But Cornelia's unfettered stream of eloquence would not allow itself to
be repressed. "You go into the cloister, not because you have
conquered, but because you fear to yield; you go there to fly from the
battle, not to rest after the victory; but that which would have caused
the conflict here will go with you, will disturb the peace of your
devout solitude; and you must conquer it with anguish there as well as
here, can succumb to it in the narrow convent-cell as well as in God's
wide world."
Severinus's broad breast heaved painfully. "Oh, God! my God! let me
withstand this last trial!" he prayed, fervently. "Cornelia, I do not
retreat to the cloister on account of the danger, but to fly from the
evil I abhor; that I may no longer see the world that stands between me
and heaven, which I hate----"
"The world to you is mankind; if you detest the former it is for the
sake of the latter. But why? What have men done to you? You are a
servant of Christ. Does this humanity, which Christ so loved that he
suffered and bled for it, deserve your love less than the Master's? Why
do you scorn the race whose form a God did not hesitate to assume,--for
which a God bore the tortures of life and death? Has it injured you
more than him? It has not pressed upon your brow the crown of thorns;
it has not nailed you to the cross; and yet he could forgive, while you
cannot!"
"A God might do this,--but I am a man!"
"And do you know why you hate mankind? Because you dare not love like a
human being. You curse your own earthly nature, because it always
opposes your task. You are a man, and would fain be a god; you have
human passions, and desire to practice a divine self-sacrifice. This is
the fatality of your position, this the foul fiend you fear! Oh, I know
my words fall upon you as the surges dash against a rock, but it seems
as if a higher power urged me on to struggle again and again against
the unhappy errors of your church!"
"Cornelia," cried Severinus, starting up, "my church does not err,--she
is infallible!"
"But, I tell you, it is an error that Christ has required of his
priests what the church demands from you. If Christ was God, it is
presumption for you mortals to imitate his divine person, and attempt
to give the world an example of what you do not attain yourselves. You
are merely to announce it and show it in all its beauty in yourselves.
But how can you do this,--shut off from life behind convent walls? Only
when, like our ministers, in real life, before the eyes of a whole
parish, oppressed by the same anxieties, pursued by the same enemies,
assailed by the same temptations as all, you can practice the virtues
you preach, will you become a true representative of the Christian
religion, will you have a right to require of others what was not too
difficult for yourself, and be what Christ desires, a true, perfect
man!"
Severinus hastily approached the door: his whole manner betrayed tokens
of violent emotion. "I dare not listen to you longer, terrible,
dangerous woman! God sees my anguish that I cannot save your soul, make
your noble powers useful to the good cause. In you all the hostile
powers of the world assume a bodily form; in you I have convinced
myself that I am no match for them, and only the repentance of a whole
life can atone for the weakness!"
"Must I, then, lose you forever?"
"Forever! But my prayers will be with you,--implore the protection of
the Holy Virgin for you." His voice trembled. "God cannot let such a
soul go to destruction!" He turned and, with averted face, opened the
door.
Then Cornelia's sincere affection burst forth in all its fervor; she
rushed up to him, threw her arms around his neck, and with childlike
contrition laid her head upon his breast. "Will you go without a
farewell?" she cried, sobbing. "Ah, Severinus, a deep, inexpressible
pity for you overwhelms me! Poor, noble man, I loved you so dearly!"
Severinus stood as if a thunderbolt had struck him; he did not move a
finger, did not clasp Cornelia to his heart or push her from him. But
suddenly a cry of anguish burst from his compressed lips, so full of
torture that Cornelia's very soul was filled with terror, and she no
longer ventured to detain him when, as if driven by some mortal dread,
he hurried away.
Late at night, before she went to rest, she saw him wandering about in
the storm and rain, and before dawn he entered the carriage which bore
him away from Cornelia forever. He traveled without pausing until he
reached Rome, where he delivered the papers to the General; confessed,
resigned his office, and entered the Casa al Gesu as a monk, to atone
by the strictest seclusion for the crime of being a man.