N'o ^, "And other sheep I have that arc not of this fold ; them also 1 must briny, and they shall hear my voice: and there xhall bo one fold, and one shepherd." John x, 1C. 3f |mptoceJ, BALTIMOKE: PUBLISHED BY JOHN MURPHY & Co. 182 BALTIMORE STREET. PIT TSHURG:... GEORGE QUIOLKY. Entered according to the Act of Congress, in ihe yi>ar 1845, by PATRICK S. CASSEBI.Y, in tho Clerk's Office of the Dis- trict Court for tho Southern District of New York. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. TlAVixa several years ago, observed with much pain the harm done against ttie truth by the publication of "Father Clement," and many .similar productions, I was induced, at the instance of a much and highly-respected friend, to sketch the following story, the outlines of which I have filled up from various sources of information and assistance. I have freely made use of all the. means of information which lay in my way, whetlicr published or unpublished; from the beautiful gardens of many distinguished authors I have culled a finwer here and there, and endeavored to weave them iiito a garland offered to the greater honor and glory of God. To^theso authors I beg to return my grateful thanks once for all, "and I trusi the'.- will not take it ill if I have not refeired to them, which I must have done in almost every page. This story, as a novel, has little to recommend itself to the mere novel reader, who seeks only the passing excitement of the moment. ])ut this was not the object of the present work : its only aim has been to pre- sent an antidote to the baneful production, "Father Clement." Hence, all tho objections against the Catholic faith are taken verbatim from that work, and therefore I earnestly beg the ad- miivrs of "Father Clement," if they have any candor, to read "Father Osw-sld." If there is much repetition i.i many of the objections and answers, all I can say is, that it is the fault of " Father Clement; " but it is nevertheless, a fact, that Protestants frequently repeat the same objections over and over again although they have boon a hundred times previously re ''uteri. The theological part of this work has been submitted to the censure ol a competent ecclesiastic, to whom I express my re- spectful and grateful thanks, as well as to all others from whom I have, known or unknown to themselves, received assistance in this little undertaking, which has been performed entirely from motives of love to God and to my neighbor. Gentle reader, receive it in the spirit with which it lias been written. January 1, 1813. PUKFACK TO THE SECOND EDITION. TIIS first edition having neon exhausted and another urgently t-'cu pruumj (IIII:E&IUUB BU|||MM*UI nuij revuiitm, wherever such alterations appeared requisite to the improvement of the work. From the care and pains bestowed on tee prepara- tion of this stereotype edition, the Publishers are induced to hope, it will be found still more worthy of tho patronage of the American community. Feast of St. Francis of Paula, 1845. 2054392 FATHER OSWALD, &c. CHAPTER I. ' Fishing and fiddling were his arts ; at times, He alteied sermons, or he tried at rhymes." CKADBB " '"Vni.'HER have you been strolling, my dearest Emma!" said vilv; rd Setton to his lovely wife, as he met her one dcli- ciou suviaer evening returning' through the lawn to their nap. py home. ' " I have been to visit poor William Smith ; I think he will not be long for this world," answered she, putting her arm with- in that of her husband. " Poor fellow ! I am sorry for it he was always an honest industrious creature. I hope our good friend Dr. Davison ha? been to see him." " Indeed, Edward, I don't believe he has," answered Emma in rather a melancholy tone. "And why not, pray!" said Edward; "surely, when the poor man is likely to be called so soon to his awful account, he requires the succours of religion." " So he thought, and so I thought ; but so did not think Dr. Davison." " Impossible ! But has Smith ever sent for him V " Yes," answered Emma, " he sent for him about three months ago." " And why die 1 he not go to him 1" " He did go thtii one visit," answered Emma ; " I remem- ber it quite well , and he told Smith he could do nothing for him." " Nothing for him !" interrupted Mr. Sefton ; " I have a mind to report him to the bis.iop. I: will be well if his gown is not pulled over his head. ' Noth;n for him !' and so I presume he thinks some Christian.* u:-> die like dogs, as if they had no souls a* all." B FATHER OSWALD. " I was visiting poor Smith at the time, and heard the follow- ing conversation : ' Dr. Davison,' said the poor invalid, ' I have during many years prayed to God to make a 'good death, for I have Telt '.he disease coining on ; but now you tell me you can do nothing for me: yet I have read in my Bible that St. James says, ' When any one is sick amongst you, let him bring in the priests of the church :'* to which Davison answered, ' It is no use wasting my time in talking about it, Smith, because the Archbishop of X quite settled the point some time ago: but read your Bible, and, as I have known you for some time to be a good kind of me called to my long home/' " Well, I cannot understand it," said Edward, rising from the >jneh on which they had been seated; " it would not have been so in good old Mr. Robson's time. I declare I will write to the Bishop of D about it." " It is no use to write to the bishop about it, it an archbishop * James v. 14 KATIIKR OSWALD 3 has already settled it. I think it is a very sad thing to depend on the individual opinions of different clergymen on a point ot so much importance." "Ah, do not lie sad about it, dearest," said Edwatd ; " you know we do not depend upon the opinion o!' any clergyman : \ve can afl rend the Bible, and have a right to interpret it according to our own unbiassed opinion." L-'.tnma suppressed a rising sigh, and Se!'ton continued . " Now I think it clear that poor Smith, in his ignorance, has mistaken the meaning of the Apostle's words: tor James is evi- dently speaking of the miraculous gill o!' hsal'ms, which was given to the Apostles. But miracles, you know, my dear, have long since ceased." "So we are laugh.'." snid Emma seriously, "but I never heard upon what scriptural evidence. Did not Christ say. if we had faith, ' as a grain of mustard seed, we might move moun- tains;* and on another occasion, did he not siy, ' He that be- lievelh in me. the works that I do, lie also shall do, and greater than these .-.hall he do T't Now, I have never read that these promises were limited to time, or place, or persons." " Your reasoning is specious, Etnniu ; but all reasoning is of no avail against. a positive fact: for when do we now see a miracle 1" " I think that is rather a negative fact, which seems to me to argue rather a deficiency of faith on our part, than a failure of promise on the part of Christ," answered Mrs. Seilon. " Pooh, pooh ! Ernma ; put that foolish notion out of your head. The fact is, miracles have ceased, and no more need be said about it." This evasive answer no ways satisfied the mind of Mrs. Se(- ton ; but she could not, or rather durst not, then pursue the ques- tion farther; so turning the discourse, she gently observed " I do not think that poor Smith ex ects a miracle ; but having read the words of St. James, he has it fixed in his mind, ihat the priest ought to be called in, to pray over him, and to anoint him with oil ; for, somehow or other, he fannies it may do him good, and that ' his sins will be forgiven him.' " " What gross ignorance !" exclaimed her husband, ' to think of such a superstitious practice in this enlightened age ! But al. this comes from the fellow's continually running from one fanatical meeting-house to another. He had much better have attended to his own lawful minister, Dr. Davison." "You just now observed, Edward, that we are not obliged tc fo''o\v the opinions of any clerg) man. Now, 1 am sure pool * Matt. xvii. 10 + John xiv. 12 4 FATHER OSWALD. Smith has read his Bible with assiduitv and great earnestness to find out he truth, and if he thinks differently from us, we on^rit not to blame him: besides, his own minister tells him that he can do him no good." " In that Davison is wrong ; we have in the common prayer- "look an express ordinance tor the visitation of the siclc."' " That ordinance, you know, love, prescribes nothing for :he anointing with oil.' Now, this it is which troubles poor Smith the most." " A foolish and superstitious fancy, Emma, and the fellow doe> no! understand the Scripture." " Dr. Davison understands it better, of course, and is, there- fore, right when he says he C'-n do him no good." " I did not say that ; he might at least pray over him. and " " But." interrupted F.rnmn, "does the archbishop understand the Scripture better on this important point V " It seems not." answered her husband ; " it is a subject, how- ever, well worth thought and investigation, and I will silt it to the bottom depend upon that." By this time the sun was down, and the last golden ray of evening hung lingering on the horizon, when they entered the door of their home. Edward retired to his study, and Emma went to her nursery, each musing, somewhat thoughtfully, or. what had passed. At the opening of this narrative, Mr and Mrs. Sefton had been married about five years, and were the happy parents o. three little boys and an infant girl. Mr. Sefton was a strict Protestant, a man of deep feeling and deep prejudice ; very affectionate and very firm ; warmly attached to his wife, but otherwise of a disposition more inclined to severity than mild- ness; was well educated, well read, and made literature his principal pursuit. Mrs. Sefton was the only daughter of a Catholic gentleman, who died when she was a year old ; sh was carefully educated by a Protestant mother, who survived her daughter's marriage but a few months. Emma was nn af- fectionate wife and mother, good, gentle, and amiable to all around her ; but with a great fund of firmness and disinterested- ness of character when called upon to act; possessing a culti- vated mind, much inclined to religion, and exercising hf-rsel' assiduously in charity to the poor and infirm. Mr. and Mrs. Sefton were tenderly attached to each other, and happy in their own domestic circle, endeavouring to diffuse amongst "their nu- merous tenantry, peace and content; and while alleviating the sufferings and relieving the wants of the unfortunate, they often felt peace and consolation in the remembrance of those emphatic words of Scripture, "Charity covereth a multitude of Sins." FATHER OSWALD. CHAPTER II. Another tnd charge sick persons to attend. And comfort those in point of death which lay : For them most needed comfort in the end, When sin. and holl, and death, does mo-t dismay The feeble soul, departing hence away." SPENCER THE individual William Smith, mentioned in the first chnpcei, is one of Mr. Seiton's tenants, the father of a small lamiiy, .\ as it has been hinted, dying of consumption. During the process of this insidious disease, the poor man had abundant time o reflect on the importance of an hereafter, and he oi'ten frit it, \is mind a little doubt, or trembling half-formed fear, whethf he was in the "strait way that leads to lite," and amongst he few. who ' find it." He felt the yearnings of his soul towa Is its Creator. The desire of spending his eternity with Him ind the fears that he might be rejected be. ore the awful judgment of God for not being in the right path o. sal vation, oltei, threw him into the painful agonies of a doubtful and distracte* spirit. He was a well-meaning man. much in- clined lo relig> -a, and whilst in health had oiten gone to pL.ces of different wo, ^hip, of which there are sa many in England, and where of co Tse he had heard many and most contradictory doctrines; and n< -v, on his death-bed, all these things came *o his mind, couplea vith the importance of the ' one-thi.'ig ne- cessary." He trie* to find relief in his Bible, but when he met with texts like thes^: "There is one faith, one baptism, one God ;"* " There shai be one fold, and one shepherd ;"t " Witli- out faith it is impossl, le to please God,": his perplexity and anxiety of mind increased. One day in extreme despondency, he pricked into his Bibk as many will do when their minds are ill at ease, and his eye le- 1 on the following text : ' Is any man sick amongst you ' Lei him bring in the priests of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord ; and the prayer of faith shall save the sick man ; an J the Lord shall raise him up, and if he be in sins, they shall be forgiven him ;" a ray of light seemed to beam on his soul ; he called instantly to his wife, and desired her to go for Dr. Davisnn ; she went, and the result of his visit has been already detailed. From that time the poor man's troubles of mind 'laily increased, and he in vain tried to account to himsell foi * Rp!i. iv. :,. t John . 16. 1 lieu. ii. 6. y Jiiinc* v. 14, 15 6 FATHER OSWALD. tht reasons of that text being written fit all, when his cwn cler gyman to'd him he could do nothing for him. God is ever good to those who seek him with an upright heart. One evening, while his poor wife was endeavouring with all the anxiety of a woman's love, to sooth his mental as well as his bodily anguish, she said to him, " God knows I have no time to read the Bible as you have, William, but I have heard that text, ' Ask, and you shall receive; seek, and you shall find ; knock, and it shall be opened to you,'* and I ha?e asked Cor you, that God may give you peace." " Oh ! Mary," answered he, " and so have I often asked it ; but He does not give it!" "Well, Willie, do you know what I have been thinking? Shall I go and call Mr. Ebenezer, the Methodist preacher'?" " No, no, Marv, by no means. I have often heard him preach, but I never found pence to my soul, I always came away with a he;!rt as heavy and as cold as a stone." " How so 1 Thou usedst to call him a wonderful man." " Aye, so I thought lor a time ; but when I found he WJK' always hammering into us, that God mado some few men to be saved, and all the rest to be damned, I could bear it no longer.*' " Why, that was making God a cruel tyrant.'' " So I thought; and then that 'saving assurance,' which he said all God's elect must have, I could never feel, so my heart fell within me, and I was wellnigh going into despair." " Well, then, I will go and ask that man who they say is so holy, to come and see thee, and talk to thec." " What man V said he, anxiously raising his head fron? hi? painful pillow. " Why, Mr. Oswald, to be sure, the priest at the Catholic chapel. I have heard him preach, and I have seen him visit the sick, and comfort them, and who knows but he might make thee quiet 1" " But, Mary, he would not come to me, he would say I was a heretic but yet there can be no harm in seeking to know the truth. I will do so. Go directly, Mary, that I may sleep in peace." She was off in an instant; and shortly returned with Father Oswald. Father Oswald was eminent for his great talents, and still more for his great piety and sanctity ; he was a professed Father of the Society of Jesus, about fifty, of a fine majestic exterior, and an open, engaging countenance; with a peculiar mixture in his deportment and manner of what is calculated to win ana Luke xi. 9. I FATHER OSWALD. i to twe, of gentleness and compassion, of zeal and of fervour bir. that which forcibly struck even the mast casual observer, was the evident superiority and power his spirit maintained over its earthly tenement, and the great sincerity with which he seemed to feel and to practice the love of God and of his neigh- bour, la a lew minutes he was seated by the siclc man's side, anxiously inquiring if he could be of any use to him. Poor Smith looked up in his face, and, encouraged by the mild be- nignity of his visiter, said 1 have sent for you, Sir, because I am very wretched. I Lope you will pardon the liberty, for I am not a Catholic ; but my own clergyman says he can do nothing for me, and so my wife persuaded me to speak to you." " She did very well ; part of my ministry is to visit the sick, ind comfort the afflicted. Now, tell me in what way I can *erve you You seem ill in body." " Yes, Sir, very ill, but my mind is worse ; I fear I am not in the right way to go to Heaven. Dr. Davison says he can do nothing for me, and yet I find this text (pointing with his finger lo the passage quoted above). Now, what is the use of its being there if they quite neglect it 1 I wish to serve God in the right way, but in the Bible I cannot see quite clearly which it is, and I am very miserable about it." There he paused for want of breath, and Father Oswald answered: "My son, be of good heart, and you will soon be quite happy , it is not from the Scripture alone, that you or any individua\ can find out which is the right way. Tell me, my good man, do you know the Apostles' Creed 1" " I did learn it in my boyhood ; but I have not thought mucfl about it since I began to read the Bible." " Do you believe all the things contained in that creed V " I did believe them when I was a lad, and I think I have always believed them, and do now believe them." " Why do you believe them V " I believe them because I was taught to believe them, and I have never seen any reason to doubt of them." " Who made the Apostles' Creed V " I cannot exactly tell, but I guess the Apostles must have made it. But I do not remember ever to have read it in the Bible/' " Certainly not ; but tell me, why do you believe the Bible 1" " I have always believed the Bible because I have Seen tnugU that it is the Word of God." " Exactly so : now, my good friend, you see that the Apos- tles' Creed and the Bible hare the same authority; for you B FATHER OSWALD. believe both on the same motive because yon nave betn so tnusiit tc believe, and that is as it should be"; for you remem- ber' the Bible says, that Christ sent his Apostles ' lo leach, al! nations.' "* " I see, I see," said Smith, after some reflection ; ' it must be so. But there are so many teachers, teaching 1 such different doclrines, that I do not know whom to believe. And Christ tells us to ' beware of false prophets ;'t and St. Peter, I think it is, says, 'There shall be amongst you lying teachers. '4 How, then, is a poor man to know the true teachers 1" "Nothing more easy, as I trust I shall be able to show von ; for as Christ calls all to the truth, the way to find it must be so plain and easy, ityit the poor and ignorant, if they will not blindly shut their eys, rannot miss it; just as the prophet Isaiah foretold of the Church 3r Christ, ' And a path and a way shall be there, and it shalWre called the holy way: the .unclean shall not pass over it; and this shall be unto you a straight way, so that fools shall not err therein. ' But let us take one thing at a time, and go on with the Apostles' Creed. From whom did you learn the creed V " I learnt it from my mother, poor soul." " And from whom did she learn ill" " Why, I reckon from her father or mother, or from the par- son." " Exactly so ; and thus we go back from son to father, for three hundred years, when we come to the first Protestants. Now, I ask you, from whom did the first Protestants get it V " Eh ! I see what you would be at," said the sick man, with a ghastly, yet artless smile upon his lips. " Why, they must have got it from the Catholics." "So they did, just as they got the Bible; nnd the Catholics received the Apostles' Creed and the Bible equally from the Apostles, and have handed them down from father to son, to the present day; while the pastors of the Church took care that nothing should be changed in the one or the other, and this hand- ing down. Catholics call Tradition ; without which, you see, you could not be sure of your Bible." " 1 see, I see," said Smith, musing as if a new light had bro- ken in upon his mind. After a considerable pause, the sick man, casting a wistful look towards the father, said ' Pray, Sir, go on, if it be not too troublesome." " With the greatest pleasure, my good friend. Do you re- Matt, xxviii. 19. t Matt. vii. 1i 1 2 Petor ii. J $ Is. jc.vcv 8. 1'ATIIKR OSWALIJ. 9 inember one article of the Apostles' Creed, whore it is said, ' 1 believe the Holy Catholic Church 1" " " I remember it verv well, and I have often wondered why we Protestants were taught to believe the Holy Catholic Church, while they tell us that the old Catholic Church was corrupted by all sorts of abominations." "lAvill tell you," said Father Oswald : ''the creed was too well known by all the people, and they could not change it. Now, if the creed be as true as the Bible, there has always been a Huly Catholic Church ; how, then, could a Holy Church be L'led with all sorts of abominations V " That could not be, it stands to reason," said Smith. " And if we are to believe that Church," continued F:ith Oswald," " it could not lend us into error, otherwise we should be obliged to believe a lie." " True, I see it now clearer than ever, and I long very much to know something more about the Catholic Church, or, as the creed calls it, the Hull/ Catholic Church, for I begin to see it must be the right Church." " I will satisfy your pious curiosity immediately. Christ be- ing God, is truth itself, his words can therefore never fail. He founded the tine and only Church, and commissioned St. Peter and the Apostles to preach and teach his gospel to all nations, promising to be wiih them ' all days,' and promising to send on them the Holy Ghost, to teach them all things, and to lead the/n into all truth; now, with the successors of St. Peter and the Apostles, must remain the true faith, and it is to them we must apply to find it." " And where are we to turn to find them 1" sakl Smith, anxiously. " To the ministers of the Holy Catholic Church, mentioned in the creed, and which existed fifteen hundred years before Pro- testants were heard of: this Church teaches the same truths the Apostles taught ; it is founded on a rock, and Jesus has declared, 'The gates of hell shall never prevail against it;' ;md :t is by its decisions we are to know what is true faith, and not by our own explanations of the Bible ; that is, as we receive the Bible from the Church, we must receive the true sen^e of the Bible from the same Church, for if we givea wrongsense to the Bible, it is no longer the Word of God, hut the word of man." "Aye," said Smith, ' thnt stands to reason; and now I see why so many Protestant ministers, all pretending to the Bible, preach such different doctrines, that a poor man knows not which is right and which isAvrong. It must be that they preach thcii own conceits, and not the Word of God." 1 .10 FATHER OSWALD. " So it is, unfortunately," replied the father; "but from this you may learn a useful lesson ; that it is more necessary to have an unerring authority to hand down to us the true sense of the Bible, than to hand down to us the Bible itself." "That certainly seems very plain," said Smith, thoughtfully; '' for there can be but one truth, and the true Word of God can- not say yea and nay, black and white, of the same thing; and yet Protestants and Methodists, and so many others with the : Bible in their hand, all think quite differently one from another." "Exactly so; but Catholics all think alike; with them theie 'is but one faith through all the nations under the sun, because they do not follow their own wild interpretations of the Scrip- ture, but that sense which has been always held by the Holy Catholic Church." " It stands to reason," said Smith, "that if we cannot find the irue sense of the Bible, it would be better to have no Bible at all." Then, looking earnestly in the father's face, he continued, " Do you then think, Sir, that you can be of use to me on my death-bed, and teach me the sure way of going to Heaven 1" " I am certain of it, my son ; as certain as I am of my own existence. I will come and visit you, and explain to you the Catholic doctrines ; and I think when you shall have heard a little more, you shall be much happier than you are now." " Oh ! Sir, I can never thank you enough, and if I should be satisfied with what you tell me, you will then, perhaps, do for me what St. James has ordered." " I trust that may not be yet necessary ; but should it be so, I will not fail, please God, to give you all the comforts and helps that the Catholic Church administers to her departing children. What St. James describes here is Extreme Unction, 'which is une of the Sacraments of the Church administered to dying persons ; but now I shall leave you, and return to-morrow morning. In the meantime be of good courage, and raise your thoughts to heaven, earnestly begging the divine assistance to direct you'in the true path, and may God Almighty bless you !'"' Smith clasped his hands, but could not speak. After the father's departure, he remained, as it were, in a profound reverie (or nearly an hour; but a peace and a calm were at his heart which in his>whole life he had never experienced, and in tha* estate he fell asleep, sweetly reposing in the arms of Divin* I Providence. FATHKR OSWALD. CHAPTER III. " S'ill thnu orrest. nor end wilt find Of erring, i'rorn tne path of truth remote." MILTON THE next day Smith looked with an ardent wish for the hour which Father Oswald had appointed to return; the hour came find passed, and another and another hour succeeded, but no Father Oswald appeared. The eveningshades began to lengthen, and a cloud of despondency passed across the rnind of the sick man , he thought himself abandoned by all. At length Father Oswald made his appearance. " Oh ! Sir." exclaimed Smith, " how glad I am to see you, 1 began to think you would not come again, because I am a her- etic ." " My son," said the father gently, " I have been unexpectedly detained by other pressing duties; but do not think I consider you a heretic. I can distinguish between a poor man who errs through ignorance while he earnestly seeks the truth, and tne man to whom the truth has been sufficiently made known, yet obstinately adheres to his errors, and shuts his eyes against the noonday sun. This latter only I call a heretic." '' God knows, Sir, I have honestly sought alter the truth,'' said Smith, sighing. "And God will bring you to it." added the father. " I hope so, indeed!" ejaculated Smith. " Well, Sir. I ha\*o been considering all this long day on what you told me yester- day about the Catholic Church: but I do not know exactly the right meaning of Catholic. I have been thinking " " Catholic, my good friend, means universal." " Aye, so I have been taught; then, if it be universal, it must take in all sorts of Christians, Church of England, Presby- terians, Independents, Baptists, Methodists, Quakers, Shakers, Ranters, Jumpers, and five or six score more." " I think," said Father Oswald, smiling. " you will find it rather difficult to cram all these into one Church, or to pen them into one fold. Were you to attempt a union like this, you would only build up a new Babel of jarring opinions and confused tongues. But then tell me, how could you be.Lie>:e such a mass of contradictions 1" " True, true," said Smith, after a little reflection. " We can not believe yea and nay of the same thing, that's certain. Now, Sir, since my notion of a universal church cannot stand, pray tell me its true meaning." 12 F,U'1IEIS OSWALD. <: 1 will tell you from your Bible. Let us turn to the commis- sion whirl) Jesus Christ gave lo his Apostles, to plant and prop- agate his Church, and we .-.hall soon see in what sense He in- tended it to be Catholic, or universal. ' All power is given tc me in heaven and in earth. Going, therefore, teach 3-0 all na- Imns ; baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost ; teaching them to observe nil tM>i,ifx whatsoever I have commanded you; and, behold, I am v.-J!h you nil day*, even to the consummation of the world.'* First, the Church established by Jesus Christ must be Catholic or universal with respect to place ' Teach all nations.' " "I see, I see," said Smith, '-and I see, moreover, that no Protestant sect is spread over all nations." " Secondly, the Church must be Catholic in iloclriue, ' teach- ing them to observe all things." " " I see it, I see it; but to be able to teach all things, it must knov; r all things; now 1 am sure the Protestant sects either do not know, or do not teach all tilings which Christ commanded to 1x3 observed, otherwise they would agree in all things, and not teach such contradictions." " Thirdly, the Church must be Catholic with respect lo lime ; ' Behold. I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world." " Let me see," said Smith, " I think the first Protestants be- gan about three hundred years since. Nay, I remember, the beginning of some: the Ranters, the New-lights, and the Old- lights, and Johanna Southcote and Dr. Irving, and half a score more ; and I have heard my father tell of a dozen more in his lime. None of these can belong to the Catholic Church estab- lished by Jesus Christ." "Your reflections," said the father, "are just and natural, but take notice of another thing. Christ promises to be with his Apostles ' all days, even unto the end of time." Now, as the Apostles all died in course of nature, the promise of Christ ex- tends unto all their successors, the l~ache,r$ of the Church through all days: consequently, as long as Christ is with the great body of the teachers of the Church, they cannot go wrong, nor load as into error; so that the doctrine of the Church never stands in need of reform." " I see it clearly." said Smith ; " so that all that a poor man has to do is to inquire what the Church teaches, and he is sure to learn the truth. But, Sir, can you tell me why we are called Protestants?" " It is a name of your own choosing. Your forefathers called * Malt, xxviii. .8, 19. 20. FATIIbR OSWALD. 13 themselves Protestants because they protested against the doc- trine of the Holy Catholic Church ; against the doctrine of that Church which had existed fifteen hundred years in the quiet possession of the promises of Christ." "Ah! Sir, that was an ugly beginning; I will never be called a Protestant again, but I think: I never prn'eMzd." " Formally you never did, lor that reason 1 never called you a heretic ; I only considered you as erring through ignorance. But mind, if you blindly shut your eyes against the light of truth, which you now begin to see, you may easily become au obstinate heretic." ' ; I trust in God," said Smith with a deep sigh, " that will never become my misfortune." " I am confident it never will,' said Father Oswald, rising "but it is growing late; to-morrow I hope to see you at an ear- 'ier hour ; so, good night, and may God bless you.'' Father Oswald continued daily to visit William Smith, and to explain to him simply and distinctly the faith and doctrines of the Catholic Church. It was not long before Smith, with a full conviction of the truth of that Church, was received into its bosom. He made the confession of his sins and his abjuration with great courage ; and having received the Holy Communion and Confirmation, had only to regret not having known the truth, nor having experienced these consolations before. He sought the true iaith with a simple and upright heart, and to such God never denies the knowledge of it ; hi.s intellect was not obscured by worldliuess and vice, nor warped by human respects; so that when the truth of the Catholic iaith was clearly apprehended by his understanding,' his will joyfully em- braced it. Many there are, alas! a countless many, who know and feel where the one true faith is, and either refuse, neglect, or delay to embrace it, from human respects, from fear oi what the world may say, or from the numberless impedi- ments of \vorldliness, luxury, and vice ; but when eternity suc- ceeds to Ime, how will they then bitterly regret not having em- braced tlK, ' one faith of the one God !' Emma Sefton, in the meantime, continued her visits of charity to Smith, and in his humble cottage she met and became ac- quainted with Father Oswald. She often sat awhile, and lis- tened to his explanations and instructions, and she was much surprised to perceive the extreme change in Smith after he be- came a Catholic. The air of tranquillity and peace which beamed in every word and look, even amidst great suffering, struck her forcibly in contrast with the restlessness and misery of mind, which she had continually observed in him but a few 2* 14 FATHKlt <" \YALU short months before. She sr.id j> her own heart, "Iwonaei what can be the cause of thisl aiU I wonder, too, that Father Oswald, and even Smith now, sti'.a so quite certain that the Cai/iolic fai'k is the only true and iv.il one. I wish I could feei FO very very certain as they seem to ,*)?, that the Church of Eng- land is the only true Church but, a.'kr all, it is not of such great consequence whether one is a FiUv^stant or a Catholic, as long as one is good ; Harriet always say* so. My father, to be sure, was a Catholic, but my mother w.w a Protestant, and my husband is an excellent Protestant, and, tt' course, I ought to be what he is ; however, if I feel more uivosy, I will ask him about it, or perhaps Dr. Davison." Tht Harriet to whom in her soliloquy she alluded, was sister to Mr. Sefton, and lived with them ; she was an easy -tempered, fat, ivntented lady, abom forty, who, when religion was the topic, alwa/" said, " It is lit- tle matter of what religion people are, as lorn', vs> they are Chris- tians and do no harm." Her idea of Christianity was mosl comprehensive, not excluding the Jew or tlw Mussulman. 01 even the Papist, provided they lived up to their principles, and did no harm. She had, moreover, a strong ting", of superstition in her character, and readily gave credit to ome^i, dreams, and fortune-tellers. The point which had most struck" Mrs. Selton in what little she had heard Father Oswald eiyOain of the Catholic faith, was the doctrine of the real presenvV. of the Sa- viour in the Eucharist and of Transubstantiation. She, with the generality of Protestants, had always looked up".'.\ the sacra- ment as a commemoration, and when she had taken kt, her sim- ple idea was that she had done a pious action, to p-U her in mind of the Redeemer. To 1 sure, she had heard A, -.me Pro- testants, and even some of the clergy, say, that the} lolieved some sort of a real presence, not easily defined ; but vhe had never reflected on the foundations of their opinion, \i\d hat' always turned away her thoughts from it as a most inc. mpre hensible, nay, repulsive idea. When she heard Father I'.v.tvalt clearly explain and maintain, that unless "we eat tk- fl.c>;\ ant drink /A-. 1 Slond of the Son of God, we cannot have life in v. ," she lelt extremely uneasy, and began to wonder thnt it had iv.va struck her in that light before, though she had read the Senpli \ n so often. She was timid of speaking to her husband aboul u. because his prejudices against Popery were very violent, aij. her father having been a Catholic madeherstill more backwar.-' to open her mind to him. Having several of her father's books, he wever, she determined to examine them ibr further explana- tion. Amongst them she found some books of controversy, and * John vi. 54 FATHER OSWALD. J5 the explanations of the doctrine of Transnbstantiation given therein were so clear, that her difficulties about the Protestant opinion were redoubled. She was, at this time, in daily expec- tation of the arrival of her uncle. General Russell, from the Peninsula, where he had been absent in the wars many yr.ars. The General was a Catholic, and a very staunch one; in early l.'le. he had the misfortune to lose a wile and an only child, to whom he was fondly attached. To divert his grief, he entered the army, where he soon became distinguished by his braver}'. Now he wished to return and end his days on his hereditary estate, ten miles distant from Sefton Hall. The general was of a generous and open character, the avowed enemy of all irre- ligion ; .having all his life openly practised and defended his own faith, and the rites of his own church, he would as soon have surrendered to the enemy the outworks of the fortress un- der his command as he would have yielded the practices of iirosses. beads, relics, and holy-water, to his Protestant antago nist. He used to say to the divines of his own church, " Take you charge of the citadel ; leave the advance posts to my de- fence; lean easily disperse the rabble scouts of the enemy.' He had employed much both of his leisure and talents in detect- ing the absurdities and inconsistencies of Protestantism, which, from his uncommonly quick perception of the absurd and ridicu- lous, cai.x;d the foil iesof the Reformation frequently to come un- der his good-natured, though keen and just sarcasm. From the time Emma began to feel uneasy on the subject of faith, sne be- came still more anxious for the arrival of her uncle ; and about a month from the commencement of her acquaintance wkh Father Oswald, he arrived, to the no small joy of both parties. He was much rejoiced at seeing again the niece whom he had left a laughing sportive child, and who was now almost his only relative ; and she, because she hoped to find in him a fiiend anil adviser in many difficulties, being nearly the only relation re- maining to her since the death of her mother. But we mua> .eave the general to speak for himself in the next chapter. 16 FATHER OSWALD. CHAPTER IV. " A merrier man, Within the limits of becoming mirth, I never spent an hour's talk withal." SHAKSPEARB. BESIDES the general and Harriet, there dined at Sefton Hall nettday Dr. Daviaon. It was not unusual with the person, who was a sleek, rosy, pompous personage, to visit the heiter classes of his parishioners about the hour of dinner ; soil hap- pened this day, and as Mr. Sefton hnd long wished to give him a hint about Smith, he was not sorry for it. During dinner, the general entertained Mr. and Mrs. Sefton with m;iny interesting accounts oi'what he had seen and observed in Portug 1 ; r,d Spain, whilst Dr. Davison as closely interested Harriet will, an nc- sount of his morning sport, and particularly by describing with what masterly art he had hooked a fine salmon trout, and fought with it for an hour, regretting very much he had not sent it to the Hall for this joyful occasion. Harriet, in a sort of half- con fidenti.il tone, consulted the doctor on a strange dream which she had had a few nights before, and which, she greatly feared, foreboded no good. The doctor tried to turn off the discourse, but was obliged to listen to the whole details. He became quite fklgetty, and in his hurry to get rid of the annoyance, overturned the salt. " Be not alarmed," said lie, in a low tone, observing Harriet change colour; "you see the salt fell towards me, so to me the evil betides " This assurance satisfied the good lady, and Mr. Sefton, challenging him to a glass of wine, commenced his premeditated attack about Smith. " It has given me great concern, my dear Dr. Davison," said he, " that you should have lost one of your parishoners.'' Indeed ! I was not aware of it ; who is gone to the next world now." " Not to the next world, not to the next world ; worse than that gone over to Popery !" " Oh, my dear Sir," said the doctor, " I understand you r_c^v you m<^n that man, Smith. Well, well, no great loss ;iO was never a strict Protestant ; but was always poking his i.osi into some meeting-house, or chapel, or conventicle." "Well, Sir," said Edward, with much seriousness, "if you had visited him, as he so particularly wished, during his illness, the parish would not have had this scandal; it is an occurrence infinitely to be regretted." The doctor turned very red, '"a 1 , l^fore his mouJi v>>Ji suffi- liently empty to answer, Emrrsi "\\\d soothingly FATHER OSWALD. 1" " It was very natural, I think, that the poor man should be- come a Catholic, considering the great and kind attentions paid to him by Father Oswa'.d." "Call no man on earth, in that sense, Father, Ma'am," said the Doctor gravely; '-these are words of Scripture." Emma blushed. "I beg pardon, Doctor, Mr. ; really, Sir, I know not how to call you," exclaimed the general; " for Christ forbids me. in the same place to call you Rabbi, that is, doctor or mas- ter." " Humph," said the doctor gruffly. " You lorget, General," interrupted Edward, "that the Lord hath g ; ven some doctors to his Church, and Paul calls himselt Ihe doctor of the Gentiles." " True," answered the general ; ' : and he calls himself Ihe only Father of the Corinthians in very energetic terms."" The doctor reddened with anger. " You profane the Scripture." " i only follow your example, my good friend," answered tne general. Now, tell me, Doctor, would you scruple to be called the Right Reverend Father in God the Lord Bishop of so-and- so, if such a windfall were to happen 1" Dr. Davison put on a sanctified face, and was about to answer, when Edward interrupted him by saying " Before you answer that puzzling question, Dr. Davison, per- haps you will explain to me your objection to visiting the sick." " My dear Mr. Sefton," exclaimed the doctor, li what objec- tion can I have to visit the sick, especially at their last hour, it they should wish to take the sacrament ; hut what more can one do for them 1 besides, they have their Bibles, and Christ orders them to ' search the Scriptures.' " " Oh ! oh !" said the general, " but if people are to search the Scriptures for themselves, of what use are the parsons']" Harriet laughed. "ButI understand you well enough," continued he; "you gentlemen of the clerical gown consider that text as the broad stone on which your Protestant fortress is built." ' Yes, General Russell" said the doctor, getting quite roused, " it is the broad stone of Protestantism on which our impregna- ble Church is built." " Well, Dr. Davison," said the general quietly, " I belong to a Church which Christ founded on a very different rock: I should feel very little scruple in sapping your loundation, ana a train ol gunpowder under it." 1 Cor. iv. 15. 18 FATHER OSWALD. "Aye, aye/' exclaimed the doctor, -that's aiways the way with you Papists ; all your arguments end in blowing up with gunpowder." " I imagine, Doctor," interposed Mr. Sefton, " the general was only speaking metaphorically." " Metaphorically, to be sure," said the general ; " in the styl; of an old soldier." "Nevertheless," continued Mr. Sefton, " I have always con- sidered that text of Scripture as an unanswerable argument in support of the Protestant's right to read the Bible, and of course to lorm his own opinion of what he reads." "Yes," said the doctor, pompously raising his voice with all the dignity of sell-sufficiency ; ' the Bible, the Bible alone is the religion of Protestants ; as long as the Protestant shall hold the Bible, the palladium of his liberty, so long may he defy the efforts of hell and popery! That is the charter of his rights, sealed with the broad seal ot Heaven, and bearing impressed in indelible characters the high behest of God, ' Search the Scriptures.' " " Hold, my good friend," called out the general ; " let not your enthusiasm carry you beyond the bounds of discretion ; allow me to put in a word or two. If I understand you rightly, you maintain that Christ in these words gives an express cnm- manil. to all men, women, and children, to the learned divine and to the unwashed artificer, to search the Scriptures, and con- sequently to judge for himself, to form his own creed, to believe or to disbelieve whatever he may think conlbrmable or con- trary to that sacred code, otherwise the search would be to no purpose V " Certainly, certainly,' said the Doctor. " Excepting," interrupted Edward, ' ; that all strict Protestants must believe the Thirty-nine Articles." " Now, it appears to me," continued the general, " that the obvious and latal consequences of such a mode of proceeding suffice to make a prudent mind doubt, if Christ, in his wisdom, fver gave such a command." " But it is written in the Scriptures, Sir, said Emma.' 1 " Yes, my dear niece, it is written there, and having heard so many Protestants quote it, I have particularly examined this passage with a learned Catholic divine : now, in the English version, the verb sm-rck is rendered in the imper, live mood, which may indeed, but dues not absolutely, imply a command: in the Greek original, the verb is of such form, th;;t it is the same in the indicative and in the imperative mood. I have now a choice before me, and the Latin Vulgate, which often throws FATHER OSWALD. 19 a Jight upon ihe ambiguous expressions of the Greek, unfortu- nately in this instance is equally ambiguous with the Greek; so, both being equally mute, I cannot catch i'rom either the tone of command which might determine me to receive the text, in the imperative mojd. I am now left to conjecture : I study the context, and find that either mood suits wonderfully well. I am therefore left to a tree choice; but as our choice is usually in- fluenced by our liking or our prejudices, I prefer to render the passage in the indicative mood thus: ' Ye search the Scriptures; lor in them ye think ye have eternal life ; and they are they wmch rectify of me, and ye will not come unto me, that ye might have life.' Now, in this form it looks much more like a severe reproach to the learned Rabbis of the Synagogue, than a command to Christians; therefore, Sir, before I admit your command, you must prove to me that my version is wrong; this I defy you to do, and until you have done it, you must consider the broad seal of your charter torn away, and the broad stone of your Protestant fortress blown up to the devil." " Oh! dear uncle," exclaimed Mrs. Sefton, " do not use that wicked word." " Emma," said the general, " I know of no respect due to the devil's name. Really, I do not know whither I can more prop- erly send the whole system, ' which changes the truth of God into a lie,' than to its own father."* Mrs. Sefton blushed, half mortified at the rebuke and hall conscious that she had been " straining out aguat, and swallow- ing a camel/' ' But," said Edward, " according to what you say, the Ca- tholic version also renders the text in the imperative mood." " The Catholic version gives what answers for both, and leaves us the free choice of either, because Catholics do not build their faith on the ambiguous reading of a Greek or Latin verb." " You allow at least, that the Protestant version may be right V said Edward. " Most freely , out I cannot allow that any man acts wisely, who grounds his faith cr risks his salvation on the toss up of a shilling, where there is an equal chance of its turning up heac. or tail," answered the general. " What, exclaimed Doctor Davison angrily, " do you deny that a man who searches the Scriptures with a sincere heart will find therein eternal life?" " It is not tor me to judge the sincerity of any man's heait," answered the general coolly, " nor to set limits to the mercy of * Rom j. 25. 20 FATHER OSWALD. God. I am only now contending that to search the Scripture in the Protestant meaning is not only no command of God, bui is attended with very fatal consequences." " That I defy you or any other Papist to prove," said the. doctor doggedly. "But, my dear Sir," continued the geneia!, "daily experience sufficiently proves these fatal consequences; are not thousands continually searching the Scriptures, 'ever learning 1 and never attaining to the knowledge of the truth 1"* But come; for the sake of argument, as the chances are equal, I will suppose that the Protestant version is right." " Bravo !" exclaimed Edward. " Bravo '" reiterated the doctor. i: But, remember," continued the general, "this supposition affords but quaggy ground to lay a foundation on. However, we will read, ' Search the Scriptures :' still, I can see in these words of Christ nothing like a command laid on any Christian to read and search the Scriptures, and I defy any Protestant to prove such a command." "Why, my dear Sir," said the doctor, "the words are as clear as the noon-day sun." " No doubt," said the general, " but to whom were they addressed 1" " To all men : who can doubt it 7" answered the doctoi decidedly. " I doubt it," said the general, " and you shall hear my reasons for doubting it. Read with attention the whole context. Jesus had healed the infirm man at the probatic pond, on the Sabbath day. For this the Jews persecuted Jesus, 'because he did no' only break the Sabbath, but also said God was His Father, making Himself equal to God.' Christ asserts His divinity in the most unequivocal manner. John had given testimony to this truth ; but Christ received not, needed not, the testimony of men, not even that of the Baptist. But he appealed to the testimony of God manifested by miracles and jirnpkecv ; ' But I have a greater testimony than that of John. For the works which the Father hath given me to perfect, the works themselves which I do, give testimony of me, that the Father hath sent me.' He then appeals to the Scriptures, to Moses and the Prophets, who had foretold so many things concerning him : ' Search the Scriptures, for you think in them to have life everlasting, and the same are they Ihnt give, testimony of mi'.' Now, in all this I cr.n see nothing but a simple appeal to the evidences of the Old Testament, the authority of which the Jews admitted ; or, if I mnsJ admit a command, it was given to the Jews, to l.h * 2 Tin. iii 7 FATHER OSWALD. 21 Sciibes and Pharisees who persecuted Jesus, and who neither believed in the Saviour on the testimony of his miracles, nor on the testimony of Moses : ' For if you did believe Aloses, you would perhaps believe me also; lor he wrote of me ;' but in all this I can see nothing applicable to Christian;." The doctor groaned. "The Saviour," continued the general, " is not addressing his Apostles as disciples; he lays down no rule of doctrine, either how they aro to find out the truth themselves, or how "hey are to teach it to others; to thc-m and to all Christians he holds a very different language : ' Go and teuc.t all nations ;' 1 He who hears you, hears me ;' ' He who will not hear the Church, let him be to thee as the hesthen and the public; n.' " " You have ceitainly taken a new view of the subject," said Edward thoughtfully; " I should not have suspected you, Sir, of being so conversant with the Bible." Tne general bowed ami continued : " You should also reflect that Christ only addressed the learned amongst the Jews, ibr the bulk of the people, Like the greatest portion of Christians for many centuries, did not know how to read, and therefore could not search the Scriptures Certainly, there were no Sun- iay-sehools in those dark ages," added he with a smile. " What a pity," said Mrs. Sefton, h.ilf earnestly, half archly , " but I fear there are no records oi such things in those early times. 1 ' " No," answered her uncle, " you are right, my dear; ana did not the Jews when they heard Jesus teaching, whom they thought to be the son of an humble mechanic, express their wonder, ' saying, How doth this man know letters, having never earned T'* It is thereibre evident that Jesus Christ did not m::ke this appeal to the great mass of the illiterate Jews ; neither can I conceive any reason why Protestants continually din into the ears of the illiterate crowd, ' Search the Scriptures,' unless it be to dupe and deceive them. Had Jesus Christ intended that the world shouid learn his doctrine from a o.^^, he would have written the book himself in a plain, easy style, intelligible to the meanest capacity. Instead of sending his Apostles to preack and teach,, he would have givnn them the commission to teach the ignorant their ABC, arid when they had learned to read, to put his divine book into their hands, and leave them to themselves. Then we should have read in the Acts of the Apostles, and in their Epistles, splendid examples of their zeal and exertions in establishing everywhere Sunday- schools, and day-schools, and Bible societies \" Unfortunately, * John vii. 13. 2 FATHER OSWALD. we find no traces of all this in our present Bible. Na/, more, Jesus Christ should have instructed his disciples in tlw useful art of pa par-making, and, above all, he should have revealed to them the powerful engine of the printing-press ; beca.fise the demand for Bibles would have been so great, that without these twi grand discoveries, it would have been impossible to furnish a suiiicient supply. He should have lelt an authentic copy ol his divine work in every language that then existed, or ever wauld exist to the end of time, and not left it to the ignorance jr nrJice of translators to impose upon the credulous their own productions for his Word." Here Harriet could no longer refrain from laughing outright; and the doctor exclaimed in an angry tone " Stop, Sir, I think you are carrying the joke too far ; the subject is too serious for a jest, and I cannot condescend to treat it in so light a manner. It is not for us to determine what Jesus Christ should, or should not have done; we ought to be content with what he has done." " I perfectly agree with you," answered the general ; " we ought to be content with, what h" has dime ; that is precisely the point in question; namely, whether Jesus Christ has commanded us to search the Scriptures or to hear the Church; yet I can see no joke in demonstrating the absurd consequences which necessarily flow from the Protestant principle; but why do you not answer the reasons I have brought against it from Scripture 1" " Why, really, Sir," said Edward, " there is something plau- sible in them, which, I confess at this moment, I am not pre- pared to answer." Then glancing at Dr. Davison, he added " but I dare say the learned divines of our Church could very easily expose their sophistry." " I am so persuaded," said the doctor, in a very confident tone, " of the wisdom and holiness of our principle, that I shall ever think it my duty to bring to the home of every poor man the pure Word of God ; he can derive nothing but holiness and salvation from that source of eternal truth." " My dear doctor," said the general, smiling, " I am always delighted when I catch a glimpse of Protestantism in reading the Bible; and here \ve are undoubtedly fallen upon real Bibli- cals. The Scribes and Pharisees thought they could find life everlasting in the holy Scriptures. Such, undoubtedly, was jheir opinion, as it is the opinion of modern Protestants. But ivhat certainty had they of the truth of that opinion ? It strikes me that Christ reproves their overweening confidence in that opinion, when he says, ' Yc think in them to have everlasting KATHER OSWALD. 3 e lost ibr ever ? O In us keep the soul embalmed and pure, In living virtue, that wlx.'i) lx>!h must sever, Although corruption may our flame consume, The iinino'rtal spirit in the skies may bloom " NEW MONTHLY MAO A PKW weeks after this, as Mrs. Sefton and Harriet were strolling along the village one -beautiful evening, they perceived the door of Smith's cottage closed, and lights gleaming from the window. This circumstance surprised them, as the sun was still high above the horizon, and the evening very bright. Emma proposed paying the sick man a visit, to which Harriet readily consented. When they entered, they were struck with awe at perceiving that poor Smith was evidently drawing to his last moment, and beholding Father Oswald arrayed in his sa- cerdotal habits holding the Blessed Sacrament in his hand, in the act of administering it to the dying man as his viaticum. Near the bed-side was a small table covered with a clean nap- kin, with two wax-candles burning on either side of a crucifix, Leibre which was placed the pyx in which the Blessed Sacra- ment had been brought ; there were also the sacred vessels containing the holy oils for Extreme Unction. Around trie bert of the dying man were kneeling a lew pious Catholics, with lighted tapers in their hands. Emma felt irresistibly impelled to kneel also, which she did, and shortly after Harriet followed her example, as if ashamed of being seen standing a.one. A.fter Smith had received the viaticum, the father knelt by the little table in silent prayer Ibr a few minutes; nor was this olemn pause interrupted by the slightest noise from any of the 3* 26 FATHEH OSWALD. assistants ; the awful stillness which was there, seemed as the forerunner of that still more awinl one wlm-h was soon to iol- low Father Oswald then rose, and, approaching the sit.-k man, administered to liim the Sacrament of Extreme Unction ; he anointed with the holy oil his eyes, ears, lips, hands and i'eet. repeating, as he made each application, the beautiful and appro- priate iorrn oi prayers used by the Church on these affecting occa- sions. ' May our Lord by this holy anointing', and his own inost tender mercy, pardon thee whatever thou hast sinned by seeing; and so oi' the other senses. During the whole imposing rile, Smith was in perfect possession of his senses; answering and attending to the prayers with the deepest sentiments of devotion ; his heart seemed overflowing with com ort and hope, while his countenance wore an expression of the most perfect calm and resignation. When the holy rite was finished, Smith called his wife to the bed-side, took her hand in both his, and, in a faulter- ing voice, said, " Promise me or.e thing, Mary, before we part. Wilt thou get thyself instructed in the holy Catholic religion V : " Oh ! Willie," replied she, in accents broken by her sobs, " ] nave heard and seen too much in thy long sickness, not to wish to make as good an end I promise thee." ' : I believe thee: thou wast always faithful to thy word and thou wilt take our poor children to learn their catechism lium Father Oswald V " I will." She could say no more, for her heart was full. " Then I die content. Thanks be to God '" said the poor suf- ferer. After a few minutes, during which Smith seemed to be ab- sorbed in prayer, he stretched out his hands towards Mrs. Set- ton, which she perceiving, approached the dying man, and asked him what she could do lor him. " Thank you, Madam, thank you ; you have been very good to me, God reward you you are not angry at rny change you have told me so. Do not forget my poor orphans." " 1 will take charge of them, William ; think no more ot that." " Thank you thank you. God " his voice failed. " Tell me, William," 'said Mrs. Sefton, .while the big tear trickled down her cheek, " do you die quite happy 1" "Happy! oh, yes, yes. Oh! Mad;;m, if you knew." His strength failed him. and he could utter no "more. For some lime he continued to move his lips in prayer, but nothing more was distinguishable from time to time, but the sacred names, ' Jesus Saviour Mary mother." It was evident to all present that a few minutes more would FATHER OSWALD. 27 .iberate the soul from its sinking tenement. Father Oswald seated himself to support the head of the expiring Christian, and from time to time presenting the crucifix to his lips, suggest- ing brief acts of faith, hope, the love of God, contrition, resig- nation, and fervent aspirations, "to be dissolved and be with Christ." The assistants all knelt around the bed, and recited the Litanies tor the recommendation of the soul, and Fathcj Oswald continued the touching prayers which follow them, be ginning " Depart, Christian soul, out of this world, in lh< name of God the Father Almighty, who created thee ; in tin name of Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God, who sufferci for thee ; in the name of the Holy Ghost, who sanctified thee.' When he came to the words, " May Jesus Christ, the Son o) the living God, place thee in the ever verdant lawns of his par- adise, and may He, the true Shepherd, acknowledge thee for one of his flock," a very slight sigh was heard, and Emma, whose eyes were fixed on the dying man, saw that he had ex- pired. At that moment the last and richest gleam of the setting sun shone into the poor cottage, and reposed on the face of the departed Christian, rendering, if possible, with its vivid ray, more vivid still the ardent expression of faith, and hope, and love, which had not yet died off from the countenance of the cold and still remains of the dead. There was a mournful si- lence of some minutes, broken only by the sobs of his poo) wife and children. Father Oswald then recited in a low and tremulous voice the " De pro'undis" and some other short pray- ers for the repose of the soul just gone to eternity ; he then rose, and addressed a few words appropriate to the occasion to those around him : " You have," said he, " just witnessed the entrance if a poor but good man into the house of eternity How calm, how peaceful, how lull of bright hope was his departure hence I cannot doubt of the merciful reception which he has met with in the presence of his God. This blessed confidence he received from the holy faith, which he so lately found and embraced You have all long known our deceased brother to have been r.n upright and honest man, blameless in his conduct, and of greai gcod sense. He had a long time indeed wandered from sect to sect, from error to error, but this was the effect of his r.rdoui ana sincerity in the search alter truth. For many years be wa^ : tossed to and fro with every wind o t doctrine,' until God, hear ing his prayer and seeing the simplicity of his heart, conducted him to that haven, where alone he could cast securely the anohot of his faith. There he found peace and repose to his sou). Well, then, may we bless God, saying, ' Thou hast hid these things from the wi.se and prudent, and hast r evealed them 28 f'ATHKR OSWAf,U. little ones.' "* The nying accents of Smith and the few vr?rrls of the Father sunk deeply }>;>? FATHER OSWALD. 31 .ver considered as dark, designing, and mysterious, w.iose mem- bers would not hesitate to commit any crime tor the service ot llieir cause. Still there was something in Father Oswald's manners and observations which piqued his curiosity and his love of literature. Moreover, Edward's love of discussion raus.tl him to feei a certain pleasure in the company of thi? member of the Society of Jesus which he could not, however, he wished it, conceal from himself. Emma had just given him the account of the administration of Extrsme Unction, at poor Smith's, and Edward could not resist lue desire of attacking Father Oswald on this point. " It seems to me, Sir/' said he, "that you Catholics take a most erroneous view of what you call the sacrament of Extreme Tj action ; because, as it is mentioned in the New Testament, it evidently reiers to the gift of healing; whereas, now, none ol .ho effects follow which are ascribed by the Apostle : !6r, docs he not say that the sick man shall be raised up again? and 1 have just been told that your sick man. after you gave him Ex- treme Unction, became more sicic, and, instead of being raised up, is gone down into the grave." " My dear Mr. Seiton," replied Father Oswald mildly, " ac- cording lo your explanation of this text, no one would have died in the time of the Apostles; for, certainly, if by calling in the 1'Jds.rs of the Church, as you translate the word, (not very wise- Iv. I think.) who would have neglected so easy a means of re- covery from corporal inh'rmiiy 1 But this mystery, as you justly observe, is considered by the Catholic Church as amongst hef sacraments.'" ' I should like ranch to know, however, how you can prr.7> it so," interrupted Edward. " We have in it," said Father Oswald, " an out-icard sign r svmbol, ' anointing him,' namely, the sick person, ' with oil, b the name of the Lord,' and a promise of inward grace, ' ah the prayer of faith shall save the sick man, and the Lord sha" raise him up; and if he be in sins, thev shall be forgiven him Tvo effects oi this outward sign are distinctly specified: fir? sani'tifying grace with the remission of sins, which is the pric :ipal effect of the sacrament ; and secondly, the raising up c liealing of the sick man, when it shall be for his spiritual a**- vantage; but this secondary effect does not always tak* rlacr neither did it in the time of the Apostles, as I have jtut ot served. Catholic priests, however, who administer the sacia ment, knoy well that this secondary effect often occurs e/er now. The 'prayer of faith' is the form of the sacrair>nt use* b>' the priest when he ' anoints the sick man ;' it is a depreca 3'2 FATHER OSWALD. lory form, and derives its efficacy from the faith of the Church in the Word and promise of Christ." " Yes, yes," said Sefton sarcastically, "faith of the Church is .the means by which you papists get out of many difficulties, be they ever -so contrary to common sense." "I cannot see any thing contrary to common sense in this explanation of the text in question," replied Father Oswald ; " much less do I see any thing contrary to common sense in us weak mortals submitting our understandings and our often-erring reason to the God of all truth, who cannot have revealed to us .ihat which is false." ' No, no," exclaimed Edward eagerly ; " I grant you there is nothing contrary to common sense in submitting our reason h> the G^d of truth ; it is not that I object, to by any means, but ln r blindly giving up the use o! our understanding to fellow- sinners like ourselves: for I believe it is the Catholic doctrine, -that when once their Church has decided a thing to be an arti- cle of faith, that you are all obliged, under pain of damnation, lo believe it." "Yes, we are," answered the father calmly; "but in thus submitting our understanding to the Church, we do not suhmu it to a human, but to a divine authority; and in so doing, il is mv poor opinion that we show a great deal of common sense." ' How sol" said Emma hesitatingly. " Because, my dear Madam, as we believe the Gospel ot Christ to be a divine book, so we believe that none but a divine authority can expound the same,' 1 said Father Oswald; "and in this we are confirmed by St P^ter, who says, that ' no proph- ecy of the Scripture is made by private interpretation."* Now, Mr. Sefton, will you tell me candidly if you believe in the divi- nity of Jesus Christ, or not?" " Most certainly I do," said Edward; " how can you doubt 111" " Because many of our countrymen who read the Bible will- as much assiduity as you do, not only doubt, but deny the divin- ity of Jesus Christ. Now, if you believe that Jesus Christ is Gk:c , you will acknowledge that His promises must be infallible, ;:nu must be fulfilled.''' " Naturally, t must believe so," said Sefton, " for, being God. His words must always and ever have the same truth as they iiad the moment Fie uttered them." "Then," continued Father Oswald emphatically, "you must, according to common sense, believe the Redeemer when he vays to St. Peter, ' Upon this rock I will builc! rnv Chm-eh. nrnl * 2 Peicri. 2< FATHKR OSWALD. jr ihs gates of Hell shall not prevail against it.'* IP the Church could possibly teac.h damnable errors or fail in the true interpre- tation of Scripture, then the gates of Hell could prevail against her, contrary to the above promise, and contrary to Christ's ex- press words, when He says, ' Go ye, and teach all nations, bap- tizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son. and of e from prayer before she felt her soul at peace. CHAPTER VII. " Danger may gather round thee, like the cloud Round one of Heaven's pure stars, tliou'lt hold Within thy course unsullied." BY this time Weetwood, the ancient seat of general Russell's ancestors, was ready for the reception of its master, and the general IOOK up his residence there, amid the beautiful and ro- mantic scenery of his " careless childhood." The house was ancient, but in excellent repair, and the old chapel still preserved its Gothic windows, with richly painted glass, casting hues of gold and purple, over the beautiiul pavement and altar which remained remnants of times gone by sweet relicks of the taste of our ancestors in the Ages of Faith, when the Catholic religion was the only one in England, and when the old religion of the Apostles was thought sufficient; before the intellectual pride of man had poured forth in Porteus form, a brood of dis- cordant sects which now overspread the land. This hallovsd 42 FATHER OSWALD. sanctuary had, in fact, withstood the storms of the Reformation, and time had so slightly rwept its sculptured treasures, that his touch seemed but to have mellowed and enhanced the exquisite beauty of the chiselled ornaments which so profusely and ap- propriately adorned it. The paintings, too, were in the finest preservation, gems from the chaste and luxurious pencils of Guido and Murillo. The general loved this spot, and never, during the long years of his absence, was its remembrance ef- faced from his mind. Often and often, in the toil and turmoil ' of war, when danger threatened him nearest, did he wish him- self before its holy altars, which were associated in his remem- brances with all the feelings he had experienced in his infancy and early manhood feellrgs of piety, and peace, and holiness, associated, too, with the memory of nis long lost and lamented wife, who had shared with him, during their brief union, all the soothing and holy sentiments which do honour to the man and lo the Christian. Wectwood was ten miles from Sefton Hall, and after the general had been settled there for some little time; he wrote to beg Mr. and Mrs. Sefton to come with their family to visit him ; this they accordingly did, and during the first month of their visit, saw a great deal of company, all the neigh- bouring families coming to renew their old acquaintance with General Russell. At the end of a month Mr. Sefton was sud- denly called to Devonshire, on business relating to some pro- perty he possessed there. At the general's earnest request, he left his wife and children at Weetwood, where they remain- ed during his absence. It was during this period that Mrs. Selton obtained much information on the Catholic religion, which, owing to her particular situation, she almost feared to seek ; but though her will remained wavering in this state of irresolution, her understanding became daily more convinced, and her heart daily more uneasy ; how often did (he thought come to her mind, " What will it avail me if I enjoy all the happiness this world can give, and lose my own soul?" This was frequently her waking thought, and if she chanced not to sleep during the night, her thoughts, in spite of herself, constantly recurred to the same subject. She felt a void in every tiling, an uneasiness and distaste in the discharge even ol those duties dearest to her heart; she felt a want of something, and a shrinking, timid fear of investigating her own conscience as to what this something was. If she tried to pray, she lelt a distraction, a hardness and drvness of heart, painful in the ex- treme. She could not long endure this agonizing state, and she sought an opportunity of opening her mind to some one. About this time, there came to Weetwood the Catholic bishop of the J'ATEIER OSWALD 43 iiocese, Dr. Thornton ; the object of his visit was to confirm the children of the congregation, and to administer to them their first communion: there were about thirty of them. Ernma witnessed this touching ceremony, and she felt her heart melt with tenderness at the sight of these little innocents appioaching I he holy altar to receive their Saviour and their God. "And i:an I never do so 1" exclaimed she, covering her face with her hands, to conceal the tears which gushed from her eyes as she Knelt in the little chapel, looking at this beautiful spectacle: the anguish of her heart became too intense and oppressive to en- dure, and she determined that evening to open her mind to thfi bishop. She accordingly told her uncle she wished to speak alone to the bishop. The general seemed affected, but not sur- prised at her request ; he bade her follow him, and conducted her to the sacristy belonging to the chapel, telling her to wait there. This little sacristy was of the same architecture as the chapel, though not so much ornamented ; its arched roof was at once simple and striking; the window was of very rich painted glass, representing the last supper, the glowing luxuriance of the tints casting a mellow and sombre light into the interior of the building, calculated to promote thoughts of calmness and recollection. Ernma had never been there before ; and though she was very much agitated during the time she was waiting, she could not help remarking the air of stillness and beauty that reigned within its walls. At length, the door opened, and the bishop entered : he was a venerable-looking prelate, about sixty years of age, with hair perfectly white, and a countenance beam- ing with piety and benevolence. He approached Mrs. Sefton, and seeing her extreme agitation, he begged her to sit down, saying " Your uncle, my dear Madam, told me you wished to speak to me ; in what can I serve you 1" " You are very good, my Lord ; I wished to speak to you in- deed : because I am very unhappy ; you are aware I am a Pro- Mstant." " So I have been told ; but from your constant attendance in the chapel, I should be led tc believe you a Catholic." " No, I am not a Catholic , mv father was one, but my mother was a very good Protestant, and brought me up in that Church ; etill. though I am not a Catholic, 1 have no objection to the Catholic religion, and I think I should like very much to becomt one, if it were not for an insurmountable objection." "My dear child, there can be no insurmountable objection which the grace of God cannot overcome; do you know i was once a Protestant T' 44 FATHER OSWALD. " Yon, my Lord !" exclaimed Emma in great surprise. " Yes ; 1 was a Protestant till I was one-and-twer.ty years ft age." '' And why, then, did you change your religion 7" " Because I was convinced that the Catholic religion is the only true one." " But how, Sir, did you get courage to take the decided step, or perhaps there was no c/ne who opposed you 1" " Yes, my dear Madam, I met with great opposition from my parents, for I was their eldest son ; but Almighty God gave me the strength I needed." " Oh, that the same God would give me strength !" exclaimed Mrs. Sefton, "Oh, that He would enable me to do what is right! but 1 have difficulties, very rery great difficulties." "What is impossible with man is possible with God," said the bishop; " if you mention vour difficulties to me, perhaps I may be of .some service to you. 1 ' Mrs. Sefton then stated all her difficulties, the sum of which was the fear of her husband ; and she ended by asking him, if in his conscience he thought she could not be saved by lead- ing a moral, good life, without openly embracing the Catholic doctrines." " My dear child," answered the bishop, " every thing in reli- gion is connected and linned together; the morality of the Gospel cannot be separated i'rom its doctrines : they reciprocally support and enforce one another. We are to obey the precepts of Jesus Christ, not only because they appear to us conformable to reason and truly sublime, but because they have been en- joined by Him who is the sovereign truth, and who has an tin- conlrovertible right to command our ready and unreserved obe- dience. Now. my dear Madam, from what you tell me, you seem quite convinced that the Catholic religion is the true and only religion founded by Jesus Christ. Is it not sol" " Yes, my Lord, you have expressed what I feel." "Well, then, I am bound to tell you, that yen cannot save your immortal soul without giving to Jesus Christ the obedience of faith which he requires of you; but take courage, there is nothing so difficult in this. Did you ever read the History ol St. Perpetua and St. Felicitasl" " No. Sir, I never did." " Well, they were both married women, and Perpetua was o! a noble family; at the time of her martyrdom,; for she gave her life in defence of her faith she had an infant at the breast, and suffered much from her father on account of her constancy vO Jesus Chiist; the parting i'rom her infant, you may imagine, FATHER OSWALD. 45 was most sensible to her tender heart. Felicitas became a mother in the prison where they were both detained for the faith, and sh3 and Perpetua shortly after suffered a cruel martyr- dom with the greatest courage and constancy. Now, my dear child, these were delicate females like yourself, wives and Tno.hers, who gave that which was dearest to them in this world, namely, their lives, for Jesus Christ, and not only they, hut hundreds and thousands of others did the same; for, rather than deny Jesus Christ, they left their husbands, and wives, and fathers, and mothers, and children, and every thing else that was dearest to them ; but I recommend you to read the wholt account of St. Perpetua and -St. Felicitas in the Lives of the Saints." " But these, Sir, were martyrs, and that all happened in the first ages of Christianity.* 1 "Assuredly they were martyrs; but if you reflect a little, you will perceive that if it was necessary to part with one's life rather than one's fat/A in the first- ages of Christianity, in order to obtain eternal salvation, the very same obligation exists wow ; because the religion that Jesus Christ founded, the religion that existed in the first ages of Christianity, and the religion taught by the Catholic Church now, is all one and the same thing ; and as you have read a great deal in the Holy Scriptures, you may recollect our Saviour's words when he says, ' Every one there- lore that shall confess me before men, I will also confess him before my Father, who is in Heaven. But he that shall deny me before men, I will also deny him before my Father who is .in Heaven.' "* Mrs. Sefton sighed, and the bishop continued: 8 You will remember also what St. Paul says, ' With the heart ?ve believe unto justice ; but with the mouth confession is made : .?nto salvation ;'t you see therefore, ray dear lady, that to be laved, it is not sufficient that we hold the right faith in the heart, but we must openly with our lips process it to the world, as the martyrs did." " But there are no martyrs in our times 1" said Emma, in- quiringly. " I beg your pardon ; there are many, even in the present ray; though of course not so many as in the first ages of the Church, because Christianity has almost in every part of the kuown world, triumphed over paganism and idolatry. I can plicv.* you several interesting accounts of different Catholic mis Eions, ; .n which you M'ill find more than one martyr mentioned." "Thank you, my Lord, I should like very much to see thesr accounts; but, after all, the martyrs must have had a verygrea * Matt. x. 32. 33. f Rom. *. 10. 46 FATHER OSWALD. and extraordinary help from Got!, to sire them so much courage," said Mrs. Sefton, with an anxious sigh. " The same God that gave them courage, can give you cour- age,' replied the bishop with emotion ; " besides, you are not required to give your life for Christ, but only to bear, for his sake, the displeasure of your husband, supposing him even to be seriously displeased with you." " God only knows," said Emma, in a tone of great agitation, K what t shall have to bear, if I attempt to do this." "But do we not serve a tender and a loving Father"?" said the bishop. " Nay, I am convinced that, however He may per- mit you to be afflicted for a while, He will console you in due lime. Act generously with Him, and He will not be outdone vith generosity. From the very evil which yon dread the most. He will draw the greatest good. Take courage, then, and joy- fully embrace the cross from which you recoil, for the sake ol hat Saviour, who. to save your immortal soul, died upon a cross amid the most cruel and protracted torments. Yes, my dear child, in order that you may possess eternal bliss, He became the ' man of sorrows.' " Emma wept. " Go now," continued the bishop, opening the door which led to the chapel, and leading her to the altar of the Blessed Sacra- ment, "go now, and ask that Saviour, in whose divine and real presence you believe, to give you the courage you want ; go, and ask Jesus to give you one spark of that divine love which ournt in the breasts of the martyrs." Emma knelt down before the altar, and the bishop retired, and leit her alone with her God. She did pray ; and she prayed so ferventlv from her heart, that He who has said, " Ask, and you shall ree< ive ; seek, and vou shall lind ; knock, and it shall be opened to you,"* did give her the courage she so humbly asked for. In three weeks from that rime Emma was a Catholic. Father Oswald, by her par- ticular wish, came over, from time to time, from his mission, to instruct her in the practical duties of the Catholic religion, for of her faith he had no doubt; she had received that precious gift from God, and, with the docility of a child, submitted her understanding to every dogma taught by the Church; he also received her abjuration and heard her confession. This, indeed, was a severe trial for Mrs. Sefton ; for, although in the eyes ot the world the whole tenour of her life had been irreproachable, and she had ever been esteemed a model of virtue and innocence vet her tender conscience smote her inwardly for many and, a! * Luke xi. 0. FATHER OSWALD. 47 the thought, grievous transgressions of the law of God. To manifest these misgivings of her inward souJ to a sinful man, appeared to her yet unsubdued pride, an intolerable task. But after she had been instructed by Father Oswald in the nature of the divine precept, and had been made sensible of its reasona- bleness, she strengthened herself with fervent prayer, and ap- proached, with trembling limbs, to the sacred tribunal: for some time she could not open her lips ; but, being encouraged by the kind exhortations of the good father, at length summoning cour- age, she mentioned those things which lay heaviest on her con- science; a flood of tears followed the avowal, and in an instant she Ibund her heart relieved from an unsupportable burthen. Father Oswald, with the kindness of a parent, consoled and en- couraged her ; then, enjoining a slight penance of some vocal prayers, absolved and dismissed her. Then, for the first time in her life, did she feel truly happy, learning from experience how sweet is the yoke, how light the burthen of our merciful Redeemer. The ?ood bishop shortly after confirmed her, and administered to her for the first time the Holy Eucharist. Then Emma was happy indeed ; she felt within her breast a satiety of peace a fulness of hope, of which before she had not the slightest idea. While a Protestant, she had always felt with regard to her religion, that there was a something wanted, and that there was an undefinable uncertainty of ideas in her mind, a painful uneasiness lurking about her heart, which prevented her ever being able to say, with decision and without doubt, I am certain that I am in the right road to Heaven. But now it was quite otherwise ; there were no misgivings in her heart no vagueness in her ideas; both her heart and her understand- ing told her she was in possession of the right faith, and this certainty produced an indescribable peace and happiness through ner whole soul. She knew now there was but "one faith, one baptism, one God," and she wondered within herself that she could have remained so long in the trying state of interior doubts, and uncertainties, and sufferings, which she had endun.-d for many months past. Now all was light, and peace, and joy in her soul : her innocent pleasure and zest in all her daily du- ties and occupations returned double fold ; she seemed to be blessed with a new existence. Sometimes, to be sure, the thoughts of what Edward might say came across her mind ; but her faith was so firm in that God " who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb," that she abandoned herself with an entire confi- dence into the arms of her heavenly Father ; and placed all her hopes for defence and protection in "Him who slumbereth noi, nor sJeepeth." FATHER OSWALD. CHAPTER VIII. "Sweetest Saviour, richest blessing, Thou the wounded heart caressing, Driest, ere it fill, the te;ir. All, save thee, will but deceive us ; All, save thee, can only grieve us ; Let the world of all bereave us, With thy love e know no fear." CATUOLTC limn. A FEW weeks more, and Edward returned. He was delighted to clasp again to his breast his wife and little ones, and he was particularly rejoiced to perceive the evident improvement in Emma's spirits and appearance. All her natural amiable vi- vacity and sweet cheerfulness had returned; her eye, which had latterly become downcast, was again lit up with its dove-like lustre ; and her cheek, which for some months had been pallid, again resumed the returning bloom of health ; she had never appeared to the eyes of her husband more lovely nor more inter- esting. The general would keep Ihem a little longer, and these were to Emma days of pure and delicious happiness. At length the day of parting came, and they returned to Sefton Hal!. Emma knew that she was under an obligation of hearing mass on all Sundays and holidays, from which nothing could exempt her but sickness or serious inconvenience: she felt very much embarrassed at thinking how she could fulfil this duty without attracting Edward's notice and incurring his anger. The first Sunday after their return home, she availed herself of an en- gagement previously made, of visiting a lady, a Catholic friend of hers, who lived in the neighbouring town of D , to go there, and thus, besides paying her a visit, was able to hear mass also. The next Sunday she did not find it so easy, as Edward asked her to go with him to church ; however, she de- .ermined that when they had arrived at D she would make a request of being allowed to remain with her friend \vhil.. her husband went to church : she did so, and thus was able to hear mass another lime, without exciting suspicion. During the en- suing week, Edward mentioned to her that he thought they should take the Sacrament the following Sunday, as they had been some time from home. Emma changed colour, and fell very much frightened ; but as Edward was writing a letter when he made this observation, he neither observed her confusion, nor noticed that she had given him no answer. Emma felt very uneasy all the week; but she prayed a great deal that God would give' her strength to act rightly, and not to deny her faith FATHER OSWALD. 49 On the last day of the week, Mr. Sel'ton after breakfast said lo his wife ' I will thank you. Emma, to mention in the family that to- rr.orrow is Sacrament Sunday ; and to give orders for Thomas tu have the carriage and horses at the door by nine o'clock, be- cause it will be better to go a little earlier, you know, love." " Edward, 1 do not think I shall be able to go with you ti- rnorrow," said Emma timidly. " Why not, love 1 I trust, you do not feel yourself ill !" "No, I am not ill, but . . ." here she seemed overcome, "but..." " But what 1 what objection on earth can you have to go with me to-morrow 1" Emma hesitated. " It is some time now since you have been to church, Emma, and I must beg oi' you as a favour to go with me there to-mor- row. 1 ' Emma was silent. " This is not like your usual conduct, Emma. I need scarcely tell you, I think that not approaching the temple of the Lord and appearing sometimes in church is a bad example to others; but I shall say no more about it, lor my Emma never opposes her husband's wishes," said he, kissing her, " so it is all arranged." Emma looked up in his face with an imploring gaze; then timidly cast down her eyes, and said faintly, " My dear Edward, 1 cannot go." " What is all this 1" said he, looking at her sharply : while a vague suspicion of ihe truth suddenly flashed across his mind. Emma looked terrified and was silent. " These are some nonsensical popish ideas you have got into Vour head." continued he ; " come, come, let me hear them, and I will soon settle them tor you." Emma was still silent. " Now, Emma," said Mr. Sefton, with a. determined air, :: will you go with me to church to-morrow V' ' 1 cannot, Edward." "And what is the reason that you cannot, Emmal" " My conscience forbids me." "Why does your conscience forbid you 7 ? I cannot under- stand; you must explain yoursell," said Edwaix/, much agitated. ' Oh ! Edward, do not i)c angry with me." " I am not angry with you, Emma, hut 1 must know what all this is ahout ; why does your conscience forbid you 1 answer me that." " I do not think the Protestant religion is the right on?. 1 ' "Not the right one! what nonsense: it is the papists who 5* 50 FATHER OSWALD. have put all this stuff into your head. I insist upon your gcing to church with me to-morrow." " I cannot," said Emma, bursting into tears ; c: I can never more join in Protestant worship." " No ! and why notl" exclaimed her husband, fixing his gazo intently on her. " Because I have embraced the Catholic religion," said she, in a mingled tone of firmness and anguish. " You a Catholic !" answered Edward, turning pale; "what ("o I hear 1 Oh my God ! . . . Emma, you have not dared, no, surely you have not dared to do such an act as this. But no, my poor clear wife ! they have deceived you, they have deluded you. You little know what papists are ; they are capable of any thing to make proselytes." " No; I have neither been deceived nor deluded," said Mrs. Sefton firmly ; " it has been the act of my own free will, on the firmest conviction of the truth." " But when, and how, and where could you accomplish this T' said Edward, with increased agitation. " f became a Catholic when you left me at Weetwood.'' ''It is, then," said Mr. Sefton, indignantly, " as I suspected; it has been the work of your uncle. Would to God he had never returned ! No doubt he was aided too, by that Jesuit, Oswald ! You have had interviews with him, I am certain of it ; tell me the truth." "Yes; he instructed me in the Catholic religion, but it was by mv own desire." " Villain ! hypocrite ! true Jesuit ! Who can follow the wind- ings of such wretches 1" exclaimed Edward with great warmth. Emma was shocked at his violence, and, summoning courage, said with some archness of look, "Methinks the best way of stopping their audacity would be to follow them through all the subtleties of their arguments, and openly expose their sophistry ; when a person begins to scold, and use harsh words, one cannot help having a little suspicion that there is a tougb adversary to deal with, and that there is nothing better to give him in reply." Edward was still more provoked. "Do not talk such non- sense to me," said he ; " you little know the arts of Catholics and Jesuits ; but it is not yet too late ; this sad affair has not yet be- come publicly known, and therefore, if you appear with me at church to-morrow, all will yet be well." "Edward," said Emma firmly, and with unwonted energy, " I have from conviction become a Catholic. I have ahju-.'ikl the errors of the pretended Reformation, and been received into FATHER OSWALD. 5l che bosom of the Catholic Church, and I will not deny Jesns Christ before men, or He will deny me before His Father, who is in Heaven " " This is all religious enthusiasm all Catholic cant. I give you one hour, Emma, to make up your mind, and to give me your answer; but beware v " said he sternly, " Ibr if you con- tinue obstinate, you will rue it to the last hour of your life." When Mr. Sefton had left the room, Emma sunk on her knees : she trembled so. that she could not stand she held both her hands lightly over her throbbing heart she scarcely knew where she was, nor what she felt, so great was the sense of op- pression and terror which overwhelmed, her. Alter a few minutes, a deep sigh burst from her, and, clasping her hands, she lifted them to heaven, and said with intense fervour, " Jesus Christ, Lord of all things, Thou seest my heart Thou knowest my desire, possess alone all that I am. I am thy sheep, Thou aft my Shepherd ; I was thy strayed and lost sheep ; out of thy pure goodness and tender mercy Thou hast sought and brought me back, like the good shepherd, to thy own fold. Oh ! speak to my soul, for I am willing to hear thy voice, and give me strength to overcome the wiles of the enemy, the allurements ol the flesh, and the strong attachments of my nature. Let no earthly considerations ever separate me from thy love. Be thou my God, ray protector, my salvation." She continued in ardent prayer during that fearfully anxious hour which passed before her husband's return ; and He, who never forsakes those that trust in Him, did he.tr her humble cry, and He filled her heart with a calm and determined courage of which she could never have believed it capable. When Edward re-entered the room, Emma rosa from her knees, and stood meekly before him. He drew her kindly towards him, and placing her on the sofa, he seated himself close to her. " I am come," said he, "to hear from the lips of my own Emma, that she will be to me all she has ever been ; to hear her tell me, that the wife of my bosom and the mother ol* my children will realize, as she has hitherto done, all the fond and ardent dreams of my first affection." Emma threw her arms passionately round her husband's neck ; his voice faltered as he added, " To-morrow you will go ivith me to receive the Lord's Supper, and then all will be for- gotten and forgiven." Emma looked wistfully in his face, and she saw that the tears were falling from his eyes: she had never in her life seen Edward weep, and all a woman's tenderness and love rushed with a thrill of anguish to her heart; she clasped her hands in agony. " Oh ! my God," exclaimed she, " help me." And 52 FATIIKR OSWALD. then, alter a pause of deep and fearful agitation, she sa:t in a .ow, hut firm and calm voice " Listen to me, my own husband, I have but one soul, and il I lose that, I shall be damned for ever; to save your life, or to procure your salvation, I would willingly give my life at this moment, but /must answer to God for the immortal soul He has given to me, and which is created to love Him through an endless eternity. It is God who will demand my soul of me at the last day, the day ol' judgment, and not you. I am convinced, after much prayer and deliberation, and mature examinaliui and reflection, that the religion I have embraced is the only true religion, and that to save my soul I must live and die a Catholic." Edward started up ; she threw herself on her knees, and tried to cling to him ; he spurned her from him, and rushed out of the room. In a few minutes, she heard a horse galloping past the win- dows, a crowd of vague and undefmable terrors passed through her mind ; she remained motionless on the spot where Edward had left her, till she was roused by the cries of her little infant, whom the nurse brought to be suckled. She took the child and mechanically placed it at her breast ; the nurse seeing there was something the matter, immediately retired, and left her alone with her baby. When she had had it a little while in her arms, her tears began to flow, which gave her some relief; she pressed the child so tightly to her heart, that the little inno- cent bit her breast, and then paused in its sweet labour to gaze in its mother's face ; but seeing her smile upon it through her tears, it again closed its little, eyes, and abandoned itself to all the luxury of infantine love. " And when thou shalt be a man, wilt thou too spurn thy mother !" said she, fondly caressing it, " but now, oh ! now at least, thou lovest me entirely, and 1 am all to thee." What a long, long day did that seem to poor Emma. Mr. Sefton did not return, and a thousand distracting thoughts and tears racked her brain. At length, very late at night, she put her babe into its cradle, and gave it the last kiss for the night. Alas ! little did she think it was the last for a long and gloomy period ; it slept with its nurse in a little room next to hers, that she might hear it if it cried in the night ; but she did not hear il all that night : for, worn out by mental exertion and anxiety, she fell into a profound sleep, and did not awake till late the next morning. She immediately rung for her child ; but when the door opened, it was not the nurse and her baby who entered, but her own maid. Mrs. Ashton. Mrs. Ashton had received Emma into her arms when she was born, and had never after FATHER OSWALD. S been separated from her ; it would have beer difficult to havr. found a more faithful and attached domestic. The moment Emma saw her face, she knew something was wrong. " Ashton," said she, in a voice of alarm, " what is the matter 7 How are the children 1 Where is my baby V " Oh, my poor child ! oh, rny dear Madam !" exclaimed Ashton, wringing her hands, " be calm; do not for God's sake alarm yourself." " I will not alarm myself," said Emma firmly; "but do yov. fell me the plain truth instantly." " Then, Madam, my master came back early this morning *-ith Uvo carriages, and took away the children and the nurse." "Not the babv V "Yes, Madam, all. all." " Merciful God !" exclaimed Emma, " can it be true V and she sunk in a swoon in the arms of her attendant. Mrs. Ashton rung ibr assistance, and when Emma's senses returned, she said, in a low and tremulous voice, taking hold of poor Ashton's hand, who was tearfully watching over her, " Send directly for my uncle." Mrs. Ashton did as she was desired to do ; and did also the best in her power to restore and comfort her poor young mistress ; but Emma spoke not; in her heart she thanked God that He had given her strength to go through this bitter trial without denying Him. She repeated over and over to herself, " Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven," with an humble and calm hope within her coul that God would not leave her without support in whatever trials he might please to appoint her yet tc endure. In a few hours, violent fever naturally succeeded, and when her uncle arrived, she did not recognize him, and was as totally insensible of his presence as she was of the remembrance of the injustice and violence, which had brought on the sudden and dangerous illness, that confined her to her bed ibr many long and tedious weeks. * Eph. :v. 5. t John .x 19. t lieb. xi. 6 t) James v. 14. 15. 54 FATHER OSWALD CHAPTER IX. ' Alas ! we listen to our own fond hopes. Even till they scern no more our fancy's children , We put them on a prophet's robes, endow them With prophet's voices, and then Heaven speaks in them And that which we would have be, surely shall te." WHEN the events related in the last chapter occurred. Harriet was not at Sefton Hall, but some forty miles distant, on a visit .o a friend. She was extremely surprised and concerned at receiving one morning a letter from her brother. She opened it with a trembling hand, fully persuaded that it would announce some dire event; lor a croaking raven had flown across her path in her evening walk the preceding day. Her superstitious i'ears, however, were somewhat abated when she read that Emma had declared herself a Catholic, and that her brother had in consequence thought it righi to remove the children from her ; adding, that he had placed them at Eaglenest Cottage, on his property in Devonshire, being resolved to try what rigour would do, to compel his wile to retract the errors and abomina- tions of popery. He concluded by begging Harriet to relurn as soon as possible to Seflon Hall, in order to report to him the exact state of things there, and to assist in bringing Emma back to her duty. This letter both surprised and grieved Harriet ; it surprised her, because, though she knew the sternness of her brother's character, she never could have imagined he would have shown such unreasonable severity towards a wife to whom he was devotedly attached ; it grieved her, because she herself loved Emma with the affection of a sister, and knew well her excellent and exemplary conduct as a wife, a mother, and a I'riend. Harriet's ideas of liberty of conscience were very exten- sive, and she could in no wise reconcile it to her ideas of right and wrong, that people should be restrained in their own opin- ions on religious matters, more especially those who did no harm to their fellow-creatures; and not only did she know that Mrs. Sefton did no harm to any one, but she was fully aware that she did much good, and, moreover, made all around her happy. " Well," said she to herself, as she sloAvly folded up her brother's letter, " I am very sorry for all this ; but certainly 1 thought that raven note foreboded something worse ; I never heard a raven croak on my left hand that something ill did not happen ; and, now I recollect, both the cats turned their tails to the /' Vst night, and I never knew that fail to produce some FATHER OSWALD. 55 nnbrr.glio or another ; still I think there is much ado abou nothing. It seems to me the best thing I can do is, to go imme- diately to poor Emma; besides, if I write to my brother, only having heard his side of the question, I shall probably give my- self a great deal of useless trouble to no purpose: for I hate \vriting letters at any time, especially on other people's concerns. But then, again, ho\v vexatious it is to have to leave my friend in such a bustle ! when I thought 1 was quite comfortably settled here, with nothing to do but enjoy myself for anothei month at least to come. Out upon the raven ! Fie upon the cats ! Well, I must have patience. I have heard it said ' one cannot go smack smooth to Heaven ;' so I suppose there is no help for it. Let me see, to-morrow is Thursday that is a lucky day. I would not set out on the following day for all the world." So saying, she gave orders for her departure, and before eight o'clock the next morning was on the road to Seftcn Hall. This promptness in Harriet was really an exertion of friendship ; for being a lady of considerable embonpoint, and nabitually indolent and passive in her disposition, it required a strong impulse to produce any exertion above the ordinary routine of a very easy and quiet life. Her dislike to mental exertion was in the same ratio as her disinclination to locomo- tion, and hence arose her favourite maxim of every one thinking and acting as fancy dictated, and her frequent surprise at what appeared to her the useless trouble people often took to maintain their opinions, even on matters of indifference ; whereas a quiet acquiescence, or simple silence, in all things where there was no evident crime, was what she always employed, and recommended to the practice of others. Alas ! in the land of Bibles and of religious license, she had frequent occasion to exercise her patience. The nearer she approached to Sel'ton Hall, the more anxious she felt; it was a bitter, cold, wintry day, the ground covered with snow, and the northern bins howling through the trees. As she drove through the loiij avenue, she passed general Russell, who was pacing slow!) towards the house, with his arms folded and his eyes on th< ground. At the sound of the carriage wheels, he looked up . there was a deep melancholy on his brow, but a smile of plea- sure and surprise lit up his countenance when he recognizea Harriet, and he quickened his steps to follow the carriage to the Hall. Harriet was painfully struck with the air of melancholy desolation about the place ; nearly all the windows in the house were closed, and when the old butler opened the door, and she found herself within the fine old Hall, she saw there was no blazing fire within its ample chimney, nor sign of comfort, nor welcome, as was wont to be, 56 FATHER OSWALD. " Oh Miss Harriet ! is it you!" said old Willdns. "I am right glad to see you, Madam : but, Lord bless me ! your room? will be as cold as the North Park ; there has not been a fire in them these weeks and weeks past." "Never mind that," said Harriet, impatiently; t: that incon- venience is easily remedied, my good Wilkins ; but how is Mrs. Sefton 1 Where is she 1 Pray show me into her room Immediately." " Oh, Mi.ss ! sad changes since you were gone. My pool master who could have ever thought it would you believe Miss Harriet" popery, rank popery, in his own house." Harriet made a move to pass him, saying, " I have heard my sister is ill. and I wish immediately to see her," muttering a 1 the same time to herself, " 1 knew there was ill foreboded by that unlucky raven." " To be sure. Ma'am, to be sure." said the old Butler wiu deference; "and then I will tell the housekeeper to put your rooms in order. My poor mistress is still confined to her bed, Miss," continued the good butler, tapping very gently at hei door. Mrs. Ashton came out, and started when she saw Harriet. "Oh, Ma'am ! God bless you; my poor mistress! We have need of comfort here ; but I had best speak to her before you come close to the bed, Miss." " Yes, do so," said Harriet, scarcely able to articulate. Harriet approached the bed, and Emma made an effort of joyful surprise to raise herself up to fold her in her arms, but sank exhausted on her pillow ; and Harriet burst into an agony of tears, when she beheld the emaciated form that lay beforo her : she was obliged to leave the room, and it was some time-, ere the sisters could see one another without mutual agitation, and emotion. " I will certainly write to my brother, an account of the state 1 find her in," said Harriet to the General, " and try to persuade him of the folly of his conduct." " Rather say of the cruelty, injustice, and bigotry of his con- duct/' exclaimed the General, indignantly. "Nay, nay, my good General, not so bad as that neither; for Emma certainly ought not to have taken the step she has done, knowing, as she did, how displeasing it was sure to be to Ed ward." "So you would have had her lose her soul to please her hus- band ! but, putting that trifling consequence of rejecting the truth aside, Miss Sefton must be aware, that one essential part of the Protestant religion is libcrtv of conscience m the Iree FATHER OSWALD. 57 interpretation of Scripture: now, if my niece chose to interpret some of the most forcible texts of Scripture in favour of the Catholic Church, I should like to know what consistent Protes- tant has a right to persecu'e her ?" " Very true, General ; very true/' said Harriet, alarmed at the idea of a discussion ; for my part, I think all religions are equally good, if a person only lives up to them; and I am sure no one could be a better Christian than Emma was, nor a better wile, nor mother; and my opinion is, there is much ado about nothing, and so I shall take care and tell Edward." Harriet accordingly wrote a letter to Mr. Sefton, remonstra- ting with him on his conduct towards his innocent wile, and describing in very pathetic terms the state to which his unkind- ness had reduced her. Mr. Sefton was much affected by this letter, and as he could not help leeling the truth of some "tf his sister's reproaches, it made him very uncomfortable and angry with himself, and consequently still more angry with poor Emma. But knowing his sister's easy sentiments on religion, he so- phistically reasoned himself into a belief, that her opinions on this point ought not to be attended to, and that it was his duty to steel his heart to every sentiment of compassion arising from his wife's illness. In this frame of mind, he wrote to Harriet, expressing his displeasure at her indifference as to what tenets of faith a person held, and exhorting her to use her utmost en- deavours to recal Emma to the reformed Church, expressing also his decided wish that Dr. Davison should visit her, and endeavour by instruction to reclaim the lost sheep from the errors nf popery. "To this end, he wrote a letter full of zeal to Dr. Davison, entreating him to do his duty, and to give him detailed accounts of his interviews with Mrs. Sefton ; he wrote lastly to l>oor Emma herself, a letter beginning with upbraidings and re- proaches, and ending with lamentations and expressions of affec- 'ion. Many a tear did Emma shed over this letter; but she was yet too weak to answer j,t ; she revolved what she slu.uld say in return, over and over again in her rnind and in the inward recesses of her afflicted spirit ; and this increased her anxiety and habitual fever. The General and Father Oswald, who constantly attended her, soon perceived she was laboring under some additional uneasiness ; it was not long ere she told them the reason of her anxiety, and her pain at not being able to answer her husband's letter: that which had not occurred to her in her weak and agitated state, immediately occurred to her two friends, namely, for her uncle to write at her dictation. The letter she dictated was both touching and firm; touching, be- cause it expressed the sentiments of a heart, which, though 6 CS FATHER OSWALD. deeply wounded, yet yearned and overflowed with affection towards him whom she had chosen for her friend and protector during tnis mortal pilgrimage; and firm, inasmuch as it ex pressed her fixed determination to be faithful to her God, and tc live and die in the faith to which He in His mercy had brought her. After this letter had been despatched, she seemed much relieved, and the affectionate care of Harriet, united to the un- remitting attentions of the general and Father Oswald, con- tributed not a little to place her in a convalescent state. In the. meantime, Dr. Davison received Mr. Sefton's letter, desiring him to go to Sefton Hall, and endeavour by every effort to re- claim his wife from the errors of popery. When this letter \v;;s brought to the good parson, he was sitting after his dinner dozing over a large fire, with the " Sportsman's Annals" in his hand. or rather on his knees, whither it had inadvertently si ipt, after many vain endeavours to keep his attention fixed on the ani- mating contents. "The Lord be merciful unto me, a sinner ! >: muttered he, with an indescribable groan of dismay, as he pe- rused the contents nf Mr. Sefton's letter. " Did you tell me to ring for the tea, my dear 1" said his wife, who was sitting with her back to her worthy mate, engaged on a tambour-frame. "I did not say so, Mrs. Davison, I did not say so," said the Doctor shaking his head, " though God knows I have need of something to keep up my courage at this particular trying moment. A fine job cut out for me, indeed ! as if I could do any good! as if I could stop popery, or hinder folks following their own mad ideas ! But he always was, and always will be a fiery zealot." " Doctor Davison, are you raving, or are you dream ing 1" said his wife, who not having perceived the entrance of the letter, really thought the worthy Doctor was suffering from uneasy dozing. "I am neither raving nor dreaming." Answered he, " I wish I was : but here is a letter from that hoi-neaded zealot, Edward Sefton, who wants me to neither more nor less than go and bring that poor wife of his Knck again from popery." " Oh !" said Mrs. Daf.-* t. . " she has loo much popish blood m her veins." " Yes ; her father wa. ; Catholic." " However," said Mrs. Davison, "you know she had a wor- my, pious mother, who gave her an excellent Protestant edu- cation." "Aye, aje, and great trouble had I in securing that point. You remember her mother promised her husband on his death- FATI1EK OSWALD. 59 oed, to send their only daughter to a nunnery for her education and how I had to labour before I could quiet her scruples. B,. all labour in vain ! What is bred in the hone, will never be out of the flesh. What hopes, then, can there be of her con- rersion 1 Now, my dear, think of my difficulties, think of the folly of attempting such a thing; ill as she is, too, and, what is worse, guarded bv that Cerberus of an uncle, whose very bark is enough to terrify one." "Aye, and what is still worse." said his wife, "constantly visited, as I am informed, by that sly, hypocritical Jesuit, Father Oswald, as they call him ! however, for all that, Dr. Davison, I should certainly think it my duty, were I in your place, to make a trial at least, to bring the poor misguided soul back from the delusions of popery." " Bless me ! how you talk, Mrs. Davison ; you had best take tie Bible to her yourself, I think. How unfortunate is this business, just at the time when the grand coursing match is to come off; I should be sorry to lose that; for you know our greyhound, Spanker, is entered, and I must be there to see i'air play. I will thank you, however, to order my tea; that will perhaps throw some light on tbis difficult matter." Mrs. Davison did as she was desired to do, and called out to Jenny at the top of her voice to bring the tea, and, added she, " bring also. Jenny, at the same time, the Doctor's Cogninc." After a few cups oi' the refreshing beverage had been con- sumed, Mrs. Davison recommenced her observations. "Well, Doctor, and what line of conduct do you mean to adopt in this very difficult matter 1" " Why, Mrs. Davison, something I must do, that is certain, or I fear Air. Seiton is capable of going to the Bishop about it. I shall write to him, however, and endeavour to soothe him, and persuade him that I will do my best ; but I really think, my dear, the most prudent way to begin, will be for you to go and call on Mrs. Seiton first, as it might be to inquire after her health." "Well, I think so too," answered his wife, " and I will take a' the same time the Bible with me, in case an opportunity fcbouM occur" " No, my dear, no," interrupted the Doctor, '' the Bible at 'the rst visit ! no; it requires the greatest possible prudence. Mrs. Davison : " for, between ourselves, I may tell you, J cannot ap- prove of that mania for Bible reading which I/SL, seized upon Llie people of the present day so universally." " How so V exclaimed his wife, with a loo> great aston- ishment 60 FATHER OSWALD. "Why, do yju not perceive that the Church is in danger; that it is fritteied away into a thousand discordant sects'] and be.ieve me, the true cause of all this is the imprudent distribution of the Bible amongst the illiterate and vulgar. Every hot- headed zealot reads it, and invents a new religion for himself and his silly neighbours ! No, no ; it is high time we should exert the authority of the Church to put down these accursed heretics." " Really. Doctor Davison, you astonish and confound me, to hear you talk in this style; why, I thought to read the Bible was the glorious privilege of Protestants." " No doubt, no doubt, as far as reading goes I can have no objection ; but then people should read it in the sense of the Church." " Well, really, I can see no use in reading the Bible at all, unless people try to understand it, and form their own judgment on it," interrupted Mrs. Davison; ( 'and pray, Doctor," con- tinued she, "how can you bring authority to bear upon Mrs. Sefton 1" "Aye, there is the rub," replied the Doctor with a sigh. " truly, we live in awful and perilous times. If we proclaim authority, the Papists silence us in a moment If we assert the right of private judgment, the sectaries undermine us. The Church has been brought into a false position, and I do not see how it can stand." " Come, come, Doctor, do not let your courage down ; I can see a remedy. Why, can you not harass the papists with the Bible, and awe the Dissenters with authority'?" " Humph." groaned the Doctor, "that is an awkward busi- ness ; yet I see no other way of proceeding." " Well, then, I will take the Bible with me to Mrs. Sefton." " No, no, that will not do at all ; Mrs. Sefton has read the Bible for years ; and she will tell you she understands it as well as yourself. Besides, I should not wonder if that red-hot gene- ral was to throw the pure translation of the Word of God in the Protestant Bible out of the window. I have heard him &ay strong things on that subject; you little know him, I assure you." " Well, my dear, I will be guided by you ; only I would no- wish to act too tamely in such a cause," answered his wife. The next day, Dr. Davison wrote a long letter to Edward, assuring him of his grief at Mrs. Sefton's tailing off from the pure doctrines of the Reformation to the errors of Catholicism, and concluding with warm assurances, that he would exert all his learning and authority to bring her back from the horrors ol FATHER OSWALD. 61 popery. Mr. Sefton was much pleased with this letter, anc iondl y flattered himself that the doctor would succeed. He cculd not imagine that Emma, separated from her little ones and from him, would be long ere she made up her mind to grant the wished-for concession ; for he knew well that theory and prac- tice are very different, and that the courage and perseverance of the happy and contented wife and mother might be very dif- ferent from the courage and perseverance of the bereaved mother and comfortless wife ; in fine, he fully persuaded himself that he should succeed, and anticipated a speedy and happy return to his own home. How far his hopes were realized must be related in another chapter. CHAPTER X " Mark you this, Bassanio, The Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose." SHAKSPEAKE. A DAY or two after Doctor Davison had despatched his letter lo Devonshire, his favourite little poney, Mouse, was harnessed lj the poney-cart, and Mrs. Davison, dressed in her best, pro- ceeded to make her intended visit at Sefton Hal!. Emma was n..)\v able to sit up, and though, when Mrs. Davison was an- nuunced, she felt both nervous and frightened, yet, with her usaal urbanity, she yielded to Harriet's wish that she should be received. Mrs. Davison was much struck with the change in Emma'." appearance, and being a personage who had not much command over her feelings, she involuntarily exclaimed " Good God. Mrs. Se.'ton, how you are changed ! " Yes/' said Emma faintly, and trying to conceal her emotion. " I dare say I am changed, for I have been very ill since I saw you last." " Mrs. Sefton is much better now, Madam, and I trust wil. *oon be entirely restored to her usual health," said Harriet rather dryly. " I hope so indeed, Miss Sefton ; but when the mind is ill at ease, the body will not mend. I know that Ma'am ; so, for lha! reason, I made nothing of coming a couple of miles this bitter cold day, to see how matters were going on, and to see also if I could be of any use, or Dr. Davisoa e'ther; how sorry will he 6* f>2 FATHER OSWALD be to licai* the way 1 have found kind, excellent Mrs. Selton In but, 'all is not lost that is hid, and while there is life there if hope ;' so we must trust the doctor will soon be able to bring all things quietly about." " The hectic of a moment" flushed Emma's pallid cheek, as she attempted to answer the bustling volubility of Mrs. Da visor. ; it was but a passing emotion of wounded feeling instantly re- pressed, and in a gentle and calm tone, she said " I thank you, Madam, lor your kind interest about me. ] am now daily recovering my health, and as to my mind, it is, thank God, in perfect peace." " In perfect peace ! that cannot be ; you can never persuade me of that," exclaimed Mrs. Davison, her zeal getting the oetter of all prudence, compassion, and politeness. "And why not 1 ?" said Emma mildly. " Because," answered Mrs. Davison, " the pitiable idolatrous practices of the Catholic Religion which you have unfortunately embraced, can never bring peace to the mind, I am sure." " They are pitiable visionaries, and ignorant fanatics, who think so," replied Emma, now aroused to something of her natural spirit. " I should have thought few people in this en- lightened century could yet believe such fables; idolatry could certainly never bring peace ; but the knowledge of the true religion can bring true peace, and has brought peace to me." " Yes, yes, I dare say your new friends keep their grossest superstitions out of your sight for fear o( startling you too soon; but I pray God it may not yet be too late to bring you back to the pure and primitive religion of the Bible." "I do not know what you mean, Ma'arn, bv speaking in that manner: the Catholic religion condemns superstition as much as you cnn do, and to be guilty of supeiscition is torendcronescll culpable before God ; but, perhaps, you will tell me what you mean by superstition V " I mean, my dear Mrs. Sefton, picture-worship, the dreadful idolatry of the mass, holy water. I mean, I mean in fine, all the abominations of the corrupt Church of Rome." Harriet laughed outright. "I thought, Ma'am," she r-r.id " you would have preached about omens, dreams, and clu.rms. and the innocent observance of birds and beasts. Edward used ' to call that superstition : now I am glad to find he was mis- taken." " Superstition," according to Johnson, " is religious reverence paid to things which are not worthy of such reverence," ex- claimed General Russell, appearing from behind a large Indian screen, sphere he had been sitting, reading the newspapers, it, FATHER OSWALD. 63 no very pood humour at Mrs. Davison's interruption ; " or, still more accurate!}', Madam," continued lie, " superstition is an inordinate worship of the *rue or o;' ? false divinity. This is the definition of it given by all divines, which, with due defer- ence tc the wisdom of the parson in petticoats, is, I think, quite as correct as the one I have just heard." "Lord bless me! General, is it you'*" exclaimed Mrs. Davi son, starting, "why you have put me into a tremble from head to loot." " To accuse us of superstition," continued the General, without minding Mrs. Davison's tremble as she called it, " is then to say, that we either worship the true God in an inordinate man- ner, or that we worship false gods, or that perchance we r re guilty of both: now, will you tell ine, Mrs. Davison, to which of the tenets of the Catholic Church does any of these three modes of superstition apply V " Really, General, you make so furious an onset, that you quite bewilder my poor head," exclaimed Mrs. Davison ; " it would require the Doctor himself, with his Bible in his hand, to answer all your deep definitions and learned sentences." " Well, then, Ma'am, as you cannot defend, it is rash in you lo attack; but as you are aware that rny niece has been danger- ously ill, you must excuse me if I request you to accompany Miss Sel'ton and myself to the dining-room, where luncheon is no doubt by this time ready." Mrs. Davison very reluctantly withdrew, telling Emma at the same time, "that as she was now able to sit UP, she should take an early opportunity of returning, accompanied by Dr. Davison, who would be much rejoiced to see her convalescent." At length Harriet and the General succeeded in getting ihe loquacious old lady into the dining-room, where she consoled herself with a hearty luncheon for the mortification she had experienced from what she called the General's rudeness. When they had left the room, poor Emma hid her face in her hands, and burst into tears. Mrs. Davison's visit had been quiie unexpected, and the attack on her religion still more so; nei.her she nor her uncle had the least idea of Edward's plan of recon- version; for Harriet's sympathy with her sister-in-law was so sincere, that she carefully abstained from giving the least hint on the subject, and expressed in her letters to her brother her opinion, that his project was both cruel and useless. Emma fcit all the painful delicacy or her situation in being sepanitcd from her husband, and the thoughts of what the world and those who were ignorant of the cause of this separation would say anil think, caused her many an anxious moment. At thesr 64 FATHKR OSWALD. times she would offer up her keen suffering to God, and say : " Accept this most painful sacrifice, O my God, in union with .he dreadful mental agony my divine. Saviour suffered in the parden of Gethsemani ;" and then, though the sense of her suf- fering still continued, she fait a peaceful calm in her soul, and an unspeakable consolation in knowing she was submil'.ing herself to the will of God, and hearing this humiliation for His sake. It was therefore quite true what she had told Mrs. Da- vison. though '.hat lady could not understand it that she found perfect peace after she had embraced the Catholic religion. Dr. Davison was not at all satisfied with the account his wife gave of her mission, and accused her of imprudence, in hav- ing made matters worse instead of better. He knew enough of human nature to feel satisfied, that open opposition was never the way to reclaim people from what they considered a high sense of duty, and, therefore, resolved to try other means to perform this disagreeable office. From time to time he called on Mrs. Sefton, and sometimes asked a question of ex- planation on different Catholic practices, listening to hers or the General's explanations quietly, with an air more of curiosity than opposition. This implied deference encouraged Emma to i'eel gradually an interest in conversing with him ; at least she did so without the perturbation she lelt at his first visit. Still he saw he was gaining nothing, and wrote to Edward stating how things were going on. Edward suggested he should go and reside for a few weeks at the Hall, under the pretext of having access to the library, on account of a work he had in hand. Edward, therefore, wrote to his wife to that effect, and she of course made no objection; nor, indeed, had she the slightest suspicion of the real motives lor the sojourn. Not so the General, who began to see through the matter; but as it was not his house, he could only vent his vexation by grumbling to himself, and now and then expressing his impatience to Harriet. " I kne ,* if.at no good could come from this visit," observed flarriet; " for, ever since the Doctor entered this house, I have heard an owl hooting before my windows every night." 'Pooh! pooh!" said the General, smiling, "don't make these vain, senseless observations. The owl would have hooted just the same, although the Doctor had been a hundred mile* away." " I do not know that," replied Harriet, with a solemn shake of her head ; " I never heard hooting of owls which did not bring some trouble." " Come, ccnne, take courage, Miss Sefton, the Doctor and I FATHER OSWAMJ. 65 hear the hooting as well as you, so the trouble may be meant for him, or me, or perchance we may all share it together." Mrs. Sefton was not yet able to leave her sofa, or even to stand, but her friends often in the evening assembled round her couch to beguile the tedium of convalescence. On oneofthe.se evenings, in attempting to change her position, a rosary fell from her sofa upon the ground. Dr. Davison, who was sitting Jhe nearest to her, picked it up, and held it very deliberately in his hands for a few minutes, as if to examine its construction ; then giving it back to jV'rs. Sefton, who coloured a little in taking it, he said, " Is not this the thing which Catholics call Beads 1" " Yes; it is a Rosary or Beads," replied Emma. "And is it possible that you, my dear Mrs. Sefton, can be guilty of using such a mockery," said the Doctor solemnly. " Oh, Sir! indeed, the use of the Rosary is not a mockery," exclaimed Emma eagerly ; " but, on the contrary, a source of the most tender and solid devotion." " Tender and solid devotion ! Good God ! what abuse of terms," said the Doctor, somewhat angrily. "Yes," replied Mrs. Seflon firmly ; "I repeat what I said; for, in reciting the Pater No-ters and Ave Marias, Catholics are taught to call to mind and contemplate the great mysteries of man's redemption in the life, and sufferings, and glories of Jesus Christ." " Downright nonsense." said the Doctor contemptuously. " Protestants who scoff at the Rosary, understand it not," ex- claimed the General indignantly; "hut, 'blaspheming those things which they know not, shall perish in their corruption.' " " Softly, softly, General," said Harriet, smiling; "it is con- trary to our Saviour's positive commands, you know, to use re- petitions in our prayers ; I love to say short prayers." " Indeed !" said the General, dryly ; " I never heard of such a command." "Perhaps not, Sir," said the Doctor, with an air of triumph ; " yet, verily, it is expressly recorded in the Bible." " Where ?" asked the General. The Doctor took out a pocket Bible, and, turning over th 1 tuves, read, " When ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as ih< heathens do."t " There, General, what say you to that 1" " I say that it is a shamefully false translation; in the origi nal Greek there is not one word importing ' vain repetitions.' ' "Pray, Sir, How do you render the Greek 1" inquired the Doctor. " Thus: ' When ye pray, gabble not like the heathen.' "j * 2 Peter, ii. 12. t Mutt. vi. 7. t Sue A New Version of the Four Gosncls . bv a Catholic inloea (>G FATHER OSWALD. "Nevertheless," replied the Doctor, in a grumbling tone, " prefer our own authorized translation." " Though it may be false 7" "Yes; because it is more explicit;" and, turning towards Harriet, " what is much worse, we have here repetitions of that idolatrous prayer called the Hail Mary." "Away with such cant about repetitions!" interrupted th? General. " If repetitions in prayer be vain, what shall we sav of the inspired David, who, in one psalrn, repeats twenty-seven times the same words: ' For his mercy endureth forever,'* that is, once in every verse 1 What shall we say of the Seraphim, who rested not night and day, saying, " Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who was, and who is, and who is to comeT? What shall we say to the example of our Redeemer, who, in his fervent and prolonged prayer in the garden, 'prayed the third time, saying the self-same words V "t "What shall we say, indeed, to that most touching example,' : said Emma, sighing, " in Him who was perfection itself,'' " This seems plausible enough," replied Harriet. tij.. t ..,:it!"ul- ly ; " but still 1 think the repetition of prayers in Latin must be a labour which can bring no improvement to the soul." " If any one does not understand Latin, let him say his pray ers in English," answered the General: " the Rosary is transla ted into all languages, and is generally repeated in the vernacu- lar of each country ; besides, most good Catholics have a deep- felt consolation in understanding a little of the universal lan- guage of the Church, and in being able to join in those prayers and psalms which are in common and daily use amongst us ; particularly at the holy sacrifice of the Mass. You would be frequently astonished in Italy and Spain to hear the most illite- rate and uneducated amongst the peasants and common people answering even to antiphons and psalms which occur but once or twice in the year. "But they do not understand what they thus repeat with their lips in a language different from their own; how can they'" asked the Doctor. "To be sure they understand it; and much better. I think, than your people understand the Hosannas and Alleluias which you teach them to sing, and which, you know, are expressions of a far more difficult language. Catholics generally more especially on the Continent are taught these little prayers with their catechisms, and they daily hear and join, more or less, in the Church service. Catholic churches are not shut up like Protestant places of worship, every day but Sunday ; in Catholic countries, religion is one of the daily and hourly concerns oj * Psalm, cxxxv 1 Apoc iv. S Is vi 2 ! Malt. *xvi. 44 FATHER OSWALD. (? iit> ; and it is not by these good, simple souls thought sufficient Tor them to hear a dry sermon on Sundays and read a chapter in ihe Bible. No, no, they know that unless religion is daily practiced and thought of, it will not sink into the heart and be to them a support in the distresses of hie, and a solace in their lighter moments/' " Well, I cannot but think Catholic service unprofitable," said Harriet. " Catholics are the best judges of what is profitable to their own souls," said the General dryly. "Humph!" said the Doctor, "but you cannot, I think, so easily evade, Sir, the fact, that this de/otion of the Rosary mus( necessarily be idolatrous, because I understand it is all com- posed of Hail Marys addressed to the Virgin V " I do not evade the fact, Doctor Davison," said the General, " bnt I deny it; namely, that the Hail Mary, or any other prayer addressed by Catholics to the Blessed Virgin, Mother of God" is idolatrous. She is not an object of idolatry to us. but an object of the deepest respect and veneration ; neither will 1 insult your understanding by answering farther to a charge against Catho- lics, which, I am convinced, you do not seriously believe. You must keep in mind, that the Rosary is said as much, or I should say more, in honour of Christ than of Mary : for in every de- cade we commemorate in spirit and in affection some great mystery of our redemption ; and nothing can be more grateful to the truly Christian soul than the pious recollection of what J ,-sus has done for us, and the part his Holy Mother bore in mosl OL the mysteries." " It must be very difficult, I should think," said Harriet, " to say the woras to the Virgin, and reflect on a mystery at the same time. I am sure it is more than I could do." " And yet nothing is more easy," continued the General, " to excite that reflection, than a momentary pause in the A ve- Maria after the word, Jesus, with a mental recollection of the mystery on which we are meditating ; such as, ' Who was made man for us, who was born for us,' and so on. Indeed, devotion to our Lady can never be separated from devotion to our Lord, as long as the relation between mother and son shall subsist." "Oh! indeed, Harriet indeed, Dr. Davison," exclaimed Emma, " this devotion of the Rosary is a most sweet, and solid devotion, full o r neavenly consolations. I thank God for the day on which I hist learnt it." " I am glad, mv dear Madam, at whatever gives you conso- lation," said the Doctor, bowing; " but you must excuse rne, if f still think counting one's prayers by beads is a vT' 'bolish and childish practice, as well as a great innovation ' fi8' FATHER OSWALD. "Oh! there, Doctor, you mistake, or you are misinformed,' 1 said Mrs. Set'ton, " for I have read in a book that my uncle lent me, that it was the custom amongst the very first Saints in the earliestages, to count their prayers and ejaculations by little round jiebbl.es or stones used for that purpose ; now, I think it is a great improvement, if, since the time of St. Dominic, these little peb- bles, or beads, or stones, have been perforated and hung on a string. You are very fond of improvements, Sir, in sciences, and even in angling; -now why should we object to improvements in the way of counting our prayers 1 The holy solitaries in the first ages did not move much from their cells ; but we who lead more active lives, might be losing our little pebbles if they were loose." The Doctor smiled. "But I cannot see,'' said he, "what good there is in people counting their prayers at all." "Nevertheless, you see the saints, who were more learned in the ways of salvation than we are, thought otherwise," replied Emma; "and I am not afraid of imitating thm, especi- ally as the Church holds them up for our example and venera- tion." " Yes, yes, believe me, the Apostles, Martyrs, Confessors, and Monks knew how to pray quite as well as we do," said the General. "Now really, Doctor, it seems to me that to number our prayers, is neither so foolish nor so childish as when yon, in your convivial meetings, ' Hip, hip, hip,' with three times three." "Pooh," said the Doctor, " that is done on a very different occasion, and is only meant to preserve a certain degree of ordei and decorum." "As for the decorum, let that pass," replied the General,: " but surely a certain degree of order in our devotions canno; be displeasing to the God of all order, ' who has ordered all things in measure, and number, and weight.* Besides, if it be childish to number our prayers, why I like it all the belter for that; for Jesus has taught us to humble ourselves like little children, if we would enter into thekinsx!om of heaven : and it it be foolish, so much the better; for 'the foolish things of the world hath God chosen, that he may confound the wise.' "t Mrs. Sefton kissed her beads with renewed affection, ano placed them in her reticule. " Pshaw," cried the Doctor, " a great deal of nonsense in that." " There you and I differ, my good friend," replied the Gene- ral ; " but I am aware that some people now-a-days pride them * Wis. xi. 21 f 1 Cor. i. 27. FATHER OSWALD. GO nelves on certain studiua compositions, which they consider perfect models of prayer. Certainly no one can object to these Terms on ..he ground of their not being sufficiently clear, as far as the words themselves go, which are very precise ; or, of their omissions, for every want that can be conceived is specified ; but I doubt whether our ancestors would have altogether approved of them. They did not like long, wordy narrations in address- ing God, and even considered it an indication ot 1 \e divine Spirit when nothing nominally was sought in prayer, the rej>e- tition of ejaculations, or accumulated epithets, such as, 'mi-e- ricordia mea,' 'refugium meum,' 'liberator meus,' and soon. is so much the more full of internal delights as it is imperteci in external expression : for affection has this property, that the more fervent it is within the heart, the less can it be developed externally by the voice. Did not St. Francis of Assisium. end other holy men spend whole nights in repeating only ' Deus meus, et omnia' V ' To be sure," said Harriet hesitatingly, " the Lord's Prryer rontains much more than is expressed; and the sick that were healed by Jesus as related in the gospel, expressed themselves in very short and simple sentences." " Yes, and often repeated them, too," said the General <: Witness the blind man of Jericho, who could not be made to hold his peace, but kept ri'p.'afinn and crying out, ' Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me.' But Emma, my dear," continued he. observing his niece somewhat exhausted, "we will not talk more now, but leave you to go quietly to bed ; I fear we have kept you up a little too long." Dr. Davison kindly wished Mrs. Sefton good-night, but added, "that he thought she would find it very difficult to ex- plain away the absurdity of many of the devotions used by the Catholic Church." " Doctor, I defy you," said the General with much gravity- l: I will challenge you to-morrow to name any Catholic devotiot you please, and I will undertake to cle;;r it of the charge of ab- surdity : let us see what an old soldier can do, when pitted against a learned Divine." " I accept the challenge," said the Doctor stoutly and good- liumouredly, as he closed the door after him, leaving Mrs. Sef- on to her accustomed orisons and repose. "Good night, Miss Harriet," said the General, smiling "anJ don't fear the hooting of the owl : you see the trouble has lallen on the Doctor this evening, at least." 70 FATHER OSWALD. CHAPTER XI. " The literal sense is hard to flosh and blood ; Uut nonsense never could be understood." DRYBEN DOCTOR Davison reflected much during the following morn- ing, what point against the Catholic religion it would be advi- sable to bring forward in his evening conference with the Gene- ral : he thought of picture-worship, images of the Cross, and especially of the Saints of churches; but he had a sort of vague idea in his mind, that these charges against Catholics, as far as the accusation of idolatry went, were not altogether true, and if he brought them forward he feared the General's sarcasm and ridicule. No, said he to himself, I will goon more solid and serious ground ; I will boldly attack the idolatry of the Mass. According!}', he spent most of the morning in the library, fum- bling over the Protestant divines most likely to refresh his memory ; he believed all that he had ever rend or heard against Catholics on this point. ?ml had no doubt but that he should make an impression on Mrs. Sefton at least, if he should even Tail with the General. ''Yes, 1 ' exclaimed he triumphantly to Harriet, rubbing his hands with exultation, as they returned from their walk before dinner, " you shall see what a drubbing >I will give that old Gener.-;! this evening." " Don't be too sure of that," observed Flarriet ; " he is not at ail so easily dealt with." " But my attack to-night shall be so well managed," persisted ;the Doctor, " that he must beat a retreat." " I see something that is in your favour," said Harriet, " or I 'mistake much." " What do you mean 1 I don't understand." "Why, Doctor, do but look at that fallow field to the right." "Well, I seethe field, and two chattering magpies; that is a!.." " And plenty too, I think," said Harriet; "don't you know what this signifies V "Not I ; they are picking out the grubs, I suppose, as I hope wo pick out the General's superstitions." " No, no ; no such thing: the old proverb gives speaking cf s, that is, magpies the following rule : " One of sorrow, Two of mirth, Three a wedding. And four a birth " FATHER OSWJI.I). 7l "Pshaw! pshaw! tush! tush! nonsense, Miss Harriet ! how can you believe such idle sayings'!" " I do believe them, though," continued Harriet, as she slowly ascended the stairs to arrange her dress for dinner, " for I have often and often seen them come true." In the evening the Doctor was the last to join the little circle round Emma's fireside; as he approached with a serious and mysterious face, the General flourished his snuff-box in ths air, exclaiming, as he offered his antagonist a pinch, "You have made the ladies wait, Reverend Sir, you have made them wait." ' The seriousness of the subject I am going to bring forward, must claim your indulgence, ladies, for this delay," answered the Doctor, bowing with much solemnity. " Well," said Emma, smiling, "no excuse is necessary. I understand from Harriet, that you have been very busy all day, brushing up your arms for the combat." " Yes, Ma'am, I have been in the library most of the morn- ing, notwithstanding there is a brace of woodcocks in the copse, about the cress spring, which was very tempting. You shall soon see, however, the success of my more serious morning's work." " Don't sound the trumpet before you have gained the victory, Sir," said the General ; " but let us hear the accusation against tis this evening." " Well, then, the accusation I bring against Catholics is, that they worship the veriest unworthy trifle ever made by men's hands, and set up as God, a thing which is childish idolatry; namely, the Mass; the silly and profane invention of a corrupl Church, which has no meaning, a bloodless 'sacrifice being useless, since blood alone can wash away sin." " My dear Sir," said the General, when the Doctor had paused, " there seems to be asirange jumble in your accusation : in the first place, the sacrifice of the Mass follows from a right notion of the real presence ; in the second place, it is not a bloarllcsx sacrifice, but an unbloody sacrifice. In the sacrifice of the Mass, there is the real blood of Christ, which is surely enough to wash away the sins of the whole world, shed in a mystical and unbloody manner, not in the bloody manner in which it was once shed upon the Cross." " Really, Sir," said the Doctor. " I cannot comprehend your mystery, unbloody and blooclezs ; where is the dilierence V "Much the sr.me," replied the General, "us that between the living soldier and one shut through the heart." " Humpn !" growled the Doctor ; I do not see the comparison r 755 FATHER OSWALD. "Perhaps not; but I will try to explain myself. You re- member that St. Paul, speaking of the Eucharist, says, that ' as oi'ten as you shall eat this bread, and drink the chalice, you shall show the death of the Lord ;'* now, in the sacrifice of the Mass, we do this in a most wonderful manner, by the separate consecration of his body and bliod, under two distinct species; for by virtue of the words of consecration, the substance of the bread is changed into his body, and the substance of the wine into his blood; but as ' Christ, now dies no more,' the body and blood are not really separated ; for where the body is, there ' also is the blood, not by the change of bread into the blood, but by concomitancy : so the bread is not changed into the soul and divinity of Christ, but wherever his body is, it is necessarily accompanied by his blood, soul, and divinity. So, when the wine is changed into his blood, his body, soul, and divinily are also present; now, by this mystical separation of the body anu Wood, the death of the Lord, which consisted in the real separa- tion of the two, is represented to us in a most lively and almost visible manner. The essence of the Christian sacrifice consists in thjs mystical separation." The Doctor looked puzzled. You presuppose, Sir, that I be- Uev. in what you call the real presence ; now. I do not believe in any such thing ; nay, in the very text which you have quoted, does riot the Apostle Paul say, that we eat the bread and drink the cup?" " INo doubt he does," replied the General ; "but if you read the next verse, you may make a shrewd guess at his meaning : 1 whosoever shall eat this bread or drink the chalice of the Lord unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood of the Lord.' Now, you must tell me, how eating bread and drinking wine in any unworthy manner, can make a man guilty of sacrilege so heinous V ' Why, to be sure," said the Doctor; "it is the profanation of a most holy rite and ordinance." "Suppose," said the General, "a man were to profane the Word of God, baptism, or any other divine ordinance, would he thereby become guilty of the body and blood of the Lord V "Pooh!" said the Doctor; "that is nothing to the purpose I asserted that /did not believe in the real presence, and, what is more, 1 believe the Church of Rome, when obliged to explain herself, believes no more in a real and literal presence thau Protestants do." " Oh, Doctor! what an assertion," said Mrs. Sefton w/.th evi- dent surprise. * 1 Cor. xi.20. FATHER OSWALD. 73 At this momem' Mrs. Ashton entered the room, and told her mistress that Father Oswald had just called. " Let him come iu, Ashton," replied Mrs. Sei'ton ; "it always does me good," added she. ' to see that truly apostolic man. 1 ' " I think I had better retire," said the Doctor hastily, looking rather confused ; " perhaps I intrude. 1 ' "No, Sir, by no means," answered Emma earnestly; "you said Harriet, " I do not think the Scripture is so clear, or men would not differ so much about its meaning." "Your S'linf' Luther did not think, it seems, however, as you t!o," said Emma, laughing. "He tried all in his power to rid himself of his faith in the real presence, as he himself tells us, but could not; and then says, as well as I can remember, 'the text of the Gospel is so clear, as not to be susceptible of miscon- struction.' " ' You remember the sentence quite rightly, my dear, and nave quoted it correctly/' said the General ; " you may also tell Mi.-s .Sefton, and the Doctor too, that Archbisnop Cranmer owns, 1 that Christ may be in the bread and wine, as also in the doors that were shut.' John Fox says, ' Christ abiding in heaven is no let but he may be in the sacrament also;' and then, again, Melancthon : ' I had rather,' says he, ' die than affirm thai Christ's body can be but in one place.' " li Well. Sir. and suppose the difference of opinion which you state to exist between the doctrines of some of the first reformers and those of the present day, does actually exist, it is quite con- sistent; considering we have the Bible, which strikes one person in one way, and another in another." "But," said Emma, "truth can be but one: God, who i '.ruth, cannot reveal contradictory doctrines on the same point, txnd this a point, too, on which our eternal salvation depends. Is it not written, 'He that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth ,md drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning the body of the Lord V namely, in the true sense which he intended, under (he dreadful penalty of eternal damnation. There must be no tricing on this important point." "God forbid," said the Doctor seriously, " we should ever trifle en this, or any other Scriptural doctrine." ' Well, then," subjoined Father Oswald, with a good-natured smile, ' if you are so disposed, I do not care if once in ray life I join ' a tea and Bible' party." Harriet took the hint, and in a few minutes the hissing urn was on the table, and the grateful odour of the refreshing bev- erage soon filled the room. While sipping the tea, Father Os- wald proposed to discuss the sixth chapter of St. John. Dr. 76 FATHER OSWALD. Davison did not relish the proposition so much as he did his cap of tea; and, somehow or other, even that seemed to have lost much of its wonted flavour. He felt himself in an awkwaid predicament, and sought to avoid the contest, if he could do it with honour to himself. Asking Harriet lor a second cup. lie turned to Father Oswald, and said " I think, Sir, this subjec* too serious and too abstruse tc be discussed before this company." " I am no friend," said Father Oswald, " to such Biblical dis- cassions as I am told are often exhibited over the tea-table. I have a different way of teaching religious truths." " Well, then," said the Doctor, " suppose we drop the sub- ject '-'' " With all my heart," replied the Father. "No. no, Doctor," exclaimed the Genera), who had overheard the conversation ; " you have chosen the subject and the ground ; I cannot allow you to sculk from your post, and suspiciously seek safety in flight at the first appearance of danger. Come, on the faith of an old soldier, you shall have fair play." The Doctor saw that the. retreat was now impossible, and. mustering courage from the readiness which Father Oswald haci shown to retire from the contest, he opened a large Bible, which he had deposited on the table when he entered the room, and began with all solemnity to read the sixth chapter of St. John. The first part of the chapter afforded little subject of discussion, though frequently interrupted by their reciprocal observations. Father Oswald observed, that the miracle of the five barley loaves was in many points, an admirable illustration of the Holy Eucharist ; the Doctor could see no connection between the two. Father Oswald observed, that Christ's walking on the waters was a clear demonstration, that His body when He pleased could ue exempted from the universal laws of nature. But the contest became more animated at the twenty-seventh verse, when Father Oswald observed, that Christ promised to give food superior to the barley loaves meat which endureth unio life everlasting. He propounds the means to obtain it, faith in liis divinity, which the Jews had not. He promises to give bread from Heaven, superior to the manna. He declares thai he himself is the bread of life the living bread which giveth life to the world. The Doctor fought a good fight, stoutly main- taining that nothing more was meant than faith in Christ, and soouted the distinction which the Fathe made between the pro- mised bread and the condition required in those who were to receive it. But the heat of war began at the fifty-second verse Father Oswald nhse.rvwl. that hitherto Christ had used the word FATHER OSWALD / bread in a figurative sense, as the Doctor admitted, but that now he explains me hgure, "The bread which I will give ismy flesh." The Doctor twisted the expression into a hundred shapes, to make it signify, The bread which I will give is a si/mbol of my flesh. " Nothing is easier,' 1 replied the Father dryly. " than to make the Scripture say any thing, by introducing one or two extraneous words." " Fight fair," exclaimed the Genera'. " Let us have Scrip- lure, without note or comment." The Doctor, finding himself sore'.y pressed, changed his sen- liment, and thought the meaning might be, The bread which I will give isfai/h in rnv flesh ; that is, in rny incarnation. " Bravo !" said the General ; " then i> was i'aith in the incar- nation, and not his real flesh, which he gave for the life of the world; and this faith we must adt with our mouths, just as the Israelites eat ihe manna." " Read on, good Sir," said Father Oswald gently ; " we shall then see how the Jews to whom Jesus spoke, understood him." The Doctor read, " How can this man give us his flesh to eat V' " Ha !" exclaimed Harriet, " how often have I heard the same question asked !" " Yes, yes," said the General ; " there were good Protestants, you see, even amongst the Jews." Harriet laughed, nor could Mrs Sefton suppress a smile : the Doctor was piqued, and observed " It cannot be denied, that the Jews understood Christ's words in their literal sense ; but what wonder 1 they were a wilful, carnal, sottish race." " No doubt," subjoined Father Oswald: "but our merciful Redeemer will correct their error ; if not for their sake, for the sake, of millions of faithful believers, who he foresaw, would take his words in their plain, obvious, literal sense. Pray read on." "Amen, amen, I say unto you, Except you eat Ihcfljshot Iht Son of Man and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you." " Now, mark," said Father Oswald, "the solemn asserva- tions ' amen, amen,' with which our Saviour expresses the impor- tance and truth of what he is about to say. So far from modi- fying his former words, he reasserts them in the strongest terms. To the eating of his flesh, he now adds the drinking of his blood, which, far from diminishing the objection ot the Jews, must have shocked them still more, from their being prohibited ;8 FATHER OSWALD. by their law even to taste the blood of animals, muc!i morn human blood." The Doctor remained silent for some time, as if recollecting and arranging in his mind the various and discordant comments vhich he had read on this celebrated passage; his ideas rose in such a medley an ay, that his confusion remained only wors confounded: at length he spoke, with much hesitation and frequent interruption, and occasional contradiction, as one or other system of figurative interpretation occurred in his mind. "To eat and to chink signified simply to believe, and he won- dered much that the Jews could not so understand the words after the preceding part of Christ : sdiscourse. Again, reflecting that Christ afterwards said, ' My flesii is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed/ he thought that to eat and drin'.; might be taken in the literal sense, and that flesh and blood must be taken in a figurative sense, and could signify nothing more that bread and wine, the symbols of his flesh and blood." "Perhaps, Doctor/' said Father Oswald, "you would do better to read the lour following verses, end consider them all together; for then we shall see, that, five several times. JCSUM confirmed the literal meaning of that sentence which gave sc much offence to the disbelieving Jews; and each assertion i* more expressive and significant than ihc preceding." The Doctor began to hem, and his confusion and irritation increased so much, that he in vain attempted to proceed. " Come," said the General. " I promised you fair play, and / must relieve you. I will do justice to your cause." The General then, assuming a most serious and sanctimo- nious, but dogmatic tone, began to read thus: "Verily, verily, I say unto you, you quite mistake my meaning: I would only say, Except you eat br/.ad, no', my flesh, find drink v-i/i.>',not, my blood, you shall not have life in you. He that eateth hn 'tak to him alter breaki;.st." ' t ^aa tell you where he is." said the General, laying down b* 86 FATHER OSWALD. the newspaper; <: he has returned to that sick person at tne Mills, where he was yesterday ; he will, I hope, be back for dinner." " What a deal of useless trouble !" said Harriet ; " I should have thought one visit was quite enough." " The poor creature got worse during the night, and sent for him," said the General. " In the night,'' exclaimed Harriet. "How extraordinary! Why, it was an awful night: every time I wakened, I iicard the snow pelting and the wind howling." " However, he went in the night, lor all that," said the Gene- ral quietly, " as was his precise duty. John is my authority, and I imagine he did not dream it. Miss Harriet, may I beg another cup of coffee V "Well," said Doctor Davison, helping himself to another slice of ham and a buttered muffin,"! cannot conceive what charm, life can have for any Catholic priest who devotes himsell to his duty." " None at all," said the General bluntly ; i: it would be a pity it should : he might then neglect his duties." '' It seems the grave is the only place where it is not sinful for a priest to indulge in rest," said Harriet, compassionately. "But, Miss Harriet," answered the General, " he hr.s his consolations of a higher order : ' he seeks the things that are above, he minds the things that are above, not the things that are upon ihe earth ; for he is dead, and his li!e is hiii with Christ in God.' His treasure is in Heaven, and there is his heart fixed." The Doctor had ordered his dog and gun to be in readiness after breakfast, but it snowed so fast that he unwillingly count- erordered them ; he sauntered into the billiard -room ; but the General seemed so occupied with a new French publication he had just received, that he durst not venture to propose a match at billiards.' He then tried the library, but found it difficult to fix his attention. Whatever book he opened, the troublesome thought occurred to his mind, of what might be the nature of the difficulty with which the General was going to torment him that evening.. " I wish I was safely out of this house," said he to himself; "nothing can be more disagreeable to me than this sort of work; to be sure. I am comfortable enough: good table, good library, and the societv mighty pleasant, if it were not lor this plaguy controversy. Well, well, I ;\m doing my duly, and a stout one it is." So musing, he replaced the book he had in his hand in the shelves, and dwaddled into the sitting-room, where he was soon established by Harriet's work-table, reading FATHER OSWALD. 87 aloud to her the last new novel. The dinner was over before Father Oswald made his appearance, and when he had eat a little, and got himself thawed from the nearly frozen state in which he had entered, Harriet proceeded to ask how he had left the sick person. " The sick person, my good Madam," replied he, " is gone to another and a better world." " Indeed !" said Harriet, " then that fully accounts for it. i heard the death-watch all last night close to my bed-head." "What is the death-watch V said Father Oswald in some surprise " Don't you know what the death-watch is 1 ?" retorted Harriet. " That does surprise me ; well, it is a little tick-tacking noise, vhich occurs at regular intervals, very slowly, somewhere in tie room ; it is difficult to find out exactly in which part it is; j.nd whenever one hears this, it is a certain forewarning that there is death in the house or neighbourhood/' " Upon my word, Miss Sefton," said the General, laughing," I wonder how a lady of your sense can talk such nonsense ! It was probably your own watch, or your own pulse, or, at the utmost, a certain little spider which makes that said noise." Harriet shook her head incredulously. " I know better than that." said she in a mysterious voice. " It is superstition, my good lad}', to hold such opinions as Ihose." said Father Oswald. " To be sure it is," said the Doctor triumphantly ; " so I havp often told Miss Harriet." Harriet smiled, and only said, " Remember the magpies, Doctor." In the evening the little party assembled as usual in Emma's loom, and the General, was not long ere he sounded the signaJ of war in the Doctor's ear. "Well, Doctor." said he, "1 mean to come to close quarters with you this evening, so let us take up our ground fairly in the beginning." The Doctor groaned internally, but declared he was ready to answer the General's difficulty to the best of his poor abilities.. " Well, then." replied the General, " in the first place we are agreed, that Christ has revealed a code of religious doctrines '.o be believed by all men, under the pain of eternr.l damnation: for. when he sent his Apostles to preach the Gospel to every creature, he added these words, 'He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved ; but he that believeth not, shall be con- demned.' ;: * * Mark xvi. 10 8y FAT1W OSWALD. "Certainly; I agree to thai/' "Then," continued the Gen vat, "since 'God our Saviot . will have all men to be saved, a nc. come to the knowledge a" the truth.'* It follows that He has provided easy, secure, ano certain means, by which all men, the Icaintd and the unlearned. the wise and the ignorant, may know al.' things which God hai revealed, and which they are bound to bei-e?re." " Undoubtedly." " What are these means!" " The Bible, which contains God's infalliMe Word." " Is that means easy 1" " Nothing more easy ; every man can read the Bible, or neai It read." "Nothing more easy," continued the General; "but whei- the unlearned read the Bible, or hear it read, is iteavy lor them to understand it ?" " I suppose so," said the Doctor. "I think not," replied the General. "But is it a secure means to find out the truth 1" " What can be more secure than the infallible Word of God 1" "But what security can a man have in his own opinion, when he finds his neighbour of a different opinion V " Humph !" muttered the Doctor. " If they read with sim- plicity and prayer, they will agree in all essentials." " I doubt that much," replied the General ; " there can be no security when there is no certainty. No man can be certain that his private opinion is true, unless he presumptuously sup- poses himself gilted with more acumen, more light, and more knowledge than his neighbour. But let us come a little more closely to the point. You tell me to search the Scriptures to read the Bible to judge for myself. Why then, do you come to dictate to me, and hurl the thunders of God's wrath against me, if I come to a different conclusion from yours 1" " Why, my good General, your difficulty vanishes like snow before the mid-day sun," said the Doctor, seeming much relieved. " You can never come to the same fair and proper conclusions that we do, because you Catholics do not read the Bible, and are not allowed to read it, and " " I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon, Sir," interrupted the General ; '" be it known to you, that I have read the Bible and thumbed it through and through, and the more I search it, the more am I convinced that the Catholic Church is the only true Church of Christ, ' without spot or wrinkle,' and that ail her supposed abuses and abominations are the visionary workings * 1 Tim. ii. 4. FATHER OSWALD. of a disturbed b/am, or the malignant inventions of a JAY rated heart." " Hold, hold," cried the Doctor ; " there is much to be said before you can convince me, or any other sound Bible reader, that the Catholic is the true Church, and that we do not find she is full of abominations." " Well, Sir," said the General, " have a little patience, at least. What you stale is one of your conclusions; but allow me to state the result of my Biblical observations quietly, and then we shall see." " By all means, by all means, General ; as quietly as you Jike," said the Doctor ; " I am a great friend to quietness in discussion." "Well, then, I was going to state," continued the General. "that I am fully convinced and I have corne to the conclusion after the most cool and mature deliberation that out of the pale of the Catholic Church there is no salvation for my soul ; and that those ' who separate themselves' from it are ' sensual men, having not the Spirit,'* who ' revolt and continue not in the doctrine of Christ,t and, therefore, they have not God.' Now, this being the case, and my own conviction, grounded, as it appears to rne, upon the clearest testimonies of Holy Scrip- ture, am I to renounce it, and embrace your conviction, gr^und- ed, you honestly believe, upon more solid testimony'? If I re- nounce my own conviction of the truth, I am damned ; if I do not renounce it, you are equally convinced I am damntd. This is truly a sad dilemma; who shall help us out of if? Thank God! /have a way out of it; but my solicitude is. for you: you have made your last appeal to Scripture, you have no far- ther resource." " Yes, you see, General, we have both studied Scripture, and 7 can answer lor my own intentions being pure, so you need not lhe Gospel no doui.t contains the compendium ol those truths.'-' " But ihe Gospel/' rejoined Father Oswald, !l must be prraoted * Judo 19 '. Epti. i* ;< 12 John 9 4 Juae 3 36 FATHER OSWALD. and tanU by men who have authority.* The Apostles and I heir legitimate successors have received this authority from Christ himself: ' Go, teach all nations, teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded.' The Gospel of Christ is essentially one ; when, therefore, ' lying teachers' corie amongst us, and announce new, perverse, and contradictory (i)iininns as the doctrines of Christ, we say tothem, You announce ' another gospel, which is not another, only there are some that trouble you, and would pervert the Gospel of Christ. Bui though we, or an angel from Heaven, preached a gospel to you besides that which we have preached to you, lot him be ana- thema.' >; t There was a pause ; all seemed struck with the words they had just heard, and the impressive manner in which they were uttered; but, in a few minutes, the Doctor, rallying his scattered intellects, said, in a hurried manner " But I maintain that the Roman Church is fallen and apos tate ; and her priests not being able to produce Scripture author- ity for all they teach, appeal to tradition and antiquity: the religion which founds its chief claim en antiquity must be weak." "Why, Doctor," exclaimed the General, "you called in anti- quity to your own aid just now ! Do be consistent, at least." "But," said Harriet, coming forward to support the Doctor, " if antiquity is a proof of truth, Mahometans have more right to it than Catholics, and more claim to numbers, power, and unity; many of the doctrines of Mahomet being more ancient than the ncvly discovered doctrines of Mass and Purgatory." " Besides," interposed the Doctor, "the supremacy of the Pope began only in the seventh century." " My friends, my friends, what a confusion of accusations, and a jumble of ideas!" exclaimed the General; "just listen one moment: it seems to me, that if an antiquity, which extends in one unbroken chain up to the Apostles themselves, be not a n.'oof of the true Church of Christ, I know not what is. Again, Mass and Purgatory, and every other dogma of the Catholic Church, are proved by the testimony of Fathers who lived long before Mahomet; had it not been a lady who had made these observations, I should have said, what ignorance !" Harriet bit her lip. " But, Sir, I would have you to understand clearly," persisted the Doctor, " that Protestants deny the succession of the popes * See on this subject, a most interesting volume published by Cass and Sons, ^ew York, The Written Word and the Living Witness, or Ihble Question Fairly Tested: Part III. t Gai. i. 6, 7, 8. serly PATHKR OSWALD. 9t from St. Peter, or, that St. Peter ever was bishop of Rome _ Protestants are quite as capable of discerningtruth as Catholics there is no means of go ting at truth on such points, but historic evidence." " Pshaw . pshaw ! Doctor." cried the General, offering him a p'inch of snuff, "well-informed Protestants are now ashamed ol such an old wife's fable. St. Irenasus, who lived in the second century, the disciple of St. Polycarp, who was the disciple of St. John the Apostle, has given us the list of the popes down to nis own days, beginning vvirh St. Peter " " Nothing can be plainer than that, I think," said Emma. " But from historic evidence, my dear Mrs. Sei'ton," replied '.he Doctor, " Protestants deny that the Church of Piome hns for many centuries resembled, or does now resemble the primitive Church, as described in the New Testament." Mrs. Sefton smiled. " Faith !" said the General, laughing, " the Protestant clergy oiling in wealth, ease, and luxury, would cut a curious figure, :ompared with the primitive preachers of the Gospel. It would >e a most edifying spectacle, to see the Protestant laity selling fheir possessions and uniting their property for the common USP of all. Thousands and tens of thousands of Catholics of both sexes follow this primitive rule to the lettor in religious commu- nities, even to the present day." The Doctor looked very angry. "AVell, I am convinced." persisted he, " that the Catholic Church teaches many painful things not contained in the Bible. 1 ' "No, Doctor, it does not," said Father Oswald ; "the volun- tary poverty of so many individuals in the Catholic Church is one of those painful things, I suppose !" " Well, I as a sound Protestant divine," said the Doctor solemnly, " maintain that no doctrines ought to be received, but what can be plainly shown in the Bible." "Then we must turn Jews," said Emma, laughing, " and Keep the sabbath-clay on Saturday. But how do you prove your assertion 1 You must prove it from your Bible; lor really I cannot admit it on mere assertions, Doctor." , The Doctor looked puzzled, but after a pause said, " Mrs. Sel'ton, I prove it in this way, that the observances most insisted on in the Roman Church, as, confession, mass, purgatory, and sm.li like fond inventions, are only commandments of men." " If you call confession a commandment of men," said Father Oswald, " will you tell me, by. what man it was first given ! and also by what extraordinary power he could prevail upon a!i Christians to submit themselves to so grievous, and till then so unheard of a yoke V 9* 98 FATHER OS tt'ALD. " Oh !" said the Doctor, " it was introduced gradually in the dark ages." "Still," replied Father Oswald, "Some Pope, Bishop, or Priest must have begun the innovation; did he meet with no opposition V " What opposition could he meet with," answered the Doctor, ' from the ignorant and superstitious men of those times ?" "Doctor," interposed the General, " you have, melhinks, a congregation consisting of as ignorant and superstitious a set of bumpkins, as ever disgraced a Christian congregation in a. Christian country ; I will bet a hundred pounds to a sixpence, that in twelve months you will not persuade one to come tc confession to you/' " 1 shall never make the experiment, General, I promise you/' said the Doctor. " But, my good Sir," said Father Oswald, " you must surely nave read St. John's Gospel, in Avhich he relates our Saviour's words ' When He had said this, He breathed upon them ; and He said to them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost: whose sins you shall forgive, they are. ibrgiven them ; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.'* Here we see the commission stamped by the broad seal of Heaven, by virtue of which the Pastors of Christ's Church absolve repenting sinners upon their confession." " But there is not a word about confession there," interrupted the Doctor; " I know there is a text in St. James, which says, 'Confess your faults one to another,'t and so forth, but in this text there is not a word said about a priest, or minister of reli- gion." '' duote correctly, my good Doctor, quote correctly," cried the General; "the text is this; 'Confess therefore your sins one to another; and pray for one another that you may be saved:': now, liiis little word therefore, refers to what the Apos- tle had just mentioned in the verses fifteen and fourteen of the same chapter, in which he had ordered the priests of the Church ;o be called for, and brought in to the sick." "Certainly," said Father Oswald; " and as we have already seen from the words of St. John, that Christ our Lord gave to his Apostles, and their successors in the ministry, the power to furtiic-e and to rclttin sins, nothing can be more clear than the consequences which must follow trom this discretionary power, namely, that we must confess our sins, and make known the stale of our consciences to the ministers of Christ, before they can possibly know whose sins they are to forgive, and whose .hey are to retain." * John xx. 22. 23 + .Jamns ^ IK t James v. 10. FATHER OSWALD. 90 '''Mosi disagreeable doctrine, indeed!" mattered Harriet; ;i 1 wonder how any one can be induced to take such a deal of use- less trouble." ' For the sake of his immortal sou!," said the General. "Yes," continued Father Oswald; "we all have our sins: one condition is requisite to obtain pardon ; we must amf-ssonr sins, and then God is faithful and just in his promises, and He will cleanse us, through the sacrament of penance, of all our iniquities. Jesus Christ is then our Advocate with the Father. He is the propitiation for our sins. His blood cleanseth us from them all. Of this we cannot doubt; for f.ve efiicacy ol the sacrament is derived from the blood of Christ ; but that blood must be applied to our souls through those channels which He has opened, one of which the Apostle most clearly points out. namely. ' if we confess our sins,'* so clearly, that none but the wilfully blind can mistake it." " Do you ever recollect, Doctor," said Emma with an arch 'mile, " to have read in the works of St. Martin Luther himself these words 1 ' Sooner,' says he ' would I submit to the papal tyranny, than let confession be abolished.' " "Some spurious edition, no doubt," said the Doctor, rising and taking his candle ; ' : but I must wish you good night, Mrs. Sefton, I have a letter to write for tomorrow's post; but you, my good lady, are grossly deceived if you think the Roman Catholic Church has power to forgive sins; no, she has no such power: none but God can forgive sins. No command exists in the Bible to confess to priests, at least that I can interpret in tha. light." "Hold, Doctor," cried the General ; "we cannot let you off in that style; sit down a tew minutes longer." " Excuse me, General." replied the Doctor, walking towards the door, " it is a letter of importance, and must be ready." " Will you stick to your charge then, Doctor, for four-and- twenty hours, and stand fire to-morrow evening: rememlier, Sir, you have given no answer to my objection ; so, in order that you may have something to ponder upon, if you should chance to wake in the night, I will state it again briefly. Two serious Bible readers come to two contradictory conclusions on seme great mystery of faith affecting their eternal salvation ; which is to yield to the other 1 or how is the question ;*> i:o settled ? Has Christ commanded us to believe all that he linf revealed under the pain of eternal damnation, and provided no easy, secure, and certain means of knowing what he hasrecal'\l 1 think of that, Dr. Davison." 1 John. i 100 FATHEK OSW.ILD. " As to that, General Russell, I have given my answer ; it it not likely I shall change my mind to-morrow, and I am not afraid of your lire, I can assure you; but the morrow will pro- vide for itself, ' sufficient for the day is the evil thereof,' say* Holy Scripture," muttered he to himself, as he walked along the corridor to his room. In a lew minutes, Harriet took her candle also, and retired When she had closed the door after her, Mrs. Sefton asked hei uncle, with a sigh, how long he thought Dr. Davisoa was going 10 ,'tay." "I don't know, my dear; the shorter the better," said hn bluntly. " Long or short," said Father Oswald kindly, " don't let this iittle trial disturb you, my dear child; God will strengthen and protect you in all your difficulties, if you place your whole trust in. Him; but you have been quite long enough disturbed this evening; so good-night, and God bless you." CHAPTER XIII. " 'Heathens,' they said, 'ran toll us right from wrong, Jhit to the Christian higher points belon;,'." Yet Jacques proceeded, void of fear and *hame, In his old method, and obtained the name Of Moral Preaclur. Vet they all areed, Whatever error had defiled his creed. His life was pure ; and him they could commend. Not as their guide indeed, but. as their friend." CUABBB DOCTOR DAVISON had his letter ready for the post the ne.r. morning, as he had announced the previous even ing; but to his treat disappointment the post could not go. The snow ha?, in- creased so much during the night, that all the roads from tliu 1 II 11 were completely blocked up. The letter wasto Mr. Sefton. complaining bitterly of the disagreeable circumstances in which Ii3 lound himself placed; and his entire conviction, that be could be of no use whatever to Mrs. Sefton in bringing her back to Protestantism. He failed not to hint at his own zealous exertions in the cause in which Mr. Sefton had so deep an in- terest, and to insert two or three well-turned sentences of ree'ret at the hopeless obstinacy of the strayed sheep; he concluded by recommending measures of conciliation, and by giving his FAT-HKR OSWALD. 101 opinion, that mildness would do more than violence and perse- cution to carry conviction to the heart. The Doctor had deter- mined, moreover, to return immediately to the parsonage, and there wait for the answer; the unexpected increase ot'the snow- storm was therefore a considerable annoyance to him, as he coulil not help anticipating a iew more troublesome days ami wearisome evenings. In vain he looked out of the window, and then consulted the thermometer ; the snow seemed every moment to increase, and the whole air was darkened with the constant and quiet succession of brilliant flakes, as they silently descended to feed the dazzling mass of snow which covered the whole surface of the landscape several feet deep, as far as the eye could reach to the utmost bounds of the horizon. There was no resource' for the Doctor, but to find some occupation to divert his mind from the tedium of this involuntary captivity ; he therefore settled himself to write a letter to Mrs. Davison, to have the pleasure of complaining at least of all his annoyances- .rusting, in the meantime, that the road would be sufficiently cleared to allow a passage ibr the little boy, who carried the post-bag to the next town and passed the door of the parsonage in his route. Father Oswald was compelled also to remain, but not unwillingly ; for he saw he could in this moment impart much benefit and consolation to the new con vert; besides, he knew his flock at his little Mission could not suffer, as there was one of the superiors of his Order staying there ibr a time on business of the Society. Mrs. Sefton i'elt the influence of the severe storm and was not well enough to see her friends in the evening. This was a great relief to the worthy Doctor, though he affected to lament the circumstance much, and neglected not to send most polite inquiries after the invalid by Harriet and Mrs. Ashton. In the evening the General challenged him to a game at chess, and failed not now and then to remind him, thai he came off much better in that battle, than it was likely ho would in his controversial one. which he begged him to remem- ber stood over for the next meeting in his niece's room. This meeting the Doctor promised himself would never take plare- for he had determined to urge business of importance, ana escape to the parsonage the moment the road was safe; but this determination, like so many of more importance, vanished be- fore the influence of circumstances. In a few days, Mrs. Sefton was able to receive them, and the Doctor was still snow-bound ; he could not in common politeness avoid joining the parly, i bough somewhat late in the evening. The Doctor did his u'.- i vst to keep the conversation on general topics, in which Father Os'vald seconded him, and entertained them with seine rexy 105J FATIIEU OSWALD. Interesting literary anecdotes ; for he did not thimc ihese con- troversial discussions good either for Mrs. Sei'ton's health or spirits, in her present convalescent state. But the General was not to be baulked of his evening's amusement; besides, h thought the sooner the Doctor got a good drubbing, as he called it. the sooner the matter would be finished, and the sooner they would be released from his presence ; therefore, the moment there was a convenient pause in the conversation, he commenced, " Weil, Doctor, do you still stick to your charge, that the Church has no power to remit sins, and that there is no command to that effect in the Bible ?" "Yes, General," said the Doctor very reluctantly; "I do repent what I said some evenings since ; it is my creed, that none but God can forgive sins." " On my word ! and a very easy way you have chosen to get rid of your sins," replied the General ; "you have only tobelievo in the Scriptures according to your creed, and the job is done, now let me try the experiment. Suppose my conscience ia Imrthened with sin, I make an act of faith, I must firmly believe that Christ died for me. and made full atonement to the justice of God for all my sins; I believe this on the infallible Word of God, as I read it in the Scriptures, lo! my sins are blotted out; nothing more comfortable!'' <; Very comfortable, indeed!" said Harriet. "Wait a little, Miss Sefton," continued the General. "1 open the Scriptures again, and they tell me. I must confess my sins to a man who has received power to forgive them, and, lo ! my sins stare me again in the face! not quite so comfortable after all, you see, Miss Harriet." "Blaspheme not, Sir," said the Doctor, turning very red, " this is not a fit subject for jesting with." " I beg your pardon, Dr. Davison, I never was more serious in my life," replied the General ; " but let me finish my sentence. Well, I now betake myself, alter due preparation, to the confes- sional, and when I have got over the disagreeable, but indispen- sable task of declaring my sins, of blushing at my iniquities, of detesting them from my heart, repenting of the grievous offence I have given to God, and proposing, on no considera- tion, ever more to relapse into them, I receive absolution, or the pardon and remission of all ; then I rise up from the feet of the Confessor, with well-founded confidence that my iniquities h;,ve been really forgiven. Now, indeed, I feel comfortable, ;.nd the more so, that I have carried my faith in Scripture into faithful execution. That no one but God can forgive sins is very true and sound Catholic doctrine ; but it is equallv true that God FATHER OSWALIJ. 303 ran prescribe what conditions He, in His wisdom, mercy, and I ustice, shall deem proper; and that He can exercise this His supreme power through any minister on whom He pleases to confer it. :> " But, Sir," said the Doctor emphatically, " has God conferred such power on man 1 has He given this, His supreme power, to weak, sinful man as His delegates V " Yes, He has," said Father Oswald firmly : " Christ cur Saviour wrought a miracle to prove that God can do this." " How is that, Sir? I do not remember any such thing in Scripture," said the Doctor. "And yet St. Matthew relates it thus: 'And behold, they lirought to Him one sick of the palsy, lying on a bed. And Jesus, seeing their faith, said to the man sick of the palsy, Be of good heart, son, thy sins are forgiven thee. And behold, some of the Scribes said within themselves, He blasphemeth. And Jesus, seeing their thoughts, said, Why do you think evil in your hearts 1 Whether is it easier to say, Thy sins are for- given thee, or to say, Arise, and walk 1 But that you may know that the Sou of man. hath power on earth to forgive sins (then said He to the man, sick of the palsy), Arise, take up thy bed, and go into thy house. And he arose, and went into his house. And the multitudes, seeing it, feared and glorified God, that gave such power to men.'* We now and then meet with a glimpse of Protestantism in Holy Scripture. The Scribes in this passage are fair representations of them; for, like them, they say, ' He blasphemeth.' " "Egad!" exclaimed the General, "true Protestants again, the Bible swarms with them." " It is too much, Sir, it is too much," said the Doctor very indignantly." " Not at all too much, my good friend," replied Father Oswald, quietly ; you made use of those very words yourself, not three minutes ago, to the General. But observe. Dr. Davison, Christ promised to confer this power of forgiving sins, first upon PetiT alone, with the plenitude of all jurisdiction : ' I will give to lh.ce the keys of the kingdom of Heaven. And whatsoever then shalt bind upon earth, it- shall be bound also in Heaven; and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth, it shall be loosed also in Heaven. 't Next, He gave it to all the Apostles in a body: 'Amen, I say to you, whatsoever you shall bind upon earth; fiiall be bound also in Heaven ; and whatsoever you shall loose upon earth, shall be loosed also in Heaven.'} At length H-; actually conferred that power as fully cs He had received i( Matt if. 2,8. T Mitt. xvi. JO I Matt xviii. 18. 04 FATHER OSWALD. rom the Father: 'As the Father hath sent me, I also send you. When he had said this, he brrrJhcd upon them, and lie said to them, Receive ye the Holy Ghost ; whose sins you sh;ill forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you sh.ili retain, they are retained.'* It is evident from this very explicit text, that Christ constituted his Apostles judges over tne con- sciences of men ; for they are to determine who is fit to have his sins forgiven, cr who is not fit, and must have his sins retained. Now, it is impossible that the ministers of Christ can come to this knowledge but by the candid confession of the penitent. "But," said Harriet doubting!}', "supposing Christ did give this power to his Apostles, it does not follow that it exists in :he Catholic Church now: it cert: inly js not practised in (lie Pro testant Church, and if the power exists at all, is considered as a de;id letter." " My dear Miss Sefton," replied Father Oswald. " the powers which Christ gave to his Apostles, when he sent them, are transmitted to their successors in the ministry until the end ol ' days : ' Behold I am with you all * Car v jft, tit. TATHKK OSWALD. 105 "Why, it is as clear as the sun at noonday, Doctor," said the General; "take a pinch of snuff to brighten your intellects; 1 fear they are somewhat oSuscated." "You see," s?.id Father Oswald patiently, "the Apostle in Ihis passage expressly says, that Christ has established in hii Hhurch a ministry of reconciliation 'or the forgiveness of sins, that his ministers are the ambassadors or delegates of God, holding the word of reconciliation or the power of absolul ion Again St John exhorts also to confession : ' If we say tit: t wt nave no sin. we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us out sins, and cleanse us from all iniquity.'* St. J.;ines is equally earnest on this point : ' Confess, therefore, your sins one to an- i.ther;'t there can be no doubt the Apostle means, to those who, we have just seen, have power lofur^iet them or to retain them." " Well." said Harriet, " what you have just stated is certainly very strong; still this confession is a most severe law to flesh and blood ; and then the trouble and bother of it ! to say nothing of the shame one must leel to te!i all one's faults to a man ; dear me ! I am sura I never could bring my mind to do it. Would it be absolutely necessary, Sir, belore one could be made a Catholic!" "You have seen," said Father Oswald smiling, "that St. Feter holds the keys of the kingdom of Heaven ; we must be content to enter there on the conditions our Saviour has attached to unlocking the door. :: " Besides, Harriet," said Emma, " though it seems at first a very hard and disagreeable thing to a Protestant, yet, I do as- sure you, that the inexpressible peace and comfort which suc- ceed the performance of this duty, will repny a tboussndi'oM whatever there is humiliating and painful in ft. Before I took the final determination of becoming a Catholic, it was one of the things which worried and frightened me more than any other; it used to occur to rny waking thoughts and U> my nightly dreams ; and in the midst of rny most pleasing occupations it brought a pang to my heart, which I cannot describe, i thought it would be impossible to get oVer this great difficulty. I prayed to God to help me, and then I began to think of it with less ap- prehension ; I resolved to do it. whatever it might cost me, for the love of God; when I cam? t;> the execution of ry resolve, my fears and horror of it redoubled ; but God had compassion on me, and gave me graco to kneel down at the feet of the priest, and to confess niy sins; then all the difficulties vanished, and in a few moments, instead of feeling one of the most * 1 Juh:i i. 8. y t Jumes v. 15. 10 (Ob FATHER OSWALD. frightened and miserable of beings, I felt one of the most con- soled and most joyful. Since that I have had no difficulty; but every time I approach this sacrament, I feel an increase of peace and spiritual consolation." Doctor Davison appeared affected, and sighed deeply. " Yes," observed the General musingly; "it is this bugbear of confession which prevents hundreds from coming to the point, arid embracing the Catholic religion, though they perfectly feel the conviction that it is the only true one ; they cannot brook the humiliation of telling their sins to a fellow-man, though that man is bound by all laws, divine and human, to perpetual secrecy. You can never, my dear niece, sufficiently thank God, who gave you the grace to overcome your natural repugnance, for I will acknowledge it is a very natural repugnance, to this act of penance, and who enabled you to embrace the humi fjiation of the Cross " " I should not so much object," said the Doctor rather slowly. "to the humiliation of the ;ict ; it is not that I should mind so much; but I object to the system altogether, as tyrannical and galling, nay, even as demoralizing, and liable to great ahuses." " Halt, halt, for Heaven's sake! 1 ' cried the General; "those who tax a law which Jesus Christ himself has given us with ibeing tyrannical, gallinsr, and demoralizing, are rash indeed, .and should tremble, lest they may incur the guilt of blasphemy/' " Oh, no," said Mrs. Sefton earnestly ; " that is not as I have reason to suspect i/our objection to confession, nor that of any . other Protestant who professes to believe in the divinity of Christ; for God could never give us a law galling, tyrannical and de- moralizing; rather confess candidly that it is the humiliation and ]>c.n ;nc-:." " Pray, tell me, Doctor," interposed the General, " do you ever hear the confessions of your parishioners'?'' " Never," answered the Doctor with emphasis. " Yet it is prescribed in your Common Prayer-book, in the "Visit.'ition of the Sick." " That," said the Doctor, " is quite optional to the sick person 'In the beginning of the Reformation it was necessary to quiet the scruples of the people, who had been accustomed to it ujjtter popery. Now the people know better, and no o::e needs it." " Then I suppose," said the General, with a malicious smile, 'you consider the Bishop to be acting a notable farce, when he ,*ays his hands on your head, and says, ' Whose sins you shall 'forgive, they are forgiven them,' and so forth." " Speak more reverently, Sir, if you please," exclaimed the .Doctor; " these an the words of Holy Scripture." FATHER OSWALD. 107 " And most irreverently applied, my good Doctor, if they mean nothing." "They have their meaning," responded the Doctor; "but what have they to do with penance 1 there is no such word in Scripture." "Ana yet, what says St. John the Baptist 1 'Do penance; for the kingdom of Heaven is at hand,' "* added the General. "There I entirely differ from you. General Russell," replied he Doctor warmly; ibr the Catholic Bible is wrongly transia- led, as in this instance; instead of ' do penance, 1 the Protestant Bible translates it, ' repent' from the Greek." " But, Doctor Davison. did you never observe," said Father Oswald, " that the English Catholic Bible purports to be, in its title-page, a translation of the Latin Vulgate, and so it is a most faithful one 7 Therefore, 'do penance' is the expression of the Vulgate : now. are we to be told that the translators of the Greek text into Latin, so many hundred years ago, did not understand the meaning of the Greek word, but that its true meaning was reserved for the sagacity of the Protestant sciolists 1 Shame on them ! let them consult the Greek Fathers ; let them ask the Greek Christians of the present day, how they understand the word, and these Protestant qnibblers will find that the Greeks agree with the English Catholic version." ~"Yes," added the General; "for, in fact, tc. 'do penance,' implies repentance, and something more; for, nn man proceeds to inflict upon himself external acts of penanre, until he has acquired an internal change of heart. Penance v/as always hateful to Protestants, who, for the most part, walk so, that we may say with the Apcstle, ' that they are enemies of the Cross of Christ; whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame ; who mind earthly things.' "t "You are too severe, General," said the Doctor reddening; " Protestants, I can tell you, see no religion in fasting, mortifi- cations, and penances; more especially lasting in public at stated times; fasting as commanded by the Church, or exceed- ing what the Church commands, is absolutely contrary to Scrip- ture." "Oh! yes," said the General, laughing; "it is very natura. that Protestants should see no religion in lasting, mortifications, and penan.ces. They have inherited the dislike to such things from their great ancestor, Martin Luther, the profligacy of whose life sufficiently proves his abhorrence of such uncom!ort;,ble practices; he was wont to say, 'I cannot lx?ar this Jerome, he is perpetually canting about fasting and continence.' "; * Matt. iii. 2. + Phil, iii 18 i Serv. Arb 108 FATHER OSWALD. " Yes," said the Doctor, " Luther had seen how liable such things are to introduce bad consequences, such as hypocrisy and licentiousness, particularly among the Clergy, so lie wisely re- formed those abuses." " We must not lay aside a good practice, Doctor, because it maybe abused; otherwise, we should be reduced to various straits." said Father Oswald; "Catholics, on the contrary, believing that ' Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an ex- ample, that you should follow His steps,'* and knowing that 'Christ did not please Himself ;'t think only of His forty days' fast, His vigils by night. His having no place whereon to lay His head, His humiliations, His sufferings, as so Many striking examples given to his followers, which at a great dis- tance they try to imitate ; they are encouraged in their efforts by the practice of the Apostle, who says, ' I chastise my body, and bring it into subjection. 1 "j " But," said Harriet, " has not Christ reprobated fasting, when He Bays, 'When vou fast, be not as the hypocrites, sad, lev they disfigure their laces, that they may appear unto men tc fast. But thou, when thou fastest, anoint thy head, and wash thy face' ?" '" What a singular instance of Bible reading when viewed through a pair of Protestant spectacles !" said the General, with surprise. " I beg your pardon, Sir," said Harriet, colouring and drawing herself up; " I do not wear spectacles, at least, very, very seldom, and that only when I am doing open hem by can- dlelight." "Well, my dear Miss Sefton, no offence'," said the General, in an apologetic tone; "however, the Doctor does; so it comes much to the same thing. I only want to prove to yon, that these said Prnb'stavt spectacles obscure the Bible reader in his views of Scripture truths rather than aid him ; for if you had rend another verse, you would have found these words, 'and the Father will repay thee,' so that you see there is some profit .'n fasting; moreover, by the same reasoning, it follows from the context, that Christ equally reprobr.tes prayer and almsilceds. Because the hypocrites, you tell me, 'disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast, but thou when thou fastes! anoint thy head an;] wash thy face,' therefore there is no religion in fasting and corporal pennnces. Now, listeti to the parity ot such reasoning. Because the hypocrites love to stand and prav in the synagogues, and corners of the streets, therefore there is no religion in frequenting the churches, or the conventicle, or * 1 Peter ii. 21. t [loin. iv. 3. t 1 Cor. ix. 27. 4 Matt, vi 1C. 17 FATHER OSWALD. I9 1 ) prnyer-meeting. where much speaking and long-winded orisons are poured forth. Because the hypocrites sound a trumpet Ixjfore them in the synagogues and in the streets, therefore there is no religion in the jingle and glitter of coin dropped into th-2 open plate at the conventicle door, or in the names trumpeted in the subscription lists of Bible Societies, Missionary Societies, Reformation Societies, ct cttzra, ct cetera. Strange Bible com- mentators these! Christ, in the passage you have jusi mentioned, re-probates equally prayer, fasting, and almsdeeds, when done through a motive of hypocrisy, ' that they may be seen by men ;' but Ha equally commends to his disciples, and enjoins also, fasting, as well as prayer and almsdeeds, when done for the pure ;;iid sole motive of pleasing God." ' Bless me, General ! what a rout you make just about a sim- ple, innocent observation," exclaimed Harriet in a pet. " I a 1 ways hated controversy ; I never could endure it ; and what unlucky sprite put it into my head to speak, I know not. But I knew something vexatious was sure to happen, when you were clumsy enough to spill that nasty salt close to my plate at dinner." Emma laughed outright, neither could Father Oswald keep his countenance. The General attempted an apology for his awkwardness, but the Doctor, with much gravity said, "No, Miss Sefton, it was neither an unlucky sprite, northespijlingof a little salt, which caused you to speak forth in the good cause of truth, and to exercise your right reason in free discussion. Whatever Catholics may say, I maintain, that watching and praying, and bearing the crosses God sends us, and resisting our inclinations, when contrary to our obedience to God, is suf- ficient, without mortifying our inclinations, merely because they are natural inclinations." " What !" said the General, with unfeigned surprise, " are watching, and prat/ir, r.nd bearing crosses, and resisting evil lrn.liiiai.inns, any ways requisite 1 A little while since you tolil us all this was perfectly useless ! nay, even that it was contrary 'o Holy Scripture. From my perusal of the Bible, particularly the New Testament, I have interred that to rex-id the evil incli- nr. lions of nature, yes, and to nub due them too. is the primary duty of every Christian, and the great triumph of gn.ce over corrupted nature." "To be sure," said the Doctor, ''there can be little douht bin that Christians ought to try, as I just observed, to resist their evil inclinations; but God knows how difficult it is, and almost impossible, in the sense in which you Catholics mean it." '' W* kuow very well," replied Father Oswald, "that in this ID* 110 FATIJKR OSWALD. warfare of the flesh against the spirit, of ourselves MT. ,'.an da nothing, but with the grace of God we can do eveiy auv-ft. 1 say we can do nothing by our own unaided strength, but (vilified by llie grace of Christ we can do much, therefore io>: rtuifH co- operate with the grace of God. These exertions on our ysf\ are of two sorts, internal and external; the internal consist hi file acts of the free will, always strengthened by divine grace, ly which we promptly repress the first rising emotions of our passions, and these I am willing to allow are the more penecl acts of virtue: the external consist in the mortification of Ihe senses, and sensible pains inflicted on the body. These acts 6f themselves are of no avail, unless accompanied by the internal acts of the soul ; but so accompanied, they are powerful to sub- jugate the passions, and render ' the members as instruments ol justice unto God.' "* " Inflicting pains on the body lo make nn impression on the soul !" said Harriot contemptuously; "what ridiculous n^n^ense, and how perfectly useless." ' : By no means useless," continued Father Oswald mildly, "it is very salutary, however you may dislike it; for, if to pamper the body, to indulge the senses, to loll in ease and luxury, ant! feast sumptuously every day, are powerful incentives to concu- piscence and sin, it follows of necessity, that 'to crucify the flesh,' to ' mortify the members,' to check the appetites, to watch, to fast, to pray, are powerful means to acquire the dominion of the spirit over the body. So whosoever does these tilings with the pure motive of pleasing Gocl, does works highly acceptable to Him, and ' He will repay him.' There is another motive for external mortification, which is, ' to do penance for our sins ;' a still more sublime motive, which has animated the saints to the most heroic deeds of penance, is to render themselves in some sort ' conformable to the image of His Son.'t But these r.re motives," added the Father, sighing, " which none but Catholics- can understand." "Luckily for us, we cannot understand any such curious ideas," said Harriet, whose horror at the very thought of the trouble and disagrceableness of doing penance, had quite rousrd her. " I once opened a book I found on Emma's table, cal.c-d, 1 think, 'The Lives of the Saints.' Well, to be sure, I naver read such curious things in my life. I went reading and reading en, ibr I dare say a couple of hours ; it really quite interested me: Such penances! it was something so new to me. Such accounts of hair shirts, and disciplines, and spending whole hours in saying their prayers. Oh dear me ! I could not help * Horn vi. 13 t Horn, viii 2'J PATH EH OSWALD. 111 pitying them, and feeling sorry they had given themselves such a deal of useless trouble, to say the least of it, for some of them must have been quite blinded by enthusiasm. However, I sup- pose such things don't take place no\v-a-days." "Indeed they do," said Emma; "Catholics still many of them, take the discipline, wear hair shirts, and do penances- and as to the saints, they need not your pity, but ought rather to excite your emulation ; for now they are glorified spirits in Heaven, reaping the rich reward of their penances and good works, done for the love of God here below." "Well, I cannot envy them their penances," said Harriet, " for I hope to gel a bed in Heaven at a much cheaper rate : I am quite satisfied there is no need of mortifications to subdue our evil inclinations, the guidance of the soul with the grace of God being sufficient." " St. Paul," replied Emma, " the vessel of election, had surely the guidance of the soul ; but, perhaps you mean conscience, by this strange expression ; and St. Paul had also the grace of God, yet he did not think this quite sufficient to preserve him from reprobation; for he says, 'but I clias'iK my bixh/, and bring it into subjection; lest perhaps, when I have preached to others, I myself should become a castaway.' "* Harriet looked a little uneasy, but said. " Well, well, Emma, you will see, that penance can do nothing for us at the hour of death." " It is quite enough for us if it can do something for us before that time," replied Emma; "few think of doing much penance at that awful moment. It is enough Ihf.n for the pious Christian to bow in humble submission to the divine will, and kiss the hand that inflicts the greatest chastisement of sin, 'for by sin death entered into the world.' " " You have thought much more about these things than ( have," said Harriet, somewhat pensively. " There is but one thing necessary, dearest Harriet," answer- ed Emma, with a sigh. " Come, my dear, it is high time you were in bed," said the General, looking at his watch. " Indeed it is,'' added Father Oswald, " so God bless you, my dear Madam." " HTVC you got that book by you, Mrs. Sefton, which Miss [Jurriet was just now mentioning 1" said Doctor Davison ; " the ' Lives of the Saints, I think. I should just like tn v av A look a. it." * 1 Cor. is. 27 12 FATHER OSWALD. " It is in the library, Sir; it belonged lo my poor father; mj uncle will show you the shell' where yon can find it." " Thank you, Madam, and good-night," replied the Doctor, following General Russell into the library. CHAPTER XIV. A hideous figure of their foes they draw : Nor lines, nor looks, nor shades, nor colours true , And this grotesque design expose lo view, And yet tiie dauonig pleases !" PUYDF.N. "WELL, Doctor Davison," said Mrs. Sefton, after the lime party round her fire-side had finished their tea the following evening, " what do you think of the ' Lives of the Stints,' which you asked me to lend you last night 1" " Yes," said Harriet eagerly; "what do you think of them, Sir 1 did I not say truly it is a curious production ?" "Ladies," said the Doctor, solemnly, "my opinion of ihe singular work I have been perusing this rooming, may not be agreeable to all parties here present; so I had best, I think, keep it to myself." "I ihink that is scarcely fair upon us, Sir," said Harriet, somewhat disappointed. "Fair! no, indeed it is not fair," said the General, "come, Doctor, out with it ; we shall be able to stand the shock, I dare say." " Well, then," answered the Doctor, " I must in candour own, that there are many very interesting, and even heroic and edi- (Ving actions related of these pious individuals whom you call Saints: but there are many things mentioned in them, which seem to me so enthusiastic and so extraordinary, that I can scarcely believe them: indeed, some of them, I think, are pr- lectly incredible." "An act of divine faith is not required by the Church from her members for fill the actions which are related of the saints," said Father Oswald, " but merely a human faith, such as we give to historical facts, when founded on what seems lo us good and unobjectionable evidence of the truth of what we read there ; but I think from what you say, Sir, you are altogether pleased with the work you have been skimming through this morning. 1 FATHKR OSWALD. 113 " These wer? -:iy first impnssinns, Sir," re; .ied the Doctor, " but the result f.f my reflections I have not yet told you.'' " Perhaps you will favour us with them, Sir," said Emma. " They mr.y seem strang'e to you, Madam, who probably have not reflect'*! much on the subject; but to me it seems very evi- dent thai our Saviour being a complete Saviour, we have no business, 'J add any of our imperfect doings to that all-peifect work: v/c must trust our salvation wholly to his hands: Jbr a! temp 1 ing to help ourselves is acting as fcols, and dishonouring Clirwt, ibr without Him we can do nothing." " *.'j doubt," answered Father Oswald, ''Christ is a complete Saviour, and nothing is wanted on his part to make his redemp- tion most plenteous. But/' added he, " is nothing wanted on o'ir part, in order to be made partakers of his redemption '? did not St. Paul say, ' I fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ in my flesh' '?"* ' Yes, yes; the Doctor has only put the thought which I tried to express yesterday in a clearer point of view," exclaimed Harriet, triumphantly, '-namely, that at the hour of death, penances, good works, and piety will give no courage to meet our Judge: all will seem a covering of filthy n-gs, ;.-nd the righteousness of Christ alone will be seen to have wrought the work of salvation." "Well, Miss Sefton," said the General gravely, "you have certainly chalked out for yourself a much easier path to Heaver than St. Paul seemed to think advisable ; beware lest you may be deceiving yourself. / always thought that ' to lay up trea- sures in Heaven, 't by prayer, fasting, and almsdeeds, as recom- mended by Jesus Christ, himself in his sermon on tin: mount, would give some secure hope to a poor mortal, when on the point of appearing beibre the tribunal of the just Judge, who will take special account of such good works. Why ! does not Jesus promise the Kingdom of Heaven as a reward to those vho do good works ? 'For I WL-S hungry and you gave me to eat, ct cetera.'; Alas ! this vehement spite of evangelicals against good works shows too clearly whence they all spring" '' I am not an evangelical, General Russell, I would have you to know," retorted Harriet. " You know best what you are, my dear lady," replied the General ; "you express their sentiments however." "Nevertheless, the sentiments are good sentiments," inter- posed the Doctor, " and sound doctrine too; for when the day of eternity comes, we shall see the vanity of such iriiles as mortifications, penances, and watch ings; and we shall require C.il. i 21. * Matt. v\20. t Matt. xv. 35. J 14 FATHER OSWALD. forgiveness for attempting to add such rubbish to niaks more per. cot the finished: work of the Son of Gocl ; ibr these said good, works, fasts, mortifications, penances, and prayers, are of DO merit nor use ; there is no favour to 5e expected from God, nor increase of grace gained, nor help towards Heaven acquired by them, but by the sole merits of Christ, who has merited ant! done all for us. 1 ' "I can see no inference to be drawn from this," said the General : " that as Christ has merited and done all for us, we have nothing to do ourselves! It' it be so, why keep the people in ignorance 1 Why not preach a farewell sermon to them, and speak to them openly at once, somewhat in this style? 'My dearly beloved brethren, I am come to announce to you this morning tidings of great joy : the Salvation of Israel is come : he has made wide the narrow gate, he has opened broad the strait way : enter ye in at the widened portal ; you are no longer to labour, and be barthened: for Christ hath refreshed you ; he has washed you from all your iniquities, he has cleansed you from all your sins. Rejoice always in the Lord; I say again, rejoice. Eat, drink, and be merry; above all things, never mortify your members, with their vices and concupiscences : it is all to no purpose : you are only covering yourself with filthy rags; never presume to add such rubbish to make perfect the finished work of the Son of God. Christ has done all for you ; to think the contrary is a vile popish superstition : for the Papists, poor fools, think there is something ' wanting in the sufferings of Christ, 1 which they fondly imagine they can fill up in their own flesh ; nothing can be more opposed to the Scriptural scheme of man's redemption. How much more comfortable it is to know and to J'eel assured, that our salvation is finished ! We have got above all law ; we have attained Christian liberty : sin and death have lost all dominion over us, and therefore it is quite useless trouble in us to pray and to preach ; let us shut up our churches, or rather let us clear away these lumbering benches ; turn the building into a ball-room, and call in the pipe and tabor. As for me, I never intend to preach again : for that is quite useless ; you all have the Bible, and you can read it, it you like, from beginning to end : you will find my doctrine true. But as some men of gloomy dispositions may easily mistake certain obscure passages of the Bible, which the Pr.pists an? continually putting forth against the clearest evidence, thi.t Christ has done every thing (or us; what say ye, my beloved breihren, o our burning the Bibles altogether in a heap, and hencefor- ward parsing our days in pleasure and jollity ! for, truly, there can be little use in reading the Bible, which cannot hnlo us one FATHER OSWALD. 1 15 #tep towards Heaven, seeing that Christ having done every tiling for us. we hare no need to do any thing for oursel /es; rejoice, therefore, my brethren ; rejoice always in the Lord , again I say, rejoice.' " " Really you are a great deal too bad, General Russell/' said Doctor Davison very indignantly; "ridicule is no argument." ' But it sets things in a clear point of view sometimes," an- swered the General good-hnmou redly ; " however, to be serious in answer to what you assert, namely, that by good works and penance we try to become our own Saviour, I must, in the first place, assure you, that no Catholic tries to become his own Saviour; 1'or he knows, as well as any Biblical can tell him, that Jesus is the only Saviour, 'Neither is there salvation in any other. For there is no other name under Heaven given to man, whereby we must be saved.'* In the second place, he knows also, ;md better it seems than Biblicals know, that he cannot arrive at salvation but by the narrow path which Christ has pointed out to him. Good God ! one would think that the Calvinistical Bible readers had never opened the first pages of the Gospel, when they raise their voices against good works." i; Indeed one would," said Father Oswald, shaking his head; " yet, what can they make of the sermon on the mount 1 it is but an exhortation to the practice of every species of good works : prayer, /asting, almsdeeds, patience, humility, sell-mortification, etcetera; and, though Jesus reprobates the hypocrisy of those who seek the applause of men, yet he tells his disciples, ' So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good tcorks, and glorify your Father who is in Heaven.' "t "That is rather strong, ro be sure," said Hairiet, looking fidgetty. "Then, again," continued Father Oswald, " there is not an epistle of the Apostle, in which he does not exhort the faithful to the practice of good works, springing out of faith, and the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. The whole of St. James's epistle is written to prove their necessity. Hence, the solicitude of Catholics to abound in them ; for they are taught, and they know 'that Christ gave Himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and might cleanse us to Himself a people acceptable, a pursuer <>J good irorkf.'i ' It is a faithful saying and these things I will have thce affirm constantly ; that they who believe in God, may be careful to excel in good works. These things are good and profitable unto men ;' and again, in writing to the Corinthians, the Apostle continues, 'Now, this 1 * Acts \v. 12. t Matt. v. 16. t Tit. ii. 14. 4 Tit. iii. 8. lib FATHE'.l OSWAL.U. say : he wno sowcth sparing;!}', shall also reap sparingly; antf lie who soweth in blessings, shall also reap o!' blessings; and religion and the new one, and in a few weeks she became ? Catholin." 124 FATHER OSWALD. " Go you, my dear lady, and do likewise," said Father Oswa.d smiling very benignantly; "and oh! let all true Christians pray that the light of truth, the light of divine revelation, may continue to extend its beams, till it overcomes all the darkness of Protestants and infidels, dispel ling from their understandings the clouds of ignorance and prejudice; and that the divine grace may soften their hearts and render them docile to the truth, so that they may be reunited to the only true Catholic and Apos- lolic Church, of which Christ is the living Head, to whom every Jiving member is united by that ' faith which purifieth the heart, and worketh by love.' " There was a pause, interrupted only by Dr. Davison rising, wishing them good-night, and taking his candle; in which operation he let fall the snuffers and extinguisher, and fumbled for them so long under the table, that Harriet at length offered to assist him. Emma and her uncle exchanged glances; a few minutes after the Doctor had made his exit, the clock struck eleven, and the little party dispersed for the night. CHAPTER XV. " Ye good distressed ! tfe noble fe%v ! who here unbending stind Beneath life's pressure, ye 1 ^nar up a whi e, And what your bounded vie, which only *a\v A little part, deerneil evil, is no more ; The storms of wintry Time "ill quickly puss, And one unbounded Spring encircle all.'' THOMSON. IN a few days the severity of the weather was sensibly miti- gated, and the much wished-for thaw rapidly followed. The Doctor lost no time in profiting of the first moment in. which the roads became passable, and with great glee took leave of the little partv at the Hall, to return 10 the parsonage ' He had already received a letter from Mr. Sefton, thanking him lor his exertions, and hinting at Church promotion, if he could but succeed in the much-desired object of bringing back his wife to Protestantism. He mentioned also that he wished her as a. last experiment to have an interview with his very particular friend, the Lord Bishop of S , who he expected would pass by Sefton Hall in a short time, on his way to the North, to look after the tithes of a rich rectory worth 2,000 a year, which he FATHER OSWALD. 135 neld in commemlam. Though the Doctor had received this let- ter before he left the Hall, he said not one word about it, from the fear that Harriet might wish him to remain longer lo help her to receive the Bishop. When safely and snugly seated by his own fire-side, he wrote to Mr. Sefton, saying he had been obliged to return to the parsonage, but expressed Ins hopts that the Bishop of S might be more successful with Mrs. Seiton than he had been ; at the same lime, maintaining his decided opinion, that she never would relinquish the religion she had embraced, and again recommending conciliatory measures. In a few weeks, Harriet received a letter from her brother, which both provoked and annoyed her extremely ; inasmuch as it an- nounced the arrival in a few days of the Lord Bishop of S and his ladv, Mrs. Boren, with all the little Borens, and their nurserv-maids, lady's-maids, footmen, valets, coachmen and horses, to pass a night at Sefton Hall on their road to the North, with an express desire, that they should all be treated wilh the gre; test attention and hospitality. "Upon my word! and a nice little modest suite too for a Bishop ; quite apostolic," said the General, laughing, as Harriet, in order to give vent lo her vexation, read aloud to him at break- fast that paragraph of her brother's letter. " I really think my brother has gone out of his mind," added she ; " what is to be done. General ? And then the disturbance it will be to poor Emma, now especially that she is really begin- ning to tret a little better." " Say nothing to her about it, Miss Harriet, till they are all in the house, or going out of it ; and then pass it off as an acci- dental occurrence." "Not so easily done as you think, my good General," said Harriet with a perplexed air ; " you don't know what this Bishop is coming here lor." " To make this house an inn on his way '.o the North, I suppose V "No, no," said Harriet smiling; "that may perhaps be one reason ; but the principal object of this invasion is to make Mrs. Seflon renounce Cathol city." "Folly! worse than lolly!" exclaimed the General indig- nantly; "as you yourself must ere this be fullv aware." " Yes; I think any other attempt in thai respect is quite use- less," replied Harriet with a sigh. " I'll tell you what, Miss Seiton. "ss id the General."! am quite determined upon one thing, and it is this; that if your brother makes no conciliatory advances towards reconciliation witl> his wile the moment she is strong enough to bear the 126 FATHER OSWALD. motion of a carriage, I shall have her removed to Weetwood and take charge of her myself, till such time as Mr. Sefton comes to his senses." " Oh! dear Sir," said Harriet with a look of great distress "it will only widen the breach and make matters worse." 11 1 am of a different opinion, my dear Madam." At this moment John opened the door, and told the General that his mistress wished to speak to him when breakfast was finished. When the General answered the summons, he found Emma in tears, with an open letter in her hand she gave it to her uncle to read , it was couched in severe terms, reproaching her lor the little attention she had paid to Dr. Davison's exhor- tations, and consequently the little affection and care she had for her husband and his happiness ; and concluded with offering her, as a last alternative, the retraction of her errors privately in the hands of his very particular friend the Bishop of S , whom he had commissioned to ascertain her final determination on the subject. There was not a single touch of tenderness to mitigate the harshness of the entire letter. Poor Emma's feel- ings were deeply wounded. Her uncle did all in his power to compose and encourage her under this severe trial ; but he saw she was not then susceptible of human consolation, and there- fore wisely endeavoured to excite her submission to the divine will, and to animate her courage to receive and embrace, for the love of God, this naked Cross dipped in gall. He took down the little crucifix, which hung by her bed-side, and placed it on her bieast; and then quietly retiring from the room, left her to seek consolation from Jesus alone. In the afternoon he returned, and though he found her very pale, and extremely exhausted, yet she seemed perfectly calm, and even cheerful. She conversed with him on the subject of the letter, and asked his advice, whether she should answer it or not: he advised her not to write, but to give her final answer to the Bishop, as her husband wished ; adding, that it was his opinion she would do well to make her interview with the Bishop as short and as de- cided as possible. The General then told her his wish : that she should go and reside with him at Weetwood, until such time as a reconciliation could be brought about. Emma looked up, and smiled at him gratefully through her tears, which flowed at the thoughts of leaving the home of which she had been so lately the happy mistress; but she agreed to accept his kind proposal as soon as she was well enough to travel. In the meantime, Harriet informed the butler and housekeeper of the expected intrusion, and of their master's orders, that the guests should be treated wi'.h distinction ; all was soon bustle, and grumble SV.TIIER OSWALD. 15JV and preparation ; Out Harriet could not resist, from time lo lime, venting her vexation with most sincere sympathy in Emma's room at all this useless trouble and commotion. In a day or two from this time, the expected party arrived I'or s. seven o'clock dinner, (or which, however, they were not ready till near eight, as Mrs. Boren should see that all the little Borens had a proper allowance of bread and milk, and were in train for going 'o bed, before she could make her appearance in the dining-room. The Bishop was a man about fiity, of a grave aspect, stately in his manners and pompous in his words. The dinner went off rather stillly, for Harriet was out of humour, and the General did not care to make himself agreeable. After dinner, as the Prelate was sipping his rosolio, he inquired it Mrs. Sei'ton would wish to see him that evening, adding, in the same sentence, that he thought the visit might, perhaps, be more convenient to the lady if made the next day. " You cannot possibly see my niece to-night, my Lord." said the General bluntly ; " she is. no doubt, by this time in bed, and I am just going up-stairs to wish her good-night." " I'm afraid we are rather late, indeed/' said Mrs. Boren care- lessly ; " the roads were in such a horrid state, and the Bishop does not like travelling earlv." The General le!t the room, and the Bishop, turning to Har- riet, said, " Miss Seftcn, could you accommodate us with a pack of cards 1 It is an invariable custom with myself and Mrs. Boren lo play every evening a game at picquet; it has been so ever since our union, and there is nothing like keeping up good old customs; besides, these littl\: mutual condescensions are of infinite use in preserving the amiable sociabilities of the mar- riage slate." Mrs. Boren simpered. Harriet rose, and slowly opening the drawer of a little cabi- net, produced cards and counters; she then rung forlhe servant t'> arrange the card-table, and settled herself to her work While the Bishop was shuffling the cards, he put sundry queries to Harriet concerning Mrs. Sei'lon's state of health, which she answered as laconically as was consistent with politeness. " Before seeing this unfortunate, misled lady," continued ihj Prelate, " I should wish to have your unbiassed opinion, Miss Sefton, as to any probability of success in Ihe delicate commis- sion consigned to my execuiion by my excellent and zealous friend. Selton ; you, my dear Madam, I am given to understand, are fully aware of its vital importance." " I understand, my Lord, thai my brother has commissioned you to receive Mrs, Sefton's answer as to whether she is will- 128 FATHER OSWALD. ing to renounce '.he Catholic religion, or not," answered Hanie: coolly. "Pieciscly so, Miss Sefton, precisely so," answered the Bishop ; " now do you think I have any reasonable chance ol success, or not V ''I think," said Harriet, looking up from her work, and shading her head. *you may save yourself much unnecessary trouble." The L">rd Bishop of S looked surprised. " Why so. Mad- am '! I d j not understand you," said he, laying down his cards. " To explain myself seriously then," continued Harriet, " 1 do not think that Mrs. Sefton will ever renounce the Catholic reli- gion, which she has embraced from a conscientious conviction that it is the only true one." "No, no, Ma'am," interrupted the Prelate, " Mrs. Sefton has not become a Catholic from any solid conviction of the truth ; that can never be ; but from a foolish perversion of a weak understanding. She has allowed herself to be led astray by tha specious sophistry of some crafty priest. If she were better informed of the errors of Popery, and the purity of the reformed religion, it might be otherwise. I fear Dr. Davison has been very negligent, or he would have opened her eyes before this to the evident illusions into which she has been led by deep, de- signing, and dangerous people." " I can assure you, my Lord Bishop," said Harriet, warmly, "your surmises are any thing but right. In the first place, I know Mrs Sefton is a well-inlormed woman, of sound judgment and acute penetration. She has read much, and is well instruc- ted in religious matters, so that I am persuaded she has not taken her resolution, and sacrificed all her earthly feelings, without the fullest conviction. In the next place, I know that Dr. Da- vison has taken immense pains and trouble in the matter, and has exerted all the strength of reason and authority to convince her of her errors, but in vain; Dr. Davison cannot be blamed, I assure you." Harriet said this with great feeling, anxious to exculpate her old Iriend. " Well, my dear Miss Sefton," subjoined the Bishop, "grant- ing for a moment what you say to be true, she has still been under tlie influence of her uncle, and, what is much worse, under the influence of a certain Jesuit, who lives, I understand, some- where in this neighbourhood, of the name of Oswald." " I know Mr. Oswald very well ; he is a very clever, pious, and charitable man," replied Harriet, <: and, I am sure, a very sincere and good Christian. General Russell, to be sure, is FATHER OSWALD. li) 1 * rather a rough antagonist, and I can assure you, Sir, it was very distressing for me to behold Dr Davison knocked about like a shuttlecock between two battledores; still, I am certain rf one thing, that no human influence made Emma become a Catholic, poor thing! and no one shall ever persuade me to the contrary." " You little know the wiles of Jesuitism. Madam," said ihr Bishop warmly, as he dealt the cards. " Take care, my love, or you will miss the deal," said Mrs. Boren. " I hope, Miss Sefton," continued the Bishop, " their sophistry has not undermined your faith." " No fear of that, my Lord," said Harriet, " for I do not think it matters much what opinions we hold, provided we live a good life. This, however, 1 ran assure your Lordship, that while Dr. Davison was speaking I was fulls persuaded he was in the right; then, when Mr. Oswald was speaking, it seemed to me he was also in the right. How could I judge between them 1 so methought it was test not to trouble myself about it." " Beware, Miss Sefton," replied the Bishop; "it is astonish- ing and most alarming, the incalculable damage done to the Church by the active fanaticism of those missionary Jesuits." " Yes," lisped out Mrs. Boren ; " they will not hesitate to com- mit any crime for the service of their cause." " You are pleased to be complimentary, my good lady," ex- claimed the General, who had, unperceived by her, at that mo- ment entered the room ; ' : if the poor Jesuits heard you, I fear you would make them proud; they are too apt to rejoice 'when they are counted worthy to suffer reproach for the name of Jesus.' "* " La !" said Mrs. Boren. " I thought, Sir, you had gone to wish Mrs. Sefton good-night." ' And I have done so, Ma'am," said the General, " and she sends her compliments, desiring me to express her wishes that you and the Bishop will ask Ibr whatever you want for your- selves and your family." '' I am sure we are infinitely obliged," said the lady. <; Point, quint, and quartorze !" exclaimed the Bishop, display- ing his cards. The clock struck eleven, and Harriet proposed to the travel- lers to retire, as they might probably be fatigued with their journey. The next morning the Bishop of S had an interview with Mrs. Sefton. He was not a little surprised at the calm and simple dignity wilh which she received him. The Bishop * Acts v. 41 12 130 FATHER OSWALD. jegan in a mild manner to expostulate with her on the infatua- Von, as lie called it, of plunging herself and family into an ibvss of misery, and of forcing her worthy husband to flee from her presence, and from his own house. " Ah ! Sir," said Mrs. Sefton with great meekness, but with evident emotion, as the big tear started from her eye, i; no one could eel the cruel pang more deeply than I do myself; yet the sufferings of this brief life, however acute, must weigh as a leather when placed in the balance with the interests of eternity." " Do not deceive yourself," said the Bishop with a kind and soothing tone of voice; "may not the interests of eternity be sadly com f >i umtsed by a wilful and obstinate disobedience to him, to whom you have bound yourself by your marriage vow V " My conscience,'' said Emma with meek firmness, " does not reproach me with disobedience in any one thine: that a husband may command. God knows my heart, how ready I am at this moment to render him in a tenfold degree, all the love, respect, and obedience that I have hitherto rendered him, if he would only permit me to enjoy the liberty of 'conscience which he him- self so loudly vindicates " "Perhaps, my dear Madam," insinuated the Bishop in the same bland manner, " you may mistake the true nature of liberty of conscience; a licentiousness of thought and conduct is often cloaked under that name. You must be aware that God himself, cannot sanction in man the profession of error and superstition." : ' That, Sir, is precisely the reason which determined me to renounce the errors of Protestantism, and to embrace the truth of Catholicism." " Madam," replied the Bishop with some degree of warmth, "'you misname things egregiously; what you call errors are pure Gospel truths ; what you deem truths, are the pernicious errors of Popery, rank idolatry, and frightful blasphemy ; such you would have found them, had you read your Bible with at- tention." " I have read the Bible, Sir, and studied it to the best o( my power, and the more I read, the more I am convinced of the truth of Catholicity." " You ought not, my dear Madam," said the Bishop more soothingly, '-to rely too much on your own judgment; ycur too vivid imagination may too easily lead you astray. On so im- portant a step you ought to have listened to the voice of- ycur legitimate pastors, who have been placed by the Holy Ghost to rule the Church of God." " For that very reason," said Emma, smiling somewhat archly, " 1 applied to the legitimate pastors of that Church, which FATHER OSWALD. 131 received the divine commission fifteen hundred years before the self-constituted pastors of Protestantism were heard of." The Bishop seeing he had no chance of making any impres- sion on her, rose to withdraw, when Mrs. Sefton declared to him in the most formal terms, her firm and final determination to live and die a Catholic. The Bishop, fully convinced he could do no more, was secretly as much desirous of shortening the inter- view as herself. Mrs. Sefton then begged him to interpose his pood otiices with her husband, to induce him to a reconciliation, but he gave her little hopes of succeeding, and thus the meet- ing ended. Alter a hot luncheon, the whole episcopal suite was again in progress towards the North, to the no small relief of Harriet and the General. This additional mortification retarded the convalescence of Emma: her natural yearnings towards her children and daily rnxiety about them, she endured with resignation to the will of Clod as a Christian, but she could not feel them mitigated as a i lother. She often and often tried to persuade Harriet to go 3 ml join her brother in Devonshire, and then she would add rith a sigh, " perhaps I might suffer less about my babies if iuey were under your eye ;" when Harriet would reply smiling, " You know, dearest Emma, I am not fond of children, bin if you would only make haste and get well, I don't know what I might do to please you." Harriet flattered herself, as people will flatter themselves through the medium of a little self-love, that if skf could s?e her brother, she might have influence enough with him to induce him to consent to a reconciliation with his wife. In the mean- while, Emma's health improved so much, that about the middle of March, she was able to bear the removal toWeetwood, to the great satisfaction of the General, who did all in his power to settle her there as comfortably and peaceably as circumsiances Mould permit ; her mind, loo, was much soothed and relieved by the kindness of Harriet, who. immediately on her removal, left Sefton Hall, and joined her brother and his little family at Eagleues; Cottage, in Devonshire. 132 FATHER OSWALD. CHAPTER XVI. " What stronger breast-plate than a heart untainted ? Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just ; And he but naked, though locked up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted." SKAKSPEAKK TIIR thread of our story now obliges us to follow the devious wanderings of Mr. Sefton, while we leave his forsaken and a/llicted wife to pursue the even tenour of her life under the hos- pitable roof of Weetwood. There she offered up daily at the throne of mercy her fervent supplications for the welfare of her husband and of her children ; many and many a time in the day and night would the ardent aspiration burst from her heart, that the Father of lights might in His mercy pour down on him and on them His first best gift the knowledge of the truth; that they might with one heart and one mind worship together at the same altar, and live again in holy peace and domestic happiness. The arrival of Harriet at Eaglenest Cottage, caused Mr. Sef- ton many painful and conflicting emotions, for he had not seen her since his separation from his wife ; and Harriet did not fail to speak her mind very freely to him with entire disapprobation of his conduct. However lie might be sensible of the truth of his sister's remarks, his pride prevented him from acknowledging himself in the wrong; he became every i la y more and more unhappy. In the secret of his inmost heart he wished to forgive Emma, but the thoughts that the world might attribute this lenity to weakness, and that his more rigid Protestant friends might not approve it, chilled the justice of his better feelings. He sternly resolved net to forgive her; but this resolution, instead of bringing him peace as he had hoped, made him positively miserable, and had an evident effect in producing moroseness in his manners, and irritation in his temper. Ho loved Emma even passionately, and the yearnings of his affection towards her frequently caused him excessive mental angubh and r^jret , in vain he struggled with his feelings; the more he tried to per- suade himself he was acting rightly, the more miserable he was; hi; could scarcely bear the sight of his children, and when the little prattlers named " Mamma," he would rush out of the house, and pace for hours along the sea-shore in the greatest agitation. One day he heard his friend the Bishop of S a.ution his intention of making a tour on the Continent, for the Lenctt of giving a travelling linish to his eldest son and daughti i : the for- mer a captain in the arm}', ou leave of absence. The Hca&ud- FATHER OSWALD. 133 denly struct Selton, that it would he an excellent step Id himself to take; that travelling would divert and improve his mind, and that his absence from England would be a still greater trial to Emma. Accordingly, a few days alter, he resolved to travel, and promised the Bishop to meet him in Italy ere the Autuno was over. Sefton persuaded Harriet to take charge of his babes, and in less than a fortnight from the time he had first thought on the suliject, he was sailing over the 'sunny sea,' between Dover and Calais. True it is, that his heart was sunk in a pro.ound melancholy, and that his conscience bitterly reproached him with abandoning his wife and family in that manner; but still me novelty of the scenes around him diverted his imagination in spite of himself. When he landed on the French shore, he was forcibly struck by the characteristic and national difference in the persons, manners, and dress of all around him. He, for sometime, stood gazing on the scenes that passed rapidly before him, in a sort of a dreaming philosophical study upon what might be the origin and cause of so striking a difference in the inhabitants of the Gallic and British shores, separated by so short a distance, until he was roused by the rueful I'ace of his valet, Luigi, who inquired if he would not like to go to ihe hotel. The poor valet had suffered from the sea, and seemed to think the most sensible and practical philosophy at that time would consist in the comfort to be drawn from a good basin of French soup. At the same moment Mr. Sefton was attacked by some half-dozen of dirty ragged French porters, all solicitous for the honour of his employment; some trying to attract his attention in one way, some in another; some stuffing cards into his hands, recommending the hotels by which they were employed, others declaring this way was the way Monsieur ought to go, and more that Monsieur ought to go the opposite way, that Monsieur would be sure to be imposed upon and ill-served. At length Luigi succeeded in obtaining -something like silence, and in making his master understand that his luggage had already been conveyed to Dessin's Hotel. With some difficulty, Sefton escaped from his zea.ous pursuers, and soon found himself in a quiet and elegant little apartment, with Monsieur De.?sin before him making his best bow, and offering every imaginable kind of civility. Sefton ordered a late dinner, and having done so, soon after left the hotel, to explore the curiosities and peculiari- ties of Calais; he amused himself with walking in all directions for a couple of hours, and then began to think of retracing his steps to the inn. As he passed through one of the quaint and narrow streets, he observed a low and antique-looking building, and heard the sounds of solemn music issue from its open door; 12* 134 FATHER OSWALD. Eclwar i's curiosity was excited, and lie entered. Ir was a chnrcft the Blessed Sacrament, was exposed on the high altar, incense was circling in clouds around it, and the last dying strains of the " Tantum Ergo" were falling from the lips of the assembled peasants. It was the first time Edward had been in a Catholic- church : he was surprised to see the religion he so thoroughly hated and despised, publicly professed and respected; yeF, in spite of his mingled sentiments of pride and dislike, he could not help being struck with the air of lender piety and respect: ul awe of all around him. When the religious rites were ended, he examined the church with curious eyes, and with not a lew mental aspirations of contempt at what he conceived supersti- tious objects. As he drew near the door, he observed a French lem'ale peasant about thirty, with a high Normandy cap and sunburnt cheeks, kneeling before an altnr over which was placed an antique marble image of the Blessed Virgin and her Divine Son, upon whicti the rich golden rays of the setting sun were casting their last effulgent beams through one of the gothic win- dows at the end of the church. The peasant was teaching her little girl to join her hands in prayer before the image of Jesus and Mary. Edward approached them, and, with his best French, politely asked in a low voice what holiday it was. " It is no holiday at all, Sir," answered the young woman, without raising her eyes. " No holiday ! then why is the church open V " In order that we may praise the good God, and pray to Him." " But what is all this ceremony I have just seen 7" " It is the evening benediction," said the peasant, raising her dark eyes to look at the interrogator, while an evanescent smile of pity, mingled with a little satire, dimpled round her lips as she added, " Monsieur must know that good Christians should pray to God on Mondays as well as on Sundays." Edward felt a little confused, he knew not why; he bowed slightly to his new acquaintance, and hastily left the church. "What a pity, Mamma," said the little French child io her mother " that so fine a gentleman does not know his Catechism better !" " Hush, my dear," replied the good countrywoman, "let us recommend him to our Lady," and they breathed a silent prayer to the mother of divine love for the salvation of the passing stranger. When Edward reached his hotel, he found the dinner ready, and a blazing wood fire in the dining-room: every thing was e-xceiient, even elegant, but he )^lt an indescribable melancholy FATHER OSWALD. 135 Emma au-i he had often anticipated the pleasures of a short ex- cui.r:n to ihe Continent: Edward was now enjoying that pleas- ure, lut Emma was not with him ; and why was not the loved one with him 1 He stifled the thought without answering it ; but memory was busy in recalling her gentle and lovely lorm, and imagination in suggesting what pleasure he should have had in the enjoyment of her bland arid lively conversation. With an involuntary sigh he took up the last French papers and seated himself by the fire. It was a time of great public interest in France, being early in the spring of 1830, when every thing portended an approaching crisis. Edward determined to ob- serve the progress of events, but not to mingle in politics, a resolution more easily made than kept by one of his ardent tem- perament. Happy for him had he adhered to this prudent re- solve, "car les occasions nenous rendent pas fragiles, maiselles font voir combien nous le sommcs.' 1 The Church clock struck eleven; Selton took his candle, and, ordering Luigi to call him at seven o'clock, he retired to rest. Very early the fol- lowing morning he was roused by the ringing of bells and the hum of many voices, and, opening (he window-shutter, was surprised to see that though it was still dusk, the street was thronged with people. He tried to sleep again, but could not, and. in the vexation of his spirit muttered to himself, " If such a nuisance existed in England, it would soon be indicted." At length Luivji appeared, and his master called out in no very pa- tient voice to know what holiday it was which occasioned such an early noise and bustle amongst the inhabitants 7 " It is no holiday, Sir," answered Luigi ; " the tells are only inging for the first masses." " What foolery !" exclaimed Edward indignantly. "But, Sir, the poor people like to hear mass before they go to their day's work," expostulated Luigi. " Pshaw!" bring some hot water, and get ready to start for Paris immediately; I have had quite enough of this vile place. 1 ' Luigi was an Italian and a Catholic, and he could not help giving a slight shrug of his shoulder at his master's burst of indignation against the good practice of hearing mass in the morning; however, he said nothing, but quietly withdrew, tt execute the orders he had just received. In a few more hours, he was travelling as fast as iour French horses could canter on the road to Paris. Soon after Mr. Sefton's arrival in the gay metropolis, whithei ne journeyed to drown his reflection, he settled himself in a com- fortable and elegant lodging in the Rue de la Paix, and the day alter, delivered the letters of introduction which he had brought 13$ FATHER OSWALD. for several French and English families of distinction. Amongst these letters there was one lor a Monsieur La Harpe, an eminent literary character, and a relation of the celebrated La Harpe, \vho figured in the Revolution of 1792, and afterwards atoned for his fanaticism and his errors to the best of his power by his exertions in the cause of religion and literature. With the gen- tleman to whom he presented his letter, Edward soon formed a considerable intimacy, and many of their mornings were spent together. Monsieur La Harpe accompanied him to the church- es and institutions the best worth seeing in Paris, to St. Denis, ana to Pere L:-i Chaise: still there was such a total dissimilari- ty in their opinions and sentiments on religion and politics, thai it prevented their acquaintance ripening into the more congenial feelings of friendship. La Harpe was strongly in favour of thf reigning sovereign, and he trembled for the fate of religion and his country in the political and infidel ferment which he knew to he silently but surely working for the destruction of the for- mer, under the pretext of regenerating the latter. Sefion laughed at his apprehensions, and spared not the most bitter sarcasms against those who wished to maintain what he conceived an erroneous system of religion : yet he was by principle a royal- ist and abhorred the idea of a revolution, unless effected quietly, and solely for the subversion of despotism and bigotry. Monsieur La Harpe was also frequently piqued ai.d annoyed wilit the unsparing and even harsh manner in which Mr. SeSton criticised and abused every thing relative to the Catholic reli- gion ; he was astonished, too, at his gross ignorance of the tenets customs, rites, and history of that religion, which, nevertheless hs seemed to have a peculiar zest in maligning. At first Ln Harpe endeavoured to explain things to him, and then Edward proceeded from objections to sheer abuse, which very much dis- gusted his new acquaintance, and thus their intercourse gradu- ally became less frequent; not, however, without the secre' regret of Edward, who, notwithstanding his errors an : . preju- dices, had a great admiration for talent wherever he met with it To drown recollection, Sefton next tried gaiety, and plungee into the dissipation of the highest circles, and all the heartless tr.lling of what is especially styled the " beau monde;" he se- dulously frequented assemblies, dinners, routs, and theatres; but a k:\v weeks of this life soon disgusted him : neither had the r.Hind of senseless gaiety in which he indulged, power to touch his heart or interest his understanding; he felt a void and wea- riness in everything. He next resolved to try literature : he frequented all the libraries, museums, and lectures, of any note, eitaer public or private ; but when the first ardour of pursuit FATHER OSWALD. 13* tvas over, and (he pleasure of novelty had ceased, he felt that he was more unhappy than ever, and farther from the peace of mind and repose of heart which he so much coveted, and wrack he had once enjoyed, but which lie now had lost perhaps for ever. " And why have I lost this treasure 1" he would some- times say to himself; "and why do I now find no interest in any thing 1" He durst not seek for the answer, though he knew that it lay in his inmost soul; for, as often as he turned his menta'. eye inwards, he was startled with the image of his in- jured, persecuted, and deserted wife. He strove in vain to banish the accusing thought ; but, night and day, it ever haunted him and embittered every hour of his life. CHAPTER XVII. The march of intcifcct ! What know we now Of mora 1 , or of thought and sentiment, Which was not known two thousand years ago T It is an empty hoast, a vain conceit Of folly, ignorance, and base intent " EGERTON BRYDGES. ONE day, as Sefton was passing along the boulevards, he ac- cidentally met with an old acquaintance: a young man of the name of Le Sage, the son of a French emigre, who had been born and educated in England. Edward had known him al Cambridge. They had not met for twelve years; Le Sngewas delighted to see again his old friend, and welcomed him with all the animated warmth of the French character. " Ah ! Sefton !" exclaimed he, " can it be you ! thrice welcome 10 Paris and to my roof." Sel'ton thanked him for his kindness; but a forced smile, be- lying the melancholy of his brow, betrayed to the quick eye ol liis friend some secret sorrow that lay rankling at his heart Le Sage perceived it, but prudently forbore to probe it too ao( p- ly, lest he might irritate it the more. He only asked Sefton il he had come alone. " CLuite alone," replied Edward rather shortly. " I hope nothing has occurred to render my friend unnapp) V jiquired Le Sage in a tone of interest. Sellon gave no answer, but sighed deeply. " My dear Sefton," continued Le Sage, " unburthen at once 138 FATHER OSWAI.JJ. the' sorrow of your heart into the bosom of a faithful friend, who .vould willingly bear a portion of your grief and do any tiling ia his power to serve you." Sefton became still more agitated. "Alas! perhaps cruel fate has robbed you of some dear ob- ject of your affections]" .Sefton almost groaned. " Come, cheer up, my friend ; we cannot reverse the decrees of fate; death is only an eternal repose, and your poor wi.e " '' Is not dead," exclaimed Selion with vehemence ; " would to God she had died before she brought disgrace upon herself and misery on me and my family!" "Oh ! oh!" replied Le Sage with a sarcastic smile, " I un demand you ; so your once incomparable wife, has unhappily proved herself as frail as any other fair one." Seflou's countenance burned with an honest blush : he was conscious that his own unguarded expression had cast an un- merited stain on Emma's name ; he bit his lip, he vainly tried to suppress his indignation, his eye kindled and flashed with emotion, his Irritated feelings bursting through all control. " My God !" exclaimed he, " what have you dared to insinu- ate! you wrong her, Sir, you wrong her grossly ; the withering breath of scandal has never tarnished her spotless name, and never shall, with impunity, in my presence." " Heavens and earth ! my dear Selton." said Le Sage, quite astonished at his agitation; "pardon me, I pray, if, unintention- allv. I have caused you any pain ; I can assure you I meant no offence. If I have offended by a rash suspicion, it was yourself w-ho led me into error; you spoke, of disgrace and misery on yourself and family ; what else could I infer 1 ?" "Any thing but that dreadful suspicion." "Sefton, be cairn; tell me the extent of your misfortune, for I am quite bewildered." " Sefton "s indignation now turned against himself; he blushed n.ore intensely at his own hasty expression. "To cut short every other suspicion," said he, more calmly, "she is become a Papist." " Le Sage could with difficulty restrain his laughter; but, seeing the emotions of his friend, he tried to soothe him "Come, come, Sefton, lay aside this morbid humour; banish mclancholv : if this be the only cause of your grief, all will soon be well. A short run in Paris will soon inspire you with wiser notions. We manage these matters much better in Fr, nee; we allow our wives and daughters to n.muse themselves with these bagatelles just as they please ; they must have somcthin? tf FATHER OSWALD 139 weupy their busy imaginations, and we do not fir.i 1 them less dutiful or less amiable because they are more devout. Why von know that I was born a Papist, and am generally esteemed one now." " Yes/' replied Sefton, "I know you are nominally a Papist, because Papists constitute the predominant sect of your country ; but thanks to your English education, you have imbibed more ra- tional ideas; you can neither believe nor practice the vile su- perstitions of that abominable system." "You would hardly believe it, Sefton, yet I actually went tc mass almost everyday as long as my poor mother lived: a more kind, a more indulgent mother, no child ever had. But while she, poor dear soul, was fumbling her beads, and mumbling her QVCS, I stood behind her, paying my fervent devotions to the more visible deities of flesh and blood, which flitted by me in aii me bloom of youth and loveliness. Since her death, I do noi Ihink I have seen the interior of a church ; in fact, no man of sense goes ,'o church now-a-days." Sexton felt deep disgust at the light manner with which Le S