FATHER DAMIEN'S DETACHMENT. T HERE is a wholesome feeling, which we
have certainly indulged with relation to Father Damien, that venera- tion may sometimes be better expressed by silence than by words, or at least that any words one could devise would be much more suitable to embody the impression produced by hundreds of noble and yet far meaner lives than that of one who occupies a perfectly unique place among the greater men of the spiritual world. One is shy of saying what is undiscriminating of a nature which it is very much better to look up to in mute reverence than to speak of in vague panegyric without really characterising it ; indeed, all panegyric gives the impression of a position from which one can fully see and appreciate what is praised, instead of a position from which one picks out traces of qualities raised far above one's own reach. But in the account of Father Damien just published, "from original letters and information," by the "Catholic Truth Society," we have an account of him which, based as it is on his brother's evidence, and on letters received by that brother from him during his sixteen years' seclusion among the lepers of the Sandwich Islands, places us above any temptation to use poor and vague words of praise in relation to the most Christlike life of our own day. We find in it what we wanted, distinctive character which it would be as useless as it would be impertinent to panegyrise, since praise would not make it a bit the commoner, though it might by possibility give rise to one or two spurious imitations of it that would result in nothing but mischief.
We have heard enough of the intellectual importance of "detachment" of mind,—that is, of absolute independence of anything like customary or prevalent conceptions of things • accepted simply because they are customary or prevalent. We have heard enough of the vast importance of the power of look- ing frankly at the realities of life without importing into the survey the assumptions of others. That is a very rare and valuable intellectual power ; but rare and valuable as it is, it is not so rare and valuable as that moral detachment of mind from all predominant passions, affections, and influences, which Father Damien seems to have exhibited from his youth upwards, the quality, we mean, of which the supreme example is given us in the life of Christ,—for example, in our Lord's early detachment of himself from his family ties, when he remained behind in the temple at Jerusalem to converse with the teachers of the law ; later, again, in his severance of himself from Nazareth and the prepossessions of the people of his own home ; still more in the deliberate rejection of his nation's most ardent dream of a coming Messiah who was to triumph over the Roman power, and his steadfast determination to impress on his reluctant and recalcitrant disciples, that suffering, shame, and death were the only avenues to the spiritual dominion of which he was assured ; and last of all, in the climax of the sublime assurance of the night before his crucifixion,—" Do ye now believe ? Verily, I say unto you, the hour cometh, yea, is now come, when ye shall be scattered every man to his own, and shall leave me alone ; and yet I am not alone, because the Father is with me."
Moral detachment of this kind from the ties of home, family, nation, and even personal followers, is the rarest thing in the world in Protestant Churches ; and to the extent to which Father Damien carried it, almost unique even amongst those who make the ideal life to consist in severing all the natural ties for the sake of a more complete life in God; but it is singularly prominent in everything that is told us of Father Damien's life, from his childhood upwards. When he was only four years old, the little Fleming was missed from home, and found alone in the church of a neighbouring village where a fair was going on, praying under the pulpit. With most children one would have put that down to affectation, but in Father Damien, simplicity and the plainest of plain demeanours, seem to have been absolutely inbred. When he was eighteen, he thought of joining the Trappists, but his nature was altogether too practical for any purely contemplative order, and his elder brother, who was himself a priest in training for a missionary life, persuaded him to devote himself to that life, which he did with characteristic decision and even abrupt- ness. He had been taken by his father to see his elder brother, and instead of returning home with him, told his father that it would be better to spare all the leavetakings and to stay at once, and become a lay member of the order of which his elder brother was a theological student,—for the boy had been educated for commerce, and had not at that time any know- ledge of Latin, or any training that would have warranted him in looking forward to the priesthood. And he stayed, and showed himself so zealous and quick in learning, that he was soon advanced to the rank of a regular theological student. He was still only twenty-three when his brother, who had been appointed to the mission to the Sandwich Islands, and whose place had been taken in the ship to Honolulu, fell ill of typhus, and it occurred to the younger brother that the elder might be comforted under his bitter disappointment if he himself could take his place. This proved to be the brother's earnest wish, and without even consulting his immediate superiors, the young man wrote to the Superior-General in Paris begging to be allowed to take his brother's place, in order that the passage- money might not be thrown away ; and when the order came, he was so overcome with joy, "that he danced about like one deranged, so that his fellow-students doubted whether he had not lost his senses." A more complete detachment from earthly ties than is implied in such joy as this at the prospect of the immediate and complete severance of all his closest ties, both personal and scholastic, and the commencement of an absolutely lonely career, can hardly be imagined. It was just the same when he reached the sphere of his work. Finding that he was appointed to comparatively light duties, but that the priest who was in charge of the neighbouring district was much less strong and equal to hard work than himself, he pressed on his brother-priest the exchange of districts, and the exchange was made. And the story gives the following account of the sort of lonely labour that he had to undergo even at the very opening of his missionary career :— " One day he arrived on horseback at the foot of a high and steep mountain, behind which he remembered that there was a Christian settlement not yet visited by him. Determining to visit it now, he tethered his horse and began the ascent, climbing up on his hands and feet, owing to the steep nature of the path. The summit reached, he found himself on one side of a precipitous ravine, which lay yawning at his feet. No human habitation could he see, but in the distance a second mountain as high as the first one met his undaunted gaze. Without hesitation he com- menced the descent, and courageously began to make his way up to the second hill in the same manner as the former. But what was his disappointment when he had gained the summit ! Still there was no sign of a church or village to encourage him. Below him he saw a large piece of flat country, and then, beyond that still, another hill. Any ordinary man would have turned back in despair, but one with a spirit like his, whose only aim was the saving of souls, could not be so easily daunted. So with a prayer of resignation and patience he persevered in his journey over the third mountain and then another ravine, till he had to stop through sheer fatigue. His bands were now torn and lacerated, and the blood flowed freely ; his feet, too, were wounded, for the boots that should have protected them were cut, and rendered almost useless by the hard treatment they had received. As he looked upon his blood-stained hands and feet he gained new courage, and calling to mind the sufferings of our Lord, he said, Courage ! the good God also has shed His Blood for those souls yonder!' He started again on his labour of love, and when at last, travel-worn and exhausted, he reached his destination, he was well repaid for his sufferings by the joy of the Christians, who welcomed for the first time their new-found apostle. They told him they had long been deprived of the consolations of religion, and pointed out to him the tomb of their late pastor, - Father Eustace."
For nine years he worked at the ordinary work of a mis- sionary priest, but with a constantly increasing pity for the lepers who were shipped off from time to time in considerable numbers to the island of Molokai, in order that they might not spread the plague of leprosy among healthy people. But in 1873 he thus suddenly plunged into that career of more absolute and utter detachment from all his former human ties in the prosecution of which he died only two months ago :— "At a meeting that was held to celebrate the dedication of a chapel just completed by a Father Leonor at Wailuku in the Island of Maui, Father Damien chanced to be present, together with the Bishop of Honolulu and others of his clergy. Among them were present some young priests of the Congregation, who had just arrived at Honolulu to supply the increasing needs of the mission. During the conversation, Mgr. lkinigret expressed deep regret that owing to the scarcity of his missioners he was unable to do anything for the poor lepers of Molokai, and especially did he regret that he was unable to provide them with a fixed pastor. Already his lordship had from time to time sent one of the missionaries to confess and administer the sacraments to the dying ; but this only happened rarely, and there was no guarantee of its being continued. Hearing the Bishop's lament, Father Damien took in the situation at a glance, and eagerly offered himself to supply the long-felt necessity. Monseigneur,' said he, here are your new missioners ; one of them could take my dis- trict, and if you will be kind enough to allow it, I will go to Molokai and labour for the, poor lepers, whose wretched state of bodily and spiritual misfortune has often made my heart bleed within me.' This generous offer was gladly accepted, and that very day, without even saying Good-bye !' to his friends, he embarked with the Bishop on a vessel that was just leaving the harbour of Honolulu with a consignment of fifty lepers."
That was as sudden and abrupt a decision as was the deci- sion by which he first entered on his missionary life. Nay, he had not had time to pack his clothes or take even a change of linen. When he landed among the lepers, he was without a hut of his own,—he had for a considerable time to sleep under a tree in the open air,—and he was as yet destitute of every earthly means of recommending himself to the vicious, hopeless, and neglected wretches amongst whom he came to labour. Yet from the very first his whole mind was given to improving the physical condition of the lepers, to supplying them with good water, with decent houses, with wholesome food, with hospital accommodation and medical aid,—in short, with the means of living a self-respecting life in every way, instead of the foul life of intoxication and vice to which the settlement was given up before his arrival ; for, spiritually detached as his mind was, and, indeed, because it was so completely detached from human prepossessions, he discerned clearly enough that some physical reform was absolutely essential before anything like a spiritual regeneration could be brought about.
We have no intention, however, of dwelling on the manner of Father Damien's life, except so far as it illustrates this wonderful moral " detachment " which seems to us one of the greatest and most impressive of spiritual signs. "Whenever I preach to my people," he said, "I do not say, 'My brethren,' as you do, but, 'We lepers.' People pity me and think me unfortunate, but I think myself the happiest of missionaries." And that is the note of his life all through, from the day when he danced for joy at being sent away alone to the Pacific mission, to the day when he discovered, by observing that he was scalded without feeling any pain, that he himself was losing the sensitiveness of his skin,— the first sign of leprosy. And not only to that day, but to the day of his death, Father Damien positively exulted in every- thing which severed him more and more from human sympathy and intensified his loneliness to the point at which God is the only refuge. For eleven years he remained quite free from the disease, but for the remaining five years it was gradually sapping his strength till it reduced him to the utmost weakness ; but before that time came, be had a number of associates in his work,—both priests and nuns,—whom his enthusiasm and his wonderful success in purifying the lives of the miserable outcasts, had drawn to it. It was in the lonely apprenticeship which opened this great career that the unique greatness and moral genius of the man was most vividly shown. Surely it is impossible to conceive a more strictly supernatural life than that of a man of deep affections, evincing by every sign, and especially by the simplicity and. warmth of his corre- spondence with his brother, how strong his family ties were, who positively exulted in every new severance of a personal tie, till at last he lived wholly a life in which he was not only quite alone, but regarded by the outside world with horror, being shut out by the physical and mental disgust of mankind from any approach to the society of ordinary men. No man, certainly no tenderly affectionate man, like Father Damien, could live at all, much less could live joyously, in such a seclusion, except by realising the truth of his Lord's words : "And yet I am not alone, for the father is with me." Detach- ment of this kind from all human love is only another name for the closest attachment to that invisible love which is the spring and. origin of all human affections.
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