“That is not inappropriate,” said Edward. “Unfortunately, the sword and the crosier have been frequently but too intimate companions. Preaching the word of peace has been too often the pretext for war. The Spaniards, for instance, in the name of the gospel, committed the most fearful atrocities.”
“Oh, I know,” said Gustavus, “that was in the time of bloody Mary and the Armada.”
Edward wondered at the boy's ignorance, and saw in an instant the source of his false application of his allusion to the Spaniards. Gustavus had been taught to vaguely couple the name of “bloody Mary” with everything bad, and that of “good Queen Bess” with all that was glorious; and the word “Spanish,” in poor Gusty's head, had been hitherto connected with two ideas, namely, “liquorice” and the “Armada.”
Edward, without wounding the sensitive shame of ignorant youth, gently set him right, and made him aware he had alluded to the conduct of the Spaniards in America under Cortes and Pizarro.
For the first time in his life Gustavus was aware that Pizarro was a real character. He had heard his grandmamma speak of a play of that name, and how great Mr. Kemble was in Rollo, and how he saved a child; but as to its belonging to history, it was a new light—the utmost Gusty knew about America being that it was discovered by Columbus.
“But the crosier,” said Edward, “is amongst the most interesting of Irish antiquities, and especially belongs to an Irish collection, when you remember the earliest preaching of Christianity in the western isles was in Ireland.”
“I did only know that,” said the boy.
“Then you don't know why the shamrock is our national emblem?”
“No,” said Gustavus, “though I take care to mount one in my hat every Patrick's day.”
“Well,” said Edward, anxious to give Gustavus credit for any knowledge he possessed, “you know at least it is connected with the memory of St. Patrick, though you don't know why. I will tell you. When St. Patrick first preached the Christian faith in Ireland, before a powerful chief and his people, when he spoke of one God, and of the Trinity, the chief asked how one could be in three. St. Patrick, instead of attempting a theological definition of the faith, thought a simple image would best serve to enlighten a simple people, and stooping to the earth he plucked from the green sod a shamrock, and holding up the trefoil before them he bade them there behold one in three. The chief, struck by the illustration, asked at once to be baptised, and all his sept followed his example.”