Duncan MacGregor dons the distinctive and striking red and black check tartan in this mid-XIX Century portrait by Kenneth MacLeay.
Musical training is a more potent instrument than any other, because rhythm and harmony find their way into the inward places of the soul; on which they mightily fasten, imparting grace, and making the soul of him who is rightly educated graceful, or of him who is ill-educated ungraceful; and also because he who has received this education of the inner being will most shrewdly perceive omissions or faults in art and nature, and with a true taste, while he praises and rejoices over and receives into his soul the good, and becomes noble and good, he will justly blame and hate the bad, now in the days of his youth, even before he is able to know the reason why; and when reason comes he will recognise and salute the friend with whom his education has made him long familiar.
— Plato, The Republic, Book III
Preacher was talking there’s a sermon he gave;
He said every man’s conscience is vile and depraved.
You cannot depend on it to be your guide,
When it’s you who must keep it satisfied.
It ain’t easy to swallow it sticks in the throat;
She gave her heart to the man in the long black coat.
I have often wondered how the Modernists, in the light of history, can defend their gutted liturgical rites as truly Catholic with a straight face. When, in the XVI century, the handlers of Edward VI had the altars pulled down and replaced with Cranmer tables, toppled and smashed the images of Our Lord, Our Lady, and the saints, destroyed the rood screens and any sense of definition to the Sanctuary; when the Church of England eviscerated the Ordinal, commanded the use of the vernacular language in the Liturgy, invited communicants to enter the chancel and sit around the table for the Lord’s Supper, a eucharistic rite purged of all references to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass; when they allowed communion under both species and reception of the Bread in the hand, and all but eliminated the Sacrament of Penance — all this was called heresy and schism.
But, when the Modernists foisted each of these innovations on the Catholic Church during and after the Second Vatican Council, it was termed aggiornamento! This leads me to wonder: if the first Anglican Ordinal was so defective as to render Anglican Orders “absolutely null and utterly void,” how are we to be certain that the similar Ordinal of the New Rite truly makes priests?
And although for so long a time those kings with their own power had stoutly defended against tyrants and kings of divers countries the inheritance that God had given them and had always kept their birthright of freedom unimpaired, yet at last, in the year of the Lord 1155, at the false and wicked representation of King Henry of England, under whom and perhaps by whom St. Thomas of Canterbury, as you know, in that very year suffered death for justice and defence of the church, Pope Adrian, your predecessor, an Englishman not so much by birth as by feeling and character, did in fact, but unfairly, confer upon that same Henry (whom for his said offence he should rather have deprived of his own kingdom) this lordship of ours by a certain form of words, the course of justice entirely disregarded and the moral vision of that great pontiff blinded, alas! by his English proclivities. And thus, without fault of ours and without reasonable cause, he stripped us of our royal honour and gave us over to be rent by teeth more cruel than any beast’s; and those of us that escaped half-alive and woefully from the deadly teeth of crafty foxes and greedy wolves were thrown by violence into a gulf of doleful slavery.
For, from the time when in consequence of that grant the English iniquitously but with some show of religion entered within the limits of our kingdom, they have striven with all their might and with every treacherous artifice in their power, to wipe our nation out entirely and utterly to extirpate it. By base and deceitful craftiness they have prevailed against us so far that, with no authority from a superior, they have driven us by force from the spacious places where we dwelt and from the inheritance of our fathers; they have compelled us to seek mountains, woods, bogs, barren tracts and even caverns in the rocks to save our lives, and for a long time back to make our dwellings there like beasts. Yet even in such places as these they harass us continually and endeavour all they can to expel us from them and seek unduly to usurp to themselves every place we occupy, mendaciously asserting in their blind madness that there is to be no free abode for us in Ireland but that all the land is entirely theirs by right.
– Remonstrance of the Irish Chiefs to Pope John XXII, A.D. 1317.
Rebuilt in 1795-1796, the Argyll Mausoleum, standing in the church-yard of Kilmun Parish Church on its north-east side, is the burying-place of the Chiefs of the Clan Campbell. Twenty generations of chiefs, living over the last five hundred years, are buried here, the most recent being the Tenth Duke of Argyll, Niall Diarmid. The deteriorating structure contains mediæval burial effigies dating to the 1450s, which are thought to be the last remaining examples of such fine quality in Scotland.
St. Munn’s Parish Church is a Category A listed building occupying the summit of a slight knoll about eleven yards from the shoreline of the Holy Loch. The present building of 1841 is on the site of a mediæval parish church, endowed as a collegiate church in 1442 by Sir Duncan Campbell of Lochawe, and a tower of that period stands to the west of the existing church.