Beside this, the masses of any people crave an occasional popular commotion to vary the monotony of a peaceful national existence, and nothing else offered at the time. The advent of this party was, therefore, à propos.
How it used its power, we all know. It was, indeed, less a party than an army, for its measures were violent, invasive, and illegal. Its street-preachers, from Gavazzi downward, its pulpit-preachers, who countenanced their brethren of the mob by more decent but not less malicious attacks, its floods of foul literature penetrating to every nook and corner of the land, duping and inflaming the ignorant while it filled the pockets of irresponsible writers, editors, and publishers—the "canaille de la littérature," as Voltaire called such—its mobs and riots, its churches destroyed and clergymen maltreated, its committee of Massachusetts legislators, senators, and volunteers invading and insulting a community of defenceless women, all are matter of history. The spectacle was a strange and revolting one, and it was one which the country is not likely to see repeated with the same results; for it is incredible that American Catholics would ever again submit to such a persecution. It is more probable that, should we once more find our liberties threatened and our sacred places desecrated, there will be
"Thirty thousand Cornish men
To see the reason why."
In this movement, the ambitious town of Seaton was not to be left behind; but certain circumstances conspired to check for a while any great demonstration. The utter peacefulness of Father Rasle, and the undeniably good influence he exercised over his flock, gave no pretext for overt attack, and the fact that he was prospering and had built a church could only be cited as dangerous indications. Besides, Edith Yorke was, quite unconsciously, a shield to the church in her native town. Her uncle's family assumed steadily that no person who hoped for any countenance from them would say or do anything offensive to her. This assumption on the part of Mr. and Mrs. Yorke would not have had so much effect, but their children were more powerful. Carl was the idol and hero of the young ladies of the town, and not for worlds would one of them have seen directed to her that flashing gaze with which he regarded any person who even remotely reflected on his "cousin Edith." It did not take much to freeze that beautiful, laughing face of his when Edith was in question. Melicent also had a fair, and Clara a large, share of the gallantry of the town, and the former could disconcert by her haughtiness, the latter scathe by her passion, any offender against the family dignity. Major Cleaveland was also a powerful ally. Edith was to him an object of romantic admiration. He insisted that she ought to have a title, and used playfully to call her Milady and the Little Countess, and to say that, though he did not like the Catholic religion for himself or his family, he liked it for her.
"I naturally associate the thought of her," he said, "with incense, and lighted altars, and dim, rich aisles." And he quoted:
"Why, a stranger, when he sees her
In the street even, smileth stilly,
Just as you would at a lily.
"And should any artist paint her,
He would paint her, unaware,
With a halo round her hair."
Evidently, Major Cleaveland would not countenance anything likely to insult the dignity or hurt the feelings of this "radiant maiden"; and Major Cleaveland's countenance was of consequence in the town of Seaton.
Edith and Edith's religion had yet another protector in Mr. Griffeth. This gentleman was by far the most popular minister in town, and drew to himself all the explosive elements there. His manner of speaking was lively and theatrical, the matter amusing. Those progressive spirits found it delightful to have a pastor who, when he did condescend to draw from the Bible, took piquant texts, such as, Ephraim is as a cake that is half-baked. It provoked a smile, and that was what they wanted. Mr. George MacDonald had not then been heard of; but Mr. Griffeth already amused his hearers by holding up for their derision "old granny judgment."
"Do not believe," he said, "that God gives all the pain, and the devil all the pleasure. Indeed, I do not insist on your believing that there is any devil whatever."