After carefully finding out what my religious opinions are, she informs
me of evangelistic services that are held in a tent at the foot of the
hill on which Clones sits. These services are not, she says, in
connection with the "Hallelujahs" or the "Salvations," but are
authorized by the Government, and are under the wing of the Episcopal
Church. Of course tent services under the wing of the Episcopal Church
are worth going to, so we attend.
The service is quite as evangelical as if it were preached by
"Hallelujahs." There is a very large audience, and the people seem very
attentive. My hostess is much affected. She tells me that if she can
work hard and manage well and be content with her station, reverencing
her betters as she ought to do, she hopes to get to heaven at last.
Almost in the same breath she informs me that all the people of Mayo
will go to hell, if any one goes, for that is their _desarvings_.
Yes. The Mayo people are sure to be damned. "God forgive me for saying
so," adds my hostess, as a saving clause. I am afraid the evangelistic
services have failed as yet as far as my hostess is concerned; and Mayo,
beautiful and desolate Mayo, may be glad that the keys of that
inconveniently warm climate are not kept by a Clones woman whom I know.
There are few who have not something to be proud of. My woman of Clones
is proud of the fact that she entertained and lodged for a night the
potato pilgrims - thirty-five of them - who went to Captain Boycott's
relief down to Lough Mask. After she had mentioned this circumstance a
few times, and did seem to take much spiritual comfort from the face, I
ventured to inquire if she were paid for it. Oh, yes, she was; but if
she had not been - she was all on the right side, she was that; and if
she had the power would sweep every Papist off the face of the earth.
She was wicked, she said, on this subject.
I did not believe this woman; her talk was mere party blow. The whole
street about her was full of Papists, small and great. I do not think
she would sweep the smallest child off the face of the earth, except by
a figure of speech. There are those who really know what language means
who are responsible for this bloodthirsty kind of talk. It means little,
but it keeps up party spirit.
I thought of speeches which I heard on the 12th of July by ministers of
the Gospel, with all the Scripture quotations from Judges, and Samuel,
telling an inflamable people - only they were too busy with their drums
and fifes to listen - that "God took the side of fighting men - Gideon
meant battle - an angel was at the head of the Lord's host - Scotland was
especially blest because it was composed of fighting men." Does the
Gospel mean brother to war against brother for the possession of his
field?
