After the arrival in the city of the wearied missionary, his first visit was to the scene of his late visit to the dying widow; and learning all the particulars there that came under the cognizance of Mrs. Doherty, he next drove rapidly to the poorhouse, where, as we have already stated, the pious officials had arranged the details so as to disappoint the Popish priest of his benevolent designs, and to secure, if possible, the adhesion of the young and interesting orphans to what they called "Bible religion."
When Father O'Shane called at the county house, he learned from an under official that the boss "warn't to home; and," said he, "the children hadn't been here mor'n a few hours, when a highly-respec'able farmer had taken them with him to bring up." He couldn't "tell nothin' about who the farmer was, or where he was from; but the children wor well done for, that's all." It was in vain the priest represented that the children were no paupers, but of highly-respectable connections, who were able and willing to provide for them. He didn't "know nothin' about that; but he knowed papers were signed, (as he was directed falsely to assert,) and that sartain the children could not now be claimed by any persons except their parents. They were now under the care of guardians." After repeated visits, continued for weeks and months, to the same establishment, Father O'Shane could gain no more satisfactory knowledge of the fate of the orphans. He was obliged to relinquish his search in despair, concluding that the children were kidnapped, and that, except by God's mercy, their faith and morals were doomed, under the influence of cold, contradictory infidelity or heresy. He mentioned the case to his congregation, earnestly soliciting their prayers for these poor orphans of Christ; and he oftentimes offered the holy sacrifice, to enlist the influence of heaven in their regard.
Let it not be said we exaggerate this account of the conduct of the poorhouse officials; and from the improbability of such an instance of injustice and cruelty happening in our day, let not our readers conclude that such a case, and many such cases, happened not in times gone by. Then the Irish Catholic population of the state was not much more than what that of one county is now. Then an Irish Catholic could not get the office of constable or bailiff; now we have Catholic cabinet ministers, judges, senators, legislators, and aldermen.
Then the ballot box was surrounded but by a few Irish naturalized citizens, and these not of such importance as to influence the election of a constable or poormaster; now the Irish adopted citizen, by the power he exercises in his vote, is solicited by candidates, from a town officer to the president; and whoever would attempt to reënact the kidnapping of Van Stingey, and many other officials of his class, in their days of petty power, would be sure to be compelled to retire forever from public life, and pass into the gloom and infamy of his depraved private circle. There were many exposures and wailings of the children of Israel on the waters of the river of Egypt, before Moses; and there was many an instance of the kidnapping of Irish Catholic children from their parents, or natural guardians, by the jealous Pharaohs of sectarianism, before the attempt made by Mr. Van Stingey to kidnap Paul O'Clery and his brethren.
In their new home, however, up to this time, Paul and his little charge were well treated, as far as meat and clothing were concerned. Even in regard to religion, and the devotional exercises prescribed by its precepts, there was no obstacle thrown in their way; although the fidelity of Paul and his sister Bridget to their morning and night prayers was quite astonishing to their patrons. A few indirect, covert attacks were all that, for many months, it was thought prudent they should have to encounter from the family, named Prying, with whom they staid. The truth was, that Paul, the eldest of the children, was such a smart, watchful, prudent young lad, his younger brothers and sister were so accustomed to obey him, and he exercised such emphatic authority over them, that it was the advice of the most prudent of the preachers who interested themselves in his case, to let him alone for the present. The change intended to be brought about was to be left to time, conversation, and the influence of common school education to accomplish. His education, in Ireland, was principally religious and classical, rather than commercial; and he was just now acquiring, in his present trying noviceship, what was precisely wanting to his previous course. He and his brothers, who lived in the next farmer's house, together with Bridget, his sister, who was under the same roof with himself, obstinately refused to attend the Sunday school, the meeting house, or to join in the prayer with which school was daily opened. Hence they were more than once publicly prayed for by the fanatical Presbyterian minister, the Rev. Mr. Gulmore, at whose church the Prying family attended. There was a sufficiency of prayers now "put up," in Mr. Gulmore's opinion, to begin the work of more practical conversion. Accordingly, a "big dinner" was prepared, a turkey cooked, and Friday fixed upon—the appetite being chosen, after a very ancient pattern in paradise, as the channel through which to "open the eyes" of these blind young Papists! Some neighboring ministers were of opinion that it was too soon to begin; but they were but Methodist, Universalist, and other preachers, who were jealous of the influence and of the salary of Mr. Gulmore, and who, besides, did not think it exactly fair that all the children should be converted to Presbyterianism, while there were a dozen as good denominations around, "and better too." But the good-salaried disciple of John Calvin had no respect for such opinion; so "forthwith the good work must begin," as he authoritatively said. He should not be trifled with any longer, or have it said that, after all the prayers "put up," and pains taken, "they should still be left wallowing in the mire of Popery."
"It should not be! It could not be! The power of the Lord must be made manifest. He could not any longer allow the light to remain under a bushel. It should shine, and he should then and there convert those obstinate young things to vital religion."
"Some turkey, Paul, my dear?" said Gulmore, after having first served the ladies and senior members of the family.
"Not any, sir, thank you," said Paul.
"Not any!" repeated the parson, frowning. "Why so? That's not good manners, my lad."
"If it be not, I am sorry, sir," said Paul. "I cannot be expected to be very polite, or to know the usages of this country, as yet. So I beg to be excused."