Edmond intended visiting the valleys under pretext of inquiring after
and purchasing an estate and castle in the district, that were
abandoned by the owner, and now for sale. He had become acquainted with
an aged secular priest, who dwelt in a beautifully situated village of
a charming valley, and his companion had under other pretences taken up
his quarters in a neighbouring village. As Edmond wandered solitarily
through the enchanting landscape, for the purpose of acquainting
himself with its conveniences, his heart became oppressed as he
struggled to know if the object, that led him hither might in itself be
a good, whether it might be a justifiable one. "Shall I," said he to
himself, "bring war into these peaceful valleys, where hitherto no
noise of arms has ever resounded? Here the monsters still slumber,
which we are going to awaken, in order to provide victims even in these
communes for their grim jaws." He quieted his perturbed feelings with
the thought, that without his assistance the royalists would march
hither, for the purpose of entangling and, if possible, extirpating his
new brethren from this part of the country, which was almost wholly in
the possession of Catholic inhabitants.
His host, the Catholic priest, was a very little grey-haired man, who,
with just as old and amiable a housekeeper lived under the vines and
olive trees, that shaded his dwelling so quietly and peaceably, that
Edmond on his first entrance was involuntarily reminded of the fable of
Philemon and Baucis. He could not divest himself of the idea, that in
this habitation the earliest and dearest recollections of his childhood
were hovering round him, he was confounded at himself, that his wrath,
his burning, religious zeal seemed here nearly exhausted, he was almost
obliged to confess that it was forgotten. He meditated and dreamed in
the rustling of the trees, by the murmuring of the little waterfall,
how softly his soul melted away, and his resolution, like that of
Rinaldo's in the enchanted garden of Armida, lost all its strength.
When he could not regain his former energy in his waking dreams, as he
strolled by the side of the brook, he called it the stream of oblivion,
where he now enjoyed the vernal gales and flower breathing elysium and
in Lethe separating himself for ever from the world of strife and
suffering.
The clergyman had also received the youth with the greatest cordiality;
whenever Edmond returned from his rambles, such pleasure beamed on the
countenance of the old man, that the stranger felt himself bound to his
host by kindliness and emotion. The latter frequently examined him
fixedly and as if he had known him already at an earlier period, and
then sank into a reverie as if he could not connect his recollections.
"My dear Chevalier de Valmont," (thus Edmond had named himself)
commenced the old man on the second day, as they sat at table, "the
longer you are with me, the greater pleasure do I experience in your
society. An extraordinary resemblance to an old friend almost compels
me to treat you as a beloved brother, nay, I may say as a son. It is
long since any stranger has visited me in my solitude, here I learn but
little of the world, and that is why such a visit as yours is so
acceptable to me." "I too am delighted with your society," replied
Edmond, "and I ask myself not without sadness, wherefore it should not
be granted to man to spend his days in peaceful quiet, elevated and
instructed by nature, enlivened and comforted by the simplest and most
delightful enjoyments."
"Perhaps this will be your fate my good sir." answered the priest with
vivacity, "perhaps we may then see each other very often and
confidentially, if you should only, become the possessor of yonder
castle, which is scarcely half a league distant from hence."
"And," said Edmond hesitatingly,--"if the war should rush down here
also? should this castle, this house here be consumed in flames? Where
is safety in our times?" "The Lord will protect us replied the priest,
as he has done heretofore." "And should he confer victory on the foes?"
"His will be done," prayed the old man, "for his decree is wisdom, he
is just and good, and with his might dwells love." "It almost appears,"
said Edmond surprised, "that you will not be disinclined to grant
victory to the rebels; at least you express yourself so mildly, that I
do not recognise in you the Catholic, as zealous for his religion as,
however, he ought to be."
"Let us not misunderstand each other," replied the priest, "I only
mean, that I surrender myself intirely, wholly, and unconditionally to
the will of my Lord, and resign the reins to him without murmuring, or
contending. But I love my religion, I am thoroughly imbued with it, and
on that very account be it far from me to banish these poor deluded
ones and to call down a curse upon their heads."
"You are thus a worthy servant of your religion," answered Edmond, "and
deserve that the enlightening should be made manifest to you."
The venerable man looked smilingly on the youth and said: "You have now
betrayed yourself young gentleman,--do not blush," continued he in the
mildest tone, "fear nothing from me; you are not the less welcome to me
on that account. Perhaps we shall understand, when we have learnt to
know each other and perhaps not; but you shall ever remain my beloved
guest, may become also my friend, although it may happen that I should
blame your enthusiasm, or your fanaticism. How many worthy, noble,
truly inspired, loving minds have I also known among the Huguenots and
how many harsh and pitiless ones in my own church. It is now indeed a
woeful time in our country, and moreover, we see as yet no end to the
misery."
Edmond had recovered from his surprise and embarrassment, and said: "Is
it though right, to remain thus indifferent and irresolute as you
appear to me to be? Yet, perhaps, at a later period of life I shall
also feel thus, for my father, to my sorrow, spoke almost as you do."
"You do not know me yet," answered the priest, "and I may well assert,
without pretention, that sentence ought not to be pronounced so hastily
and so readily on a man, who has had such experience of himself and of
the world, who has reflected and really lived. In religious affairs
particularly, my brain whirls in agony, when I see how so many place
the whole tenor of a profound mystery in a book, an expression, a
phrase, or even a syllable, and weigh the immensity of love in grains
and scruples, that they may know the faster how surely their brother is
to be damned, who in other countries and with different vessels draws
out of the ocean of grace. Whoever too hastily gives a yes, or a no to
the interrogations of the conscience, in such assuredly neither doubt,
nor conviction is as yet awakened. That exhaustion, that mournful
faintness which comes over us, when we see all parties fallen into
error, all truth and inspiration mingled and disfigured by human
passion, is not to be called indifference. Whom the revealed word has
once enlightened can never again forget the glance of love, that has
arisen in his inmost soul, he would rather forfeit his life than his
conviction, he requires no proofs, no renewing to confirm him, no
passion, no illusion, or miracle to ground him more firmly in himself,
as little will raillery, or doubt, brilliant talent, or presumptuous
philosophy, again be able to displace in his heart that directing
star."
Edmond became thoughtful. "You are recalling," said he at length,
"my former existence within me; I believe I comprehend you, and
yet formerly I did not understand myself. You even mention the
miraculous and similar things slightingly, do we not live in the age of
such things? Oh! my honoured, venerable friend, could you have beheld
what I have seen, could I tell you what I have myself experienced, you
would then be bewildered at yourself and your own conviction, but you
content yourself in peace, that you may escape the conflict, you deny
the gift of prophecy, the visions, the wonderful state of these
children and inspired Camisards, or censure with your church all, as
deception and falsehood, if perchance you do not, as however I cannot
believe of you, agree with the most infamous, and declare it the work
of Satan and of hell." "Aye, no, my young enthusiast," cried the old
man, "nothing of all this; I have spoken with sensible men, and I have
witnessed myself years ago similar singularities: Why should I deny
these miracles, and may be, here and there mingled with lies, what
should deter me from believing in them?"
"Well, nevertheless," interrupted Edmond passionately, "you will
withdraw from the truth, you will uphold only your church as truly
orthodox?"
"Has mine then no miracles to bring forward?" said the old man meekly:
"and why should I not recognise them? But should the truth of
revelation be grounded upon these alone, we were then indeed entrapped
in the worst of errors. That, which habit renders necessary to us, we
call nature and its laws: When I see a deviation from this, which
surprises and confounds me, I speak of miracles; as if these so named
laws were not likewise miracles; as if I were able to interpret, to
comprehend and explain the daily phenomena; as if each flower did not
blossom before me as a miracle; my origin, growth and decay, sun, moon,
and stars, light, air, and water, nay, the organisation of the smallest
fly were not also miracles like horror and spectre. All life surrounds
me spiritually, miraculously; or, if my spirit is torn out of the
peaceful element of its heavenly atmosphere; then love becomes hatred
and despair, and wisdom as well as the revealed word of the Lord
madness and blasphemy." Edmond was mute. "Know I then," continued the
old man, "that which I call nature and its energies, the mind and its
faculties? how each day it varies in different men for the most
insignificant occasions! The poet, the artist knows how to speak of
feelings, which to the uninitiated must appear as delirium, or miracle:
energies unfold themselves, of which the former world was ignorant,
many others have in the course of time declined, or have been
forgotten; they appear again probably to astonish, or to give a firmer
foundation to true science. Would my mind set limits to the Almighty,
and know I, what God from wise, unsearchable causes will permit or
execute? but no miracle can ever be elevated to a religious mystery;
revelation requires not this to announce its eternal truth; the Saviour
himself did not perform his miracles for that purpose, and reproaches
the pharasees and people; miracle seeking testifies disbelief and
irreligion, and where passion, party or sect, in the conflict of
opinions, relies upon these inexplicable phenomena and wish to found
conviction, or even to prove and explain for ever and ever out of what
is indefinite, then is it all over long since with every sincere
examination, with all true religion."
"And the resurrection of the Lord?" said Edmond. "Is not," said the
former, "to be reckoned among the phenomena, commonly called miracles,
if the grosser, unenlightened mind can indeed comprehend them only in
this manner." "Go on," said Edmond, "to make your opinions clear to me,
I am not yet too old to learn." "It happens not unfrequently," resumed
the priest "that remorse and despair either in criminals or in weak,
sickly men have produced a sudden cure of old paralysis, so that the
strength of the arm has been able to tear off their fetters, or to
break iron posts; passion or terror exasperated that man, and gave him
what in an ordinary state he did not possess. In dreams, in sickness,
strange worlds are often discovered to us, and unknown feelings,
scarcely foreboded, are presented to our view, and thus it may well
happen, nay, I have myself experienced it, that in excited minds,
inspired by enthusiasm, remorse, and passion, a state, as if between
sleep and wakefulness, originates, in which, in the struggles of the
organs, the spirit breaks in a short time through the bonds that
confine it; it sees and hears as a spirit, distance approaches it,
barriers obstruct not its view, futurity becomes the present, and in
this total overthrow, the original vigour of the soul resumes its own
appropriate right."
"And wherefore should not this, according to your own words," said
Edmond, "be able to be pure and heavenly?"
"I will neither combat, condemn, nor ratify it," answered the
clergyman, "were our nature entirely pure and refined, had we never
falsified our heavenly origin, then indeed might these phenomena
deserve our praise and thanksgiving to the Almighty, who again ever
raises us to the rank of apostles, and denies us not the gift of
prophecy. But frivolity, mortality, and evil have penetrated into us,
this death obscures our life, this annihilation struggles against our
spirit, as we are of heavenly origin; our outward existence is,
however, as well as our spiritual operations continually exposed to
this pitiful enemy, as the shadow, it follows every thought and every
deed, and to combat it in thought and action, as well as in pure faith
and devotion, is the task of our existence; the past must be
continually put aside to make room for the coming, of the Lord. But woe
to us when that wonderful excitement of the mind, when these gifts of
prophecy associate themselves with this nullity, this chaos, and all
the dark passions! Then eternal truth, which never slumbers within us,
summons falsehood, vanity, pride, wickedness, and bloodthirstiness, to
enter into the shadowed gloom of our dark deformed soul, hyenas and
tigers then tear themselves free from their fetters, and hapless man
imagines, while the spirit of murder is roaring within him, that the
Spirit of the Lord is prophesying directly from out of his mouth."
Edmond looked at him searchingly. "Often, however," pursued the old man
composedly, "it is only the Immortal Spirit, that collects all its
present and future energies, that it may step beyond the ordinary
limits of nature, and that it merely takes with it the images of folly,
and the almost innocent mask, in order to announce even in the
supernatural, that which is absurd and contrary to nature."
"If you are right." said Edmond, "what do you counsel those, who are
thus gifted? This state must be a most critical one; but how
disembarrass yourself of it?"
"By simplicity of conduct," replied the old man, "by estrangement from
all passion and pride, and by pure prayer for the deliverance from this
error, and from the deluding gift."
"That signifies," answered Edmond passionately and bitterly, "I ought
to entreat the Lord to withdraw from me, I ought to pray to him to
remain far away from me; in order to become godly, I must commence with
consummate impiety. Is it thus that a priest of the Lord can exhort and
counsel? but thus they are, thus they speak, these persecutors. And if
they be but consistent, they must also entirely deny the miracles of
their church, nay, even censure sacred Scripture as a lie."
"You have not indeed completely understood me, young man," answered the
priest. "May not the ardour of love kindle so intensely, that the
matter, the obscurity, the nothingness in us, may become temporally
annihilated, and our speech, with the Lord's permission working in his
strength may issue forth? That this may be possible, the example of the
apostles teaches us, the prophets bear witness; that many great saints
whom the world venerated, may have thus spoken and worked, is certainly
credible.--And thus belief may move and elevate, it may be a positive
crime to mock reservation,--but what can this avail true religion, or
its mysteries? How weak would it be, if these supports, as I have
already said, were indispensable to it! The miracle of all miracles, my
young friend, is the great moment which is revealed to all sinning,
hapless mortals in their limited life, when the lord himself advances
to meet the penitent, the indifferent, and creates his heart anew. This
metamorphosis is more wonderful incomprehensible, and more mysterious
than all the overthrows of the laws of nature, which attract the eye
searching for miracles, for here out of nothing something is brought
forth, out of death, suddenly like a flash of lightning, life is
created."
They were disturbed at this moment by several peasants, who were
begging directions from their priest how to proceed respecting the
approaching festival and procession. Edmond in the mean while walked
about the little garden, variously excited and inclined to
contemplation, for his earlier youth had been recalled to his
remembrance, many of his father's words, many of his early
instructor's, his mother's admonitions were again revived within him.
The clergyman returned after a short time and said: "Still I must ever
lovingly admire the human mind, when it preserves itself pure, and so
many sentiments and customs affect, while they appear to us childish,
and foolish. Let no severe judge expunge these feelings from our
religion, for even, these sucklings will hang on their mother's breast,
and while they nourish themselves, they gaze in her dark eyes, whose
expression they understand more from the instinct of childhood than
from knowledge. We have here in our little church a miraculous portrait
of the mother of God, which is renowned and honored far and wide by the
country-people of the mountain. An old shapeless figure cut in wood of
small size, probably in the early age of art, when it was yet scarcely
aware of its own existence. I have seen the sick, when they prayed
before the altar, restored to health, for faith and the commotions of
the mind are able to bring forth the strongest phenomena in our
delicate nature. Now when I reflect that upon this little spot so many
thousands have for centuries derived consolation and joy, I cannot look
upon her without emotion. The war has rendered a festival impossible
this year, which otherwise has annually been celebrated on the morrow.
From several village communities, even from those which lie twelve
leagues off, processions of the communities arrived; eight young girls
crowned with flowers bore the portrait of the Madonna of their church,
singing all those hymns, which sound so beautifully in the mountain
dialect in their tunes: Thus they walked round the church and one
procession after another brought many with spiritual songs into our
temple, here the strange visitor must bow low before ours, who then in
a chaunt thanked and praised the Lord, in the song which our young
women here sing most enchantingly in alternate chorusses. Thus all the
processions bring in their mother of God quite similar to the theories
of the ancient Greeks, and retired again in praise and thanks. This
ceremony, which to the wise may only appear puerile, has, since I have
been able to observe the people here, always produced much good and
salutary fruit. The common man (though what do I say, who among us that
calls himself the educated,) need not such things at times. The whole
village all the winter long rejoiced in the anticipation of this day,
the possession of this Marie endears this spot of the mountain, and
renders it invaluable to them, the pilgrimage church here dazzles to
the absent from a distance as if surrounded with a glory. The wandering
through unknown districts encouraged the young and old, the visitings
of a foreign nature, made the accustomed home more agreeable to them.
Religious sentiments, pious designs, were developed, and at a later
period, in peace brought to perfection. On the road they encountered
the poor and sick, who needed assistance, all the feelings of the heart
were renewed and reinvigorated, for man requires a similar renewal at
times, that he may not become too monotonous to himself. Shall I also
remind you, that by this means their native land became to all more
endeared and beloved? without mentioning, that people from far
countries became acquainted, and one heard of this and that from
another; affection and also marriages were contracted among the distant
mountaineers, and thus the useful, the good with piety and an
inclination for the wonderful, as well as the love of nature went hand
in hand." "All this," said Edmond, "however much you may speak in its
favour, the Huguenots call idolatry."
"It would be so too," answered the old man, "if persecution, hatred and
malice, were excited by this love and festivity. It might be perilous
to celebrate the festival now, especially if it should be interrupted
by enthusiasts of the other party. In bygone years, however, I have
seen even protestants, who were unable to look upon the puerile
ceremony without shedding tears. For it is just in a similar way, when
man suffers himself to yield to his most cherished sentiments as if he
were at home, when in an entirely childish and artless spirit he draws
near to his God, or to his representative, his mother, or the saints,
(whom he believes nearer to the nameless one,) plays and sports with
the dreaded, the worshipped, laying aside all solemnity and all serious
pomp, then does mankind appear purest and simplest. All ages, all
nations are the same, let them think and worship as they like, have
never been able to do entirely without it, and what we are often
compelled to hear from free-thinkers or reformers, that we have again
introduced the old overthrown idolatry, is only, if rightly understood,
in the spirit of love, the regeneration of the human mind, which will
never permit this source of its holy thirst to be exhausted. But abuse
and error attach themselves to everything human. Indeed, the most
beautiful body consists merely of earth, and dust; and yet beauty is
more sublime than the moist clay of the fields."
Thus was Edmond compelled to hear from strange lips his former thoughts
detailed. He was so affected by the presence of the old man, that he
felt himself compelled to discover to him what a zealous catholic he
himself had once been and had but a short time previously turned to the
Huguenot faith; he was silent, however, respecting his alliance with
the Camisards, and the purpose for which he had descended into the
valleys.
"It is easy to understand," answered the old man, "how lively minds in
these troublous times forsake their party and seek on the opposite
side, what is wanting to them; that love makes such attempts to become
reconciled with itself, even though these attempts should fail. My
dear, young friend, you recall to my mind by your confession, your
countenance and presence my own past youth in the most lively colours,
and I cannot refrain from exchanging confession for confession,
confidence for confidence. I am indeed tempted to impart to you the
history of my little limited life, that has almost only experienced
emotions of the mind."
They seated themselves in an arbour, before which stood plantains
entwined with vines, the green wooded mountains were open, and the
murmuring of the brook resounded pleasingly through the solitude, while
from to time to time, the bells of the village church on account of the
festival on the morrow, rang out their monotonous and solemn tones.
"I come from the Netherlands," commenced the priest, "born of
Huguenot parents, whom I lost at a very early period. My guardians,
worldly-minded men, troubled themselves more about the preservation of
my small fortune than of giving me a sound education, and therefore it
happened that I was consigned to a tutor, with whom they, as well as
myself, were very well pleased. He was a man of extensive information,
who had also travelled much, and had resided a considerable time in
London. As he was descended from a good family, and possessed himself
some tact, he became acquainted with and acquired each day the
confidence of many beaux esprits and of the courtiers here, and
although his morals had not suffered as much as one might well have
been led to fear, his religious principles at least, which may never
have been very strong, were by this intercourse entirely stifled and
destroyed. Knowledge, understanding were the most important to him,
however he devoted himself with religious worship to poetry, as well as
to the history of the ancient Greeks. No one could be more eloquent
than he, when he enlarged upon these subjects. That these sentiments,
as I was of a very lively disposition, should influence me, was very
natural; my tutor seemed to me the most gifted of mortals, and his
decisions were my oracles. Though I may still honour his memory, I must
nevertheless censure as a weakness in what then certainly appeared to
me his greatest forte, namely, his unwearied mockery of Christianity
and of every religion; all others rather than the various sects of the
Christian Church, found a release from his satires; the present, as
well as the past, the history of the development, its mysteries, all
was a subject of his derision, and the apostles, even the Saviour
himself, were not spared by him, how much less Luther, or Calvin, and
Zwingli, or even those so named mystics, who desire to form in
themselves a peculiar spirit to recognise God. My mind had soon become
so intimately connected with his, that I could not endure that there
should be any religion for me on the earth, that any pious sentiments
should ever arise in my heart. I had indeed my heroes of the former
world, the Grecian antiquity, the high-minded Romans, in whose
patriotism I glowed in dreams, the boundless fields of poetry with its
gardens of wit and humour; and out of Sophocles and Eschylus, those
dreamers of a world of spirits not understood, these seemed to me the
most sublime objects that could ever have the power to shake my soul.
In a short time I was honestly and truly ashamed of being a Christian,
when I thought of the variegated world of fiction, of the ambiguous
Grecian mythology, of those feasts and spectacles, lofty statues, and
noble temples: Where then were the deliverer on the ignominious cross,
and his impoverished disciples? how this faith of poverty and
misfortune dwindled into nothing compared with those sacrifices and
public parade, and the jubilee of the Pindaric hymns? neither did I
reckon myself among the community, and the dullest day of my young,
life, was that on which I was received into the church of our sect with
the customary ceremonies. Each word seemed nonsense to me, all
solemnity degradation, in anger only I responded to the questions, and
while still in the church, I swore never again to visit it: A
contradictory and foolish oath, which, however, I long observed. At a
later period, when I reentered into the world, I remarked that all, who
were called strong-minded, were either privately or publicly of my
belief. All did not openly mock; the weak disapproved of this outrage,
but only from the feeling of not making weak men err, or become
unhappy, who though had nothing better themselves, or were not able to
produce any thing but the old, miserable tale, that, without a
connexion, one often contradicts the other. Many forcibly denied
altogether the history of the Saviour, with others still worse, he was
merely an unfortunate rebel, and to the best, a moral man, but who
indeed, according to their views must be far inferior to Socrates,
whose life was clearer, and whose doctrines seemed more comprehensible.
Several of these free-thinkers, to whom the catholic church was a
stumbling block, and who, that they might not be considered as
antichristians, turned all the strength of their mind, under pretext of
protecting the protestant freedom, to tear to atoms and to disfigure
their catholic brethren, the history of the church, spiritual and
temporal ordinances, in the most barbarous manner: thus behind this
rampart, they imagined under false names, to be able to annihilate
Christianity itself, for this it was which was hateful to them, not
this, or that party. All this was very evident to me, and I lent my aid
as much as my limited power would permit. I arrived at the age of
maturity, and my opinions only became still more deeply rooted. I
travelled, I saw the world, but only on the side, which confirmed my
prejudices. If I met with pious enlightened Christians, they appeared
to me only as strange disordered spirits, worthy of remark perhaps, of
pity assuredly. In a German town I took out of sheer insolence the book
of a German mystic from the library to my own dwelling, that I might
for want of better amusement, divert myself in the spirit of derision
with the madness of the absurd and the foolish. Unconsciously, I had
brought the fire-brand into my house, which soon set in flames all this
edifice of pride and worldly impiety. I turned over the leaves, read
and laughed, read again and found the puerility at least poetical. The
book left me no rest, I felt as it were attracted to it, it tortured
me, and to my shame I was soon forced to confess to myself, that it
contained connexion, strength, and spirit, that it instructed me, and
that gardens, flowers, and trees of love bloomed, where I had only seen
a waste desert. The presentiment seized me, that another God might rule
the universe than he, whom in my enthusiastic views of nature, or in my
poetical inspirations, I had been willing to discover, or to
acknowledge in the vortex of frivolity.
"My mind much affected, after some weeks of anxiety and meditation,
longed ardently to read the Holy Scriptures. None of my numerous
acquaintances, even such as were book collectors, or who possessed
extensive libraries, had this book in their households. I felt ashamed,
that I too had never required it. From that time this treasure became
my faithful companion on my travels. I read in solitary and consecrated
moments, and experienced what every thirsty one feels, who is
susceptible of humiliation, in whom the utter sense of helplessness is
not entirely extinct, which, indeed, is so indispensably necessary
before the spiritual word can take root in the uncultivated heart.
Faith! this so often disputed, attacked and variously explained word.
Oh! who has experienced it, in whom it has arisen with its strength, he
will not dispute it. I could not withdraw myself from the revelation,
the faith, so triumphantly did the words, the images, the language of
the gospel glittering in the splendour of arms pierce through my soul,
and all my energies became the prisoners of eternal love, and were now
happy and blessed in the service, in the sweet slavery. My former
rebellion against the Lord appeared to me mean and despicable, and my
contempt turned from its course, no longer understood the folly of its
early wisdom. Many indeed imagine, that faith, humility, and unbounded
trust in the Lord, are nothing else than killing our energies, nay the
faculty of thinking, and consequently withdraw in anger or in trembling
from that work of regeneration, which, nevertheless speaks sometimes
from afar indirectly to their insensible hearts. Unhappy men! This so
much dreaded faith would first elevate their capacities to energies and
kindle new lights and flames in their spirits. Without him, the
revealed Christ, no sense in profound thought, no spirit in history, no
consolation in nature and no peculiarity in our existence. Art, love,
humour, who possesses him, they are then free play-fellows. How joyous,
sweet, yea intoxicating and full of merriment, cheerful, and smiling
does Christianity appear through all the genuine works of modern art,
how blessed and pleasing are they, when in the greatness and fulness of
the old world, yet like a spirit of gentle melancholy that passes away
as the cloud, momentarily over the beautiful landscape in the
brilliancy of spring." The old man paused, and Edmond said: "Oh! how
willingly I listen to you, and remember all the sentiments and
vicissitudes of my stormy youth."
"What I had before rejected," continued the priest, "now became the
most urgent want of my soul, for I felt, how much a christian
congregation, in unison together, must strengthen and elevate the
individual. I visited the church therefore and wished to join in the
worship of my sect. But whether it was that my mind was too much
agitated, or that I had perhaps fallen on the wrong one, it appeared to
me that every where the church overreached itself by preaching. All
preferred their own explanations, and their close reasoning philosophy
to the word of the Lord, they were all ashamed of Christ and denied him
in artfully spun phrases, they misinterpreted him, merely that they
might bring him nearer to their own weak necessities, as if he and his
disciples must be subservient to their enlightened times, as servants
and sextons of the church. I knew well, that every believing auditor
and layman must be a priest himself to be able by his own power to
transform the worthless into the good, but all my vital energies sank
in the midst of that which surrounded me; the shrill singing stunned
me, and the whole left a void and almost brought me back again to the
state of a despairing infidel. It was certainly unreasonable on my part
to require that all should partake of the intoxication of my newly
planted vineyard. I was now compelled to feel, that fanaticism, and
stepping beyond the limits was yet worse than remaining cold and
apathetic below the mark. I continued my travels, and quarrelled on the
way with my companion, already an old acquaintance, who neither could,
or would not share in all my feelings. Thus we arrived at Nismes; there
my destiny ordained, that I should long remain, in order that my whole
life fully aroused should be determined and resolved. My companion, a
certain Lacoste, introduced me to a house, where new feelings awaited
me, to torture as much as to bless me."
"Lacoste!" exclaimed Edmond, "should he, perhaps--but proceed my
venerable friend, I may be mistaken."
"My former friend," pursued the priest, "was tall and robust, a
handsome man in every sense of the word, feeling and kind, but
frivolous, and as far from every religion, as I had been a short time
previously. This friend introduced me to the family of a worthy
magistrate, which soon, as the good man and his excellent wife received
me so hospitably, became my daily abode. They had a son, an amiable
youth whose enthusiasm quickly procured him my confidence, for just as
much as Lacoste disputed all religious principles, young Beauvais
warmly cherished them, voluntary lived in and for religion: he was the
most zealous defender of his Catholic party, that I have ever been
acquainted with."
"Heavens!" exclaimed Edmond, "you are then, venerable man, the Edmond
Watelet, of whom I have so often heard the Counsellor of Parliament
speak, as the favourite friend of his youth?"
A long pause ensued.--"It is indeed so," said the aged priest wiping
away his tears, "the young enthusiastic Beauvais must now be an old
man; I too though am become old! Aye, truly, there is a period which
our heart refuses to believe, it is that alone which exalts the life of
each one of us to a strange fiction, to a wonderful tale. He is still
living then? ah, my dear Chevalier, you are yourself very like him.
That is the spell, which so inseparably bound me to you."
Edmond talked of his father, but notwithstanding his deep emotion, he
felt it was impossible to discover to him at that moment, that he was
his son. After a time during which the old man recovered from his
agitation, he continued more calmly: "That which most contributed to
convert the paternal dwelling of my young friend into an enchanted
garden for me, was the society of the young and beautiful women, who
assembled there. Ha himself was affianced to a lovely girl, and he
ardently anticipated his union with her. His Lucy's sentiments
corresponded exactly with his own, and all that drew them nearer to
each other was more or less imbibed into their existence and grew with
the inspired hymn. The elder Beauvais only smiled at the high-strained
feeling of the young people, for though he was himself pious, he rather
feared that overreaching, and this religious ecstasy appeared to him as
such. I now visited the temple in high spirits with my enthusiastic
friend. The solemnity of God's service, the stillness, the enchanting
singing, the dread-inspiring presentiment which hovered over every
mystery that here tried to present itself visibly to the necessitous,
languishing senses, transported my heart. Already accustomed to look
upon every thing as a riddle, as a concealed mystery of love, the
celebration of the Mass appeared to me as elevated and divine, as
revelation and work of art, as type and fulfilment at the same time,
and each word spoken, or sung as it fell on my ear in the full force of
its signification, drove back a bolt from my heart. Art and nature
changed before my eyes, the element of water became glorified, in the
fire, in the light of the church tapers as well as that of the house, I
perceived and recognised the whole tenor of the secret of nature. The
nights became too short to enable us to impart to each other all that
arose in our minds. A young abbe, a mild, miracle-believing enthusiast
was often the third in our consultations in the open air or within
doors, and his learning, his knowledge in old legends and histories of
the church gave to all our spiritual movements body and presence, yes,
my friend, this rosy period of my youth was like the wedding festival
of my soul, and griefs not to be named were already preparing in the
midst of this enjoyment, in order to teach me how weak, how frail man
is and remains."
"And this abbe," exclaimed Edmond, who had scarcely heard the last
words, "was he not named Aubigny?"
"Exactly so," replied the pastor with much astonishment, "it seems
indeed that you know all the companions of my youth."
"Through the Counsellor of Parliament," answered Edmond, "who also
likes to recall to his memory the season of his youth. But I pray you
to continue your narrative. I fear that that Lacoste did not wish to be
the fourth in your alliance."
"The unfortunate man," said the priest, "who had already become so
confidential with us, withdrew from us day by day, although he still
continued to visit frequently the paternal dwelling. Notwithstanding
that we had agreed to deal mildly with him, his derision of us excited
our anger, and his coldness refused all our conciliatory endeavours. It
was not predestined, that our days should flow along in peaceful,
undisturbed cheerfulness.
"Among the young girls that visited my friend's house, the next in
loveliness to his bride, was one Euphemie the most delicate and
beautiful apparition that my eyes had ever beheld. She dazzled less
than Lucy, but she was still more refined more etherial. Her mind was
also already abstracted from this world, her wishes were directed to
the cloister, the life of a nun seemed to her most desirable.
Fortunately this inclination coincided with the views of her parents,
who as it so often happens, wished the whole of the fortune to devolve
on the son, so that he might be able to occupy a more important station
in the world. In order to complete my reformation, the knowledge of
love was only wanting to my deeply affected mind. Euphemie and I drew
near to each other, we became as quickly familiarised as if our being
had for many years been only waiting for this acquaintance. We were as
brother and sister, before we had yet been able to wonder at the
rapidity of this mutual confidence. We soon felt that we could not do
without each other, she could tell me all her thoughts and feelings
more easily and confidingly than she could impart them to her parents,
even more than she ventured to do to her female friends. My heart
floated in the sweetest repose; at the sound of her voice, at the
glance of her mild eye, when I heard her footstep, when she walked in
the garden, nay even when I only thought of her, my mind was as if
plunged in bliss. Even thus the spirits of the pure soar glorified
towards their sacred destiny, estranged from all passion and
inquietude, from all violent incitements. And yet I knew not that I
loved: I had never permitted this word to enter into my mind.
"We conversed on her future cloistered life, on the saints and their
miracles, and Euphemie had in me the most believing pupil. She lent an
equally attentive ear to my enthusiasm and days and weeks passed away
in a pleasing dream. That Italy, whither indeed I was journeying, was
in the world, I had totally forgotten.
"Beauvais took possession of a country house, that lay in the most
beautiful part of the country. I followed the family and my adored
Euphemie also accompanied her friends, for the mother, as well as the
son's future bride respected the wonderful girl. What singular
conversations and outpourings of the heart! the earth and all that
surrounded us, to which we must indeed have applied names, vanished
from us, and our spirits as if in the innocence of Paradise lulled
themselves, void of every want, but penetrated with the most innate,
the most holy love. We understood each other without words, and as all
that was earthly had fled, no feelings of jealousy, suspicion, or
distrust arose in our souls.
"The legends, many of which express a heavenly spirit of resignation to
the mysterious will of the Most High, a renunciation, nay almost an
annihilation of self in fervent love of Christ, a profound mortal
compassion in the endearing adoration, our inebriated enthusiasm was
awakened and nourished especially by those feelings. Many of these
tales are repulsive and contrary to every sentiment, these we discussed
with subtle and ingenious commentaries in order to garnish them with a
milder spirit. But the most beautiful that this species of tradition
has preserved to us, is that, which, however, at the same time is the
most misconceived by the unawakened soul of and which is found absurd
and repulsive by the worldly minded. The life and history of the old
hermits, there may be also much of later invention, to the mind which
is once moved by spiritual things, they present a touching miracle.
What shall I say of the meditations of St. Francis, of his ardent love
and of the visions which arose and were present to this man in the
perfect humility, the compassion, and fervour of his unfettered heart?
He only who has once known the splendour of the world, the insolent
strength appertaining to it, can rightly comprehend this temper of
mind. We also often read the Gospel, and then a trembling, such as has
been frequently observed in many enthusiasts, came over my whole body,
especially when in solitude, for timidity and shame restrained me in
society from exposing my deep emotions to observation. In this frame of
mind, I left Euphemie one morning, some chapters of the Holy Scriptures
had just been read. I threw myself down in the most retired spot in the
garden, in order to give a free course to my tears. The whole world
awakened feelings of pity within me, I experienced such an overflow of
love in my oppressed heart, that it almost burst, in the excess of its
own enjoyment; I read over again the passages in Luke, how Christ met
the poor widow and the dead body of her son, and compassionately
aroused the youth from death. There are no words that can describe the
state of my mind. The elder Beauvais with a suite of servants was just
returning from the chase. He might well be astonished at finding me in
this condition, but he passed me with a mute salutation. I arose, and
now as with a tremendous power it took possession of me. Verily, said I
to myself, as thee no man has ever yet loved; it is the spirit of God,
of the Father himself that stirs within thee to gladden to love, to
sympathise with all; in these, these exalted moments I felt impressed
with the eternal truth, that I myself, I was the son, the God from
God,---and what should prevent me from moving these trees, these stones
with the word of life, that they might change into other forms, and
attest my might, shall I beckon to the angels that hover round me,
visibly to appear to do my service?--Yes! let it be attempted,
ventured--Then trembling and fear came over me, I was stunned and in
despair; in contrite humility I cast myself down before my Creator, I
felt myself undone, now that I perceived my devilish arrogance which
had risen out of pure humility and love; I had experienced the most
fearful apostacy from God, just at the moment when with all my
faculties I felt myself nearer to him.
"This moment in which my spirit became dizzy on the verge of insanity
and frenzy, has since then ever seemed to me the most terrible one in
my life. I now understood myself and human nature, and also the danger
of enthusiastic raptures of love. I had then indeed myself trodden the
bridge over which all enthusiasts have passed, the narrow path (ever
shining brightly, though hell lies beneath it) between virtue and vice,
between wisdom and presumption, which leads from love and kindliness to
hatred and murder, and I had now learned what an unholy spirit had
moved the Anabaptists, and Adamites, and perhaps now glows and rages in
many a heart among the rebels. Oh! my son, man is a most frail and
pitiable being, the more is lent to him, the more has he to answer for,
the brighter the spirit of love glows within him, the darker burns his
reprobation; his gifts granted to him from heaven, may become his dire
enemies, there is no one either that stands so fast, but that he may
also fall. My legends had already taught me that, but I was doomed to
feel it first in this fatal downfall."
"Therefore still hell and devil?" cried Edmond after a long pause.
"However mildly you spoke and sentenced at first, the priestly
condemnation follows in the end. Oh thou unfortunate Cavalier and
Marion! and ye unhappy children, on whose lisping tongues Satan himself
laid the name of the Lord, and the awaking to repentance."
"What then shall we call that?" said the old man mildly, "which works
directly against God? We require not certainly that fearful figure,
which perversity has imagined, in order to represent him personally; we
need not indeed ascribe to him those tremendous attributes, which the
miracle-seeking has invented, fabulously enough, but so much the worse
for us, the weaker, the more powerless he in himself is: how feeble are
we then to permit ourselves to be so ignominously overcome by this
shadow, this delusion, this inefficiency, this nothingness? How our
priests may censure these suggestions and represent them as devilish I
know not, but it suffices for me, that I have experienced in myself,
that such a feeling of all our energies may exist in us in divine love,
which then does not proceed from God, but from his despicable
adversary, and of which we must beware, because we, the image of God,
through our own demerits are, as it were, only shadows of shadows."
The old man arose, and walked several times up and down the garden, to
subdue the emotion, which these recollections had excited. Edmond
remained behind in deep thought, and compared the narrative of the
pastor with his own experience. Should he now view them in an other
light, or wish them effaced from the career of his life? He would have
been more satisfied, could he have heartily embittered his feelings
against the old man, towards whom, however, inclination as well as the
intercourse of soul in which he had spent his youth with his own parent
attracted him. The pastor came back smiling, and seated himself again
by the side of the subtle investigator. "It cannot be otherwise in
life," recommenced he, "each sentiment, each society, each disposition
and friendship has its history, all ascends, attains the highest summit
and falls again. Thus had the most delightful concord in our singular
intimacy already vanished, before we had been able to perceive a
change. The impetuous Lacoste had conceived a violent passion for Lucy,
and the gentle, pious creature felt very unhappy on that account,
although she at same time became reserved towards young Beauvais. At
first the latter was embarrassed at this, then vexed and irritated
against Lacoste, to whom until now he had been greatly attached, whilst
he thought that a secret inclination for this impetuous man had thus
visibly estranged his bride from him. In this mutual constraint, the
two friends avoided each other, they were however compelled to meet in
company: An explicit communication and reciprocal understanding seemed
impossible, so that the rancour took even deeper root, especially with
Lacoste, who, after some time, made but little effort to restrain from
publicly betraying his aversion to Beauvais. But the state of my own
feelings was such, that I was soon disqualified from observing others
around me. Euphemie's brother, the pride of his family, fell into an
illness, which had all the appearance of consumption, and now the
parents thought of marrying their daughter to a man of distinction,
that through her their name and large fortune might be perpetuated in
the world. When Euphemie first spoke to me on this subject, she was
wholly unembarrassed; her voice was as firm and steady as if she were
speaking of a friend. I felt as if she were relating to me a silly
improbable tale, so pure, exalted, and unattainable had my fancy
painted her. I could almost just as easily have persuaded myself that a
scheme of marriage was projecting with the evening star. But at night,
on my solitary couch, the aspect of affairs took another form: Again
was I doomed to learn, and how painfully! to know myself and the world.
Is she to belong to the world? I asked myself, wherefore then not first
to me? To me, to whom she already belongs, as my soul dwells in hers!
"The concealed ardour, which until now had slumbered in the sweetest
intoxication, burst through its bud and blossomed, and shone forth like
a rare flower, which unfolded a thousand purple leaves. I felt now
thoroughly, for the first time, that what until then I had considered
merely earthly, was of heavenly origin. I deemed myself called upon in
my pure love to renew as a real sacrament, the sublime symbol of
marriage, in such holy perfection as it is seldom, perhaps never, found
on earth. Euphemie was terrified at my plans, my ardent persuasions,
and my enterprising spirit. The more her hesitation, her timidity
increased my passion, the more did I appear to her a strange being,
whom until then she had not known at all. She was to be awakened from
her peaceful repose, thus my love desired it, but she was shocked at
the thought of grieving her parents in any way, to oppose them was with
her an unnatural sin, and all that I urged about elopement, force, and
death, only confused her delicate mind, as in the roaring of the
waterfall no speech can be heard. My high wrought passion grew almost
to frenzy; that she did not love me, that I was hateful to her, that
already she turned her affections on her bridegroom, whom I jealously
cursed, menacing to kill both him and myself: to all these frantic
expressions she listened with a suffering and endearing patience. Thus
then was this heaven destroyed for me, and black demons grinned on me
from the same places, where before my intoxicated ear had heard the
flapping of angel's wings, from whence formerly a sweet smile from a
radiant countenance bloomed on me like roses sparkling with dew in the
rosy light of morning.
"Verily my soul becomes young again, when I think on those days. Oh! he
grows not old, who lives only in the solitude of his recollections, as
I do. With poor Lacoste things went on still worse than with myself. He
wasted away, and wished for death. Often did he call upon it with
fearful words. There was something heart-rending in his look. My friend
Beauvais had also become pale, his youth was evaporating. Oh! there is
nothing so terrible as to be compelled to doubt the worth of the
beloved object; that gives more pain than despised affection. And in
these pangs the hapless man was now perishing. Lucy was a puzzle to me
also, when I was able to direct a look at her, she as well as Euphemie
were constrained and timid, sought, and at the same tine avoided
solitude, longed to pour out the overflowings of the heart to each
other or their beloved, yet could not find the time, or perhaps, could
not exert sufficient courage. All the same men, who, but a short time
previously sounded in concord together like heavenly tones, now
screamed in yelling discord against one another; the apparent sanctity
had changed into human folly, and each understood the other as little
as himself. The elder Beauvais seemed to guess a little the horrible
confusion, for he frequently looked at us all with dark and penetrating
glances.
"At length this twisted knot disentangled itself again. Euphemie's
brother began to recover, the former projects were brought forward
again, and my overwhelming passion was compelled to give place by
degrees to a calm resignation. This only was the case, for I was
determined to make good my supposed rights, until I perceived that the
delicate Euphemie must perish in this storm; Lucy at length declared
herself for Beauvais, and it was discovered, that his too intimate
intercourse with Lacoste was alone the cause of her reserve towards
him. The fear had risen within her, that he himself might be inclined
to the free-thinking opinions of his rival. So great was her love to
her church, that she had resolved, rather to sacrifice her dear
betrothed than to live in the proximity of persuasions, which she
considered as utterly profane. And it is true, the more zealous we were
to recognise truth and divinity in one form only, the more did Lacoste
seize every opportunity to express his incredulity. Indeed, however,
miserable he felt within himself, he sought by a certain vanity to
avail himself of every occasion to prove his strength of mind in
mockery, and in violent bursts of passion, his wretchedness had given
such a bitter turn to his feelings, that sometimes he stood amongst us
like an inspired prophet of Atheism, used such singular similies and
figurative expressions, in a language so touching and elevated, that
the pious maidens turned away from him with inward terror.
"We had all ceased to weep, we were reconciled and of peaceable, quiet
hearts, when Lacoste entered in the midst of our pathetic emotion and
religious conversation. Beauvais made known to him what he had learned
from Lucy, and that he (Lacoste) must quit our society in order that he
might not disturb the happiness of the lovers and their approaching
marriage, perhaps even render it impossible. This blow fell
unexpectedly on the unfortunate Lacoste; his whole emaciated, care-worn
frame trembled violently as if in convulsions, he was unable for a long
time to find words, and when at last they flowed from his colourless
lips, he tried to persuade us, that such a sentence of banishment from
former friends was at least too hard, that he was not able to subdue
his passion so quickly, or entirely to get rid of his persuasions, but
that he combated both, and would strive against them with still greater
energy in our company. But Beauvais was on this day armed with manly
courage and resolution, his intercourse hitherto with Lucy had
made him too unhappy; he insisted on the immediate departure of the
peace-destroyer; the Abbe Aubigny sided with him, the gentle Euphemie
was anxious, and Lucy herself the most decided; I also joined in this
chorus, and we all unanimously declared, as with one voice, that the
godless one should no longer linger near us; it was our duty, the love
of Christ itself required of us to banish him, because through his
intercourse with us, our religion would be sullied, perhaps even
endangered. When Lacoste perceived we were firm in our religious zeal,
he left off prayers and humiliations, and a tremendous fury overcame
the mortified man, his eyes flashed fire, and he cursed himself and us
with the bitterest execrations--that we might never find happiness,
that misery might pursue us, that Beauvais might reap nothing but grief
and sorrow from this marriage, and that he might live to see calamity,
distress, and crime on his dearest children."
Edmond sighed deeply. "Thus," continued the priest, "did the wretched
man leave us, and rushed like a madman out of the house; but a short
time only was requisite to recall us to our senses, and to penetrate us
with a burning shame. In the most devout temper of mind, in feelings of
the purest love, as we fancied, we had been cruel towards a fellow
brother, towards a friend, who deserved forbearance and compassion,
although he might have strayed into the path of error. Beauvais was the
first to recollect himself, and was angry with himself and all of us;
he rebuked us as inquisitors, who condemn in cold blood to the stake
all those that differ in opinion with them. A messenger was quickly
dispatched to his residence in town, but he had already in his fury
departed thence, no one knew whither. He had smashed to pieces
everything in the house there, and with his gigantic strength had so
ill-used a young waiter, who had attempted to appease him, that the
unfortunate lad had been given up to the surgeons as dead. He had so
cut his head with tables and chairs that he threw at the defenceless
boy and crushed both his legs, that it was doubtful whether he would
recover. If we had first been ashamed, we would now have concealed
ourselves in the caverns of the earth, when we learned that this young
lad, bred up in the most ordinary manner, and without any information,
as soon as he had recovered his senses, during excruciating tortures
from the dressing of his wounds, had prayed to God for the man, who had
injured him, that he would forgive and succour the unhappy man, who
must have been inexpressibly, infinitely wretched to have been prompted
in his sorrow to fall upon an innocent person. Who is the true
Christian? we asked ourselves, who the professor of the religion of
love? Ah! we were so zealous, we thought we had learned so much, that
we were able to teach the profoundest doctrine, we looked down daily
with contemptuous pity on those who were less enlightened, who were not
susceptible of our sublime emotions,--but now we were forced to confess
to ourselves, that we were yet standing on the other side of the
commencement; it was just, that we as miserable scholars, should be
compelled to go for instruction to a young and ignorant waiter at an
inn.
"I will conclude. Before my friend had yet celebrated his marriage, my
Euphemie took the veil. On the same day, we had thus arranged it, I
caused myself to be received into the bosom of her church. At first I
intended to become a monk, but as I had delayed, I suffered myself to
be consecrated a priest at a distance, and was transferred to this
solitary part of the mountains. Since then, I have never heard of my
friends, of Euphemie; I even wished to avoid ever seeing them again,
that I might not renew the pains of deep, vital wounds. And yet it is
but weakness, to turn away from the path of sorrow.--It had become
dark, and the two friends repaired to the lighted room, to partake of
the little evening meal. The young peasants who had been there before,
reentered, and led with them a young and beautiful girl. The latter
shewed the pastor the flowers and the ornaments, with which they
intended on the morrow to adorn the image of the mother of God. 'Now,
at last,' said the young and happy Caspar, 'is the time come, reverend
sir, that I can lead home my Louison, my bride. You know very well how
she desired to spend to-morrow's festival still as a virgin, in order
that she might be able to carry our Mary, and sing too. It has been
sorrow enough to me, to be compelled to defer my happiness for so long
a time; but for once she has persisted in her pious obstinacy. Well,
truly it is precious to have such a christian wife, such a holy
treasure. All is well, that everything has been so prosperous as yet;
for who can tell what evil may come between, when man places his fate
on such trials as these, and binds himself to hours and days. However
everything is already arranged for the wedding, and all danger and fear
is surmounted.' 'How thou talkest.' said the blushing Louison, from
whose eyes laughed her approaching happiness; and the fulfilment of all
her wishes. 'I have been friendly to thee for two years past, but must
I on that account love the mother of God less? Ah! the history as it
has come down to us, is too affecting, and therefore we must be
thankful towards her. Look you, my strange young gentleman, before
the village stood here, there was nothing far around but field and
forest. No vine, no olive-tree was to be found here. Then went a poor
wood-cutter, who had come from a distance into the wild forest to cut
down a tree for his trade. And as he applied his hatched to it, he heard
a sigh, and as he listened, a singing. A light appeared in the gloomy
forest, and above in the tree, in the oak trunk, there sat as if in a
hollow the mother of God, and commanded him to build a church on that
very spot. The man made known the miracle, the wood was cleared, and
behind the altar of our church stands still the same old oak trunk, in
which the holy virgin already dwelt from time immemorial as a testimony
and a remembrance. Thus was our good church founded, thus has the
village risen, and men have drawn near the beloved spot, for our Mary
would not thus dwell in solitude any longer. Look Caspar, thus but for
our gracious mother, there would be no house, no man here, and our dear
parent's house, and I, and thou would not be in the world, and upon
this spot of earth, and for all this must we be thankful to her.'
"All well and good," said Caspar, "but just because she is so amiable,
she would certainly have granted us with all her heart, our happiness a
long while ago. God and the saints are not like us men, who are so
ambitious on one little point, that we neglect true honour." "Is it not
true, Caspar," said Louison, laughing, "if thy new jacket with shining
buttons had not been ready, thou wouldst willingly have deferred the
wedding?" Thus laughing and jesting they withdrew again to go and seek
the clerk with whom they wished to consult how best they might attach
the flowers and garlands to the altar. The old man felt happy that his
penitents loved to approach him with this child-like confidence, and
respected him just as much as a father, while at the same time they
fearlessly associated with him in play and merriment. Edmond was grave
and melancholy; when it was time to separate to sleep, he abruptly
asked the priest, as he grasped his hand: "Well, reverend sir, did you
then afterwards in your station find that happiness of which you
dreamed in your youth?"
"Happiness," said the old man, "what is it men call thus? and of what
avail would their dreams be then, if it were to be met with in reality.
I soon saw in the beginning, with bitter sorrow, that I was too
enthusiastic, that my companions in the same calling, my superiors, did
not partake of my burning zeal; disapproved of it indeed, or declared
it heresy and false enthusiasm. They were too much occupied about their
community, the ensuring of their condition, their influence in the
world, and the binding of souls, to have kindled ardour within them, or
to have sought that faith in emotions, which was so necessary to my
life. Well, somewhat late, I undertook to examine the teachers of my
now abandoned church, and discovered that they were not altogether so
inimical to Christianity as I had fancied. I thought that I perceived
more and more distinctly that many roads lead to the Lord, and that he,
as he himself has promised, has prepared many dwellings in his house.
What the innovators, who have split asunder the church, desire, many of
the apostles and earlier teachers have already wished. I hope, this
disunion will just preserve the eternity of the Word. I also perceived,
that to form a spiritual state, to represent a great community, a great
deal by far of that enthusiasm of solitude must be checked, if it were
only to preserve the constitution pure, the strength which alone
renders possible that innate spirit of love for the present as well as
for the future, and prepares for it an asylum. It was granted to my
desire to live here in a small commune, retired from the whole world,
almost like a hermit and thus to suffice for myself. I honour the body
of our church, and am not angry with it, because it has no spirit; I
forgive it the letter, if sometimes it appears to annihilate the
spirit, because I trust in the wisdom and love of the Almighty, who
thus accomplishes all to his ends."
Thus they separated, Edmond could not sleep. How agitatingly did all
this old man's words work upon him, whom he had so unexpectedly met of
whom his father had so often spoken to him in his childhood. He felt
troubled, and prayed fervently, that at length this rebellion, which he
had been sent forth to excite, might not rage in this valley over the
venerable head of this peaceful hermit. But he indeed knew best how
impossible this was, how inevitable must be the dreadful event. In
short slumbers, fearful dreams tormented him, and with the dawn of
morning, he hastened over the mountain to Lacoste to send him off to
Roland and Cavalier.