When the time comes for leaving school, a crisis is reached, and it is sad to note how many boys and girls, but especially the former, are carried away by the brightness and interest of life when they go out into the world, and lose sight of their religion altogether. Needless to say, many of them fall into bad company, and their souls become in a state of grave peril. Various works have been set on foot at different times to retain our influence on our boys at this time of life—the institution of clubs, or boy scouts, or boys' brigades, or the like, with varying success. It is a time when the priest with all his solicitude is often powerless to do anything. On this we can quote the experience of Canon Oakeley writing half a century ago:—
"No complaint is more commonly heard among our clergy," he writes, "than that those who have been educated in our schools are lost to the Church by scores, if not by hundreds, as soon as the school time is over. This complaint I fear is but too well grounded, but I think that it suggests some important topics of self-examination to ourselves. Are we sufficiently careful to follow with our eye the children of both sexes who have ceased to come under daily observation by entering on the duties of their secular callings? This enquiry applies most forcibly to the young men of our flocks, who for many reasons are less likely to come under the protection of watchful guides than young persons of the other sex, and who are at the same time exposed to a more dangerous class of temptations."
And he gives his own experience as to a possible remedy:—
"The interest which both sexes alike demand at our hands consists not merely in using means to preserve them in the practice of their formal religious duties, but in keeping up their attachment to the Church to which they belong by engaging them in some practical form of connection with it, such as association with confraternities, or participation in offices or works of which it is the centre and spring. I have myself" (he adds) "witnessed in various ways and in more than one place the incalculable advantage of maintaining by some such definite and practical bond of union the tie between young persons, but especially young men, and their church. I have found that the privileges of the sanctuary or the choir have been prized as the most precious of distinctions, and that the Offices of the Church have proved successful rivals, not to say powerful antagonists, of the theatre or the music-hall. I have known young men who have been, to my undoubting belief, kept harmless amid the manifold temptations of the metropolis through influences directly received in, or by means of, the Catholic Church." [5]
In many cases where men have allowed their religion to lapse, the steadying influence required is happily supplied when the time comes for a man to marry and to devote himself to bringing up a Christian family. The wedding-day is a day of rejoicing; it is the priest's privilege to assist at the ceremony in church, and in many cases to join in the festivities afterwards. It is much to be regretted that the nuptial mass has almost died out with us—this being apparently in great part due to our Protestant surroundings; the two ostensible reasons being the custom of having the ceremony at a late hour, in order to enable people to come, and the wish for a short service so as not to overburden the non-Catholics present. It is the more to be regretted because it is such a beautiful service that if people were accustomed to seeing it, few Catholics would be content to omit it. However, taking the service as we find it, short though it is, it can be made very devotional [6] and joyful.
It has been said by some cynics that such joy is misplaced, and that if the young couple realised the anxieties and trials before them they would look on it as a day of sorrow rather than joy. Such remarks are surely out of keeping with the spirit of the followers of Him who assisted at the wedding feast in Cana, and worked His first miracle lest the rejoicings should be marred. In point of fact, marriage is a subject for joy as life is, with all its sufferings and anxieties, for it is the means of achieving a great and joyful work. If ever there is an occasion in life when people stand in need of the joyful sympathy of their friends, it is when they are beginning the main work of their lives. In later years, when storm and stress is on them, they will ever look back to their wedding-day for comfort and hope which will carry them through their trials. If God bless their union with children, the priest is at hand to minister to the mother in childbirth, to baptise the offspring, and to perform the solemn rite which is the mother's act of thanksgiving for successful childbirth.
Alas, however, many people lose sight of their religion after as before marriage, and their defection affects not only themselves, but their children. It destroys the character of the home, and is an injustice to those whom they have brought into the world. To them the solicitude of the priest will be continually applied. "I came not to call the just," said our Lord, "but sinners to penance";[7] and the priest's work in continually visiting his flock—house to house visiting, if circumstances permit—is chiefly directed towards rescuing those who have fallen away, or are in danger of doing so. The special efforts, the Lenten sermons and missions then or at other times, and the long hours spent in the Confessional are directed primarily towards getting back the sheep who have gone astray. No satisfaction of the priest can be compared with that when he brings back a lost sheep to the fold, and perhaps creates a holy home which but for his efforts would have been a home of perdition. If he has imitated the Curé d'Ars and done penance to himself in order to obtain such a conversion, the penance will appear to him small indeed compared with the blessings he has obtained.
The solicitude of a priest must not be limited to his own Catholic people. We have surely a mission to all, and we should try to reach all. "Other sheep I have," said our Lord, "that are not of the fold; them also I must bring, and they shall hear My voice, and there shall be one fold and one shepherd." [8] One learns by experience how little we have personally to do with making converts. "The Spirit breatheth where He will," and a new convert will come from some unexpected quarter as though dropping down from the skies. It is often assumed that the chief school which produces converts is the High Church party of the Church of England. This may be so sometimes; but in the small experience of the present writer, both in the four years spent on the mission and in granting faculties as Bishop, this has not been universally the case. He can recall receiving Low Churchmen, Dissenters, Quakers, or unbaptised persons with no religion at all, as frequently as those of the High Church. They come at all ages; and often without any very definite apparent reason. It has no doubt been a case of corresponding with the grace of God, and even when it was originally set in motion by something in one of our sermons, or when difficulties have been chased away in like manner, the priest feels clearly enough how little one has had personally to do with it, beyond being the representative of God. Nevertheless, it is one of the signs of God's blessing on our work, and if it is absent, and no converts are coming, we may well take it as a warning that we are not doing our work as well as we might.
This is not the place to write at length on the treatment of converts. Let it be sufficient to say that we should extend to these the very utmost charity and sympathy. We who were born Catholics can hardly realise the extraordinary mental anguish which some of them go through in their search after truth, and in confronting the call to break with the most sacred associations of their lives. Yet it is no charity to them to receive them when they are only partially instructed or when they have not really grasped the essentials of an act of faith. The modern discipline of requiring a faculty before receiving anyone into the Church is some check on this, but not a complete one. The judgment of the priest is practically always accepted and the instructions laid down are often curtailed.
When the convert has been prepared, the priest has to complete the work, and it is no small consolation both to him and to the convert. But after the seed is planted comes the time of growth, and the anxiety about the early Catholic life of his converts is not the least among the pastoral solicitudes of the priest. In their early days as Catholics they have a right to frequent visits from their father-in-God.