tHE VOICE OF FAITH

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXVII, Issue 1, 7 January 1909, Page 5

tHE VOICE OF FAITH

Pere Julien glanced thoughtfully over his congregation ; every one was present, from Baoul Debalon, his nextdoor, neighbor, to Pierre, Rouge and his parents, whose rice farm was fully three miles across the prairie. The bright weather had brought them all out," some on foot, some, in rude carts and dilapidated buggies; others on little wild Creole ponies, for which the countryside is famous. Mere Guimauve, in her flowing sacque and snowy sun-bonnet, dozed peacefully in her place; Brigitte, little Jean's pretty wife, was hushing her baby softly, and Pierre Lasson, with his head on his hand, stared between his fingers at Joyeuse, the blacksmith's daughter, who aifected not to see him." ' The priest's glance rested on " them tenderly. ■ He ■ loved them all; they were very dear to him. He knew their weaknesses (for they were, but human), , but he also • knew, their underlying goodness and' worth. , , 'My children,' he said, 'it distresses me very much to tell you that unless something can .be done, unless the money can be raised to pay the 200-dollar mortgage on our church, we shall have to appeal to -outside assistance. Now, it "has always been our pride to be self-supporting, and it hurts me that at this late hour we need ask - for help, readily as it will be given. How much better if we can bear our burdens alone.' A ripple went over the congregation. AdOjlph Rimon,. the richest man in Fosseville, stared ostentatiously through the window, determined not *to have it thought "that the demand was especially directed to him, and Madame Guimauve, stricken with sudden fear, clutched nervously at the handkerchief that held her little savings. ' Now, my friends,' continued the p.riest, aware of their uneasiness, ' I do not mean to ask you to 'give anything more ; you have been very liberal, and I ' am not one to ride the willing horse to death, but we' must have the money before next month. The man , who holds the note has said it. ' Therefore, I propose to choose Sunday week" as a day of special- prayer. I shall set it apart for that purpose. The good Lord, who knows our needs, will not fail us. If we ask \uth faith it will be given" unto us.' The congregation slowly dispersed.- They 'were simple people with 'an abiding faith in the efficacy of prayer, but hitherto they had asked for other things, < for rain, for bright weather, for the recovery of a sick person, never for actual -money. With all their confidence, in Pere Julien they felt a little doubtful as to the result of his^appeal. Hiram Granger, the big oil man whose wells and derricks lay 1 to the west of Fosseville, • had strayed into the church that morning, and his expression • during Pere - Julien's address would have interested a student of human nature. Wonder, . contempt, admiration in turn swept across his face. That any sane' person could believe- as the priest did puzzled him greatly. He looked from the pastor to the people, and in some of the sun-browned, listening faces saw' the same faith "reflected that illumined Pere Julien's countenance, but on others he read the doubt that had "full possession of- his own soul. When he stepped out into the\ sunlight he found him,self thinking of ' the little white on the hillside where he had worshipped as a boy. He saw again 'the grey-haired preacher, the handful o^ earnest followers. Ho his mother, hollow-cheeked and thin; his father, worn with much toil. Yet they had been happy, these two; they ' had .loved each other and found contentment amidst surroundings cruelly hard to the man remembering. But, after all, they had known, happiness. Money, the loadstone of the present generation; had not been so all-powerfu) then ? ,and perhaps- 1 —

' Bon jour, monsieur,' said a voice in his ear. 'I am glad to see you,' and Pere Julien held out a ■ welcoming' hand. ' I am glad to be here,' replied Granger. ■ ' I shall come again.' ..','" ! 'Whenever you like, monsieur. I suppose' — tactfully . — ' you are veVy busy over .at the wells ? ' '.Yes, we are expecting some of our big men down. They'll stop for a day in New Orleans, then come out here to see how the work is , progressing.' 'They will- be -pleased, I know. Ah, Mme. Guimauve, how has the rheumatism "been treating you? And you, little Jean and Brigitte — no need to ask how you are. Pierre, when shall we hear the bells ring for you ? ' Granger rode slowly home, his mind shaken with unusual thoughts. The morning's experience and the unexpected voice of faith- in an age given over to scepticsm had set his memory to wandering tc other days. The hard i life of the last twenty years had covered Over his natu;c with a layer of ' modern materialism, but underneath was the eager boy who had prayed at his mother's knee in far- . off <New England. Sunday morning, .the day of prayer appointed by Pere Julien, dawned bright and clear. The backbone of tho winter was broken, so every one said. Pierre Rouge and his father had been ploughing" all the week ; Mme. Guimauve was setting out her tomato _ plants, and Joyeuse came into the church with a spray of peach blossoms <>t her white throat. Meanwhile, over at the oil fields the Northern capital- . ists Av-ere smoking on the rude hotel piazza, after disposing of a moderately good breakfast. They were -in high spirits, their visit having proved a success — %he oil wells had turned out far better than they had anticipated, and the promise of a large return for their outlay had put them ini;o an excellent humor. Granger's stories, too, of '..he simple Acadian people., with their odd mixture of shrewdness and simplicity, interested them greatly. It was a phase of life with which " they were unfamiliar. 'By George ! ' cried, old Colonel Denham, his red f ace, shining with amusement, ' you almost make us see thos.i people. I verily believe I'd recognise Mme. Guimauve if I saw her.' ' And Pere Julien,' chimed in little Porter. ' Can't you just see him in his> black gown and broad-brimmed hat, with his white hair streaming in the wind ? ' ' ' Would you like to meet him ? ' asked Granger. ' He's _ really a first-rate old chap. None of your sanctimonious kind, pulling a long face and teaching his flock that they're in danger of eternal damnation, but a cheery-sou led, genial old fellow, who loves his joke and lives in peace and charity with all men.' , " - ' Where does he hang out ? ' asked Ridgeley, sending :.. puff of smoke over the railing. ' Anywhere near here ?' ' A couple of miles. Tell yo.u what, Jim ' (as if the idea had just occurred to > him, though in reality he ha-1 been gradually leading up to it), ' suppose we drive over „ to Fosseville, drop in at chapel for a few minutes, -and, after lunching at the hotel, take the train for New Orleans?' ' Look here, Granger,' said the youngest member • f the party, a man of -millions, whom self-indulgence had made languid, aren't you rather letting us in for some thing? Doesn't seem to me a country priest can offer us very much in the way of entertainment.' ' Oh, let's go,' said the Colonel,' rising. 'It will be something to tell Helen.' The youngest member ofthe party made no further objection. Jf there was one person on earth "whose good opinion he valued, it was the Colonel's daughter; and if a visit to Pere Julian could even remotely interest" her, why, decidedly, it was worth the exertion. Service was nearly over Avhen the party of well-dressed Northerners, led by Hiram Granger, filed solemnly do»vn the aisle. The congregation would have been more than human not to have shown interest, and consequently stared at the newcomers with, a frank curiosity in no way bordering on ludeness. Colonel Denham's white hair and handsome old faro aroused their admiration, but it was the youngest member of the party, with his curly hair and listless blue eyes, upon whom the attention focussed.' Mere Guimauve, noting his e>pression, wondered compassionately if he were ill, resolving privately if she got the chance to suggest his drinking each morning upon rising a cortain favorite tisane of hers, made from fragrant herbs growing upon the prarie. Brigittc, clasping her baby closer, the day when he would be old enough to go out' into the world alone, and" Joyeuse, peeping over Pierre's broad shoulder, marvelled greatly as the stranger's moody glance passed her by in an abstraction too profound to note her fresh young beauty.

' The time has come, my children, ' said the priest, coming to the edge of tlie chancel, ' for that earnest prayer, that full 1 unburdening of the soul of which I spoke to you last week. Sincere uplifting prayer, inspired by faith in a merciful and understanding Creator, and springing from the 'depths of our hearts, .cannot fail of its purpose. Two hundred dollars is all we need to pay off our church debt, a small sum comparatively, and J feel sure that if we ask for it reverently and devoutly, with a "trusting belief in God's never-failing tenderness, we shall not ask in vain. To youc knees, beloved.' ■> One- two, three minutes passed. Colonel Denham bent awkwardly forward, chewed his moustache - fiercely, bewildered in the sudden turn in affairs. Little Porter, down on.vhis knees, repeated the Lord's Prayer earnestly. Ridgeley, half amused- and half dismayed by his "own emotion, buried his face in his- hands, - following Granger's' example, and the youngest member of the party, after one penetrating glance into the priest's rapt face, and impressed by the sincerity of all about him, leaned his .arms on the back of the bench and, with ' downbent headj, prayed the first prayer that had crossed his lips for months. . l ' Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner. Make me- worthy of her love ! ' Slowly the priest arose, the congregation, after a moment's doubt, rising also. The r choir began a solemn chant, Pere Julien lifted lis hands in benediction, and the service was over. ' I say,' whispered Colonel Denham, "catching at Granger's' arm,-f don't they take, up' a collection here?" I'd like 1 to -give a trifle, just to show my goodwill, don't you know.' 'Just what I was about to say,' murmured Porter, while Ridgely's fat hand strayed to his breast pocket. ' There you are,' said the youngest member of the party, pointing to a box on the wall, with ' For the church' painted on it. 'Let's wait' till the crowd gets out.' A few minutes later Pere Julien joined them, in his pretty garden, whither Granger had conducted his party. The old man's face vas radiant; his eyes shone with a joy so pure that the other men were gratified to remember tha*) they had undoubtedly inspired it. ' Gentlemen,' he cried/ stretching out his hands, ' how can^ I thank you, how can I express my gratitude for the generous' gifts that /will enable us to pay our debts?' - _ ' It wa' a privilege,' muimiii-ed ths Colonel , reddening . ' Granger had been telling us of your "work "among the poor.' k . ' And of your kindness to all strangers as' well -a friends,' added Ridgely. . ( Ah, the admirable Granger i ' exclaimed Pere Julien. - 'He knew .we meant to pray for aid to-day; he heard ma give out the notice last Sunday. Monsieur, I shall not soon forget you.' The others turned and looked at .Granger. reflectively, It began to dawn on them their visit had not been as acci-dental-as they thought, that (a3 the youngest member ,of the party had- expressed it) they had ' rather been let in for v something.' But while as business men they, resentei .;the trick, in the face of the old priest's delight they found . it was impossible to. be angry with Granger. ' How .can I ever thank you?' repeated Pere Julien. ' We are very poor here, and it seemed at one time as if we could not pay our debt, but with faith one can move mountains.' _ " The youngest membqr of the party moved a few steps apart. He was stroking the leaves of a crimson rose caressingly, a rose whose perfume reminded him of the girl he loved, ~ the girl who ' loved him, but had sent him from her until he should be man enough to cease idling and make something of Ms life. ' Take it,' said Pere Julien, breaking the rose impulsively,' ' and tell me, my son, how I may 'repay you «\>r what you and your friends have done for us to-day ? ' c Pray that I may have my heart's desire,' he answered. ' It seems far enough from me now.' 'And the mortgage money?' said the priest smiling. 'This morning you 'would surely have said we stood no chance of raising it, and voilal' He touched his breast significantly. - . - ; You\were more deserving than I, Father.' 'Courage,' said Pere Julien. 'If it be a -woman's love, be worthy of her ; have faith ' in her understanding and all will come welt ' And many .months later, when by patience and courage he had won his heart's desire, the youngest member of the party, remembering Pere Julien's prophecy, sent him -, special invitation to the wedding. The priest acknowledged tlie courtesy by the gift of au Acadian basket filled with orange blossoms. ,On the bit of paper accompanying it he had written in his small, cramped writing: "i ' Said I not to have faith? God bless you, my children.' — Neio Orleans Picayune.

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