or what they\ndid. I am aware there are laudable exceptions: they are, however,\nisolated. When the public wants to know anything about our\nmonasteries, they often have to turn to the layman and even to\nthe parson.\n\nThe small number of priests in the Archaeological Society is a\nstriking reproach. One would think that our saints and their\nworks were something to be ashamed of, since the natural\nguardians of their memories have practically abandoned them. This\ncountry is filled with catacombs. Every child should be made\nacquainted with the life of the leading saint, and the history of\nthe most memorable ruin in the locality; those hoary prophets,\nnow so mute, would then speak with tongues of fire out of the dim\npast, telling the story of our fathers' Faith and heroic\nachievements.\n\nLet us now rise to a higher plane of the young priest's\nactivities.\n\n[Side note: Activity VII Literature]\n\nIt is a stupendous and a humiliating fact that, while this\ncountry is deluged with the writings of the sensualist and the\ninfidel, there are over three thousand brainy priests upon the\nland, and the world of thought knows nothing of them.\n\n[Side note: Cambridge and Oxford]\n\n[Side note: First Premium Men]\n\nWhen we read of brilliant students at Cambridge or Oxford, we\nnaturally look forward to see them leaders of thought or action\nin their own land, and we are seldom disappointed. Our Irish\ncolleges are discharging yearly swarms from their doors, many of\nthem men with brilliant records. Who hears of them after? What\nhave these first-class premium men, who gave such splendid\npromise, done with their gifts and knowledge? How little does the\nIrish Church owe them? The day the premium book was handed them,\nall serious effort died. They were content to rest for the\nremainder of their lives under the shade of their academic\nlaurels.\n\nThe soldier is not satisfied with the triumphs of his recruit\ndays. He knows that the purpose of his life then is not to gain a\nprize and stop at that, but to acquire efficient skill in the use\nof his weapons that he may become a living force on the future\nfield of action.\n\nThe college is but the training ground, not the final goal; the\nreal field of our activities lies outside its walls. Yet when the\nscholastic course closes these richly-gifted men dip below the\nhorizon, and the world seldom hears of them again; the\ndestructive wave that in its silent strength is covering the land\nreceives no check from them; they are engraving no impression on\nthe intellect of the day.\n\nOur humiliation and surprise increase when we turn to the\npublisher's lists and see parsons, who have to prepare to meet\ncritical audiences Sunday after Sunday, and are weighted with the\ncares of heavy families, holding leading places in every literary\nenterprise.\n\nNow, if our young men set to work to popularise our native\nsaints, and in their lives dig up the buried glories of our\nCatholic past, if each diocese produced even one crisp\nwell-written life, what a splendid step in advance.\n\nBut the demand for our literary activities is far wider than the\nshores of Ireland.\n\n[Side note: America and Australia]\n\nThe American and Australian Churches are daughters of this soil.\nWe are proud of them; they are the frontier regiments of our\nfighting army; they are daily advancing Patrick's standard over\nfresh fields of conquest: but what help have we given them?\n\nThe present generation of priests there are builders. But, like\nthe men on Jerusalem's walls, they have to grasp the sword in one\nhand and the trowel in the other.\n\nProtestantism in those lands is fast running to its final\ndeclension--naked infidelity. Now the infidel knows no rest;\nactivity is the law of his existence. The buried ghosts of past\nheresies are resuscitated and draped in all the attractiveness of\nmodern dress. The arsenal of error stored by every perverse\ngenius from Arius to Tyndal is daily discharged into the Catholic\nranks. There is scarcely a truth free from truculent assault.\n\nIt is hard to ask the men toiling in the glare of the camp fires,\nto fight the battles and manufacture the shells.\n\nNow, all that is best of French Catholic intellect has been given\nto this cause for the past century. The priest who would devote a\nfew winters to the holy toil of translating this into a shape\nsuitable to the needs of our fighting millions would do an act of\nmerit that God alone could measure. Yet what ammunition have we\nsupplied to our brave soldiers? Scarcely a grain of shot.\n\n[Side note: The Causes of Sterility]\n\nWhy this sterility? Why this barrenness? Is it our native\nlethargy or our native modesty? or the defective training of our\ncolleges in neglecting to foster literary tastes?\n\nWe will not pause to enquire. That there is one sad cause is\nbeyond all question--the bitterness of clerical criticism. The\nIrish priest who takes to the cultivation of letters ought to\nchoose St. Sebastian for his patron saint; for he will have an\narrow planted in every square inch of his body.\n\nWhile we have no word of condemnation for the writers who are\nsucking the life-blood of Faith from our people, should one of\nourselves show style in his sermons, or attach his name to a\nmagazine article, the amount of mordant criticism he has to face\nis sufficient to make the stoutest heart sink.\n\nThe average Irish skull in the hands of a phrenologist will show\na development of destructive bumps surpassed by none, but when he\nsearches for constructive ones, a glass of no small magnifying\npower must come to his aid.\n\nThe habit of sneering criticism begins in the college and should\nbe killed in its birth-place. The man who drops an icy or an acid\nword into the warm enthusiasm of a young heart commits a great\ncrime. He may paralyse the purpose of a noble life. Let us\nreserve all our hard blows and hard words for Christ's enemies,\nand a cheerful encouragement to His friends should not cost us a\ndrop of blood.\n\n[Side note: The Task is Finished]\n\nHere we pause, fully conscious of the incompleteness of our task.\nThe many possible and profitable fields of the young priest's\nactivities are no more than hinted at.\n\nWe are passing through a period of change: old landmarks are\ndisappearing, but if the future is to be made secure, the priest\nof the present must cling to the people and teach them to cling\nto him. In the revival of their industries or their language, in\nthe Feis or the hurling field, the priest should be the source of\ntheir inspiration and their controlling director.\n\nWoe to the parish where the priest sits idly or sinks into dreamy\nlethargy while the people pass from him, away.\n\n[Side note: Farewell]\n\nThe world is moving onward. Our world is willing just now that we\nmove with and direct it. But how long, O Lord, how long? Let us\nremain stationary and it will move without us; and once lost,\nlost for ever.\n\nA glance at the Continent should fire us to desperate efforts.\nYou see the Church dashed to pieces in the seething vortex of\ndestruction; in some countries honey-combed to rottenness, ready\nto totter and fall before the first outburst of Socialistic fury.\nThe Press teems with ribald jeer and blatant blasphemy. The\npriesthood, a separate caste, hounded like lepers of old from the\nhighways of public life, voiceless and despised--the apostate\npriest hailed with delight smothered in incense--the faithful\npriest lashed at the pillar of public scorn. O God, shall\nIreland--the last fortress--follow?\n\nThat question is for us to answer: the shaping of the future lies\nin the hands of the living present.\n\nLet listlessness prevail, and when an apostle of evil does arise,\nperhaps in the not distant future, he will appeal to the past for\nhis justification.\n\nHe will tell the people, that for a full century three thousand\nfour hundred priests were upon the land. Talent, leisure and\nunbounded trust were theirs. Yet, where are the literature,\nvillage libraries, social organizations, or other agencies of\nenlightenment promoted by them? Has not the country rotted and\nthe emigrant ship been glutted? Away with them! Why cumber they\nthe ground?\n\nThat day, please God, shall never come, if we sink deep into our\nsouls the conviction that a great effort is required, and fling\nour hearts into it; that the ever increasing new needs and foes\nof to-day cannot be met with the antiquated weapons of the past;\nthat the old rut must be abandoned and the new ground broken:\nthen the future is secure. The old citadel of Catholic\nChristendom will continue a fortress, flying the old flag,\ntowering above the Atlantic breakers with a strength impregnable\nand a Faith undimmed--a Pharos of spiritual splendour.\n\nAnd when in other lands eyes grow dim with the mists of despair,\nthey will look up and the light of a new-born hope will enkindle\nwithin them. And when hearts in other lands are sinking from\nrepeated failure, they will pulse with the inspiration of a fresh\ncourage when the story of our efforts and our triumphs is\nrecalled.\n\nTHE END\n\n\n\nPRESS NOTICES\n\n\"Every thoughtful mind amongst us, whether priest or layman, will\nthank the courageous writer who throws upon our insular\nprejudices the flashlights of other civilisations, and shows us\ncertain defects which we can only neglect at our own peril. We\nhope that this little book will find its way to every student's\ndesk in Ireland and abroad, and that its lessons will be taken to\nheart by professors and _alumni_ alike. It is worth reading if\nonly for its style, which is far above that usually assumed by\nwriters on similar subjects. But its chief value is in the deep\ninsight it manifests as to the wants of the age and the necessary\nequipment of the young apostles of our race, whose mission will\nbe to strange peoples and curious, though some times sympathetic,\nsouls who are seeking the light and failing to find it. It is a\nbook to be read with humility and a total absence of that mild\nconceit which refuses to accept any but domestic and partial\ncriticism. The words are those of a thinker and an orator.\"--\nCanon Sheehan in the _Freeman's Journal_.\n\n\"Anyone who has lived five years in Australia would advise every\nyoung priest coming to this country to have a copy of Father\nPhelan's admirable book in his luggage, and read it more than\nonce. The young ecclesiastic coming hither who treats lightly the\nadvice given him will find by-and-by that every line of the book\nis true; every priest who has lived a few years on the Australian\nmission will know already that it is so.\"--_Melbourne Advocate_.\n\n\"The Rev. M. Phelan, S.J., stresses the necessity of culture of\nmind and manners for young priests and seminarians. Father\nPhelan, himself a noted preacher, devotes several helpful\nchapters to the means of acquiring excellence in preaching. The\nbook is brimful of valuable hints and helps, and their value is\nnot diminished by the fact that the style is racy and readable\nthroughout. The following is intended for Irish readers, but the\nadvice has wider application:--'. . . He should not commit the\nsignal folly of attempting to engraft an imported accent on his\nown; he should speak as an Irishman, but as an educated\nIrishman.' 'The Young Priest's Keepsake' should become a\n_vade-mecum_.\"--_America_.\n\n\"With considerable skill and plenty of plain speaking, Father\nPhelan gives some admirable advice to young priests in regard to\nthe study of English and the composition and delivery of sermons.\nHis experiences in Ireland and on the foreign missions are his\nclaim to say what his opinion is, and his opinion is weighty.\nFather Phelan has wise counsels to give, and gives them in a most\npleasing way. He is always bright, always interesting, and always\ninstructive. His book deserves to be known to the clergy at\nlarge, and we wish it the circulation it deserves.\"--_Catholic\nTimes_.\n\n\"This is, indeed, a very valuable book for the young priest. It\nis intended chiefly for those who are going on the foreign\nmission, and it would be well for them if they would take to\nheart the sound advice given to them here by a man of wide\nexperience and great success in the missionary field. The first\nchapter on the necessity of culture and gentlemanly manners is\nalone worth the price of the book. Young priests have probably\noften heard of the necessity of writing their sermons, but I\ndoubt if they ever had the advantage of having it put before them\nin such a practical and convincing fashion as that in which it is\ndone by Father Phelan in his third chapter. The same notes of\npractical sound sense mark the chapters on 'Pulpit Oratory' and\non 'Elocution.' Altogether, this book should be the _Keepsake_ of\nevery young priest. It contains many things that will benefit\npriests, young or old, of every description. Father Phelan\ndeserves our thanks as well as our congratulations on the success\nof his work.\"--_Irish Ecclesiastical Record_.\n\n\"A wonderful amount of practically useful advice, the matured\nfruit of vast missionary experience, seasoned by conscientious\nstudy and a fraternal longing to assist the young priest are the\nmost salient features of this inimitably-written volume. The\nstyle is excellent. In crisp, accurate language every paragraph,\nevery sentence even, tells exactly what the writer wishes to\nstate, and no more. . . . The book has not appeared an hour too\nsoon. . . . It is bound to be of immense service to Irish\nstudents, especially those preparing for a missionary life in\nforeign countries. . . . I take the responsibility of highly\nrecommending Father Phelan's book to those for whose instruction\nand efficiency the work has been written.\"--The Author of\n\"Innisfail\" in _Sydney Freeman's Journal_.\n\n\"Father Phelan is a model of the ideas he advocates. His English\nis pure without being dull for a moment. He exemplifies his\ntheories. If you are a preacher, or wish to be, if you are\nteaching rhetoric or learning rhetoric, if you are a seminarian\nor a friend of a seminarian, get this book for yourself or your\nfriend.\"--_American Messenger_.\n\n\"Those who know Father Phelan as a preacher will not require to\nbe told that his book is simple, solid, and practical, and that\nhis method of exposition is lucid, homely, and vigorous. Purely\nliterary effort has been no aim of the writer, and yet it would\nbe hard to name a recent book which can be read with greater\npleasure, for the charm of its style alone. The expression is cut\ndown to the last necessary word, but every necessary word is\nthere; every idea is expressed simply, but adequately, and with\nthe finish and lustre of the diamond. . . . It would be\ninteresting to the reader and a pleasure to the writer to quote\nfrom Father Phelan's work some of the many magnificent passages,\nbut the book is so beautifully knit together, ideas follow each\nother in such logical sequence, that no selection could give an\nadequate impression of the work. But with an easy conscience I\ncan recommend every clerical student, every young priest, and for\nthat matter, old priests too, to procure a copy, confident that\nany reader who takes it up will read it through, as I have done,\nbefore laying it down, and feel the better for having done so.\"--\nIbh Maine in _The Leader_.\n\n\"The Rev. M. J. Phelan, S.J., says much that is sensible in his\nlittle volume. We are glad that he denounces 'the signal folly of\nattempting to engraft an imported accent on his own native one,\nwhich is sometimes done by the Irish priest in England with\ndeplorable results. It is a useful little book, well printed and\nneatly bound.\"--(English) _Catholic Book Notes_.\n\n\"The title of a clerical _vade-mecum_ is scarcely too ambitious a\none to give to 'The Young Priest's Keepsake'; a work which cannot\nbut be regarded by all whose good fortune it will be to read it,\nas one of the most admirable works dealing with clerical life\nthat has appeared in Ireland for many a day. The author, Rev. M.\nJ. Phelan, S.J., bases his claim for a hearing upon a long\nexperience as missionary priest, and upon the possession of\nordinary powers of observation. Those who know Father Phelan rate\nhis claims much higher. His fame as a preacher is spread\nthroughout the length and breadth of Ireland. His wide and varied\nlearning, his acute powers of observation, his keen sense of\nhumour and sound practical judgment are common topics of\nconversation amongst a wide circle of friends. The fine flower\nand fruit ripened by constant study and wide experience are\nmodestly displayed in this little book.\"--_Irish Independent_.\n\n\"The ecclesiastical student who takes up 'The Young Priest's\nKeepsake' will quickly realise that he has not only fallen in\nwith a wise mentor but a cordially kind friend, to say nothing of\na charming writer. The way is marked out for him by one who has\ntrodden it, and who, as we can gather, from the evident culture\nand literary grace of his pages and his renown as a preacher of\nmissions, has been no laggard in those studies which he so\nearnestly recommends to young priests and ecclesiastical\nstudents. . . . If Father Phelan's lessons were taken to heart by\nthe coming race of priests we, or at least our children, would\nbehold the Catholic pulpit transformed into a mighty living\nforce. At present it is far from being that. It is in this\ncountry the weakest part of the great redeeming machinery of the\nchurch, and it should be so strong and effective. . . . The book\nis brilliantly written, and, as Father Phelan maintains his\nposition in no mamby-pamby or apologetic fashion, the reader is\ntreated to some very lively passages.\"--_The Tribune_\n(Melbourne).\n\n\"In this little work from the pen of Father Phelan, S.J., those\nwho are in course of preparation for the high calling of the\nsacred ministry will find some advice worthy of serious\nconsideration. . . . It is an age of 'experts'; as an 'expert' of\nundoubted merit in the sphere of missionary work Father Phelan\nwell may claim the right of giving authoritative advice to those\naspiring to that field of labour in which his own efforts have\nbeen crowned with such signal success. . . . Were the revered\nauthor not, in fact what he is, a Jesuit missionary of\nacknowledged excellence and wide fame, the value of his advice\nwould be none the less evident on a thoughtful perusal of his\nbook. . . . Even a mere casual reading would send the young\nstudent away with a clear realization of the steps he must take\nto secure that in his mind or personality there shall be nothing\nto make any man, however critical, however captious, think less\nof that Living Word whose mouthpiece it will be his lot in life\nto be. . . . He has done well and very well in trying to make it\neasy for future workers in the same field to do justice to their\nsacred calling and to themselves.\"--_Cork Examiner_.\n\n\"He knows what he is talking about, and he speaks with a\nfirst-hand knowledge of what is required by young priests coming\nto Australia.\"--_Catholic Press_ (Sydney).\n\n\"Amongst the many qualifications which the author has brought to\nhis delicate task, not the least are his earnestness and his\nenthusiasm for his subject. These qualities are responsible for\nsome of the best features of the book. They have given it its\nthoroughly constructive character and tempered even its severest\ncriticisms. The greater part of the book is devoted to sacred\neloquence. Here, of course, the writer speaks with the authority\nof a master. He will deserve the gratitude of many a young\npreacher for having given to the world the benefit of his own\nexperience in an art which he has made so completely his own. In\nthe chapter on elocution he lays down excellent principles for\nthe delivery of sermons and suggests means of curing the most\ncommon defects that mar pulpit oratory. Finally, he gives\nelaborate hints on the best means of composing sermons. For\ninstance, the sermon writer is advised to seize without delay,\nand commit to writing, a brilliant thought no matter how\nunseasonable the time at which it presents itself. When a train\nof thought is allowed to go by it either never returns or returns\nlike the Sybil with diminished treasure. This is but one grain of\nthe practical wisdom which is scattered so liberally through the\npages of 'The Young Priest's Keepsake'.\"--_Mungret Annual_.\n\n\"A very thoughtful and eloquent book. No better book of its kind\ncould be in the hands of young priests who are at the beginning\nof life's work. Its table of contents shows the subjects which\nfind a place in its pages. Under each of these headings Father\nPhelan gives much useful information and adds a charm to the\nknowledge which he imparts by the apt illustrations with which he\nadorns it.\"--_Theological Quarterly_.\n\n\"This book is sure to be read with keen interest by a great many\nyoung priests and priests no longer young; and it is not likely\nto drop out of use after a few months. Father Phelan speaks from\nwide, practical experience, and he develops his views with\nclearness and earnestness, and with many fresh and vivid\nillustrations. We would be surprised to hear that any priest\nyoung or old taking up 'The Young Priest's Keepsake' and turning\nover the pages, at No. 50 Upper O'Connell Street, laid it down\nand went out without arranging to have it sent after him.\"--\n_Irish Monthly_.\n\n\"It is well known that Father Phelan is an authority on the\nsubject of pulpit eloquence, for he is himself one of the most\neloquent preachers of the Jesuit Order, and his profound\neloquence and ripe scholarship are only equalled by his deep\nknowledge of human nature. . . . The theological students and\nothers who wish to acquire the art of speaking to the heart, and\npreachers who realize that they themselves are becoming stale and\ncommonplace, cannot do better than read and inwardly digest this\nbeautiful work.\"--_Galway Express_.\n\n\"'The Young Priest's Keepsake' seems to us an exceedingly\npractical and commonsense work. When we have said this much we\nhave said no more of Father Phelan's book than it deserves. The\nvolume has been admirably produced by Messrs. M. H. Gill & Son,\non Irish paper, with Irish ink, and bears the imprimatur of the\nIrish trade mark. We hope it will have the wide circulation it\ndeserves.\"--_Irish Catholic_.\n\n\"The Rev M. J. Phelan, S.J., gives youthful clerics the benefit\nof his personal experience as a student in ecclesiastical\ncolleges, and a missionary for almost a quarter of a century in\nAustralia and Ireland. The volume has a chapter on culture, one\non English, three on sermons, and a final one on elocution. They\nare all suggestive, and some of them will prove not unprofitable\nto priests who can no longer be called young.\"--_Ave Maria_.","title":"The Young Priest's Keepsake","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":33857}