the Pope's agent, as uttered by him in the _Loyal National Repeal
Association_ in Dublin, Ireland. It is addressed to Irish Catholics in
the United States. _Where you have the electoral franchise, give your
votes to none but those who will assist you in so holy a struggle. You
should do all in your power to carry out the pious intentions of his
holiness the Pope_. This is plain language; there is no misunderstanding
it. It is ad-dressed to Papists, whether in Oregon or the United States,
and what are the pious intentions of the Pope? I will tell you. I
understand those matters probably better than you do. The object is,
in the first place, to _extirpate Protestantism_; and, secondly, _to
overthrow this republican government, and place in our executive chair
a Popish king_. This is the sole design of all the ramifications of the
various repeal clubs throughout the length and breadth of the United
States and its territories. O'Connell--the greatest layman living--is
the nuncio of the Pope for carrying this vast and holy design into
execution. Will Americans submit to this? Will they again attend repeal
associations? Does not every meeting of the repeal party impliedly
make an assault upon our constitution? Is not this foreign demagogue
endeavoring to pollute our ballot-box? and will you any longer trust
an Irish Papist, who is the fettered slave of the Pope? Aye! a greater
slave than the African, the Mussulman, or the Chinese. Never before was
there such a combination formed for the destruction of American liberty,
as that of _Irish repealers_, and never before was such an insidious
attempt made to pollute the morals of the wives and daughters of
Americans, as that which Jesuits have for years made, and are now
making, by the introduction of priests and nunneries among them.
Repeal unchains the loud blasts of conspiracy, and opens the bloody
gates of sedition; yet this Repeal lives in the very midst of us. I
can almost hear, while I am writing these lines, the wild shouts of its
lawless members; and to the shame and everlasting disgrace of Americans,
the sons of free and noble sires, there are many of them, at the very
repeal meetings to which I allude, aiding and abetting them in aiming
their mad and wild blows at liberty, while she sleeps sweetly, perhaps
dreaming that she was safe, with the spirits of Washington, Warren,
and others, watching over her slumbers. Sleep on, fair goddess! Popish
traitors cannot, shall not disturb thee. American Republicans will not
let them; and to you, Protestant foreigners, I would most earnestly
appeal. Let us stand by those noble patriots. We know what tyranny is!
We felt many of its pains and penalties. We know what Popery is! It has
desolated our native land 1 It has made barren our fairest fields! It
has sealed up from our parents, our brothers, sisters, and relatives,
the eternal fountain of life! It is drunk with the blood of the saints!
It has closed against us the gates of liberty! It has rendered us
strangers to its blessings, and it was not until we landed upon these
shores, that we were first permitted to inhale its fragrance or taste
its fruits. But now that we enjoy all these blessings, let us thank God
for them. Let us be grateful to Americans for receiving us among
them, and prove by our deeds that we are not unworthy of the kind and
hospitable reception which they gave us, by being foremost amongst them
in resisting and warding off the blows which that enemy of mankind,
the Pope, and his foul-mouthed nuncio, Daniel O'Connell, with his Irish
repealers, are striking at American freedom! They shall not succeed. The
slaves of a Pope cannot succeed.
"The sensual and the dark rebel in vain,
Slaves by their own compulsion!
In mad game They burst their manacles, and wear the name
Of freedom, graven on a heavier chain
O Liberty! with profitless endeavor
Have I pursued thee many a weary hour;--
But thou nor swell'st the victor's strain, nor ever
Didst breathe thy soul in forms of human power.
Alike from all, howe'er they praise thee--
Nor prayer, nor boastful name delays thee--
Alike from priestcraft's harpy minions,
And factious blasphemy's obscener slaves,
Thou speedest on thy subtle pinions,
The guide of horseless winds, and playmate of the waves!
And there I felt thee!--on that sea-cliffs verge,
Whose pines, scarce travelled by the breeze above,
Had made one murmur with the distant surge;--
Yea, while I stood and gazed, my temples bare,
And shot ray being through earth, sea, and air,
Possessing all things with intensest love,
O Liberty! my spirit felt thee there!"
End of Project Gutenberg's Popery! As it Was and as it Is, by William Hogan