"'There is a soul just delivered from Purgatory!' It was found
to be a frog dressed in red flannel."
KIRWAN.
Florence having succeeded, as she imagined, in convincing her aunt
that it was advisable to remove from San Antonio, slowly proceeded to
the churchyard, little dreaming that the door had scarce closed behind
her ere Aunt Lizzy, with swift steps, directed her way to the house
of the Padre, He was writing, but gave his attention, and heard,
with ill-disguised chagrin, that Florence distrusted his promised
protection.
"Does she doubt in matters of faith, think you?" he eagerly inquired.
"Indeed, Padre, I cannot say. All I know is, that she and Mary sat
till midnight, reading and talking, and she has not seemed like
herself since."
"Where shall I find Florence?" said he, taking his hat.
"In the churchyard, I think, beside her father's grave."
"Say nothing to her, but apparently acquiesce in her plans; and, above
all, do not let her dream that you have told me these things."
Ah, Florence! who may presume to analyze the anguish of your tortured
heart as you throw yourself, in such abandonment of grief, on the tomb
of your lost parent? The luxuriant grass, swaying to and fro in the
chill October blast, well-nigh concealed the bent and drooping form,
as she knelt and laid her head on the cold granite.
"My father! oh, my father!" and tears, which she had not shed before,
fell fast, and somewhat eased the desolate, aching heart. Florence had
not wept before in many years; and now that the fountain was unsealed,
she strove not to repress the tears which seemed to lift and bear away
the heavy weight which had so long crushed her spirits.
What a blessing it is to be able to weep; and happy are they who can
readily give vent to tears, and thus exhaust their grief! Such
can never realize the intensity of anguish which other natures
suffer--natures to whom this great relief is denied, and who must keep
the withering, scorching agony pent up within the secret chambers of
their desolate, aching hearts. Sobs and tears are not for these. No,
no; alone and in darkness they must wrestle with their grief, crush it
down into their inmost soul, and with a calm exterior go forth to meet
the world. But ah! the flitting, wintry smile, the short, constrained
laugh, the pale brow marked with lines of mental anguish, will
ofttimes, tell of the smoldering ruin....
"My daughter, God has appointed me in place of the parent he has taken
hence; turn to me, and our most holy church, and you will find comfort
such as naught else can afford."
Florence sprung to her feet, and shuddered at the sound of his low,
soft voice. The Padre marked the shudder, and the uneasy look which
accompanied it: "Padre, I have confessed, and I have prayed to almost
every saint in the Calendar, and I have had your prayers in addition
to my own; yet I find no comfort. No joy has stolen to my heart, as
you promised it inevitably would."
"My daughter, if peace has not descended on thy spirit, I fear you
have not been devout. Tell me truly if you have not doubted in matters
of faith, for our most holy Mother ever grants the prayers of her
faithful and loving children?"
"I have searched the Bible, and I nowhere find authority for invoking
saints or the Virgin."
"I can convince you, without doubt, that there is such authority--nay,
command."
"'Tis useless, you may save yourself the trouble; for my mind is
clearly made up that we have not even the sanction of the Fathers."
"Holy Mary, pardon her unbelief, and send down light into her darkened
soul!"
Florence fixed her eyes full upon him, and replied--"Christ expressly
declares 'I am the light, I am the life.'"
"Daughter, your heretic cousin has done you a great injury. May God
protect you, and forgive her blasphemy."
"She needs no forgiveness, for she is pure in heart before God, and
truthful in all things."
The swarthy cheek of the Italian flushed--"Florence, you and your aunt
must come and stay at my house till it is safe here; and, I doubt not
when you are at leisure to hear me, you will duly repent your hasty
speeches. I shall pray God and our Lady to give you a more trusting,
believing heart, and intercede with the blessed saints for your entire
conversion."
"Not so, Father Mazzolin; we shall leave this place in a very few
days, and I have come to bid adieu to the grave of my father: leave
me, for I wish to be alone and in peace."
"Do you doubt my will or ability to protect you, my daughter? Beneath
my roof no danger can assail."
"We have fully decided to go from here, and further reasoning or
entreaty would be vain; accept, however, my thanks for your proffered
kindness."
"Girl, you have gone too far! Hear me while I am placable, for I tell
you now, without my consent, you cannot--shall not leave here."
"You have neither right nor power to detain me."
"Have I not? I swear, if you do not hear and abide by what I say,
your father's soul will remain forever in purgatory, where it justly
belongs."
"How dare you make so miserable a threat?" said the calm, clear voice
of Mary, who had approached unobserved.
"Cursed believer in a cursed creed, what do you here? Begone, or dread
the vengeance I shall surely inflict on so blasphemous and damnable a
heretic!"
Winding her arm tightly about Florence's waist, she
replied--"'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. I will repay;' and
though I have never injured you, Padre--even if I had, it ill becomes
a consecrated priest to utter such language, or so madly to give vent
to passion."
"Silence!" thundered the Padre, livid with rage; "I will compass
heaven and earth rather than you shall escape me."
"Come, Florry, this is no place for us now; even the churchyard is not
sacred. Come home."
"Florence, dare you curse your own father?" The girl's lips quivered,
but no sound came forth--she seemed stunned.
"You would usurp the prerogatives of Jehovah, Father Mazzolin; but
your threat is vain. You cannot bless or damn my uncle at will. How
dare you, guilty as you are, hold such impious language?"
For a moment he quailed before the calm, unflinching girl, then
seizing Florence's arm, hoarsely exclaimed: "One more chance I give
you. Florence, I am your brother--your father, my father. On his
death-bed he confessed his sins and discovered his son."
A deep groan burst from Florence's lips, and her slender frame
quivered like a reed in a wintry blast. The Padre laid his head on the
granite slab which covered the remains of Mr. Hamilton, and continued:
"I call God in heaven, and all the saints to witness the truth of what
I say, and if I prove it not, may I sink into perdition. When your
father was yet young, he made the tour of Europe. Traveling in Italy,
he met at Florence a poor but beautiful girl; and she, struck, in
turn, by the handsome face of the stranger, left her humble home,
and listened to the voice of seduction. He remained five months at
Florence, and then suddenly left Italy for his native country, without
apprising the unfortunate woman of his intentions. Hatred succeeded to
love, and she vowed vengeance. That woman was my mother; and when ten
years had passed, she told me my parentage, and made me swear on the
altar of her patron saint that I would fulfil her vow of vengeance.
She died, and I became a priest of Rome, and in time was sent by
my order to Mexico, and thence here to assist my aged and infirm
predecessor. I had in my possession a miniature of my father, and no
sooner had I met him here than I recognized the base being who had
deserted my mother. I kept my peace; but ere he died, he confessed
that one sin--heavier than everything beside--weighed on his
conscience. In the agony and remorse of that hour my mother was
revenged. I told my parentage, and he discovered his child. Feeling
that I was your brother, he bade you remain here, claim my protection,
and follow my advice. But, Florence, hear me--your misery touched my
heart; a kindred feeling for you made me desire to serve you; but I
swear now that if you hear not my voice, and return to the bosom
of our church, your father's soul shall linger in damnation, and my
vengeance shall follow you. You know not my power, and wo to you if
you defy me!"
Had the specter-form of the deceased, leaving the shadowy band of
the spirit-world, risen on the granite slab before them the two girls
could not have been more startled. Tightly they clung one to another,
their eyes riveted on the face of the Padre. There was a long pause;
then Florence lifted herself proudly up, and cold and haughty was her
tone: "It is not for me to deny your statement. If my father sinned,
peace to his memory, and may God forgive him. One so sinful and
malignant as yourself cannot be invested with divine prerogatives.
I have known your intentions with regard to myself since the hour
I knelt in confession. I was destined for a convent, and I tacitly
acquiesced in your plans, hoping that so secluded from the world I
should be comparatively happy; but my feelings are changed on many
points, and any further interference from you will be received with
the scorn it merits. No love for me actuates your movements, else you
would have spared me the suffering of this hour."
"You defy me, then?"
Florence had turned away, and heeded not his question; but Mary,
clasping her hands, looked appealingly in his face; "Oh, Padre, by the
tie which you declare exists between yourself and Florry--for the sake
of your lost parent--do not put your threat in execution. Spare an
unprotected orphan. You will not harm your sister!"
"Know you not, girl, that when a Jesuit priest takes the oath of his
order, he tears his heart from his breast and lays it at the feet of
his superior? Appeal not to ties of relationship: we repudiate them,
and pity is unknown among us."
With a shudder Mary joined her cousin, and rapidly and in perfect
silence they retraced their steps homeward. When they reached their
gate, Mary would have opened it, but her cousin, taking her hand, led
the way to their old seat beside the river.
Florence seated herself as near the water as possible, and then
tightly clasping the hand she held, asked in a voice of suppressed
emotion; "Tell me, Mary, is there a purgatory?"
"No, Florry; I think there is less foundation for that doctrine than
any advanced by your church."
"Mary, you speak truth, and all that you say I can implicitly believe.
Tell me what grounds support the theory?"
"You remember the words of our Saviour. 'All sin shall be forgiven,
save blasphemy of the Holy Ghost; that shall not be forgiven, either
in this world or the next.' Now Papists argue in this way: Then other
sins can be forgiven in another world; there is no sin in heaven, in
hell no forgiveness, consequently, there must exist a middle place,
or, in other words, a purgatory. Florry, you smile, yet I assure you I
have seen this advanced as unanswerable. In the book of Maccabees is a
very remarkable passage authorizing prayers for the dead, and on this
passage they build their theory and sanction their practise. Yet you
know full well it is one of the Apocryphal books rejected by the Jews,
because not originally written in their language. It was never quoted
by our Saviour, nor even received as inspired by your own church
till the Council of Trent, when it was admitted to substantiate the
doctrine of purgatory, and sanction prayers for the dead. I admit that
on this point St. Augustine's practise was in favor of it; though it
was only near the close of his long life that he speaks of the soul
of his mother. Yet already history informs us that the practise of
praying for the dead was gaining ground in the church, along with
image worship. St. Cyprian, who lived long before him, and during
a purer state of the church, leaves no doubt on our minds as to his
sentiments on this subject; his words are these: 'When ye depart
hence, there will be no room for repentance--no method of being
reconciled to God. Here eternal life is either lost or won. Here,
by the worship of God, and the fruit of faith, provision is made for
eternal salvation. And let no man be retarded, either by his sins or
years, from coming to obtain it. No repentance is too late while a man
remains in this world.' Our Saviour nowhere gives any encouragement
for such a doctrine. On the contrary, he said to the dying thief:
'This day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.' I know of no other
argument which Papists advance in favor of their darling theory, save
the practise of the latter Fathers of their church."
"Mary, I cannot believe this doctrine, without further proof of Divine
sanction."
"Indeed, Florry, I know of no other reason in its favor, and have long
supposed it a system of extortion in connection with indulgences, now
used, only as a means of gain by the dissolute clergy of the Romish
faith. I need scarcely say, that the abuse of this latter doctrine
drove Luther to reformation. It is a well-known fact, that in the 16th
century, Tetzel, a Dominican monk high in his order, drove through
Germany in a wagon, containing two boxes--one holding indulgences,
the other the money received for them. You will smile, Florry, when I
repeat a translation of the German lines Written on the outside of the
latter box:
"'When in this chest the money rings,
The soul straight up to heaven springs.'"
Yet the boldness and audacity of his general language was quite in
accordance: 'Indulgences,' said he, 'are the most precious of God's
gifts. I would not exchange my privileges for those of St. Peter in
heaven; for I have saved more souls with my indulgences than he with
all his sermons. There is no sin so great that the indulgence will not
remit it. Even repentance is not necessary. Indulgences save the dead;
for the very moment the money chinks against the bottom of this chest,
the soul escapes from purgatory, and flies to heaven,'
"Yet this inquisitor was high in favor with Pope Leo X. You will
say, Florry, that the abuse of a doctrine should be no test of its
soundness; and I admit that had he received the punishment he so
richly merited it would not; yet this is only one instance among
many. We have conversed on the doctrines of the Romish faith merely as
theories, should we not now look at the practise? We need not go very
far. When Aunt Fanny expressed surprise on seeing our Mexican shepherd
eat meat last Friday, did he not reply in extenuation, 'I have paid
the priest and can eat meat'? Now if it was necessary for him to
abstain previously, could the small sum paid to the Padre exempt him
from the duty? Again we see the working of the system: was not Herrara
scrupulously exact on the same point? yet he rose from the table and
told a most positive lie. With regard to indulgences, there is not
a Papist who will admit that they are a license to sin. The voice of
history declares that 'a regular scale for absolution was graded,' and
the fact is authenticated by a recent traveler, who asserts that
in the chancel of Santa Croce, at Rome, is hung a catalogue of the
indulgences granted to all who worship in that church. Yet your
priests will tell you they are the remission of sins already
committed. Did not Herrara say, 'I have paid the Padre and can eat
meat'? Now I ask you if this is not a license to commit what would
otherwise be considered a heinous offense by all devout Papists?"
"Relying implicitly on what the Padre asserted, Mary, I have never
investigated these subjects as I should have done, before giving my
credence and support; but of the doctrine in question I can henceforth
entertain but one opinion--a detestable and infamous method of filling
the papal coffers; for since you have led me to think on this subject,
I clearly remember that a large portion of the enormous expense
incurred by the building, ornamenting, and repairing of St. Peter's,
was defrayed by money obtained through the sale of indulgences.
Oh, Mary, how could I have been so deluded--allowed myself to be so
deceived!" She took from her pocket the rosary and crucifix which had
been given to her father, and threw them impatiently into the river
gurgling at her feet.
"The perfect harmony with which the entire system works is
unparalleled in the civil, religious, or political annals of the
world. A complete espionage is exercised in papal countries, from the
Adriatic to the Californian gulf. And the greater portion of this is
accomplished by means of the confessional. The Superior at Rome
can become, at pleasure, as perfectly conversant with your domestic
arrangements, and the thousand incidents which daily occur, as you or
I, who are cognizant of them. To what is all this tending? Ah,
Florry, look at the blood-stained records of the past. The voices of
slaughtered thousands, borne to us across the waste of centuries, bid
us remember the Duke of Alva, the Albigensian crusade, the massacre of
St. Bartholomew, and the blazes of Smithfield. Ignatius Loyola! happy
would it have been for millions lost, and millions yet to be, hadst
thou perished at the siege of Pampeluna. Florry, contrast Italy and
Germany, Spain and Scotland, and look at Portugal, and South America,
and Mexico, and oh, look at this benighted town! A fairer spot by
nature the face of earth cannot boast; yet mark the sloth, the penury,
the degradation of its people, the misery that prevails. And why?
Because they languish under the iron rule of the papal see--iron,
because it admits of no modification. Entire supremacy over both body
and soul, or total annihilation of their power. May the time speedily
come when they shall spurn their oppressors, and trample their yoke
in the dust, as their transatlantic brethren will ultimately do. Oh,
Florry, does not your heart yearn toward benighted Italy? Italy, once
so beautiful and noble--once the acknowledged mistress of the world,
as she sat in royal magnificence enthroned on her seven hills; now a
miserable waste, divided between petty sovereigns, and a by-word for
guilt and degradation! The glorious image lies a ruin at our feet: for
the spirit that gave beauty and strength, and shed a halo of splendor
round its immortal name, has fled afar, perhaps forever; banished
by the perfidious system of Papacy--that sworn foe to liberty,
ecclesiastical or political.
"How incomprehensible the apathy with which the English regard the
promulgation of Puseyism in their church! It is stealing silently but
swiftly to the very heart of their ecclesiastical institutions,
and total subversion will ultimately ensue. That Americans should
contemplate without apprehension the gradual increase of papal power
is not so astonishing, for this happy land has never groaned beneath
its iron sway. But that the descendants of Latimer and of Ridley, of
Hooper and of Cranmer, should tamely view the encroachments of this
monster hydra, is strange indeed. Do not imagine, Florry, that I doubt
the sincerity of all who belong to the Church of Rome. I know and
believe that there are many earnest and conscientious members--of this
there cannot be a doubt; yet it is equally true, that the most
devoted Papists are to be found among the most ignorant, bigoted,
and superstitious of men. The masses of your church are deceived with
pretended miracles and wondrous legends, such as the one currently
reported respecting the holy house of Loretto, which seems so
migratory, and flies hundreds of miles in a night. These marvelous
tales are credited by the uneducated; yet no enlightened man or woman
of the present age, who has fully investigated this subject, can say
with truth that they conscientiously believe the doctrines of the
Romish Church to be those taught by our Saviour, or its practises in
accordance with the general tenor of the Bible. This may seem a
broad assertion, yet none who calmly consider the subject in all its
bearings, and consult the page of history, will pronounce it a hasty
one."
"Yet remember, Mary, that the sect in question is proverbial for
charitable institutions. One vital principle is preserved. Surely
this is a redeeming virtue. Catholics are untiring in schemes of
benevolence and philanthropy."
"You will start, and perhaps condemn me, when I reply, that their
boasted charity is but the mask behind which they disseminate the
doctrines of the Romish Church. I may appear very uncharitable in
the expression of this opinion; yet hear me, Florry; facts are
incontrovertible. If you will think a moment, you cannot fail to
remember Patrick, the porter at our friend Mrs. D----'s. Having
received a dangerous wound in his foot, he was sent to the hospital,
where several of the nurses were Sisters of Charity. He remained
nearly a month, and on his return related to Mrs. D----, in my
presence, some of the circumstances of his long illness. His words
made a lasting impression on my mind:
"'Indeed, and I am glad enough to come home, ma'am; for never was I
treated worse in my life. The first week Sister Agnes, who nursed
in my room, was kind and tender as could be, and thought I, if ever
angels come to earth, this good woman is one; but I can tell ye I did
not think so long: she read some saints' lives to us, and asked me if
I was a Catholic. I said no, I was no Catholic. Then she tried every
way to make me one, and told me if I refused I would surely die and go
to purgatory. Faith! the more she talked that way the more I wouldn't
be a Catholic; and then she just let me alone, and not another thing
would she do for me. I might call from then till now, and never a step
would she come, or nurse me a bit. It is no good care of hers that has
brought me back alive and well: I tell you, Sister Agnes won't do for
any but Catholics.'
"Florry, is such charity akin to that taught by the Bible? Catholics
boast of their asylums; and by means of fairs and suppers, large
amounts are annually collected for the support of these numerous
institutions. I have been told by a directress of a Protestant orphan
asylum, that on one occasion a squalid woman, accompanied by two boys,
presented herself and entreated that her children might be received
into the asylum. The unhappy mother informed the directress that she
was a Roman Catholic, and had claimed the protection of her own sect;
but, said she, tearfully, 'Indeed I had no money to pay for their
entrance, and they refused to take my children.'
"Such, Florry, is their boasted charity; and I might add, their lives
are little in accordance with the spirit inculcated by our Saviour,
who said, 'When ye do your alms, let not your left hand know what your
right hand doeth.' There are thousands who daily dispense charities
of various kinds; yet they do not term themselves Sisters of Charity;
neither promenade the streets in a garb so antiquated and peculiar
as to excite attention, or elicit encomiums on their marvelously holy
lives and charitable deeds. Do not suppose, Florry, because I speak
thus, that I doubt the sincerity of all who enroll themselves as
Sisters. I do believe that there are many pious and conscientious
women thus engaged; yet they are but tools of the priests, and by them
placed in these institutions for the purpose of making proselytes."
A pause ensued, and Florence paced slowly along the bank. Somewhat
abruptly she replied:
"Yet you will admit, Mary, that we owe much to the monks, by whose
efforts light and knowledge were preserved during the dark ages? But
for them every vestige of literature, every record of the past, would
inevitably have been lost."
"Tell me, Florry, what caused the dark ages? Was it not the gradual
withdrawal of light and knowledge--the crushing, withering influence
exerted on the minds of men? And tell me if this influence was not
wielded by the priests of Rome--corrupted, fallen Rome? During the
dark period in question, papal power was at its height; the thunders
of the Vatican were echoed from the Adriatic to the Atlantic--from the
Mediterranean to the North Sea. An interdict of its profligate Pope
clothed cities, and kingdoms, and empires in mourning; the churches
were closed, the dead unburied, and no rite, save that of baptism,
performed. Ignorance and superstition reigned throughout the world;
and it is said, that in the ninth century scarce a person was to
be found in Rome itself who knew even the alphabet. Yet monasteries
crowned every eminence, and dotted the vales of southern Europe. The
power of the priesthood was supreme. Florry, I do admit that what
remained of light and learning was hid in the cell of the anchorite;
not disseminated, but effectually concealed. They forgot our Saviour's
injunction--'Let your light shine before men.' Oh! Florry, did not the
teachers of the dark ages put their light under a bushel? Dark ages
will ever follow the increase of papal power. It is part of their
system to keep the masses in ignorance. How truly it has been said
that Rome asked but one thing, and that Luther denied her--'A fulcrum
of ignorance on which to rest that lever by which she can balance the
world.' They dare not allow their people light and knowledge; and what
to others was indeed a dark age, is regarded by the priests of Rome as
a golden season. Can you point to a single papal country which is not
enveloped in the black cloud of superstition and crime? To Italy, and
Spain, and Portugal, the dark ages have not passed away; neither will
they, till liberty of conscience is allowed, and the Bible permitted
in the hands of the laity. Under papal rule, those unfortunate nations
will never rise from their degradation; for their masters and teachers
'love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil.'
It has often been said by those who fail properly to consider this
subject, that the Roman Catholic schools and colleges which abound in
the United States are far superior to similar Protestant institutions.
Why do not these very superior teachers disseminate knowledge at
home? Why do they not first enlighten the Spaniards ere they cross the
Atlantic to instruct American pupils? The ignorance of Neapolitans
is proverbial; yet Naples is the peculiarly favored city of Romanism.
Tell me why these learned professors do not teach their own people?
Florry, papal institutions in America are but branches of the
Propaganda. They but come to proselyte. I have heard it repeatedly
averred of a certain nunnery, 'that no efforts were made to affect the
religious views of the pupils.' Yet I know that such is not the case.
They are far too politic openly to attack the religion; yet
secretly it is undermined. I will tell you how, Florry, for you look
wonderingly at me. Prizes are awarded for diligence, and application;
and these prizes are books, setting forth in winning language the
doctrines of their church. I have seen one of these which was given
to M---- K----, and I also read it most carefully. It was titled
'Alethea; or, a Defense of Catholic Doctrines.' Yet most indignantly
they deny any attempts toward proselyting the pupils intrusted to
their care."
"Who will deny the truth of your statements, Mary! Yet, if such are
the facts, how can the world be so utterly ignorant of, or indifferent
to them? Strange that they can thus regard a subject so fraught with
interest to every lover of liberty--to every patriot."
"Florry, Papists are unacquainted with these things; for, begirt with
darkening, crushing influence, they are effectually secluded from even
a wandering ray of light on this subject. The avenue through which all
information is conveyed at the present day is barred to them. Books
are denied to the Catholic laity. You may ask how this is effected in
this enlightened and liberal age. The prelates of Rome, who long ago
resorted to ignorance as their bulwark, are ever on the alert. No
sooner is a new publication announced, than it is most carefully
perused by them; and if calculated to point out the fallacy of their
doctrines, or depict their abuse of power, a papal bull is forthwith
issued, prohibiting all Catholics from reading the heretical book.
The writings of the prince of novelists, Walter Scott, which are
universally read by other sects, are peremptorily refused to all
Papists. And why? Because many of his darts are aimed at their
profligate priesthood. Now if, as they tell their people, these are
but slanderous attacks on their religion, surely the shafts would fall
harmless on the armor of truth. Why then so strenuously oppose their
reading such works? Florry, the trite adage, 'Truth is the hardest of
all to bear,' is applicable to these prelates of papacy; who, knowing
their danger, are fully resolved to guard the avenues of light and
knowledge. The Pope of imperial Rome, surrounded as he is with luxury,
magnificence, and hosts of scarlet-liveried cardinals, who stand in
readiness to convey his mandates to the remotest corners of the earth,
has been made to tremble on his throne by the pen of feeble woman. The
truthful delineations of Charlotte Elizabeth startled his Holiness
of the Vatican, and the assistant conclave of learned cardinals are
trembling lest their laity of the Green Isle should catch a glimpse
of light. A bull was quickly fulminated against her heretical
productions. Alas! when, when will the Romish Church burst the iron
bands which begirt her?
"The world at large--I mean the world as composed of Protestants,
latitudinarians, politicians, statesmen, and fashionable dunces,
are in a great measure acquainted with these facts; but knowing the
rapidly increasing power of papal Rome, and the vast influence already
wielded in this happy land by its priesthood, they prefer to float
along with the tide, rather than vigorously resist this blasting
system of ignorance, superstition, and crime which, stealthily
approaching from the east and from the west, will unite and crush the
liberties of our glorious Republic. As patriots, they are called on
to oppose strenuously its every encroachment--yet they dare not; for
should they venture to declaim against its errors, they endanger
their popularity and incur the risk of defeat at an ensuing election.
Florry, I was once conversing on this subject with a lady who had
recently visited Europe, and inquired of her if she had not marked the
evils and abuses which existed in the papal dominions through which
she traveled. She whisperingly replied--'Certainly, my dear, I could
not fail to mark the ignorance and degradation which prevailed, but
I never speak of it, because, you know, it makes one very unpopular,'
Here, Florry, you have the clew to the mystery. Americans quietly
contemplate this momentous subject, and silently view the abuses which
are creeping into our communities, because if they expose them, it is
at the hazard of becoming unpopular,"
"Mary, can I ever, ever forget that hour in the churchyard?" Florence
sadly said, as they rose and proceeded to the house. "Oh! it seems
branded on my brain; yet I must cast this new grief from me, for
enough of anguish was mine before. Still I feel that there is a path
just ahead, and it seems lighted up. But a slight barrier intervenes,
and when that is passed all will be well. Pray for me, Mary, that I
may be enabled to lead the life of a Christian, and at last die the
death of the righteous."
Clasping tightly the hand which rested in her own, Mary replied:
"While life remains, it shall indeed be my prayer that you may be
blessed on earth, and rewarded in heaven. Oh, Florry, I thank God that
the scales have fallen from your eyes, and that truth shines brightly
before you." She stopped suddenly, and pressed her hand to her side,
while the pale brow wrinkled with pain.
"I have been talking too much, there is a suffocating sensation here."
"It is only momentary, I hope."
Mary shook her head, and smiled sadly: "I don't know, Florry; I have
felt strangely of late."
That evening as the household were busily preparing for their intended
departure, Dr. Bryant abruptly entered, and informed them, with a
clouded brow, that removal was impossible, as he could not procure a
pair of horses for any price.
"It is perfectly unaccountable what has possessed the Mexican from
whom I purchased as many as I thought necessary. We agreed as to
price, and they were to be sent this afternoon; but about two hours
ago, he came to me, and declared that he had changed his mind, and
would not part with them. I offered double the original amount, but he
said money was no inducement. I strove to borrow or hire for any
given time, but every proposal was peremptorily declined, and as it is
impossible to leave here, I came over to entreat you to remain with
my sister, at least for a few days, till we can determine what is
advisable to do."
His proposal was accepted, and the ensuing day saw them inmates of
Mrs. Carlton's.