The Storyteller ROBBED OF HIS FAITH

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXVI, Issue 8, 27 February 1908, Page 3

The Storyteller

ROBBED OF HIS FAITH

(Concluded from last week.)

' Well,' said Miss Wilson, who had been .watching his face. , ."Oh, madame,' he stammered^.' you are too . gooa ; it is too much honor.' , ' Not a bit of it,' .she replied ; ( it is a pleasure 1 am doing myself. 1 like children. Give me little Joseli, and you will be doing me a favor,' i 1 but shall we njver sea him again ?' .cried the guide the feelings of a father a^seiting themselves. /• uertainly, you shall,' replied Miss Wilson. ' When he is old enough ha shall come and see you, but he had better stay in England till he gets accustomed to his new surroundings.' ' lAh ! madame, I can never thank you • enough '. cried Louis. ' \ou are an angel, .and God will bless you ' Then he suddenly stopped, a hot flush overspreading his face. Devout Caiholic that be was, it struct him that he was leaving God utterly out of the q-estion. ' M'adume,' he said, in a- hesitating voice, ' ha\e you forgotten that Joseli is N a Catholic, and you. ' ' Oh, that does not matter,' exclaimed Miss Wilr son, hurriedly' ;i ' the child is far too young to understand anything about difference of creed. You could not expect me to bring him up as a Catholic, but I equally promise you 1 will not Ming him up as a Protestant. So long as he knows the fundamental doctrines of Christianity and says his prayers .he will t.afce no harm. When he is old enough he shall come and see jou and. decide for himself the religion he prefers. Say no more now, Louis,' she continued, .as the guide still hesitated, ' b,ut go and think it over. The whole question lies in a nutshell. I offer to make Joseli a> gentleman and leave him a good income when I die, whereas .you can give him nothing better than the common life of a cowboy or a precarious existence like your own.' , Louis Muller went bac.-cto the little village in the valley, his soul torn with conflicting emotions. What should he do ? Could he give up his Joseli, his mother's pet ? Could he part with him to go into a distant land among heretics 1 and unbelievers ? And ,yet Miss Wilson promised) that he should not be taught anything' contrary to the creed of his parents. How could he stand in his lad s li^ht when such a wonderful chance of getting on in the world presented itself ? No, he could not refuse such a splendid offer. The Holy Mother' of God would loo.c after his boy. But as he toiled up the mountain where his children lived, toiled up in silence and alone, with only the splashing of a waterfall or ! the tinKKng of a cowbell to break the intense repose, tlie awful grandeur of nature, the solemn stillness, the magnificence of the snow-covered Alps, behind' which the sun w a s slowly sinking, bathing them in .golden glory, spoke to his heart of the mighty presence of G-od and the nothingness of all created things compared with heaven and eternity. Suddenly he bethought him that he would go to the cure of Alpenberg, the goodi old cure who had been so many ye.irs in the village and knew all his flock' by name. He would be sure to advise him for the best. The priest listened in silence as Louis told his tab, a grave, expression on his face. ' My sen,' he said, when the guide had finished, : ( I do not. see why you have come to me. There could be but one answer to proposal. • You should have told the lady so at once. ' But, Father,' faltered Louis, ' I thought perhaps that you ' - • - - % 1 That I ? What ?' 1 That you might see seme way out of the ■difficulty. It is such a splendid offer. -How can I stand in the light of my son ?' 1 Are you mad, Louis Muller,' exclaimed the cure, that for one moment you dared to think that I would .be a party to such a transaction ? And a s for standing m the light of your son— that, is exactly what you would be doing, standing in his light, his eternals l'ifeht and exposing yourself to sin by robbing him of his faith Man alive . I cannot believe you are in your senses. I krow it is a splendid offer— most of the devil's offers are— bvit nothing, nothing could atone for the crime of fepnvinr your child of the means of learning his • reVV c-e -+ r T, nn o an( L e 2 d^? se^ ng Ms soul h ? al lowine; him to lire with Protestants in a non-Catholic land ? 1 But Father,' pleaded^Louis, ' there a re many Swiss

children in England, and they do not lose their faith, and Madame promises that Joseli shall not .be taught the Protestant religion ; besides,' he added sorrowfully, at times y/e are Mtierally .starving, and if I do not. - get more work than I have had lately Joseli may die of hunger and cold.' ' Better that he should die a thousand deaths than live such a life as you propose to give him,' exclaimed the angry priest. 'Be off to church anid down up<>n your .knees ; beg pardon of God for even entertaining such a thought. Go and tell the English lady that you. cannot give up your child ; that 1, yoik priest, torbid your doing so. She can come to me if- she likes, but 1 will never, never consent.' Louis Muller did as the cure bade him— went into the church to lay his troubles before God. But his' repentance .was only a half-hearted one. All night long he tossed and turned upon his humble bed, and when, in the morning, he went down t 0 the hotel, it was , with the feeling that the cure had been too hard upon himi. Miss [Wilson saw by his countenance that something was the matter. ' Well, Louis,,' she said,- ' you have come quickly to your decision. What is it to be, am I to have Joseii or not ?' 'It is no, madame,' faltered Louis. ' The good cure will not permit me to give you my child. We are grateful, very grateful, but Joseli is Catholic, and' Catholic must remain.' A hot flush of vexation passed over the lady's face. ' Did I not tell you,' she cried, ' th a t I would not interfere with Joseli's religion ; that when he is older he shall come back to you and decide for himself which form of worship he prtfers ? Why need you have told the priest anything about it ? I never knew such people as you Catholics are, always running off to your priests. Of course, he would say no ; most likely he is a Jesuit. But will he keep Joseli ? Tell me that. I'm ashamed of you, Louis. I thought you were man enough to decide what you would do with your child without asking anyone's permission. Surely yo-Jr. ' boy belongs to you, andi here you are going to throw all his future prospects away at the word of a fanatical old man who neither will nor can do anything for him himself.' i " ■ ' Ah, madame,' cried ths guide, ' you do not know how precious our faith is to us mountaineers. It would Mil me if Joseli lost his faith through any fault of ,-i '?£ 'y ould n ot lose It, 1 repeated Miss Wilson, testo'ihrnw -fI OU ,"?!,* yOUr ° Wll COUl ' Se - I£ SrOU5 r O U lik « to ihiow the child's future away through some silly scruple of your own, I cannot help it. I^can fini plen^ t i f ? f- er chlklren to adopt if I wish to do so, but i. liked little Joseli and would have done my best by Miss Wilson w a s more pained and vexed than she cared to show. She had set her heart on having the llie j elow > and ;W; Wa s extremely disappointed at theresult ( at her negotiations. 'If madame wouM only go to Ihe cure,'' faltered Louis he would explain mudi better th a n I can ' ww > i 6i 6 - CCUe^ c I- * go to the l iriest ? N o, certainly not, exclaimed Muss Wilson, indignantly. <My af.vi+LffV 0 siness . of his.h ' is . and I can manage them ?rS X C ° nSl I KIn S him - Then, as the guide still linexcursSn tn S mUe T dl '- 1 . not think J shall #> for an exclusion to-day Louis. I have some little matters to* LL a r l\ bUt }' n dvUe "» and s <* the children this :no?hTday an or y t°w UU o '^ * h ™ '<* And Louis Muller did thiox'c it over, and the devil prevailed. Miss Wilson's handsome offer was too much ihl %,-i£° Or . maiX) ' distract^ d as he was at the sight of the children s poverty and wretchedness ; .and tbe evth. V^fnr? S £M eft i° l " En?iland he 1 Joseli down to the Victoria Hall and placed him in her care pmi? 1 ! 8 T On ke ? t her word ' she nwer suffered the +S t> + 6 + arn , anything about either the Catholic or SdthS lo^? religion, appointed the prayers -she wished him to say, and never permitted him 'to pro inside a church or chapel. ' As the boy grew older she got him first a governess an-d then a tutor. Both of them carefully complied with her instructions. As far as Joseli was concerned, his life was a very happy one, idolizing his benefactress as he did. He could not bear to be separated from her side, and he " soon forgot all about the - father and brothers and sisters he had left behind in Switzerland, or if he remembered at all it was only as a dream. Miss Wilson never returned to Interlaken again, but corresponded frequently with Louis Muller, telling him everything that she thought would interest, him about

the boy and sending presents of money for the other children. When Joseli was old enough to understand she told him the whole truth about his parentage, making him write to his father himself, describing (what was really true) the beautiful home that' he had in England, and his love for her whom he called his English mother. As for the unfortunate Lou r xS, his life was a burden to him, for though he tried to brave out what he had done and found many worldly companions who declared they would have acted exactly the same under similar circumstances, his conscience was never at rest. Tha good cure, angry and horrified beyond description, refused to hear his confessions unless he sent for Joselli to come back. His former friends, She inhabitants of the hamlet in which he resided, looked at him askance, and the, image of his little Joseli haunted him day and night. At last he felt he could bear the strain no longer, and when the boy was about 15 he wrote and told .Miss Wilson that, sorry as he was to distress her, he must have his son home ; he could not exist with- . out him. Faithful to her promise, »Miss Wilson made no objection, but sent Joseli back to Switzerland immediately, only stipulating that if at the end of three months the boy wished to return to her, he should be allowed to do so. There was great excitement in the village when Joseli Muller, tall and fair, with the blue eyes and open face of a Swiss and the unmistakable manners of a gentleman, arrived among them 1 . He gazed, with astonishment at the humble while cottage where his father lived, the poverty of the interior, and the rough and boisterous! bearing of his toothers and sisters, who crowded round him with loving words of welcome. His father clasped him in lijs arms, tears chasing each other down his cheeks ; and the boy tried to resipond to his caress, but he had forgotten all about his family, did not even Know their names, and the sensitive youth, reared in the refinement of a well-ap-pointed house and well-bred society, shrank from contact with such relations and such a -home. It was still worse when his father spoke to him of his faith , that had utterly faded from his mind; he simply knew nothing about it ; nor did he express the slightest wish to know ; he went to church when his father asked him to do so, but showed nothing but a calm indifference to all that he heard and saw there, and asked no questions as to the meaning of what he saw. It was a cuiious form of worship, he said, when questioned on the subject, and he did not think he should care to adopt it. ' I could never be a Catholic,' he said. ' I shall be the same religion as my adopted mother, the only mother I .have ever known. 1 would not pain her for the world.' All Ms thoughts were of her. In fact, the only remembrance he retained of Switzerland was a dim. recol- ' lection of those snow-clad mountains an«d Miss Wilson taking him Into the meadows t.o gather flowers and to see the cows. The rest was a blank. To do the lad justice, he never refused to listen to t/he instructions given him by the earnest young priest. He went to Mass and Benediction, and even tried to" learn some of the prayers and hymns, not with the intention of ever saying them, but only to please Father Bernard. But- the result was the same —Father Bernard, like the good cure, was ,in despair, and when the three months expired, and Joseli expressed his determination of returning; to England, and of " adopting the faith of Ms English friend, it was with a sad sinking of the heart that he saw him' depart. ' Come and see us again some day, Joseli,' he s a id, the evening before the boy left! 'We shall never forget you before the altar of the Most High.' ' Indeed, I will, Father Bernard,' replied Joseli, warmly, ' and I shall never forget you, and when I'm a man and can do as I like, I shall come and stay up here in the mountains, where we can go for walks tqgeiher agaJn.' He spoke with the eager irwpetuousness of youth-, but the young priest looked at him wistfully as he replied: 'May God, grant it, Joseli. I will say a.n extra rrayer every day to our Lady for that Intention, and I want you to wear this for my sake,' he added tenderly, as he threw around the lad's neck a little cord he always wore 'himself, to which was attached a silver miraculous medal. Joseli looked at it in silence. ' You will wear it, Joseli, promise me ? ' repeated the priest. 1 Yes, Father,' replied Joseli, ' I promise you. 1 will attach it to my watch chain as a sort of charm. It will serve to remind me of the happy time I have spent with you, though indeed I needed no remSnder.' Father Bernard still regarded boy wistfully and

sadly. He was a priest, and he knew human nature better than the boy. ' Well, God knows best,', he said, after a pause, 'and we will leave the future in His holy hands.' - There were great rejoicings at 'Folkstone when Joseli Muller, after a short stoppage at Alpenberg to wish his father and famdly good-bye, returned to Miss Wilson, declaring that he would never go' to Switzerland without her again, and announced his intention of embracing the same faith as herself. The years sped on, and "in due time Joseli Muller was called to the Bar and settled down in the West End of London in a large and~ well-appointed house of his own, but contrary to the expectations of all his friends, he never married. The g a y and fashionable young collegian developed into the grave and studious lawyer, demoted to his profession, and to his books. Gradually he grew silent and dreamy, caring for nothing but reading and mixing but little in society, and that only when his position or his profession seemed to demand it from him. People said that it was the loss of his adopted mother that had wrought this change ; but such was not the case, for though he mourned much for the kind woman who had raised him from a life of poverty and ignorance to the estate of a gentleman, and who had acted for the best according to her lights, his present course .of reading apd his insight into human nature caused him to view things in a far different light to what he had done in his impetuous youth. A great wave of Catholicity had swept over 'England, and the minds of all seriously thinking men were agitated with the great problem of the day. Among Joseli's friends he numbered many good and fervent Anglicans, and sometimes he wondered if, after all, the religion that his father professed might not be the true one ; and then he would look at his little charm and wonder why he had ever thought at wrong to pay deference to the Mother of his Saviour. Of one thing at least he was certain.— he had neither obeyed the laws of God or man by deserting his now agedjather as he had done, by never maMng any provision for him out of the abundance with which God had blessed him. So it came to pass that one autumn he made up his mind to go to Interlafcen and place his family in a more comfortable position before he returned again to England. He would not have that reproach on his conscience any longer. But, alas ! when he reached Alpenberg he found llut his father was dead. He had died of a broken heart, brought on by f,rief for the loss of his child and remorse for the sin of which he had been guilty in helping, to rob him of his faith. Joseli's brothers and sisters, too, were all dispersed; some were married and others had left Alpenberg for a different part of Switzerland. The Rood old cure also had gone to 1 his reward. So Joseli, after depositing a large sum of money in the hands of the parish priest to be held in trust for any survivors of the Muller family whom he anight come across, went higher up the> mountains to the -village where Father Bernard lived. To his 1 delight he found the priest at home, and was welcomed with every sign of pleasure and genuine gratification. The two friends were more on an equality now so far as age was concerned, for Joseli was thirty-five, and his love of reading and studious habits rendered him a still more agreeable companion to the erudite and holy priest, whose former kindness he was able to return by supplying hdm with ample means for his poor. So the old sweet life amidst the eternal hills went on as it had done some twenty years before, and the twain boated and fished and climbed up the rugged mountain sides, enjoying the splendid panoramas and the pure fresh air almost as nuch as they had done in the days of their youth. •So you still wear the little charm, I see,' said Father Bernard one evening., pointing as. he sipofoe to the miraculous medal suspended ' from Joseli's watcß-oh-aiin. ' Yes ; it has brought me here,' replied Joseli, slowly and gravely ; and then., to Father Bernard's astonishment, he raised it to) his lips. The good priest's heart bounded with delight, but he appeared not to notice the circumstance. 1 I always felt you would come back one day, Joseli,' he said, ' though yon never wrote, and I had no clue to your whereabouts.' ' You must have thoupht me an awful brute,' re- - -<r>lied Joseli, wilh a touch of Ms old impetuous manner ; 'but although lam a man now, it is only lately, since the death of mv kind bPnefactress, IJiat I have been able to do as I likori. Too late, alas ! to be of any use to my poor old father.' 1 Too late to see him alive,' responded the priest, c but not too late to beln him in the world where_ he has pone. Masses nncl alms will do much 'to relieve his soul from purgatory, Joseli.'

1 Alms you shall certainly have, and you can ' say as many Masses as you like, Father Bernard,' replied the young barrister, ' but I think my father must have suffered enough purgatory on earth on my account to. atone for what 1 he, had done.' • I am inclined to think the same,' said Father Bernard kindly"; ' but the justice of God must be appeased, either in this world or the next ; and the mere fact? of his dying without ever seeing you again -shows how God punishes sin even here below.' IMy poor father ! ' said Joseli, with a deep.-4rawn sigh— and then the subject dropped. Joseli's knowledge of the world and literary hiabits had given him a -larger and broader view of Christian philosophy, and he' was able to discuss the matter: calmly and quietly with Father Bernard, asking questions and receiving answers with a becomUng reverence' that greatly pleased the priest. Still Joseli 'gave no sign of what his thoughts really were till one or two days before his intended departure ihe came into Father, Bernard's study, and, kneeling down by his "side, asfced him to hear his confession. c God be thanked,' was all that Father Bernard could say ; and they went? silently together into the little church— -tears in both their eyes. When they came out " again the sum -was just sinking behind the lofty Alps, and the snow-clad mountains were bathed in a halo of crimson and gold. . '\LIOOk,Joseli, look! ' cried the priest."" ' What are all the sights of the earth compared to that ? ' • 1 Nothing,' murmured Joseli, bending his (head in ireverenee; to God. Then, recovering himself ; ' I think I will go for a walk up the mountain,' he said, v ' where I can watch the sunset better. I want to be alone and think. - Don't wait supper for me, Father,' 1 he added. ' Oh, yes, I shall,' replied Father Bernard, ':and mind where you £,o ; there have been several nasty landslips lately, and the mountain paths are rather, treacherous.' ' Don't be afraid ; I think I know every inch of the way as well as you do now,' said Joseli, with_a smile ; ' biut if you insist on waiting I will come back as soon as I can.' It was long past supper time, yet Joseli did not" make his appearance, and as the shades of evening were creeping down the mountain side, filling the valleys with mist, Father Bernard grew alarmed. He-sent for some men with dogs and lanterns, and bade therm go and meet the young Englishman, who might have -missed his way. It was some hours before they came back, and when they did so they bore between them a litter on which lay the body of Joseli Muller. They had found him at the" bottom of a steep precipice, and 'death must have Vbeen instantaneous, for he was lying quite peacefully on. the soft white snow, a smile on Ms lips and his hands clasping the little miraculous medal that he called his chamr. They buried him in the little cemetery at Alpenberg, close to the graves of his father and mother ; and on the cross that was his headstone they carved' the words : ' This my son was dead ..and is alive agfein : was lost and is found.'—' Enclish Messenger.'