THOSE ANGEL FACES

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XLIV, Issue 1, 4 January 1917, Page 5

THOSE ANGEL FACES

'Candidly, the world is pessimistic, and the joy of living has developed into a contempt of existence, which is demonstrated in current reviews,[where long articles are printed arguing the necessity of a change. The cold hand of this century's philosophy points to the grave as the final answer.' . i ,•/■// . _. Such were the reflections /young" Henri Du Bois as he looked from his window on; Paris:one - winter morning. The storm of the previous day had ceased, and now the snow-clad city seemed to wear a silver mantle as it lay in the 'light of the rising sun. ; But there was no joy in his heart as he gazed on this scene of beauty; For years pleasure had left him and happiness appeared but as a dream 7 from which he had awakened. His was a nature essentially reflectivehe lived from the interior. ' not the exterior; therefore he had few friends. Once he had * rejoiced, in ; all nature's 'phases: in -"the J shining of the stars, the swaying wave, the mystery of sunset and ; the wonder of ■ dawn. - From the beauty of the exterior world his : whole heart rose in adoration to the Eternal c Beauty of which

all he saw was but a feeble reflection.- His life was indeed'Qn'act'of love towards God the Creator, revealed in the mystery of His creation, towards the' same God hidden!inutile testament ■of His 'love' It was perhaps . at Benediction that his soul was most suffused with light, and the contemplation ■of the pure - white Host shining as a star in the golden ostensorium drew from him all earthly affection. ', : '," -''"-. • / Now-all was changed. "" He had passed through the most dangerous period of -youth without a guide and he was at present adrift on the sea of y doubt. The cold wind of materialism had banished "his faith" and replaced it with a weariness which could find no rest. Du Bois looked upon life. to-day as an evil, a tiresome succession . j of countless days and nights which' he would have .soon cease.; The future" was" as a. desert, and the lingering light over the hills at sunset made him long for what he termed the ; eternal sleep of death ; he thought morbidly of the solitude of the grave, of its quiet and of its rest. Ambition, too, had departed, for lie looked only upon the evil of lifenever upon its.good. '■'■ : \ Take your obstinate optimist,' he would say in tne ; words of his favorite philosopher, 'through the hospitals, lazar houses, and surgical chambers of horrors, through the prison, torture chambers, and slave cells and over the battlefields and into all the dark retreats of misery and surely he will see of what sort is this meilleur des m dudes'possible.' This condition of mind brought no happiness to Du Bois, for he did not bear loss of faith with indifference rather it pierced him to the soul. As he paced his study this mornihV. he realised as never before the miserable emptiness of his life, and he was ' terrified at his solitude, the solitude of a great soul in which there was no altar.' *d ' Either madness or self-destruction !' his very heart cried out almost articulately, so keen was his despair. •' Late in the afternoon the city presented a.contrast to these thoughts which still remained a merciless iron in his soul. It was growing late and the music of many sleigh-bells filled the air—the streets were thronged with busy pedestrians, for it is Christmas Eve. To escape from an atmosphere of anticipation which he could not share, Du Bois entered a Museum, where he found distraction, being a connoisseur of antiquities. Here, among the remains of a people dead, hours were passed. Priceless inscriptions from Egypt, Assyria, and other Asiatic countries, curiously wrought jewellery, beautiful and strange earthenware, all brought to him the life of that mysterious East which will ever be unfathomed, never understood. He stood in awe before the relics of Greece and Rome, before the dominator of the mind and the ruler of the world. ' Beautiful Greece ! he exclaimed, 'it is thou who art the mother. of soul, mother of those divine ideals which ravished the mind through all ages and still more wonderful Rome, queen of the world, the civilise r who prepared the way for the perfection of modern life !' He was now in the manuscript collection. Studying with interest, the Evolution of the Book, he came to an open missal, one of those rare treasures which record the' patient skill and talent of the medieval monk. He, approached it with curiosity,.admiring the richness of color which time had so well preserved. His eye fell on the open page—on the final chapter of the Apocalypse, almost the last words of the great apostle expressing intense love and longing for the Master he had served on earth. It was as though a light had passed before him; then his eyes grew dim. Was it indeed faith that had returned to him ? or only the influence of the moment which made him more than read ' Veni Domine Jesu ' ? •'" Forgotten thoughts, forgotten aspirations, and above all that forgotten God rose before him. ' Veni Domine Jesu.' It was one of those moments in which heaven opens -to the wanderer, in which in an instant wonderful mysteries are revealed to the soul. The . present seemed ho more. He saw before him the Christ of his youth, pointing to His Sacred Heart. '. O again Veni Domine Jesu V his? soul cried out. and he turned . a way—-away from - this place where memories were re-

vived which he would forget, -away from light, into , the darkness of the ui ,j ht. WESKBUB The stars were shining f brightly; quiet had fallen upon the city. . Hours had passed -and he knew it not. Feeljngs which he could not quell arose within him—an awkward love for this Christ Who held His hand , v extended to him. - ' Veni /Jominei,Jesu'— -but could He» • come to ' him, to ; one who had -so forsaken ; Him, so despised Him, so';;■ betrayed Him ?; ;i His life appeared ■•■ now" as a dark road /.' over hard rocks; no love, no peace, • , -only thoughts of' self. And could this. Lord come? It : was; too 'much! ,■--'• - But the ways of life are unfathomable. Apparent . accident is often the providence of God. Du Bois, .. without, knowing, had come 7 to'NotreTlame, and, seeing others enter, followed. It - was -near 'midnight, that; • solemn hour made r sacred by the birth of the Son of God. Mass was about to commence) and as the, young man knelt, the brilliant star above the altar shed its ! - rays over this darkened mind and again, lie prayed, 'Veni Domine Jest/.' Suddenly it seemed as though an auyel chorus were drawing nigh, first f in the distance , then nearer and nearer; till the glorious, joyous 'Adeste i- ideles ' resounded through the long aisles of the great . Cathedral. As the glad voices sang- again,' ' Veivite in Bet hit'he he stood in spirit on the dark Judean hills • effulgent with glory of heaven; while angels awakened the slumbering shepherds and bade them seek the Desire of the everlasting hills; and it was as if one, of . that bright host had come to him and whispered r 'Come, let us, too, adore!'' -■., : He had prayed for Christ to come, and he knew how that. He was here, in lowliness, in. poverty, as a little child, so that he need not fear. ' Piter nattts est nobis et Gifim datm est nobis.' He approached the crib, knelt, and, gazing on the Divine Child, became himself a child —a child of God. Doubt "-ave place to : faith, darkness to light, weariness to rest, sadness to joy, tumult to peace. lie had, followed the star of prayer and found his home again in Bethlehem.