Letters to the Rt. Rev. John Hughes, Roman Catholic bishop of New-York

Letter VII

Reasons for not returning to the papal church — Prohibition of the Scriptures — The way and manner of papal worship — Ceremonial law •f popery — Obstructions raised between Cod and the soul . . 53

W CONTENTS.

LETTER VIII. \ Farther reasons for not returning to the papal chnrch — Celibacy of the clergy — Auricular confessions — A call on Irish papists to assert their rights «

Letter IX

Reasons which prevent from returning to the papal church, continued — Purgatory — Tran3ubstantiation 09

Letter XI

The effects of Popery on Liberty, Knowledge, Happiness, True ioligion 88

LETTER Xn.

Goaclusien of the whole matter VI

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

The pages that follow were written in the form of letters to Bishop Hughes, that they might readily gain the attention of those for whose benefit they are designed. The writer is a gentleman who has never taken any part in the Romish controversy, but having been educated in the Church of Rome, by parents of that faith, and having remained in that communion until mature years and patient thought enabled him to judge for himself, he became calmly but decidedly convinced that he must leave it, and seek the religion of the Bible among Protestants.

In these pages, the result of his own experience and observation, he gives the reasons that compelled him to abandon the church of his fathers, and the reasons why he cannot return to her embrace. The letters are written with great courtesy, frankness and ability, with the sprightly humour of an Irishman to an Irishman, and with an eloquence and earnestness that often remind us of some of the most celebrated passages from the Irish bar. They were 1*

6 INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

first published in the New-York Observer, and were thence widely copied into other papers. They have been extensively sought for by Catholics who are beginning to inquire after the truth, and by others who wish to put them into the hands of those who are willing to read.

The temper of the letters commends them to a candid perusal, and the clearness of the argument and illustration will carry conviction to the minds of those who have the independence to decide for themselves by the light of the Bible and common sense.

The letters were furnished to me under an injunction of secrecy as to the Author's name, and having been requested by many individuals and societies to give them to the public in a form for preservation and further circulation, it is proper to say that the writer's character is an abundant guarantee for the fidelity of all the matters of fact here stated, and that he is prepared to maintain them if they should ever be called in question.

SAMUEL I. PRIME.

TO THE

RIGHT REV. JOHN HUGHES,

BISHOP OF NEW YORK.

Letter I

My dear Sir, — Although an entire stranger to you, I have felt for many years greatly interested in your history and doings ; and for the following reasons :

You are the chief pastor of a very important portion of the Roman Catholic Church in this country; and your ecclesiastical position makes you emphatically a public man. If a bishop in Mexico or Missouri, like many mitred priests, you might live unknown to fame ; but as the papal bishop of the Commercial Metropolis of the Western world, and of the most populous and wealthy diocese of your church in the United States, tins could not be expected. Position, you know, has much to do with our public character.

But in addition to your position, which is one of high influence, you possess the requisite qualifications to fill it. This is confessed by your most ardent opponents. By your genius, learning, and eloquence — by your sleepless devotion to the duties of your calling, you have obtained a position in the very first rank of the ecclesiastics of your church.

Besides, at whatever odds, you have fought like a man with all your opponents. In controversies religious and political, you have not shunned the hall of debate, nor discussion through the press. You have taken your positions adroitly, and you have defended them with remarkable skill. And even when convinced of the utter fallacy of your positions and defences, I have yet sympathized with your manly firmness. It is in human nature to respect the man that with an earnest soul contends for what he esteems right. .And I must confess that as to some things, when the public voice was against you, your course met with my approbation.

Besides, if public rumour is worthy of belief, you have forced yourself into your present position by the force of your talents and character, from a social position comparatively humble. To me this is not the least of the reasons why X have felt interested in your career. The men of our race have been what is commonly called, self-made men. The heroes in history have been nearly all such. It requires high attributes both of mind and soul to rise above the disadvantages of family and fortune ; and to take precedence of those who would fain believe that birth and wealth give a patent-right to the high places of influence. Your past history, unless I misunderstand it, must have had a liberalizing influence upon you. You must look at things on a larger and wider scale, and through a clearer medium, than if you had been cradled in crimson, and educated in a convent. You know the distinction between prejudice and principle — between what is entitled to belief, and what we have been educated to believe — between what is truly reasonable, and what is only ecclesiastically so. And I therefore address myself to you with a confidence far stronger that what I shall say kindly and truly, will be kindly and truly weighed, than if I addressed myself to a priest from Maynooth or St. Omers, educated merely in the literature of legends and liturgies, and whose mind only possessed what was distilled into it from others. I shall address you not merely as a priest or bishop; but as a high-minded and well-educated gentleman.

Permit me to say that there is yet another reason why 1 have felt interested in your career. You were born in Ireland, that land of noble spirits and of warm hearts — that sweetest isle of the ocean. And so was I. We are natives of the same soil. And although in principle, by education, and in all my feelings, thoroughly American, yet I take a great pride in the high achievements of native Irishmen. America has had its Montgomerys, its Clintons, its Emmetts, its Porters, from Ireland. Its sons have adorned the bar, the bench, the pulpit, the army, the navy, the legislatures, the Congress of these United States. That there are multitudes from Ireland who are no loss to their own country, nor any advantage to this, cannot be denied. The reasons for this I may examine hereafter. But yet we have many fine illustrations of Irish genius, character and valour, all along our history. And I have regarded yourself as one of them, so far forth as, genius and force of character are concerned. And I have often pointed you out as an illustration of the high respectability which Irish character is capable of attaining when relieved from the burdens that oppress and debase it. Hence I have regarded as your eulogy the sneers of those who have addressed you as " John Hughes the Gardener.'"' Such taunts come not from true men.

Having said so much in reference to you, permit me now to say a word in reference to myself. I have just stated that I was born in Ireland. I may say to you in addition, that I was born of Roman Catholic parents, and received my early education in the full faith of that church at whose altars you now serve with such distinguished ability. I was baptized by a priest — I was confirmed by a bishop — I often went to confession — I have worn my amulets, — and I have said my Pater Nosters and my Hail Marys, more times than I can now enumerate. When a youth none excelled me in my attention to Mass, nor in the performance of the penances enjoined by the Father confessor. And whatever were my occasional mental misgivings, I remained a true son of the church until I had nearly reached the years of manhood. Then, on as full an examination of the subject as I could give it, I came to the conclusion that I could not remain a Roman Catholic. I first became an infidel. Knowing nothing of religion but that which was taught me by parents and priests, and thinking that that was the sum of it, when that was rejected, infidelity became my only alternative. Subsequently, by the reading of the Bible, and by the grace of God, I was led to embrace the religion of the Gospel. That religion I have now for many years professed, and in connection with a Protestant church. Unlike many who have left your communion, I have never bitterly assailed it. I am utterly unknown in the list of the champions of Protestantism versus Popery. But yet some recent occurrences have induced me to break a long silence, and to state in a series of letters addressed to your Right Reverence, the reasons which induced me to leave the Roman Catholic Church, and which prevent me from returning to it. Of these letters, this is the first. I ask of you for them a kind and candid perusal.

KlRWAW.

Letter II

Causes of early misgivings— Priestly miracles— Purgatory— Praying to saints.

My dear Sir, — In my last letter I stated to you that I was born of Roman Catholic parents — that I was baptized and confimed in your communion — and that for many years I have been in connection with a Protestant church. I stated that, whatever were my occasional mental misgivings, I remained a true son of the church until I had nearly attained the years of manhood ; and that, then, on as full an examination of the subject as I could give it, I came to the conclusion that I could not remain a Roman Catholic. Permit me in the present letter to state to you the causes of my early misgivings as to yours being a true church, and as to its holding the true faith.

You know very well the common belief among the Irish peasantry that Papal priests can work mira* cles. Whatever may be the teaching of the prieste themselves upon the point, such is the belief of the people, a belief strongly encouraged by the conduct of their spiritual leaders. Hence in diseases, the people resort, not so much to the physician, as to the priest — they depend less upon the power of medicine than upon that of priestly charms. Although the son of intelligent parents, and educated from my youth for the mercantile profession, the miraculous power of the priest is yet associated with my earliest recollections of him. And, as you know full well, the belief that this power is possessed by their priests, is one of the leading causes why the Papal Irish bow with such entire and unmanly submission to liem.

In my youth there were two things which greatly shook my faith in the possession of this power. There resided not far from my parental residence a priest, whose fame as a miracle- worker was known all over the county in which he resided. The road to his house (called in that country a bridle road) went by our door. I frequently saw, in the morning, individuals riding by, with a little keg resting before them on the saddle, or a jug hanging by the horse's side. I often asked who they were, and where they were going ? I was told that they were going to Father C.'s to get some of their sick cured. I asked what was in the keg, or jug ? I was told that it was Irish whiskey to pay the priest for his cures. I asked why they went so early in the morning ? I was answered that unless they went early they would not find him sober.

In one of the large interior towns of Ireland where I resided, the bishop of the diocese met his priests, or a part of them, once a year. This meeting was always held in the house where I resided, and over the store in which I was then a clerk. Among the priests that always met the Bishop was a Father B., whose fame as a miraclo-worker was extensive. He had also a reputation for learning and eloquence ;

14 mbwan's letters

and because of his connection with an old and wealthy family, exerted a wide social influence. He always staid with us when he came to town. About ten o'clock one night, after one of those meetings of bishop and priests, I went out to shut up the store windows ; and hearing a singular noise in the gutter, I went forward, and assisted a man out of the mire. I soon recognized it to be Father B. the miracle worker. Running in, I announced with some excitement to the lady of the house that Father B. was drunk in the street. I received for my pains a stunning slap on the side of the face, with this admonition, " never say again that a priest is drunk." I staggered under the blow, — I assisted in cleaning off his Reverence. I gave him his brandy next morning. And young as I was, my faith in miracleworking priests was effectually shaken. Although fearing to draw the conclusion, I felt it, that God would not bestow miraculous power upon those who lived a life, not of occasional, but of habitual intemperance. And I would ask you, sir, whether all this pretension to miraculous power by your priests is not a gross imposition upon the people for the double purpose of keeping them in awe, and getting their money ? Let the Bishop be silent, and the man of sense speak, and I have no fear as to the answer.

The doctrine of Purgatory, you know, sir, is one* of the peculiar and most cherished doctrines of your church. Indeed I do not know how your church could get along without it. My object now is not to reason with you about it, nor to controvert it ; but to state to you a few facts in reference to it that made, ir early life, a strong impression on my mind. You know that, in Ireland, the custom of the priest is, at a certain point in the service of the mass, to turn his back to the altar, and his face to the people, and to read a long list of the names of deceased persons whose souls are in purgatory, and to offer up a prayer for their deliverance from it. This is done, or used to be done, in the chapels on every Sabbath. To obtain the name of a deceased relative on that magic list, the priest must be paid so much a year, varying, I believe, with the ability of the friends to pay. If the yearly payment is not made when due, the name of the person is erased from the list. A circumstance arising out of this custom of your church, occurring in my boyhood, is distinctly before me. A respectable man in our parish died in mid-life, leaving a widow and a large family of children to mourn his loss. True to her religious principles, and to her generous instincts, the widow had her husband's name placed on that list, and heard, with pious gratitude, his name read over from Sabbath to Sabbath, with a prayer offered for the deliverance of his soul from purgatory. After the lapse of two or three years, on a certain Sabbath, the name of her husband was omitted from the list. The fact filled her with mingled joy and fear; joy, thinking that her husband had escaped

16 kiihvan's letters

from purgatory ; and fear, lest she had done something to offend the priest. On timid inquiry, she learned that his soul was yet in purgatory, but that she had forgotten to send in the yearly tax at the time it was due. The tax was promptly paid, and the name was restored on the next Sabbath. With this fact, sir, I am entirely conversant; for that widow was my own mother, who sought the release of the soul of my father from purgatory. Can you wonder, sir, that this incident made a deep impression upon my youthful mind, or that it shook my faith in your whole system 1 And, as far as memory serves me, Father M. was an amiable man, and above the ordinary level of the men of his calling. Another fact which early impressed me in refer ence to purgatory was this. Your church makes a distinction between mortal and venial sinners. Tb* former go to hell for ever — the latter go to purgatory, " whence they are taken by the prayers and alms offered for them, and principally by the holy sacrifice of the mass." Now I always saw that the most mortal sinners, that every body would say went to hell, could always have masses said for them as if they went to purgatory ; provided their friends could pay ; and iimt.less mortal sinners, that people would say went to purgatory, were sent to hell, if their friends could not pay for masses for them. And their souls were kept in purgatory for a long while when their friends paid promptly every year ; but their souls were soon prayed out whose friends

.

could not pay long for them. Facts like these, sir, very early impressed my mind, and shook my faith in the religion of my parents and priests. And when, in maturer years, I could more fully consider them, they led me to reject religion as a fable cunningly devised by priests.

Again ; to pray to angels and saints is a doctrine of your church. I am quite familiar with your explanations of it ; with the distinctions which your writers make to free it from idolatry. It is precisely the distinction which the heathen make to get rid of the same charge. Perhaps ere these letters are concluded I may return to this subject; I have only to do now with some of my early impressions in reference to it. In our parish chapel there were a great many pictures of saints. W hose pictures they were I do not remember. But on Sabbath morning, an hour before mass, I have often seen the poor people, and even some more wealthy and refined, going on their knees from the one picture to the other, and counting their beads, and bowing before them with external acts of the most profound and sincere worship. Although, then, I thought differently, I have ciot now a doubt but that it was idolatry. But the idea that struck me was this : here are some praying to Peter, or Paul, or John ; the same pictures *re hung up in ten thousand chapels all over the world, and in all these chapels persons are praying to thdffiL Can these good saints hear but in one p 1 * »', or can they hear all ? If they can hear all, 2*

18 kerwan's letters.

then they are omnipresent, — if omnipresent, they are gods. Thus we have as many gods as saints. But if they hear but in one place, then nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine out of the ten thousand are praying to an absent saint ! This one thought, reverend sir, very early in life impressed my mind, and was not the least powerful among the causes which led me, eventually, to reject the authority of your church. More of these causes in my next.

Kirwan.

Letter III

Causes of early misgivings, continued — Confession — Holy wells — Prohibiting the Bible — An incident.

My dear Sir, — In my last letter I commenced a statement to you of the causes which, in early life, caused my misgivings and distrust as to yours being a true church, and as to its holding the true faith. I referred to some incidents connected with the claims of your priests to miraculous power, with the doctrine of purgatory, and with praying to the saints. I shall now proceed with a statement of some more of those causes.

The doctrine of Confession is one of the primary doctrines of your church. It requires every good papist to confess his sins to a priest at least once a year. If any sins are concealed, none are forgiven. This doctrine makes the bosom of the priest the repository of all the sins of all the sinners of his parish, who make a conscience of Confession. And this is one of the sources of the fearful power which your priests have over your people. And with this doctrine of Confession, is connected the power of the Father Confessor to grant Absolution to the confessing penitent. It is sometimes affirmed, and then denied, to suit circumstances, that the priest claims such power. But Dr. Challoner in his " Catholic Christian Instructed,' 5 Chap. 9th, asserts this power, and on what he deems scriptural authority. And I never knew an individual who came from Confession, with the privilege of partaking of the Communion, who did not feel and believe that his sins were forgiven him. And if they were not immediately forgiven, they would be on the performance of the prescribed penances. You, sir, will not say, that I either misstate or misrepresent the doctrine.

Now for some of my early impressions upon this subject. Father M. held frequently his confessions at our house. He sat in a dark room up stairs with one or more candles on a table before him. Those going to Confession followed each other on their knees from the front door, through the hall, up the stairs, and to the door of the room. When one

20 kihwan's letters

came out of the confessing-room another entered. My turn came — I entered the room, from which the light of day was excluded, and bowed myself before the priest. He made over me the sign of the cross, and after saying something in Latin, he ordered me to commence the detail of my sins. Sucn was my fright that my memory soon failed in bringing up past delinquencies. He would prompt me, and ask, did you do this thing, or that thing ? I would answer yes, or no. And when I could say no more he would wave his hand over me and again utter some words in Latin, and dismiss me. Through this process I often went, and never without feeling that my sins were forgiven. Sins that burdened me before, were now disregarded. The load of guilt was gone. And I often felt, when prompted to sin, that I could commit it with impunity, as I could soon confess it and secure its pardon. And this, sir, is the fearful and fatal effect of your doctrine of Confession and Absolution upon millions of minds.

The questions however often came up — Why does the priest go into a dark room in the daytime ? Why not speak to me in English, and not in Latin ? How can he forgive sin ? What, if my sins, after all, are not forgiven ? And I always found that I could play my pranks better after confession than before, for I could go at them with a lighter heart. Very early in life my confidence in this doctrine of Confession was shaken ; and at a later period I came to the conclusion that it was a priestly device to ensnare the conscience, and to enslave men.

Another thing which made early a deep impression on my mind was this. On my first remembered journey to Dublin we passed by a place, called, unless I mistake, St. John's Well. It is, as you know, one of the " Holy Wells,' 5 of Ireland. There was a vast crowd of poor-looking and diseased people around it. Some were praying, some shouting; many were up in the trees which surrounded it. All these trees were laden, in all their branches, with shreds of cloth of every possible variety and colour. I inquired what all this meant. I was told : " This is St. John's Well, and these people come here to get cured." But what do those rags mean, hanging on the trees ? I was told, that the people who were not immediately cured, tied a piece of their garments on some limb of the trees, to keep the good Saint of the Well in mind of their application. And judging from the number of pieces tied on the trees, I inferred that the number that went away cured were very few. I had previously read some travels in Africa describing some of the religious rites of the sable sons of that continent ; and the thought that those performed around St. John's Well were just like them, occurred to me. I have no doubt but that the rites witnessed in my youth are performed there yet — that the ragq of diseased persons are now streaming from those trees to remind the Saint of the requests of those who suspended them. There was always a priest present to hear confessions, and to receive the pennies of the poor pilgrims. And the impression then made upon my mind was, that it was a piece of paganism. And the rites and ceremonies about this Well, I learn, are nothing in comparison with those performed at the Wells of Saint Patrick in the County Down. I will here insert an account of a festival at St. Patrick's Well as given by an eyewitness.

" When or how the custom which I shall describe originated, I know not, nor is it necessary to inquire ; but every midsummer eve thousands of Roman Catholics, many from distant parts of the country, resort to These celebrated holy wells to cleanse their souls from sin, and clear their mortal bodies of diseases. The influx of people of different ranks, for some nights before the one in which alone, during the whole year, these wells possess this power (for on all other days and nights in the year they rank not above common draw-wells), is prodigious : and their attendants, hordes of beggars, whose ragged garments, if once taken off, could not be put on again by the ingenuity of man, infest the streets and lanes, and choose their lodgings in the highways and hedges. Having been previously informed of the approach of this miraculous night, and having made ourselves acquainted with the locality of the wells, early in the evening we repaired to the spot : we had been told that we should see something quite new to us, and we met with what scarcely was credible on ocular evidence. The spot on which this scene of superstitious folly was exhibited, was admirably adapted to heighten every attendant circumstance of it ; the wonderful wells, of which there are four, being situated in a square or patch of ground, surrounded by steep rocks, which reverberated every sound, and redoubled all the confusion. The coup d'osil of the square on our approach presented a floating mass of various coloured heads, and our ears were astonished with confused and mingled sounds of mirth and sorrow, of frantic, enthusiastic joy, and deep desponding ravings. On descending into the square we found ourselves immediately in the midst of innumerable groups of these fanatics, running in all directions, confusedly, in appearance, but methodically, as we afterwards found in reality ; — the men and the women were barefooted, and the heads of all were bound round with handkerchiefs. Some were running in circles, some were kneeling in groups, some were singing in wild concert, some were jumping about like maniacs at the end of an old building, which, we were told, was the ruins of a chapel erected, with several adjacent buildings, in one miraculous midsummer's night by the tutelary saint of the wells, of whose talent as a mason they give, it must be confessed, no very exalted opinion. When we had somewhat recovered from the first surprise which the (to us) unaccountably fantastic actions of the crowd had given us, we endeavoured to trace the progress of some of these deluded votaries through all the mazes of their mystic penance. The first object of them all appeared to be the ascent of the steepest and most rugged part of the rock, up which both men and women crawled their painful way on their hands and bare knees. The men's clothes were all made so as to accommodate their

24 KIRWAN 8 LETTERS

knees with all the sharpness of the pointed rock ; and the poor women, many of them young and beautiful, took incredible pains to prevent their petticoats from affording any defence against its torturing asperities. Covered with dust and perspiration, and blood, they at last reached the summit of the rock where, in a rude sort of chair hewn out of the stone sat an old man, probably one of their priesthood, who seemed to be the representative of St. Patrick, and the high-priest of this religious frenzy. In his hat each of the penitents deposited a half-penny, after which he turned them round a certain number of times, listened to the long catalogue of their offences, ana dictated to them the penance they were to undergo or perform. Then they descended the rock by another path, but in the same manner and posture, equally careful to be cut by the flints, and to suffer as much as possible : this w r as, perhaps, more painful travelling than the ascent had been — the suffering knees were rubbed another way — every step threatened a tumble ; and if any thing could have been lively there, the ridiculous attitudes of these descenders would have made us so. When they gained the foot of the hill they (most of them) bestowed a small donation of charity on some miserable groups of supplicants who were stationed there. One beggar, a cripple, sat on the ground, at one moment addressing the crowd behind him, and swearing that all the Protestants ought to be burnt out of the country, and, in the same breath, begging the penitents to give him one half-penny for the love of 6 swate blessed Jasus. 9 The penitents now returned to the use of their feet, and commenced a running sort of Irish jiggish walk round several cairns or heaps of stones erected at different spaces :