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results ? What, but want of prudence, want of patience, and, above all, those infamous broils between professed followers of one common master. “Men, countrymen, be united, true - just to each other, and others will be just to you. Plunge no more the sword of discord into the bosoms of brethren, and the world shall not prevail against you.”
HAVING completed my studies at Maynooth, I proceeded to Dublin, and became an officiating priest in the chapel of St. Cross. In the cure of souls in that great city, I should have all the scope that heart could wish, for the inculcation and practice of principles of universal benevolence. I had never abode in the metropolis before. If its dimensions surprised me, still more did the ever-restless inhabitants. Gaunt poverty stalked side by side with lordly opulence and splendour. There were palaces replete with luxury, hovels the abode of dreariest misery. Pleasure seemed the rule with those that had the means; vilest sustenance-enough that it kept body and soul together, the exclusive object of the poor. And, gracious heaven, thought I, this has been going on for generations! Every enjoyment was drained to the lees, the revolting lees of exhaustion and bitterness. During the day, keen-eyed, faminepinched vagrants — at night, swarming courtesans, harlot children — young men in all the savagism of intemperance, uttering yells, or daring those they met to rude encounters : houseless wretches cowering in porches, or with piercing intreaty imploring vain charity at the areas !
Day by day an insatiate desire to plumb the depths of human suffering led me through lanes and alleys, the dim recesses of the Liberties, haunts along the quays, purlieus of ancient churches. Here, dwellings, cellars, that reeked with every polluting abomination : swarms of dirt-stained children children, O God, that had never heard the birds sing, seen the flowers blow, the brooks leap, or the grass green! Here, too, I had to learn that there was a deeper misery than that which met the day -a misery that shunned exposure ; and withal, midst this infamous destitution, sacrifices to the dearest charities of life-sacrifices no tongue could tell, no pen recount- sacrifices unheeded, unknown, and that never should be known, till declared by the trump of angels in eternity!
I was to deliver my first sermon; the lady Cornelia and her sweet daughter were there, the noble Cornelius also. They would honour their friend by being among his auditors.
The text on which I had chosen to dilate, was from John, “ A new commandment give unto you, that you love one another.”
Brothers, friends, you hear these words ! Ere eighteen hundred years, they fell from holy lips in that beautiful and still unforgotten tongue, and yet so glorious vehicle of immortal truth. Love one another: even so, O Lord! The parent was not to love her child merely ; the child, the mother that bore him ; brother to love brother ; sister, sister; friend, friend; no, each was to love the other ; each, all ; and all, each. We were to be as brothers, indeed, as dear friends!
Yet, O God, just and merciful! Ye who pause with me a moment on this perishing earth, how have we sustained this commandment? Do we love the poor indeed, the outcast,
— for they too are brethren ? Is it to love when we suffer little children, scant of food, shelter, raiment, to herd shivering, wretched, on the highways and byeways of the world ? Is it love to tear each other with the iron implements of war to be as demons of destruction in place of messengers of peace, representatives of the infinite mercies of God ?
Does the inmate of yonder gaol know of love ; or he who expiates to-morrow a miserable career by a still more miserable close ? Does the harlot know of love — she, whose young existence is steeped in impurities, brutalities for which there is no name?
Brothers, there is not enough love. The mercies and charities of existence fall with unequal shower. Ah no, every child must be