I was, as has been stated, born a Roman Catholic, and educated a priest in that church. I solemnly declare to you, fellow-citizens of my adopted country, that nothing has been more forcibly impressed upon my mind, by my teachers, when a boy—by the priest to whom I confessed when young—by the professors under whom I read Popish theology—or by the bishop who ordained me, and with whom I lived subsequently as chaplain—than the obligation I was under of extirpating heresy, by argument, if possible; and, if not, by any other means, even to the shedding of blood. And there is not now, in this country, an Irish priest nor an Irish Roman Catholic, and true son of the church, who does not believe that, if he could collect all the heretics in the United States, and form them into one pile, he would be serving God in applying a torch to it. And, incredible as it may appear to you, their church teaches them that, in doing so, they would be serving you.
The doctrine is taught now, as it was in past by their priests, that the body must be destroyed, for the good of the soul. "It is a benefit." say the pious Popish priests, "to heretics to be killed; the fewer will be his sins, and the shorter will be his hell!" You naturally shudder at this doctrine, but it is not many years since Leo XII. in one of his bulls of jubilee, or indulgence to the faithful, announces publicly, and without shame, or sorrow, proclaims to Catholics, his beloved subjects, that in order to obtain the indulgence granted by that bull of jubilee, there are two conditions, without which, they can derive no benefit from it, namely, the exaltation of the holy mother church, and the extirpation of heresy. This "blessed bull" was published in 1825, and directed to the archbishop of Baltimore, and all other Popish bishops in the United States, to be made such use of as their lordships may think proper!
Will you believe it, Americans, that this doctrine is taught, this very day, in the college of Maynooth, Ireland. You will find it in De LaHogue's Tract. Theolog. ch. viii. p. 404, of the Dublin edition. No priest or bishop will question the authority of Dr. De La Hogue. He has been professor in that college for nearly half a century. I must, however, add here, for the information of all who are unac-quainted with the doctrine of the pious frauds practised by Romish, priests, that their respective bishops, or in his absence, the vicar-general, can give any of them a dispensation to deny any truth or to tell any falsehood for the "exaltation of holy mother church." I have received such dispensations myself, but, not having the fear of the Pope before my eyes, I took the liberty of disregarding them.
Many will ask me, Why have you not made these things known before now? There were many reasons why I suppressed them.
I knew my motives, however disinterested, might then be questioned; secondly, the public mind was not prepared for the developments which I have made. Thirdly, my love of peace and quietness induced me to withdraw to a part of the country, distant from the scene of my controversy, hoping that the miscreant priests and bishops of the Romish church would permit me to pursue my new profession of the law, without interruption. But in this, as I ought to have known, I was disappointed. Although I have not, since I left Philadelphia, until very recently, even replied to the calumnies which vagabond Irish priests who infest this country, and the still greater vagabond bishops who govern them, together with the tools which they keep in their employment, have heaped upon me; still they have, in the true spirit of their vocation, never ceased to pursue me with their vengeance.
No sooner had I abjured the Pope, disregarded his-bulls, and thereby become a heretic, than they had me burnt in effigy! But much more gratified would they be, had they my person in the place of the effigy. I still remained unmoved. Soon after this, Bishop England, of Charleston, South Carolina, established a press, called the "Catholic Miscellany," whose columns teemed, for months,—almost for years,—with the grossest and vilest abuse against me; yet while this restless demagogue, who is now in his grave, was spewing forth his filthy abuse, I was prospering in my profession, and partially recovering my health, which I thought was radically destroyed by the persecutions I suffered in Philadelphia; and thus, while the Pope in Rome, and the Romish bishops and priests of this country, were cursing me, Heaven was blessing my efforts and gaining me the confidence of the virtuous and good, whom I had the pleasure of meeting in my intercourse with the world.
Strange indeed are the practices of Papists! Previous to my heresy in Philadelphia, there was not in that city a more popular man—not another more respected; I may almost say, that there was no man, of any pursuit or calling, whose friendship was more courted. Yet the moment I committed the unpardonable sin of differing with the Pope of Rome, every one of his faithful children, not only there but throughout the world, was bound by his oath of allegiance to persecute me in every possible way.
Never forget, Americans, that the same oath of allegiance, which binds them to persecute me, is also binding on them to persecute and destroy you. Some of you will say, this cannot be. A church, numbering among her priests such men as Massillon, Fenelon, Chevereux, and Taylor of Boston, cannot entertain, much less command, a spirit of persecution. True, as far as we can judge, these were godly men. They would be an honor to any religion. But in the Popish church, they were like stars that strayed from their homes, and losing their way, fell, by accident, upon the dark firmament of sin and Popery; but even there, their native light could not be obscured; on the contrary, the darker the clouds around them, the more beautiful and brilliant did their light appear. Poor Taylor,—"Peace be to thy memory,—we have been friends together." Methinks I can, even now, feel the warm pressure of thy hand, see the charities of thy soul beaming in thy speaking eye and gentle countenance, yet thou too had been considered almost a heretic in the city of New York, and would have been denounced as such by the rude and vulgar bishop of that diocese, had not the amiable Chevereux interfered.
Often have I regretted that this Mr. Taylor, who was my classmate, and companion of my youth, had not, in addition to his private virtues, more fortitude and decision of character. He was the Erasmus of his day, in the United States. He was born and educated a gentleman; so was the amiable but timid Erasmus. He was educated a Roman Catholic; so was Erasmus. He was a chaste and elegant classical scholar; so was Erasmus. Taylor, knowing full well the corruptions of the Romish church, went from New York to Rome, about the year 1822, in order to induce the Pope to modify such of its doctrines as were objectionable in this country. But he wanted courage, and hastily retreated back, lest he should be consigned to the inquisition. Erasmus, too, wanted courage, a quality as necessary for a reformer as it is to a general in storming a city and hence it is; that those two amiable men, similar in character and disposition, though living in ages widely apart, have lived ostensibly members of a church, whose doctrines they loathed from the very bottom of their souls.
This might have been the temper, the character, and the cause, why such men as Massillon and Fenelon have lived and died Roman Catholics. They felt, probably, as Erasmus did, when he said, "It is dangerous to speak, and dangerous to be silent." "I fear," said he, in another place, "that if a tumult arose, I should be like Peter in his fall." It is not at all strange, that such men as we have spoken of, should have contented themselves with having inculcated virtue, and denounced vice. There were such men in all ages, and, as a modern writer expresses it, "in all great religious movements there are undecided characters." But let it be borne in mind, that even great and good as they seemed to be, and eloquent and pious as they appeared, still they are only exceptions in the great body of the advocates of Popery.