was used for fashionable purposes, for balls, concerts, lectures, and general gay and fanciful exhibitions. The idea occurred to a Mr. Olivier, a highly-respectable Catholic gentleman, that, with comparatively little expense, this hall could be converted into a church for public worship. He communicated his thoughts on the subject to Mr. Keating, the publisher, with whom Father O'Leary then lived. After some deliberation on the subject, it was agreed that O'Leary should draw up an address to the public, soliciting their assistance in forwarding the project. It was taken up by Bishop Douglas, who lent it all the weight of his position and influence; and it was advocated from the pulpit by the Rev. Mr. Archer, one of the ablest and most popular preachers of the day. The work went on-the expense increased; but the money came in. At length the change was effected; and what was once a temple of folly, the scene of the gay frivolities of thoughtless worldlings, the theatre of vice, and its countless train of evil deeds, became a consecrated sanctuary, dedicated to the service of the Most High, where prayer ascended as incense before His throne in heaven, and His blessing was invoked upon His children on earth. The new church was for many years after, like its fellowchurch in Old Friary-lane, Cork, known to the world as "Father O'Leary's Chapel"-apt monuments for a minister of God.

The admirable labors of the great priest in this church, and their glorious results, are well portrayed in the splendid panegyric preached over his remains by the Rev. Morgan D'Arcy, which will be found in the appendix of this work. It is a remarkable fact, that the moment an Irish Roman Catholic of the humbler class leaves his native country, and settles in England or America, withdrawn from the salutary influence of his clergy, he evinces a strong tendency to an utter neglect

of all his religious duties; but once that he is again subjected to the sacred spell, he returns to the paths of virtue with an earnestness all the more devoted because intensified by the bitterest repentance for past misconduct. We are assured by the eloquent panegyrist of O'Leary, that while hundreds of Irish, men and women, ran riot in the streets of London, freed from all pastoral control, the burdens and terrors of society, no sooner were they brought within the sphere of their reverend fellow-countryman's influence, no sooner did they hear his powerful preaching, and witness his astounding zeal, than they sought, through him, the blessing of reconciliation with the offended Deity, and became models of good conduct, self-respecting and respected, sober, industrious, and orderly. To those who know the character of the Celtic Irishman this will be perfectly intelligible. The religious element seems blended with his very nature, as we find it interwoven with his history-we can scarcely think of him without thinking also of his creed. Under peculiar circumstances he may become the victim of indifference, the slave of immorality; but the faith he never loses. Let him persist in crime, he is never insensible to the pangs of remorse; let him but hear the familiar voice of a native clergyman, and he becomes thoroughly reformed, bowing with a marvellous submissiveness to the most humiliating yoke religion can impose-brought within the magic circle of priestly care, (so much abused by those who understand it not,) he displays the genuine qualities of a heart naturally disposed to virtue, where the sacred flame, obscured for a season, but never quite extinguished, blazes forth as of old in a congenial sanctuary.

CHAPTER XI.

Father O'Leary's Hidden Life-Effect of the French Revolution on his Mind-He assists the French Refugees-His great Sermon on their behalf-Extracts from it-He ridicules the Predictions of the Expiring Papacy-Pius the Sixth-Announcement of the Pontiff's Death in London-Father O'Leary preaches his Panegyric-Magnificent Audience-Extracts from the Sermon-Opinions of the Press on it.

FATHER O'LEARY'S sermons attracted large and eager audiences; nor were his hearers confined to persons of his own persuasion, but every sect supplied its contribution. For his discourses were, for the most part, of that description, which, while vindicating the truths of what has been called our common Christianity," did not hurt the peculiar religious susceptibilities of any one. And, while defending the doctrines of the Catholic religion, he delivered himself with such fairness and candour, and his manner was so destitute of heat, so free, apparently as in fact, from wilful, unreasoning prepossession, that while, perhaps, no stranger to the fold was convinced just then, all listened with pleasure, and took away food for serious afterthought. He had the grand qualities of the preacher enumerated by the pious Cowper: he was

"simple, grave, sincere :

In doctrine, uncorrupt; in language, plain,
And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste,
And natural in gesture; much impressed
Himself, as conscious of his awful charge,
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds
May feel it too; affectionate in look,
And tender in address, as well becomes
A messenger of grace to guilty men."

Z

His life was as incorrupt as his doctrine; we can find no blemish in the purity of his character. To himself he was a stern disciplinarian, save when the exigencies of the society in which he mixed necessitated a moderate indulgence, lest he might seem to parade with unbecoming ostentation that self-denial which he practised in private, and which was thoroughly congenial to his own taste. Witty and gay, "brilliant and bright" as the wine that circled round the board, no man loved solitude more than he, or sought the charms of it more eagerly. His early conventual training had given him this taste for seclusion, and had fashioned his mind to the art of contemplation. He did cherish, at a late period of his existence, the hope to end his life in solitude, that he might the better prepare his soul for eternity; but it remained a hope. However, in his own chambers, he sought a frequent retreat from the world, which he always turned to good account. He read and wrote, and, no doubt, prayed; thus presenting to mankind a glorious model to admire or copy-an upright Christian man working for the good of the whole human family; a Christian minister of spotless reputation working until death in the cause of his Master.

While Arthur O'Leary was thus toiling on in the great cause of religion, events were passing in France which saddened and embittered his mind, devoted as that large mind was to the best and truest interests of all mankind. It was the period of the great Revolution, the very memory of whose horrors, after the lapse of three-quarters of a century, still shocks the world-the period when infidelity slew the souls of its thousands and tens of thousands, and when the lust for blood discovered in the inhabitants of a civilized country a depth of savage brutality theretofore unknown in the constitution of the human race. O'Leary, brought up from his youth in that great country, imbued with its learn

ing, polished by its manners, admiring its institutions, and venerating its ancient nobility, could not realize France in any other light than that of a nation characterized from the earliest days of its civilization as the land where honor, and chivalry, and religion, found their most sacred home-the land of learning, of eloquence, of the arts and sciences, of military glory. Alas! how changed! Monarchy dethroned—the aristocracy murdered, butchered, annihilated—religion supplanted by reason-the hand of the assassin raised against the helplessness of age, the innocence of childhood, the weakness and purity of womanhood; men revelling like demons on blood to-day, and their own shed for new revellers to-morrow; the whole country delivered over to uncontrolled human passions, sacrificed to crime, dishonor, poverty, bankruptcy, and ruin.

O'Leary felt intensely for the miseries to which the country he loved so well had become a victim, and continued so to feel to the very end of his life. Naturally a lover of religion and social order, he here, to his horror, beheld the most abominable subversion of both. But there was no help for it-the ordeal should be gone through. He could only show the depth of his sympathy in the cause of suffering France, by extending to the thousands of emigrants who flocked from her shores to England, all that kindness which it was possible for him to bestow. He called public attention to their desperate condition, by frequent and vigorous appeals through the press. He went about seeking for them occupation and employment, and with many he shared the hospitality of his table and the contents of his purse. His sermons, at this time, were strenuously directed to the suppression of that infidel growth of opinion, which, springing from France, appeared likely to spread its baleful shadow over the whole face of Europe. On the 8th of March, 1797, a day of solemn