Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1896-03-19
MEMORIES OF IRELAND.
Address Of Rev. Father Harrington at the
St. Pa.rick's Concert in Gardiner.

The address Of Rev. Father Harrington
at the st. Patrick's concert in Gardiner,
Tuesday evening, deserves more than
passing mention. 1t was exceptionally
able, and will long ba remembered by all
who were SO fortunate rs to hear it.
Father Harrington began by requesting
his audience to forget for the moment the
human feelings that struggle beside the
heart of a lover of a martyred nation; to
forget for awhile the speaker who adj
dressed them, and to allow their throb-
bing hearts to expand beneath the kindly
influences of glorious recoilections. May
the voice of an humble priest, said he, fall
like the echoes of the Old chapel bell you
heard in childhood, awakening memories
of far off past, when you looked upon the
green hills, the daisied meadows, and the
snow white cottages of old Ireland
He spoke Of the awakened enthusiasm
developed on each occurrence of the ami
versary that occurs on Tuesdsy-St. Pat
rick S day, and how the heart of the Irish
man instinctively turns to his native
home on that day, and pours into the
stars -jeweled heavens II prayer to the God
of his Fathers that his beloved Erin may
be disenthralled, his brother Irishman
free, and the faith, for which his fore
fathers died, forever the faith and glory
of Ireland
He then mentioned nations that had
fallen from the faith but in Ireland, said
he, st. Patrick s voice is still as potent as
when he met her Druid priests at their
stone affairs.
He spoke Of the monasterics founded by
Tri- Tt,lxy
Switzerland, which became Conservatives
and centcrs of arts. science and literature.
He traced the peregrinations of St.
Patrick disciples and followers, over
nearly every region OF the habitable globe,
preaching the crucified Christ. and sacri-
ficing for the faith every human con
sideration, even liberty and life itself.
Taking Ireland rs whole, he said
Among the nations of the earth there is
one that has never accepted the yoke of
spiritual oppression one though ma
terial slave, yet is free in her noble soul.
The haughtiest and proudest power on
earth has seized her body, and sworn to
war of determination, has tried to drag her
into the abyss of apostacy, but that mighty
power has succumbed, unable to betray her
victims courage, or her undying fidelity
to her God. And although plundered of
her native birthrights by gigantic conf]sca-
tiuns, oppressed by famines, prosecutions
coercioDs, etc, yet not all these have ever
succeeded In bending Erin's knees to an
alien race OF an ellen religious persua-
sion.
He then portrayed the missionary work
of the Irish immigrants to this land, who
came not from the halowed cells of the
anointed but from the whitewashed and
straw matched cabins of Ireland.
He mentioned the large number of CON
versions accomplished in this country by
the lives and example of those innocent
and spotless Irish girls, whose conduct has
astonished millions and who have forced
unbelievers to exclaim like the Pagans
of old, that the religion which has made
them SO good, must be something divine.
He paid tribute to the Irish soldiers
in the late American war, and said that
they were also missionaries in their way.
carrying the faith into the battle fields
and forcing their comrades to respect and
think well of that church whose dutiful
sons the Irish were.
After speaking nearly an hour on the
of the Irish to the faith of their
upostiC uC COuClltttI a lOIlR -tO-De -Temcm-
bered discourse in almost the following
words
The Irish nation lives by its spiritual
nature, and clad In the celestial armor of |
faith, is invincible and impcrishable.
The love Of Erin for the faith is the |
poetry of every wind that |
sweeps over her fair bosom; it is the song
that is sung by the murmurng brooks
once crimsoned by the blood of heroes: it |
speaks from the graves of uncanonied |
saints and martyrs; the tyrant might |
draw dark pail over the page of h story,
but he was impotent to extingulsh the |
spirit of the past; for, in q land where |
every vale has been battle field, and
every sod the grave of II soldier, the very
ghosts would rise up as witnesses. and |
the voices of the night would come laden
with the memory of wrongs unavenged, |