THE FRUITS OF THE CROSS.
Paul was now a free man, the term of apprenticeship having expired. It
was his right now, according to the terms of the implied contract, not
only to receive support and clothing, but wages; and Mr. Prying was very
willing to keep him in the house and give him a man's wages; but this
conflicted with Amanda's plan and that of her advisers; consequently,
Paul was reluctantly obliged to part with the society of his sister
Bridget, who had yet a part of her term to serve, and to look out among
the neighboring farmers for a situation. This he soon found in a
gentleman's family named Clarke, who was very glad to receive such a
modest and intelligent young man into his family. This Mr. Clarke was
not a farmer by profession, but a lawyer, and editor of a daily journal
in the capital of Vermont, and only spent a few days in the summer and
fall with his family at the farm. Paul's chief occupation was to attend
young Master Clarke in his sports of fishing, fowling, and riding on
horseback. The duties of his present situation afforded Paul not only
time and leisure to keep up his accustomed religious exercises, but, in
addition, he was able to revise what he had previously studied, and to
add considerably to his stock of useful knowledge. The equal terms and
familiarity in which he stood in his relation with his young employer
afforded him an opportunity of revising Virgil, Sallust, Lucian, and
other classical authors, the use of which he was so long obliged to
discontinue.
Mr. Clarke was delighted when he learned from his son that Paul knew
Greek and Latin much better than his former teacher in the academy. And
this information he knew to be correct, from the fact that he found his
son had learned more during vacation, in company with Paul, than he did
during the whole year before in college. He therefore advanced Paul's
wages by one-third, and prolonged his son's stay in the country beyond
the usual period. This generous and kind-hearted man was also sensibly
affected when Paul, at his request, related how he came to know Latin;
how he was nephew of the grand vicar of Kil----; how he had spent five
years in college; how his father was obliged to emigrate with his
family; how he had died on the voyage; how they were robbed of a
thousand pounds; how his mother sunk under her trials; how he and his
brethren were kidnapped out hither; how the priest of T---- had
advertised for them; and how, "I suppose," said he, "they gave us up in
despair; thinking, probably, that we were lost in some of the late
steamboat disasters; but here we are yet, thank God!"
Mr. Clarke, with the instinct of a true-hearted Yankee, immediately saw
into the snare laid for the faith of the young orphans; and he thanked
his God mentally that he had come to the knowledge of these facts, for
he was the man to expose and reprobate such foul play. "I now well
remember, Paul," said he, "the advertisements respecting you and your
brothers and sister. I shall see to this business, I promise you. In the
meantime, be you and Joe good friends. Don't spend too much time at
fishing and gunning, but study a good deal. Good-by, Joe, my son.
Good-by, Paul. I shall soon return again to see you."
Paul took every favorable opportunity to visit his sister and brothers,
to console and strengthen them against the temptations to which he knew
they were exposed.
"Now, Patsy, my boy," he said to the elder of his younger brothers,
"every time you look at that cross--show it to me--have you lost it?"
"No, sir-ee; I never put it off my neck since mother put it on," said
Patrick, pulling it out of his bosom.
"Every time you look at that crucifix," continued Paul, "think how our
Lord God Himself suffered; how, when he was a boy like you, he was good,
obeyed his parents, and was subject to them. Now, you have no parents
here but one, the Catholic Church; and if you obey not her counsels and
precepts, you will not be rewarded by Christ, whose image you wear
around your neck. Say the Six Precepts of the Church for me, Pat."
"First. I am the Lord thy God--"
"Oh, Pat, you are saying the ten commandments of God. Your little
brother Eugene can say _them_. I examined you in these before."
"Oh, I forgot. 1st. To hear Mass on Sundays and holy days of obligation.
2d. To fast and abstain on the days commanded. 3d. To confess our sins
at least once a year. 4th. To receive communion at Easter. 5th. To
contribute to the support of our pastors. 6th. Not to solemnize marriage
within forbidden degrees, nor clandestinely."
"The first precept, Patrick, we cannot keep here, as we are not near the
church. But the second, 'to abstain on the days commanded,' we can keep.
Do you ever eat meat on Friday, Pat?"
"Never but once, through mistake," said Pat. "I thought it was Thursday.
Mr. Prying is always wanting me to eat it every day, and so was a
gentleman whom he called the _priest_,--sure he is not a right priest,
is he, Paul?"
"Not at all, Pat; he is only a Protestant minister."
"A minister!" said Pat, in astonishment. "Why did they call him a
priest? He wanted me and Eugene to eat meat on Friday; but I said I
could not, it would make me sick. Then Mrs. Prying told him to let me
be; that she could not allow any interference with our religion; and
since that, the minister never returned to our house, or nobody said a
word about it. I think she is very good. She often cries when she hears
me and Eugene speaking of father and mother, God rest their souls!
Paul," said Pat, introducing a new subject, "ain't there a hell to
punish the wicked, as well as a heaven to reward the good?"
"Certainly, Pat; does not the Catechism say so?"
"Yes, but yesterday, Cassius Prying tried to persuade me that there was
no hell. He said all would go to heaven, in the end. I told him it was
no such thing. He said the minister said so."
"Oh, Patrick, my boy, beware of Cassius; you must not listen to his
talk, for it is wicked. God tells us there is a hell, and we must
believe all he teaches us by his church and his word, or we will be
condemned to hell forever."
"Oh, the Lord save us! I won't hear to Cassius no more."
"That's a good boy, Patsy; mind to watch Eugene, and make him do as you
do. We will all soon be going home to uncle's, please God."
"How soon, Paul? I am tired of being in 'Merica."
"Very soon, please God. Good-by, and be good: learn this, the eighth
chapter of the Catechism, next."
"I will, Paul, with God's help."
This is the way Paul, our hero, took care of the responsibility God had
thrown on his tender shoulders at the age of fifteen. Never did
missionary or priest labor, by prayer, and prudence, and anxiety, to
save souls to Christ, as Paul did to save his brothers. He was to them
the true Joseph, who not only kept their bodies from starving, but
preserved their souls from a worse than Egyptian captivity. And not only
did his exertions produce the desired effect on the immediate objects of
his solicitude, but God added as the reward of his zeal other souls,
"not of this fold."
Old uncle Jacob was all but disconsolate at the loss of Paul. He was his
bed-fellow for years, and every night and morning was witness of his
piety and punctuality in prayer. And although poor uncle Jacob himself
had long since learned to doubt of all forms of faith, he could not be
indifferent to the example set him by Paul's steady devotion. The poor
old man, besides, led a very innocent life, and the grace of God had few
obstacles to contend with in its influx into his empty but innocent
soul. He was often heard to say in presence of even Mr. Gulmore, the
minister, and Amanda, who might be called the female parson, that, if
any religion was worth having, it was that one which made Paul so
victorious in his arguments, and so pure and pious in his conduct. "That
was the young one," said uncle, his voice trembling with feeling, for he
loved Paul as a son, "that was the child that deserved to be called one;
that knowed what he owed to God, and man too."
"He was as cunning as a fox, and as full of the spirit of Popery as an
egg is of meat," said Mr. Grinoble bitterly.
"I know him to be as innocent as a dove," said uncle Jacob, warmly, "and
believe him to be as full of the Spirit of God as Samuel was in the
temple. There, now."
"Then, uncle Jacob, I see you are beginning to believe in the Bible,"
sarcastically added the parson. "I am glad to find your mind inclined in
that way. I hope you will soon get religion and the change of heart."
"I hope and pray to the Lord," said the old man, in a voice little
removed from that of one in tears, "to change my heart, and give me
religion, as I now believe there is such a thing on earth. But, Mr.
Grinoble, your hard and cruel religion, I trust, shall never be mine.
God forbid! _It_ will never change my heart."
"Uncle, don't you talk that way," said Amanda. "This is very unpleasant.
Take no notice of him, sir," said she, addressing the parson, who
appeared to be disconcerted at this pointed attack of uncle Jacob.
"Amanda, I will talk so, I must talk so," said poor uncle, rising. "How
can ye reconcile it to religion, to justice, or to charity, the snares
and plots laid by you, miss, in company with those _men of God_, to rob
that poor child Paul, and his little sister and brothers, of their
ancient, noble, and holy religion? Fie, fie, fie! Is it such conduct you
call religion? It is the very reverse. It resembled more the conduct of
the serpent in paradise, than that of the meek disciples of Jesus
Christ. It was more like the religious profession of Herod, to get the
Child at Bethlehem into his clutches, than anything else we read of,
your conduct was. There is more Bible for you, Mr. Grinoble," said he,
slamming the door after him, and retiring to his room.
"'Tis not much use attempting to convert such an old hardened sinner,"
said Grinoble, smothering his mortification at the rebuff of uncle
Jacob.
"That Paul has ruined him," said Amanda. "I would not be a bit
surprised if he died a Papist yet."
"Sure you would not let the Popish priest visit him, on any account?"
said the tolerant parson.
"I fear pa would, for you know uncle Jacob left him this farm, and more
than half what he possesses in money and stock. Come, tea is ready."
Poor uncle Prying, as we have said already, was the senior brother of
Ephraim and Reuben Prying, and was now about seventy-two years of age.
During the last twenty years of his life he labored under a slight
asthmatic affection, which lately increased in violence, and, joined
with a disease of the liver, which physicians said he suffered from, now
seriously endangered his life. Since he was eighteen years old, Mr.
Jacob Prying never went inside a meeting-house or professed any
religion; a conclusion which he partly was drove to by the hypocrisy of
a certain minister in his neighborhood, who wanted to have Mr. Jacob
married to a daughter of his, who, two days before the marriage, he
found out, accidentally, had been seduced by an ex-senator in Boston.
This piece of deception on the part of the religious teacher, and the
treachery of the _maid_ herself, so disgusted Jacob Prying, that he
registered a vow in heaven that he never again would allow himself to
become the victim of hypocrisy or of female dissimulation. The parsons,
all round, because he was proof against their transparent baits, to fill
their meeting-houses, cried him down as an infidel, whose heart was
hardened, and who despised the Bible. Uncle Jacob never attempted to
dispel the prejudices raised against him by the malice of despised
dominies; but his heart refuted their lies, for it was open to every
noble and humane influence, and, above all, undefiled from the
corruption of the world. Hence, in his hour of sickness, in his hour of
trial and need, the Almighty rewarded him for his natural good parts,
and sent His angel to conduct him, by the simple means herein recorded,
to the bosom of that holy religion, outside which there is nothing but
bitterness and woe, and without which "it is impossible to please God."
Knowing the nature of the enemies he had to contend with, poor Mr. Jacob
Prying was silent on the subject of his religious doubts till the advent
of Paul to the farm. Like the ancient noble Roman, who, under the garb
of folly, concealed his profound heroic wisdom, uncle Jacob was content
to be called an infidel and unbeliever, so that he might preserve his
heart undefiled, and ready for that precious pearl "of great price"
which his heart sighed for, and which he was about now to receive;
becoming, in his latter days, a further illustration of the Divine
narrative that "God adds daily to the Church those who are to be saved."