Father John O'Shaughnessy.
To morrow will be Sabbath day, said the Clockmaker; I
guess we'll bide where we be till Monday. I like a Sabbath
in the country--all natur seems at rest. There's a
cheerfulness in the day here, you don't find in towns.
You have natur before you here, and nothin but art there.
The deathy stillness of a town, and the barred windows,
and shut shops, and empty streets, and great long lines
of big brick buildins, look melancholy. It seems as if
life had ceased tickin, but there had'nt been time for
decay to take hold on there; as if day had broke, but
man slept. I can't describe exactly what I mean, but I
always feel kinder gloomy and whamblecropt there. Now in
the country its jist what it ought to be--a day of rest
for man and beast from labor. When a man rises on the
Sabbath, and looks out on the sunny fields and wavin
crops, his heart feels proper grateful, and he says,
come, this is a splendid day, aint it? let's get ready
and put on our bettermost close, and go to meetin. His
first thought is prayerfully to render thanks; and then
when he goes to worship he meets all his neighbors, and
he knows them all, and they are glad to see each other,
and if any two on 'em hant exactly gee'd together durin
the week, why they meet on kind of neutral ground, and
the minister or neighbours make peace atween them. But
it tante so in towns. You don't know no one you meet
there. Its the worship of neighbors, but its the worship
of strangers, too, for neighbors don't know nor care
about each other. Yes, I love a Sabbath in the country.
While uttering this soliloquy, he took up a pamphlet from
the table, and turning to the title page, said, have you
ever seen this here book on the "Elder Controversy."
[Footnote: A Controversy on the subject of Infant Baptism.]
This author's friends say its a clincher; they say he
has sealed up Elder's mouth as tight as a bottle. No,
said I, I have not; I have heard of it, but never read
it. In my opinion the subject has been exhausted already,
and admits of nothing new bein said upon it. These
religious controversies are a serious injury to the cause
of true religion; they are deeply deplored by the good
and moderate men of all parties. It has already embraced
several denominations in the dispute in this Province,
and I hear the agitation has extended to New Brunswick,
where it will doubtless be renewed with equal zeal. I am
told all the pamphlets are exceptionable in point of
temper, and this one in particular, which not only ascribes
the most unworthy motives to its antagonist, but contains
some very unjustifiable and gratuitous attacks, upon
other sects unconnected with the dispute. The author has
injured his own cause, for an INTEMPERATE ADVOCATE IS
MORE DANGEROUS THAN AN OPEN FOE. There is no doubt on
it, said the Clockmaker, it is as clear as mud, and you
are not the only one that thinks so, I tell you. About
the hottest time of the dispute, I was to Halifax, and
who should I meet but Father John O'Shaughnessy, a Catholic
Priest. I had met him afore in Cape Breton, and had sold
him a clock. Well, he was a leggin it off hot foot.
Possible! says I, Father John, is that you? Why, what on
airth is the matter of you--what makes you in such an
everlastin hurry, driven away like one ravin distracted
mad? A sick visit, says he; poor Pat Lanigan, him that
you mind to Bradore Lake, well he's near about at the
pint of death. I guess not, said I, for I jist heerd tell
he was dead. Well, that brought him up all standin, and
he bouts ship in a jiffy, and walks a little way with
me, and we got a talkin about this very subject. Says
he, what are you, Mr. Slick? Well, I looks up to him and
winks, a Clockmaker, says I; well he smiled, and says
he, I see; as much as to say I had'nt ought to have axed
that are question at all, I guess, for every man's religion
is his own, and nobody else's business. Then, says he,
you know all about this country, who do folks say has
the best of the dispute. Says I, Father John, its like
the battles up to Canada lines last war, each side claims
victory; I guess there aint much to brag on nary way,
damage done on both sides, and nothin gained, as far as
I can learn. He stopt short, and looked me in the face,
and says he, Mr. Slick you are a man that has seed a good
deal of the world, and a considerable of an understandin
man, and I guess I CAN talk to YOU. Now, says he, for
gracious sake do jist look here, and see how you heretics
(protestants I mean, says he, for I guess that are word
slipt out without leave,) are by the ears, a driven away
at each other, the whole blessed time tooth and nail,
hip and thigh, hammer and tongs, disputin, revilin,
wranglin, and beloutin each other, with all sorts of ugly
names that they can lay their tongues to. Is that the
way you love your neighbor as yourself? WE SAY THIS IS
A PRACTICAL COMMENT ON SCHISM, and by the powers of Moll
Kelly, said he, but they all ought to be well lambasted
together, the whole batch on 'em entirely. Says I, Father
John, give me your hand; there are some things, I guess,
you and I don't agree on, and most likely never will,
seein that you are a Popish priest; but in that idee I
do opinionate with you, and I wish with all my heart all
the world thought with us. I guess he didn't half like
that are word Popish priest; it seemed to grig him like;
his face looked kinder' ryled, like well water arter a
heavy rain; and said he, Mr. Slick, says he, your country
is a free country, aint it? The freest, says I, on the
face of the airth--you can't "ditto" it nowhere. We are
as free as the air, and when our dander's up, stronger
than any hurricane you ever seed--tear up all creation
most; there aint the beat of it to be found any where.
Do you call this a free country? said he. Pretty
considerable middlin, says I, seein that they are under
a king. Well, says he, if you were seen in Connecticut
a shakin hands along with a Popish priest, as you are
pleased to call me, (and he made me a bow, as much as to
say mind your trumps the next deal) as you now are in
the streets of Halifax along with me, with all your
crackin and boastin of your freedom, I guess you wouldn't
sell a clock agin in that State for one while, I tell
you, and he bid me good mornin and turned away. Father
John! says I. I can't stop, says he; I must see that poor
critter's family; they must be in great trouble, and a
sick visit is afore controvarsy in my creed. Well, says
I, one word with you afore you go; if that are name Popish
priest was an ongenteel one, I ax your pardon; I didn't
mean no offence, I do assure you, and I'll say this for
your satisfaction, tu, you're the first man in this
Province that ever gave me a real right down complete
checkmate since I first sot foot in it, I'll be skinned
if you aint. Yes, said Mr. Slick, Father John was right;
these antagonizing chaps ought to be well quilted, the
whole raft of 'em. It fairly makes me sick to see the
folks, each on 'em a backin up of their own man. At it
agin, says one; fair play, says another; stick it into
him, says a third; and that's your sort, says a fourth.
Them are the folks who do mischief. They show such clear
grit it fairly frightens me. It makes my hair stand right
up an eend to see ministers do that are. IT APPEARS TO
ME THAT I COULD WRITE A BOOK IN FAVOR OF MYSELF AND MY
NOTIONS WITHOUT WRITIN AGIN ANY ONE, AND IF I COULDN'T
I WOULDN'T WRITE AT ALL, I SNORE. Our old minister, Mr.
Hopewell, (a real good man, and a larned man too that,)
they sent to him once to write agin the Unitarians, for
they are a goin ahead like statiee in New England, but
he refused. Said he, Sam, says he, when I first went to
Cambridge, there was a boxer and wrastler came there,
and he beat every one wherever he went. Well, old Mr.
Possit was the Church of England parson at Charlestown,
at the time, and a terrible powerful man he was--a real
sneezer, and as ACTIVE as a weasel. Well, the boxer met
him one day, a little way out of town, a takin of his
evenin walk, and said he, Parson, says he, they say you
are a most a plaguy strong man and uncommon stiff too.
Now, says he, I never seed a man yet that was a match
for me; would you have any objection jist to let me be
availed of your strength here in a friendly way, by
ourselves, where no soul would be the wiser; if you will
I'll keep dark about it, I swan. Go your way, said the
Parson, and tempt me not; you are a carnal minded wicked
man, and I take no pleasure in such vain idle sports.
Very well, said the boxer; now here I stand, says he, in
the path, right slap afore you; if you pass round me,
then I take it as a sign that you are afeard on me, and
if you keep the path, why then you must first put me
out--that's a fact. The Parson jist made a spring forrard,
and kitched him up as quick as wink, and throwed him
right over the fence whap on the broad of his back, and
then walked on as if nothin had happened--as demure as
you please, and lookin as meek as if butter would'nt melt
in his mouth. Stop, said the boxer, as soon as he picked
himself up, stop Parson, said he, that's a good man, and
jist chuck over my horse too, will you, for I swan I
believe you could do one near about as easy as tother.
My! said he, if that don't bang the bush; you are another
guess chap from what I took you to be, any how. Now, said
Mr. Hopewell, says he, I won't write, but if are a
Unitarian crosses my path, I'll jist over the fence with
him in no time, as the parson did the boxer; FOR WRITIN
ONLY AGGRAVATES YOUR OPPONENTS, AND NEVER CONVINCES THEM.
I NEVER SEED A CONVERT MADE BY THAT WAY YET, BUT I'LL
TELL YOU WHAT I HAVE SEED, A MAN SET HIS OWN FLOCK A
DOUBTIN BY HIS OWN WRITIN. YOU MAY HAPPIFY YOUR ENEMIES,
CANTANKERATE YOUR OPPONENTS, AND, INJURE YOUR OWN CAUSE
BY IT, BUT I DEFY YOU TO SARVE IT. These writers, said
he, put me in mind of that are boxer's pupils. He would
sometimes set two on 'em to spar; well, they'd put on
their gloves and begin, larfin and jokin all in good
humor. Presently one on 'em would put in a pretty hard
blow; well, tother would return it in airnest. Oh, says
the other, if that's your play, off gloves and at it;
and sure enough, away would fly their gloves, and at it
they'd go tooth and nail.
No, Sam, the misfortin is, we are all apt to think Scriptur
intended for our neighbors, and not for ourselves. The
poor all think it made for the rich. Look at that are
Dives, they say, what an all fired scrape he got into by
his avarice, with Lazarus; and aint it writ as plain as
any thing, that them folks will find it as easy to go to
heaven, as for a camel to go through the eye of a needle.
Well, then, the rich think it all made for the poor--that
they sharnt steal nor bear false witness, but shall be
obedient to them that's in authority. And as for them
are Unitarians, and he always got his dander up when he
spoke of them, why there's no doin nothin with them, says
he. When they get fairly stumped, and you produce a text
that they can't get over, nor get round, why they say it
tante in our varsion at all--that's an interpolation,
its an invention of them are everlastin monks; there's
nothin left for you to do with them, but to sarve them
as Parson Possit detailed the boxer--lay right hold of
'em, and chuck 'em over the fence, even if they were as
big as all out doors. That's what our folks ought to
have done with 'em at first, pitched 'em clean out of
the state, and let 'em go down to Nova-Scotia, or some
such outlandish place, for they aint fit to live in no
christian country at all.
Fightin is no way to make converts; THE TRUE WAY IS TO
WIN 'EM. You may stop a man's mouth, Sam, says he, by a
crammin a book down his throat, but you won't convince
him. Its a fine thing to write a book all covered over
with Latin, and Greek, and Hebrew, like a bridle that's
real jam, all spangled with brass nails, but who knows
whether its right or wrong? why not one in ten thousand.
If I had my religion to choose, and warn't able to judge
for myself I'll tell you what I'd do: I'd just ask myself
WHO LEADS THE BEST LIVES? Now, says he, Sam, I won't say
who do, because it would look like vanity to say it was
the folks who hold to our platform, but I'll tell you
who don't. IT AINT THEM THAT MAKES THE GREATEST PROFESSIONS
ALWAYS; and mind what I tell you, Sam, when you go a
tradin with your clocks away down east to Nova-Scotia,
and them wild provinces, keep a bright look out on them
as cant too much, FOR A LONG FACE is plaguy apt to COVER
A LONG CONSCIENCE--that's a fact.