THE LAST OF HIS RACE.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXI, Issue 22, 28 September 1894, Page 11

THE LAST OF HIS RACE.

(From an Exchange.)

THE Prior of the monastery of S in Austria entered his ctll efter the eveniDg office. Tired from a painful jourDey, he seated himself before taking his night's rest. It was in the middle of the September vacation. The religious had assisted in the morning at the funeral obsequies of a student of the college, who died at the age of fifteen years. The parents of the deceased wished that the Prior would pronounce the funeral sermon from the pnlpit, according to cnstorri) when a member of their countal house descended to the tomb. The Boperior did not refuse, bathe reflected again, that the preparation of the little discourse would be no easy matter, since for no'hing in the world would the saintly man consent to wound the truth. And what good had he to'say of the youth ? What virtues had he practised ? Descended from a powerful family, the future inheritor of high titles, the possessor of landed property to which title b w«re attached, this only son was adored by his parents, flattered by bis numerous vassals, and servitors, always the servants of his orders.

The young man was endowed with physical attractive advantages, handsome, gracious, gentlemanly in his manners ; but unfortunately, he waß vain, egotistical, very ignorant, and very insubmißsive. It was even this disobedience which had brought one so young to the tomb. The Prior was told that on returning from a fishing party, Luitpold had caught cold.

The most celebrated doctors of Vienna, summoned in all haste, had tranquillised the parents on the issue of the malady, in recommending, however, the young count to keep from the evening air for some days.

In spite of the advice of the learned faculty, the stuie t had stolen out on the following night, before midoigh', to run to the forest, a game-keeper having assured ham that the moun'aia cock would utter his mysteriouß crow. And, indeed, the great grouße had made his appearance— an unusual ihing in September. Luitpold had heard the fantastic note, and saw shining in the clear moonlight the sumptuous plumage ; but Luitpold returned to the chateau shivering, and eight hours afterwards was no more, The cbroniole of th» seigneurial village thus narrated it, "Our poor young count,' groaned the peasan'B, dnring bis ago iy, "in his delirium he spoke but of the heath cocks, the roebucks, the stagg and the hazelbens. Alas I it is not for him to return to bis forests. It is not his rifle tha 1 will bring down the great grout-e, the bird of misfortune.'

Before pronouncing the funeral services the Prior inquired about the last moments of the deceased. "Had he received the last Sacraments T "

11 Certainly, rev sir," answered the bailiff, the manager of the goods of the noble house. " Madame, the Countess, has not forgotten this point of perfect propriety"

But tht chamberlain acknowledged, very low, "that the priest had not been called to the bedside of the dying bat a quarter of mn hour before the death, and if the young master had received the Holy Communion,^ said he in a still lower voice, " be could not have received it but a few moments before his entry into eternity."

" And did he at least know that be was going to was going to die T " questioned the Prior of the young man. •♦ No, rev Bir ; Madame, the Countess, has not allowed it to be mentioned to him, She herself told the Core of the Tillage, sent for at the last moment. that Mr Luitpold, student at the abbey of S —-.was very pious ; )\\ will be enongh to insinuate to him delicately, added she, that it would be well for him to confess and communicate, the desire of his mother being, that be take part, after to-morrow, in a coursing matob, in the open country of the conntal demesne." " Especially," said the chamberlain, with moch repetition, " Madame, the Countess, bad not forgotten to speak in the sense indicated, ' lest my ton should be frightened.' " " Alai I Alas I Alas I " groaned the religious, wbo listened nith ftttention a

'• For the peasant and the game-keepers " continued the chamberlain, "the death of the young master will be a lobs."

" Howfia that ? " demaded tht Prior, desirous of collecting information for hia discourse.

" Well, rev fathee, the deceased showed himself liberal in the parties of pleasure. The count freely gave some florins ; he resompensed the guard who pointed out a nest of songsters, or a covey of patridges, and he did not forget to give a gratification to him who bronght either bu'terflies for his collection, or plants for his herbary, or a nightingale for his aviary. Yes 1 my master always rewarded little services I "

Th« Prior profited by information drawn fram so sure a source, In the funeral aration. he dwelt at length on the sorrow of the parents, he spoke of the instincts of beneficence, of the flower of generosity budding in the heart of the son that they lamented, which generosity, well cultivated, would, later, be changed into the beautiful fruits of charity, and so forth.

The Superior of the abbey then returned to his cell in the evening, and he thought of the munificence displayed at the funeral of the yonng count, and blbo a little of the fnneral oration delivered.

Surely 1 it was not too bad, thought he to himself, with a secret complaisance. I have acquitted myself of it ; it was, however, difficult, with such scant material.

But perceiving this vapour of vanity arising he hastened to check it, and he sighed profoundly. A vague sadness overwhelmed his heart. Even during the divine service, he had felt the same sadness, and now, behold it came to oppress him again,

Suddenly terrible thoughts about the eternal destiny of Lnitpold barrassed nis spirit. Where is that soul t the Prior asked himself with anguish. O Lord, have pity, have for it I And, pressed down under a stroke of undefiaable inquietude, the abbe, forgetting to take the rest he stood so much in need of, want on his knees, and commenced to say the Bosary. At that moment a rap was heard on the door of his cell. A rap, sharp and rude.

(Jlo be concluded )