i f6c06dd9cf3fe221 by Unknown (100 books to read in a lifetime .txt) 📗

"Nothing will make me change my mind about one priest, at least. Do you know, Peggy, I've had three cases of hysteria in children during the past month. And I've traced it all to the fear of Hell and Purgatory that damned priest has put into their little heads. Of course, the parents are staunch Catholics, and they won't have that it is anything to do with the church at all. It's no use trying to explain even the weakest psychology to adults who are eaten up with fear and superstition, which they call faith. That old fellow's got something to answer for, if he believes what he preaches."

"Now, now! I shouldn't have given you that last drink," laughed Peter.

"You know what I'm saying is true," said Rodney earnestly, hoisting himself from the deep, leather armchair and leaning forward.

"You two are Catholics, and enlightened ones, at that, but can you honestly say that, at sometime or other, the tenets of the Catholic faith have not scared you stiff?"

"No, of course not!" Peter said.

"You've been dealing with a type of person who would have hysterics in any case."

"You know, Rodney, I've always found the greatest comfort in my religion," said Peggy seriously.

"And, honestly, I've never known fear of a priest ... just the reverse."

"Well, tell me," persisted Rodney, 'do you believe in Purgatory, as it is preached? Do you believe that some of the poor devils around these towns are to be made to suffer for a period of time after death for the actions they do, named sins, mostly the result of the squalor in which they live? I've yet to meet a delinquent of another religious body troubled by the same fear. It would appear that Catholics can commit sins, any sins, for which they will be forgiven if they obey the rules: mass every Sunday, and confession and communion at least once a year.

But let them break the rules, and then comes the penalty--Purgatory, Hell! Their misery of the present is nothing to what's in store for them. I tell you, Peter, the majority are Catholics through fear. ""

It's a wide question, and neither of us knows much ; about it, but I admit you are right, up to a point," said Peter, with urbanity. " No, he's not! " put in Peggy vehemently.

"Yes, he is," went on Peter quietly; 'but only up to a point. There are a number of people who attend mass

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mainly out of fear, and it's all to the good; that very fear is a preventative. For what control have the civil authorities over men like Pat Donovan, say? and Danny McQueen of Jarrow? or Micky Macgregor of Shields? and of Tim Hannigan of the fifteen streets? A priest can manage men like these, where a policeman would be knocked flat for looking at them. I admit it's the old fear of the supernatural; but if they had no fear of something, or someone, if they thought they would not suffer personally after death for their misdeeds now, can you imagine, Rodney, what life in these few towns would be like? Let us hope that education in the coming generations will erase the necessity for fear. "

"But the number of bad hats is few compared with the number of ordinary people; don't forget that, Peter!" said Rodney.

"And, anyway, I'm not concerned with men like McQueen and Hannigan, I'm concerned mainly with children. The religion is crammed into them, the fear is crammed into them; they don't stand a chance.

"You talk of education erasing fears; do you think it will ever be allowed to? When I proposed seeing the headmistress of the Borough Road school and the priest, because I had been called three times in one week to a child of eight who had had screaming nightmares of the Devil coming to take her to Hell, the mother almost had hysterics too, and said, oh, I mustn't go to the school; it was nothing to do with the school, or the church, for she had had the same spasms when she was young--it was her stomach! Stomach, yes; racked nerves playing on the digestive organs! Doesn't that speak for itself?"

"Christmas Eve," said Peggy, 'and peace on earth; and you two having a theological discussion. "

"Sorry, Peggy. And you, too, Peter. It is very bad form of me, and at this time too. But you've yourself to blame," Rodney said, wagging his finger at Peggy.

"Carry on, carry on I' said Peter.

"We'll convert you yet."

"So that's your game, is it?" said Rodney, getting up. Well, I'm off!

"

"Sure you won't stay, Rodney? The children would love you to be here in the morning." Peggy made one last effort, "Come on, do 1'

"Temptress! " Rodney laughed down at her.

"By the way," said Peter, 'speaking of the children, don't you buy my hairns more expensive presents than I can afford to give them. You have estranged their affections enough already. "

"Oh yes," laughed Peggy.

"Do you know, Rodney, we listened to Michael and Cathleen talking? They were on about Santa Claus. Of course, Cathleen is well aware of his identity, but Michael is not quite sure;

so he said to her, "What do you think Santa will bring us, Cathleen?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Cathleen, "but I do know that Uncle Rodney will bring us something worth while. He's the only one who does! "

Now what do you think of that? "

"See what you've done? Made them mercenaries," said Peter.

"And we'll have to watch him, Peggy," he said to his wife, with mock sternness, 'or he'll be giving them talks on religion next, for they are two very scared children. "

"Shut up!" said Rodney.

"Have one more before you