The Young Priest's Keepsake Part 13
[Side note: Our Ruins]
When the summer comes, the curate could easily organize occasional bicycle excursions with the young men to some memorable Catholic ruin, in whose history he should be well made up. The saints and scholars who have glorified our annals are lying around our churches; we stumble over their graves for forty years sometimes, without enquiring who they were or what they did. I am aware there are laudable exceptions: they are, however, isolated. When the public wants to know anything about our monasteries, they often have to turn to the layman and even to the parson.
The small number of priests in the Archaeological Society is a striking reproach. One would think that our saints and their works were something to be ashamed of, since the natural guardians of their memories have practically abandoned them. This country is filled with catacombs. Every child should be made acquainted with the life of the leading saint, and the history of the most memorable ruin in the locality; those h.o.a.ry prophets, now so mute, would then speak with tongues of fire out of the dim past, telling the story of our fathers' Faith and heroic achievements.
Let us now rise to a higher plane of the young priest's activities.
[Side note: Activity VII Literature]
It is a stupendous and a humiliating fact that, while this country is deluged with the writings of the sensualist and the infidel, there are over three thousand brainy priests upon the land, and the world of thought knows nothing of them.
[Side note: Cambridge and Oxford]
[Side note: First Premium Men]
When we read of brilliant students at Cambridge or Oxford, we naturally look forward to see them leaders of thought or action in their own land, and we are seldom disappointed. Our Irish colleges are discharging yearly swarms from their doors, many of them men with brilliant records. Who hears of them after? What have these first-cla.s.s premium men, who gave such splendid promise, done with their gifts and knowledge? How little does the Irish Church owe them? The day the premium book was handed them, all serious effort died. They were content to rest for the remainder of their lives under the shade of their academic laurels.
The soldier is not satisfied with the triumphs of his recruit days. He knows that the purpose of his life then is not to gain a prize and stop at that, but to acquire efficient skill in the use of his weapons that he may become a living force on the future field of action.
The college is but the training ground, not the final goal; the real field of our activities lies outside its walls. Yet when the scholastic course closes these richly-gifted men dip below the horizon, and the world seldom hears of them again; the destructive wave that in its silent strength is covering the land receives no check from them; they are engraving no impression on the intellect of the day.
Our humiliation and surprise increase when we turn to the publisher's lists and see parsons, who have to prepare to meet critical audiences Sunday after Sunday, and are weighted with the cares of heavy families, holding leading places in every literary enterprise.
Now, if our young men set to work to popularise our native saints, and in their lives dig up the buried glories of our Catholic past, if each diocese produced even one crisp well-written life, what a splendid step in advance.
But the demand for our literary activities is far wider than the sh.o.r.es of Ireland.
[Side note: America and Australia]
The American and Australian Churches are daughters of this soil.
We are proud of them; they are the frontier regiments of our fighting army; they are daily advancing Patrick's standard over fresh fields of conquest: but what help have we given them?
The present generation of priests there are builders. But, like the men on Jerusalem's walls, they have to grasp the sword in one hand and the trowel in the other.
Protestantism in those lands is fast running to its final declension--naked infidelity. Now the infidel knows no rest; activity is the law of his existence. The buried ghosts of past heresies are resuscitated and draped in all the attractiveness of modern dress. The a.r.s.enal of error stored by every perverse genius from Arius to Tyndal is daily discharged into the Catholic ranks. There is scarcely a truth free from truculent a.s.sault.
It is hard to ask the men toiling in the glare of the camp fires, to fight the battles and manufacture the sh.e.l.ls.
Now, all that is best of French Catholic intellect has been given to this cause for the past century. The priest who would devote a few winters to the holy toil of translating this into a shape suitable to the needs of our fighting millions would do an act of merit that G.o.d alone could measure. Yet what ammunition have we supplied to our brave soldiers? Scarcely a grain of shot.
[Side note: The Causes of Sterility]
Why this sterility? Why this barrenness? Is it our native lethargy or our native modesty? or the defective training of our colleges in neglecting to foster literary tastes?
We will not pause to enquire. That there is one sad cause is beyond all question--the bitterness of clerical criticism. The Irish priest who takes to the cultivation of letters ought to choose St. Sebastian for his patron saint; for he will have an arrow planted in every square inch of his body.
While we have no word of condemnation for the writers who are sucking the life-blood of Faith from our people, should one of ourselves show style in his sermons, or attach his name to a magazine article, the amount of mordant criticism he has to face is sufficient to make the stoutest heart sink.
The average Irish skull in the hands of a phrenologist will show a development of destructive b.u.mps surpa.s.sed by none, but when he searches for constructive ones, a gla.s.s of no small magnifying power must come to his aid.
The habit of sneering criticism begins in the college and should be killed in its birth-place. The man who drops an icy or an acid word into the warm enthusiasm of a young heart commits a great crime. He may paralyse the purpose of a n.o.ble life. Let us reserve all our hard blows and hard words for Christ's enemies, and a cheerful encouragement to His friends should not cost us a drop of blood.
[Side note: The Task is Finished]
Here we pause, fully conscious of the incompleteness of our task.
The many possible and profitable fields of the young priest's activities are no more than hinted at.
We are pa.s.sing through a period of change: old landmarks are disappearing, but if the future is to be made secure, the priest of the present must cling to the people and teach them to cling to him. In the revival of their industries or their language, in the Feis or the hurling field, the priest should be the source of their inspiration and their controlling director.
Woe to the parish where the priest sits idly or sinks into dreamy lethargy while the people pa.s.s from him, away.
[Side note: Farewell]
The world is moving onward. Our world is willing just now that we move with and direct it. But how long, O Lord, how long? Let us remain stationary and it will move without us; and once lost, lost for ever.
A glance at the Continent should fire us to desperate efforts.
You see the Church dashed to pieces in the seething vortex of destruction; in some countries honey-combed to rottenness, ready to totter and fall before the first outburst of Socialistic fury.
The Press teems with ribald jeer and blatant blasphemy. The priesthood, a separate caste, hounded like lepers of old from the highways of public life, voiceless and despised--the apostate priest hailed with delight smothered in incense--the faithful priest lashed at the pillar of public scorn. O G.o.d, shall Ireland--the last fortress--follow?
That question is for us to answer: the shaping of the future lies in the hands of the living present.
Let listlessness prevail, and when an apostle of evil does arise, perhaps in the not distant future, he will appeal to the past for his justification.
He will tell the people, that for a full century three thousand four hundred priests were upon the land. Talent, leisure and unbounded trust were theirs. Yet, where are the literature, village libraries, social organizations, or other agencies of enlightenment promoted by them? Has not the country rotted and the emigrant ship been glutted? Away with them! Why c.u.mber they the ground?
That day, please G.o.d, shall never come, if we sink deep into our souls the conviction that a great effort is required, and fling our hearts into it; that the ever increasing new needs and foes of to-day cannot be met with the antiquated weapons of the past; that the old rut must be abandoned and the new ground broken: then the future is secure. The old citadel of Catholic Christendom will continue a fortress, flying the old flag, towering above the Atlantic breakers with a strength impregnable and a Faith undimmed--a Pharos of spiritual splendour.
And when in other lands eyes grow dim with the mists of despair, they will look up and the light of a new-born hope will enkindle within them. And when hearts in other lands are sinking from repeated failure, they will pulse with the inspiration of a fresh courage when the story of our efforts and our triumphs is recalled.
THE END
PRESS NOTICES
"Every thoughtful mind amongst us, whether priest or layman, will thank the courageous writer who throws upon our insular prejudices the flashlights of other civilisations, and shows us certain defects which we can only neglect at our own peril. We hope that this little book will find its way to every student's desk in Ireland and abroad, and that its lessons will be taken to heart by professors and _alumni_ alike. It is worth reading if only for its style, which is far above that usually a.s.sumed by writers on similar subjects. But its chief value is in the deep insight it manifests as to the wants of the age and the necessary equipment of the young apostles of our race, whose mission will be to strange peoples and curious, though some times sympathetic, souls who are seeking the light and failing to find it. It is a book to be read with humility and a total absence of that mild conceit which refuses to accept any but domestic and partial criticism. The words are those of a thinker and an orator."-- Canon Sheehan in the _Freeman's Journal_.
"Anyone who has lived five years in Australia would advise every young priest coming to this country to have a copy of Father Phelan's admirable book in his luggage, and read it more than once. The young ecclesiastic coming hither who treats lightly the advice given him will find by-and-by that every line of the book is true; every priest who has lived a few years on the Australian mission will know already that it is so."--_Melbourne Advocate_.
"The Rev. M. Phelan, S.J., stresses the necessity of culture of mind and manners for young priests and seminarians. Father Phelan, himself a noted preacher, devotes several helpful chapters to the means of acquiring excellence in preaching. The book is brimful of valuable hints and helps, and their value is not diminished by the fact that the style is racy and readable throughout. The following is intended for Irish readers, but the advice has wider application:--'. . . He should not commit the signal folly of attempting to engraft an imported accent on his own; he should speak as an Irishman, but as an educated Irishman.' 'The Young Priest's Keepsake' should become a _vade-mec.u.m_."--_America_.
"With considerable skill and plenty of plain speaking, Father Phelan gives some admirable advice to young priests in regard to the study of English and the composition and delivery of sermons.
His experiences in Ireland and on the foreign missions are his claim to say what his opinion is, and his opinion is weighty.
Father Phelan has wise counsels to give, and gives them in a most pleasing way. He is always bright, always interesting, and always instructive. His book deserves to be known to the clergy at large, and we wish it the circulation it deserves."--_Catholic Times_.
"This is, indeed, a very valuable book for the young priest. It is intended chiefly for those who are going on the foreign mission, and it would be well for them if they would take to heart the sound advice given to them here by a man of wide experience and great success in the missionary field. The first chapter on the necessity of culture and gentlemanly manners is alone worth the price of the book. Young priests have probably often heard of the necessity of writing their sermons, but I doubt if they ever had the advantage of having it put before them in such a practical and convincing fashion as that in which it is done by Father Phelan in his third chapter. The same notes of practical sound sense mark the chapters on 'Pulpit Oratory' and on 'Elocution.' Altogether, this book should be the _Keepsake_ of every young priest. It contains many things that will benefit priests, young or old, of every description. Father Phelan deserves our thanks as well as our congratulations on the success of his work."--_Irish Ecclesiastical Record_.
"A wonderful amount of practically useful advice, the matured fruit of vast missionary experience, seasoned by conscientious study and a fraternal longing to a.s.sist the young priest are the most salient features of this inimitably-written volume. The style is excellent. In crisp, accurate language every paragraph, every sentence even, tells exactly what the writer wishes to state, and no more. . . . The book has not appeared an hour too soon. . . . It is bound to be of immense service to Irish students, especially those preparing for a missionary life in foreign countries. . . . I take the responsibility of highly recommending Father Phelan's book to those for whose instruction and efficiency the work has been written."--The Author of "Innisfail" in _Sydney Freeman's Journal_.