rin Avere
left to the headlong impulses of their own evil propensities. Before Art
Maguire had fallen from his integrity and good name, there had not been
a more regular attendant at mass, or at his Easter and Christmas
duties, in the whole parish; in this respect he was a pattern, as Father
Costelloe, the priest, often said, to all who were anxious to lead a
decent and creditable life, forgetting their duty neither to God nor
man. A consciousness of his fall, however, made him ashamed in the
beginning to appear at mass, until he should decidedly reform, which he
proposed and resolved to do, or thought he resolved, from week to week,
and from day to day. How he wrought out these resolutions our readers
know too well; every day and every week only made him worse and worse,
until by degrees all thought of God, or prayer, or priest, abandoned
him, and he was left to swelter in misery among the very dregs of
his prevailing vice, hardened and obdurate. Many an admonition has he
received from Father Costelloe, especially before he become hopeless,
and many a time, when acknowledging his own inability to follow up his
purposes of amendment, has he been told by that good and Christian man,
that he must have recourse to better and higher means of support, and
remember that God will not withhold his grace from those who ask it
sincerely and aright. Art, however, could not do so, for although he had
transient awakenings of conscience, that were acute while they lasted,
yet he could not look up to God with a thorough and heartfelt resolution
of permanent reformation. The love of liquor, and the disinclination to
give it up, still lurked in his heart, and prevented him from setting
about his amendment in earnest. If they had not, he would have taken a
second oath, as his brother Frank often advised him to do, but without
effect. He still hoped to be able to practise moderation, and drink
within bounds, and consequently persuaded himself that total abstinence
was not necessary in his case. At length Father Costelloe, like all
those who were deeply anxious for his reformation, was looked upon as
an unwelcome adviser, whose Christian exhortations to a better course of
life were anything but agreeable, because he spoke truth; and so strong
did this feeling grow in him, that in his worst moments he would rather
sink into the earth than meet him: nay, a glimpse of him at any distance
was sure to make the unfortunate man hide himself in some