* “Are these men supposed to have no sense of justice that,
in addition to the burthen of supporting their own
establishment exclusively, they should be called on to pay
ours; that, where they pay sixpence to their own priest,
they should pay a pound to our clergymen; that, while they
can scarce afford their own a horse, they should place ours
in his carriage; and that when they cannot build a mass-
house to cover their multitudes, they should be forced to
contribute to build sumptuous churches for half a dozen
Protestants to pray under a shed—Inquiry into the Causes of
Popular Discontents, &c. page 27.
“While my heart felt compassion, my tenderest sympathy is given to those of my brethren who are by birth and education divested of that scale of thought, and obtuseness of feeling, which distinguish those of the order, who, reared from the lowest origin upon principles the most servilizing, are callous to the innumerable humiliations of their dependent state——”
Here an old man mounted on a mule, rode up to the priest, and with tears in his eyes informed him that he was just going to the castle to humbly entreat his reverence would visit a poor child of his, who had been looked on with “an evil eye,” a few days back, * and who had ever since been pining away.
* It is supposed among the lower order of Irish, as among
the Greeks, that some people are born with an evil eye,
which injures every object on which it falls, and they will
frequently go many miles out of their direct road, rather
than pass by the house of one who has “an evil eye.” To
frustrate its effects, the priest hangs a consecrated charm
around the necks of their children, called “a gospel;” and
the fears of the parents are quieted by their faith.
“It was our misfortune,” said he, “never to have tied a gospel about her neck, as we did round the other children’s, or this heavy sorrow would never have befallen us. But we know if your reverence would only be pleased to say a prayer over her, all would go well enough!”
The priest gave me a significant look, and shaking me cordially by the hand, and pressing my speedy return to Inismore, rode off with the suppliant.
Thus, in his duty, “prompt at every call,” after having passed the night in acts of religious benevolence, his humanity willingly obeyed the voice of superstitious prejudice which endowed him with the fancied power of alleviating fancied evils.
As I rode along, reflecting on the wondrous influence of superstition, and the nature of its effects, I could not help dwelling on the strong analogy which in so many instances appears between the vulgar errors of this country and that of the ancient as well as modern Greeks.
St. Chrysostom, * relating the bigotry of his own times, particularly mentions the superstitious horror which the Greeks entertained against “the evil eye.” And an elegant modern traveller assures us, that even in the present day they “combine cloves of garlic, talismans, and other charms, which they hang about the necks of their infants, with the same intention of keeping away the evil eye.”
* “Some write on the hand the names of several rivers, while
others make use of ashes, tallow, salt for the like
purposes—all this being to divert the ‘evil eye.’”