SWEARING NO VICE.
English slang contrasted with Irish imprecation—The chase of St. Chrysostom, and his rescue—Meet garnish for an Hibernian anecdote—Futile attempts at imitation by English dramatists, &c.—Remarks of a puritan on the author and his book—A caution, and a shrewd way of observing it—Michael Heney, steward of the author’s father—His notions concerning swearing—Curious dialogue between him and the author—New mode of teaching children filial respect.
Though I have more than ordinary cause to be gratified by the reception the first two volumes of this work so unexpectedly met with, and am extremely grateful for that reception, yet I am well aware that certain starched moralists may conceive, and perhaps,primâ facie, with reason, that there is too much “imprecation,” and what the fastidious of Bond-street callvulgarityintroduced into the Irish colloquies. I admit that a person who has never been in the interior of Ireland, or accustomed to the Irish people and their peculiarities, might naturally think so. I therefore feel it a duty to such critics, to give them at least one or two reasonswhy they should not consider Irish oaths immoral, or Irish colloquy vulgar.
The outrageous blasphemy and indecency, so copious in theslangof England, with neither wit, point, or national humour, to qualify it, might indeed disgust even the seven hundred imps whom the devil sent into this world to capture St. Chrysostom.[13]The curses and imprecations of Ireland are of a nature totally different. They have no great variety; they are neither premeditated, nor acquired through habits of dissipation. They are idiomatic, a part and parcel of the regular language of the country, and repeated in other countries as a necessary appendage to the humour of an Irish story, though they would be utterly unadapted to any other people. Walter Scott’s delightful writings, with all the native simplicity and idiomatic dialect of the ancient Celtic, would be totally spoiled, for instance, had he mingled or introduced in them the oaths and idioms indispensable as a seasoning to Irish colloquy; an observation sufficiently illustrated by the absurd and stupid attempts to imitate Irish phraseology made by English dramatic mimics and grimacers.
13.There is a manuscript of great antiquity in the library of the Vatican, which gives a full and circumstantial account of the chase and running down of St. Chrysostom by a legion of devils, and of his recapture by an inconsiderable number of saints, who came from heaven to the rescue.
13.There is a manuscript of great antiquity in the library of the Vatican, which gives a full and circumstantial account of the chase and running down of St. Chrysostom by a legion of devils, and of his recapture by an inconsiderable number of saints, who came from heaven to the rescue.
Here I am quite prepared for the most severe criticism. “Upon my word (the lank-haired puritan will say), this is a most dangerous and sinful writer; holding out that an anecdote, if it be Irish, would lose its relish if there were neither oaths nor imprecations tacked to it. No man can, in the opinion of that immoral writer, repeat an innocent Irish story, unless he at the same time calls down the wrath of Heaven upon himself; and, moreover, upon such of his auditors as take any pleasure in hearing him.”
I know two very young ladies who told me that their mammas directed them to skim over anyimproperparts of the Sketches;—and that they read every word, tofind outthose improper parts. The book, they said, was extremely diverting; and as to the oaths, they never swore themselves, and never would, and therefore readingthat partcould do them no harm.
My own notions respecting this Irish habit of imprecation were illustrated many years ago by an actual dialogue with a man of low rank in that country; and as our conversation bore upon a subject of which scarce a day passes without reminding me, I have retained its import as if it had taken place yesterday: and though, after an interval of more than forty-five years, it is not to be expected I should repeat the exactwordsuttered, yet I really think my memory serves as to the precisesentences.
We had got accidentally upon the topic; and I expressed my opinion, as I have already stated it here, that these objectionable phrases were merely idiomatic and involuntary—betraying no radical or intentional vice. His notion went further; he apologised for the practice not only statistically, but said, with characteristic fervour, that the genuine Irish people could not “do without it.” “Many,” said he, “would not mind what was said to them, unless there was a curse tacked on to the direction. For instance, old Ned Doran, of Cherry Hill, ordered all his children, male and female, neither to curse nor swear, as they regarded their father’s orders; and the consequence was, the people all said they were going to turnswadlers, and not a maid or a labourer would do a farthing’s worth of work—for want of beingforcedto do it in the ‘owld way.’”
The man I talked with was a character not very general in England, but frequently met with among the Irish commonalty, whose acuteness of intellect, naturally exceeding that of English labourers, is rather increased by the simplicity of their ideas. Self-taught, they turn any thing they learn to all the purposes that their humble and depressed state can give room for.
Fortune had denied him the means of emerging from obscurity; and Michael Heney was for many years the faithful steward of my father, living with him to the period of his death. His station in lifehad been previously very low; his education was correspondent; but he had from Nature a degree of mental strength which operated in possessing him with a smattering of every thing likely or proper to be understood by persons of his grade. He was altogether a singularity, and would not give up one iota of his opinions. To address him as a casuist, was the greatest favour you could confer on Mick Heney; and the originality of his ideas, and promptitude of his replies, often amused me extremely.
But for the detail of our dialogue:—
“Is it not extraordinary, Michael,” said I one day (as a great number of labourers were making up hay in one of the meadows, and Michael and myself were seated on a heap of it), “that those poor fellows can scarcely pronounce a sentence without some oath to confirm, or some deity to garnish it with?”
“Master Jonah, (he never said ‘please your honour’ to any body but his master,) sure its theironlyway of talkingEnglish. They can speak very goodIrishwithout either swearing or cursing, because it’s their own tongue. Besides, all their forefathers used to be cursing the English day and night for many a hundred years; so that they never used the Sassanagh tongue without mixing curses along with it, and now it’s grown a custom, and they say that the devil himself could not break them of it—poor crethurs!”
“I should think the devil won’t try, Mick Heney.”
“It’s no joke, Master Jonah.”
“But,” said I, (desirous of drawing him out,) “they never fail to take the name of J—s on every silly occasion. Sure there’s no reason inthat?”
“Yes, but there is, Master Jonah,” said Heney: “in the owld time, when the English used to be cutting and hacking, starving and burning the poor Irish, and taking all their lands, cattle and goods from them, the crethurs were always praying to Jesus and his holy Mother to save them from the Sassanaghs: and so, praying to Jesus grew sopat, that now they can’t help it.”
“But then, Michael,” said I, “the commandments!”
“Poo-o! what have the crethurs to do with the commandments? Sure it’s the Jews, and not the poor Catholics, that have to do with them: and sure the parliament men make many a law twice as strong as any commandments; and the very gentlemen that made those said laws don’t observe their own enactments, except it suits their own purposes—though every ’sizes some of thecrethursare hanged for breaking one or two of them.”
Heney was now waxing warm on the subject, and I followed him up as well as I could. “Why, Mick, I wonder, nevertheless, that your clergy don’t put a stop to the practice: perpetually calling on the name of our Redeemer, withoutany substantial reason for so doing, is certainly bad.”
“And what better name could they call on, Master Jonah?” said Heney. “Why should the clergy hinder them? It’s only putting them in mind of the name they are to be saved by. Sure there’s no other name could do them a pennyworth of good or grace. It’s well for the crethurs they have that same name to use. As father Doran says, pronouncing the glorified name puts them in mind every minute of the only friend any poor Irish boy can depend upon; and there can be no sin in reminding one of the place we must all go to, and the Holy Judge we’ll be all judged by at the latter end. Sure it’s not Sergeant Towler,[14]or the likes of him, you’d have the crethurs swearing by, Master Jonah. He makes them rememberhimplentifully when he comes to these parts.”
14.Toler, now Lord Norbury, of whom the common people had a great dread.
14.Toler, now Lord Norbury, of whom the common people had a great dread.
“And even the schoolmasters don’t punish young children for the same thing,” remarked I.
“Why should they?” rejoined Michael Heney. “Sure Mr. Beal, though he’s a Protestant, does not forbid it.”
“How so?”
“Why, because he says if he did, it would encourage disobedience to their parents, which is byall clergy forbidden as a great sin as well as shame.”
“Disobedience!” said I, in wonder.
“Yes; the fathers and mothers of thechildergenerally curse and swear their own full share every day, at any rate: and if the master told the childer it was a great sin, they would consider their fathers and mothers wicked people, and so despise and fly in their faces!”
“But, surely you are ordered not to take God’s name in vain?”
“And sure,” said Heney, “itsnotin vain when it makes people believe the truth; and many would not believe a word a man said in this country unless he swore to it, Master Jonah.”
“But cursing,” persisted I, “is ill-natured as well as wicked.”
“Sure there’s no harm in cursing abrute beast,” said Heney, “because there’s no soul init; and if one curses aChristianfor doing a bad act, sure its only telling him what he’ll get a taste of on the day of judgment.”
“Or, perhaps,the day after, Michael Heney,” said I, laughing.
“The devil a priest in the county can tell that,” said Heney; “but, (looking at his watch,) you’re playing yourprankson me, Master Jonah! the bells should have been rung for the mowers’ dinner half an hour ago, and be d—d to them! The devil sweep them altogether, the idle crethurs!”
“Fie to yourself, Mr. Heney!” cried I: but he waited for no further argument, and I got out, I really think, the reasons which they all believe justify the practice. The French law makes an abatement of fifteen years out of twenty at the gallies, if a man kills another without premeditation: and I think the same principle may apply to the involuntary assemblage of oaths which, it should seem, have been indigenous in Ireland for some centuries past.