The Catholic World
Chapter 183 : BY THE REV. J. H. NEWMAN, D.D.1. Abbot Antony said: Without temptation there is no ent

BY THE REV. J. H. NEWMAN, D.D.

1. Abbot Antony said: Without temptation there is no entrance possible into the kingdom. Take away temptations, and no one is in the saving way.

2. Some one asked blessed a.r.s.enius, "How is it that we, with all our education and accomplishments, are so empty, and these Egyptian peasants are so full?"

He made answer: We have the world's outward training, from which nothing is learned; but theirs is a personal travail, and virtue is its fruit.

3. It was heard by some that Abbot Agatho possessed the gift of discrimination. Therefore, to make trial of his temper, they said to him, "We are told that you are sensual and haughty." He answered: That is just it.

They said again, "Are you not that Agatho who has such a foul tongue?"

He answered: I am he.

Then they said, "Are you not Agatho the heretic?" He made answer: No.

Then they asked him why he had been patient of so much, yet would not put up with this last. He answered: By those I was but casting on me evil; but by this I should be severing me from G.o.d.

4. Holy Epiphanius was asked why the commandments are ten, and the beat.i.tudes nine. He answered: The commandments are as many as the plagues of Egypt; but the beat.i.tudes are a triple image of the Holy Trinity.

5. It was told to Abbot Theodore, that a certain brother had returned to the world. He answered: Marvel not at this, but marvel rather that any one comes out of it.

6. The Abbot Sisoi said: Seek G.o.d, and not his dwelling-place.

7. It is told of a certain senior, that he wished to have a cuc.u.mber.

When he had got it, he hung it up in his sight, and would not touch it, lest appet.i.te should have the mastery of him. Thus he did penance for his wish.

{377}

From The Lamp.

ALL-HALLOW EVE; OR, THE TEST OF FUTURITY.

BY ROBERT CURTIS.

CHAPTER XVIII.

New Year's Day is always a holiday. And well it is for the girls and boys of a parish, of a district, of a county, ay, of all Ireland, if it should rise upon them in the glowing beauty of a cloudless sun.

Then, indeed, the girls "are drest in all their best." Many a new bright ribbon has been purchased on the previous market-day, and many a twist and turn the congregation side of their bonnets has had. A bow of new ribbon, blue or red, according to their complexion--for these country girls are no more fools in such a matter than their betters--has been held first to this side of their bonnet, then to that; then the long ends have been brought across the top this way, then that way, temporarily fastened with pins in the first instance, until it is held at arm's-length, with the head a little to one side, to test the final position. Their petticoats have been swelled out by numbers, not by crinoline, which as yet was unknown, even to the higher orders. But "be this as it may," the girls of the townlands of Rathcash, Rathcashmore, and Shanvilla made no contemptible turn-out upon the New Year's day after Tom Murdock had returned from Armagh.

The boys, too, were equally grand, according to their style of dress.

Some lanky, thin-shanked fellows in loose trousers and high-low boots; while the well-formed fellows, with plump calves and fine ankles, turned out in their new _corderoy_ breeches, woolen stockings, and _pumps_. I have confined myself to their lower proportions, as in most cases the coats and rests were much of the same make, though perhaps different in color and material, while the well-brushed "_Caroline_"

hat was common to all.

Conspicuous amongst the girls in the district in which our story sojourns, were, as a matter of course, Winny Cavana and Kate Mulvey, with some others of their neighbors who have not been mentioned, and who need not be.

Winny, since the little episode respecting her refusal of Tom Murdock, and his subsequent departure, had led a very quiet, meditative life.

She could not help remarking to herself, however, that she had somehow or other become still more intimate with Kate Mulvey than she had used to be; but for this she could not account--though, perhaps, the reader can. She had always been upon terms of intimacy with Kate; had frequently called there, when time would permit, and sat for half an hour, or sometimes an hour, chatting, which was always reciprocated by Kate, whose time was more on her own hands. In what then consisted the increase of intimacy can hardly be said. Perhaps it merely existed in Winny's own wish that it should be so, and the fact that one and the other, on such occasions, now always threw a cloak round her shoulders and accompanied her friend a piece of the way home. Sometimes, when the day was tempting, a decided walk would be proposed, and then the bonnet was added to the cloak. What formed the burden of their conversation in these chats, which to a close observer might be said latterly to have a.s.sumed a confidential appearance, must be so evident to the reader's capacity, that no mystery need be observed on the subject. To say the {378} least, Emon-a-knock came in for a share of it, and, as a matter of almost necessity, Tom Murdock was not altogether left out.

Kate Mulvey, after the _eclairciss.e.m.e.nt_ with Winny, believed she could do her friend some good without doing herself any harm, a principle on which alone most people will act. With this view she took an early opportunity to hint something to Emon of the result of the interview between herself and Winny, and although she did it in a very casual, and at the same time a clever, manner, she began to fear that so far as her friend's case was concerned, she had done more harm than good. The fact of Tom Murdock's proposal and rejection subsequent to the interview adverted to, had not become public amongst the neighbors; and before Winny had an opportunity of telling it to Kate, Emon had left his father's house, to seek employment in the north. It is not unlikely that he was tempted to this step by something which had fallen from Kate Mulvey respecting Winny and Tom Murdock, although the whole cat had not yet got out of the bag.

Hitherto poor Emon's heart had been kept pretty whole, through what he considered a well-founded belief that Winny Cavana, almost as a matter of course, must prefer her handsome, rich neighbor to a struggling laboring man like him. Tom, he knew, she saw almost every day, while at best she only saw him for a few minutes on Sundays after chapel.

Emon knew the meaning of the word propinquity very well, and he knew as well the danger of it. He knew, too, that if there were no such odds against him, he could scarcely dare aspire to the hand of the rich heiress of Rathcash. He knew the disposition of old Ned Cavana too well to believe that he would ever consent to a "poor devil" like him "coming to coort his daughter." He believed so thoroughly that all these things were against him, that he had hitherto successfully crushed every rising hope within his breast. He had schooled himself to look upon a match between Tom Murdock and Winny Cavana as a matter so natural, that it would be nothing less than an act of madness to endeavor to counteract it. What Kate Mulvey, however, had "let slip"

had aroused a slumbering angel in his soul. He was not wrong, then, after all, in a secret belief that this girl did not like Tom Murdock over-much. Upon what he had founded that belief he could no more have explained--even to himself--than he could have dragged the moon down from heaven; but he did believe it; he even combatted it as a fatal delusion, and yet it was true. But how did this mend the matter as regarded himself? Not in the slightest degree, except so far as that the man he most dreaded, and had most reason to dread, was no longer an acknowledged rival to his heart. Hopes he still had none.

But Emon-a-knock was now in commotion. The angel was awake, and his heart trembled at a possibility which despair had hitherto hidden from his thoughts.

For some time past he had not only not avoided a casual meeting with Winny, but delighted in them with a safe, if not altogether a happy, indifference. He looked upon her as almost betrothed to Tom Murdock; circ.u.mstances and reports were so dovetailed into one another, and so like the truth.

Although there was really no difference in rank between him and Winny, except what her father's well-earned wealth justified the a.s.sumption of, his position as a daily laborer kept him aloof from an intimacy of which those in circ.u.mstances more like her own could boast; and poor Emon felt that it was a matter for boast. Thus had he hitherto refrained from attempting to "woo that bright particular star," and his heart was comparatively safe. But now--ay, _now_--what was he to do? "Fly, Fly" said he; "I'll go seek for employment in the north.

{379} To America, India, Australia--anywhere! Kate Mulvey may have meant it as kindness; but it would have been more kind to have let me alone. This horrible knowledge of that one fact will break my heart."

And Emon-a-knock did fly. But it was no use. There were many reasons quite unconnected with Winny Cavana which rendered a more speedy return than he had intended unavoidable. A stranger beyond the precincts of his own pariah, he found it impossible to procure permanent employment amongst those who were better known, and who "belonged to the place"--a great consideration in the minds of the Irish, high and low. The bare necessaries of life, too, were more expensive in the north than about his own home; and for the few days'

employment which he got, he could scarcely support himself, while his father and family would feel the loss of his share of the earnings at home. No; these two separate establishments would never do. He could gain nothing by it but the gnawing certainty of never seeing, even at a distance, her in whom he now began to feel that his heart delighted.

Besides, he could manage to avoid her altogether by going to his own chapel; yes, he felt it a duty he owed to his father not to let him fight life's battle alone, and--he returned. We question whether this _duty_ to his _father_ was his sole motive; and we shall see whether he did not subsequently consider it a _duty_ to prefer the good preaching of Father Roche, of Rathcash, to the somewhat indifferent discourses of good Father Farrell in _his own_ chapel.

Emon had not been more than ten days or a fortnight away, and he was now following the usual routine, of a day idle and a day working, which had marked his life before he went.

But we were talking of a New Year's day, and it will be far spent if we do not return to it at once, and so we shall lose the thread of our story.

The day, as we had wished a few pages back, had risen in all the beauty of a cloudless sun. There had been a slight frost the night before, but as these slight frosts seldom bring rain until the third morning, the country people were quite satisfied that the promise of a fine day on this occasion would not be broken. The chapel-bells of Rathcash and Shanvilla might be heard sounding their dear and cheerful call to their respective paris.h.i.+oners that the hour of wors.h.i.+p had drawn near, and the well-dressed, happy congregation might be seen in strings along the road and across the pathways through the fields, in their gayest costume, laughing and chatting with an unbounded confidence in the faithfulness of the sky.

Tom Murdock, the reader knows, had returned, but he had not as yet seen Winny Cavana. One Sunday had intervened; but upon his father's advice he had refrained from going "for that wan Sunda' to chapel."

Neither, on the same advice, had he gone near old Ned's house. The old man--that is, old Murdock--had endeavored to spread a report that his son Tom was engaged to be married to a very rich girl in Armagh. He took his own views of all matters, whether critical or simple, and had his own way of what he called managing them. He was not very wrong in some of his ideas, but he sometimes endeavored to carry them out too persistently, after anybody else would have seen their inutility.

On this New Year's day, too, he had hinted something about his son's not going to ma.s.s, but Tom would not be controlled, and quickly "shut up'" that is the _fas.h.i.+onable_ phrase now-a-days--the old man upon the subject. His opinion, and he did not care to hide it, was, "that he did not see why he should be made a mope of by Winny Cavana, or any other conceited piece of goods like her." His father's pride came to his aid in this instance, and he gave way.

Rathcash chapel was a crowded place of wors.h.i.+p that day. Amongst {380} the congregation, as a matter of coa.r.s.e, were Winny Cavana and Kate Mulvey, both conspicuous by their beauty and solemnity. Tom Murdock, too, was there; doubtless he was handsome, and he was solemn also, but his solemnity was of a different description. It was that generated by disappointment, with a dream of villany in perspective.

Tom was not a coward, even under the nervous influence of rejected love. Physically, he was not one in the matters of everyday life; and morally, he wanted rect.i.tude to be one when he ought. He therefore resolved to meet Winny Cavana, as she came out of chapel, as much as possible as if nothing had happened, and to endeavor to improve the acquaintance as opportunity might permit. He purposed to himself to walk home with her, and determined, if possible, that at least a friendly intercourse should not be interrupted between them.

Emon-a-knock had steadily kept his resolution, notwithstanding our doubts, and had not gone to Rathcash chapel for the last four or five Sundays; he was even beginning to think that Father Farrell, after all, was not quite so much below Father Roche as a preacher.

At length there was a rustling of dresses and a shuffling of feet upon the floor, which proclaimed that divine wors.h.i.+p had ended; and the congregation began to pour out of Rathcash chapel--men in their dark coats and Caroline hats, and women in their best bonnets and cloaks.

Tom Murdock was out almost one of the first, and sauntered about, greeting some of the more distant neighbors whom he had not seen since his return. At length Winny and Kate made their appearance. Winny would have hurried on, but Kate "stepped short," until Tom had time to observe their approach. He came forward with more cowardice in his heart than he had ever felt before, and Winny's reception of him was not calculated to rea.s.sure him. Kate was next him, and held out her hand promptly and warmly. Winny could scarcely refuse to hold out hers; but there was neither promptness nor warmth in her manner. An awkward silence ensued on both sides, until Kate, with more anxiety on her own behalf than tact or consideration on her friend's, broke in with half a score of inquiries, very kindly put, as to his health--the _very long_ time he was away--how the neighbors _all_ missed him so much--what he had been doing--how he left his aunt--how he liked Armagh, etc, ending with a _hope_ that he had come home to _remain_.

Winny was glad she had so good a spokeswoman with her, and did not offer a single observation in her aid. To say the truth, there was neither need nor opportunity; for Kate seemed perfectly able, and not unwilling, to monopolize the conversation. Tom endeavored to be sprightly and at his ease, but made some observations far from applicable to the subjects upon which his loquacious companion had addressed him. He had hoped that when they came to the end of the lane turning up to their houses, that Kate Mulvey would have gone toward her own home, and that he must then have had a word with Winny alone; but the manner in which she hastened her step past the turn, saying, "Kate; you know we are engaged to have a walk 'our lone' today,"

showed him that no amelioration of her feelings had taken place toward him; and without saying more than "Well, this is my way," he turned and left them.

Bully-dhu was standing near the end of Winny's house, looking from him; and as he recognized his mistress on the road, commenced to wag his huge tail, as if asking permission to accompany them. "Call him, Winny," said Kate; "he may be of use to us; and, at all events, he will be _company_," and she laid a strong emphasis upon the last word.