Fabiola : or, The church of the catacombs - Digital Repository Services

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"n of that God whoso path sho
. Mi-th.
,1 a. child of especial pi-
upon gra
with the
' th"
small-
nil in calling her to Himself. She had prayed lo revisit lliily ;
its flowers.
1
S
nnd thoy had brought her to die amongst
moumoil for the ilcnr familiar faces of her childhood; aud
iiu\v half as n mother, h:df as n niirse, the kind old l.enita.
T at her side, while u,it a day passed without a visit
from Frane . many a sweet and loving von! from him
that sacrament of love which formed tho bouJ of
ning
union bi-wivn tho heart of the old man and the poor blind
at more was wanting for the happiness of Agnese ?
one thing more to fill her cup to overflowing one thing
would have lost
ness to her lips ; and so that one thing more was
more without which the contents of that cup
grunted. Ho who gave to her the creatures of her love
not deny Himself, whom she loved almost to the
:
in thai "ll'ect, sho had ut'Ver interfered
with '"" of Agmse. In truth, she needed
all tho consolation which this thought could yield her, to
to In .k Y'i.h calmness on the dying child, as
she lay, day after day, on lur little couch calm, still, and
.ed by
r in-
.ludiifcBjj of the amuiicuicuta and distrucli" '
U. To Lnily Ornrimorn'n fancy this state of compelled in-
i added t" i'l
reality, for her atly with Jesu:; iu
aent of His ]< Magdalen, at His very fi
could hardly have felt less n< nal occupation. Such
was her meditation and such her attitude at the present moment
; but after she had lain a little while quite still and
silent, her eyes closed, and the, bright color coming up into
soft strains of tho hymn rose louder, she wliis-
her i
1 to her bister :
" It is louder now, dear Grace. Look out from the balcony,
and tell me ii' He is not coming this way."
"
No," answered
"
May. I see not the procession, but yet
it must be coming the voices are ; distinct. There, now, it has
turned the corner and ; but, holy Mother of God ! what a
sight
to see !
" she cried, suddenly interrupting herself, and
falling on her knees in the open balcony.
It was, indeed, as she said, a sight to see. She was looking
down upon a largo square, full of buyers, sellers, idlers, an-
imals, carriages, ludicrous exhibitions and spectacles of all
kinds. The Neapolitans, who almost live, in tho open air, were
nil in their open stalls, pursuing their several occupations, and
pus Chris 1 i. just one w; < !; bet' u > (he period of which our prei-
< ent chapter v us, He Himself, in her first communion, had
all. wed her, 1 v her own experience, " to tastfi and see that
the L'-rd is bweet. "
From that moment May Netterville fancied she could per- ing their fish ; housekeepers cooldug their dinners fish,
chicken and maccaroni ; nnd all the members of this vast :
knocking, hammering, shaving, weaving, and
filing, planing ;
water vendors wero preparing their beverage fishwomon sell-
;
,01-e of heaven aud less of earth about her dying sister.
Each day she spoke loss often, and every time she spoke, her
voice seemed to have a greater sweetness in it. Each day she
grew more recollected in herstlf and more absorbed, or rather,
I should say, moro forgetful of herself, and more recollected
d in ID in, who seemed to have, chosen not merely
ibis voimg spirit, but tho very form in which it was enshrined,
for the especial temple of His presence. And each day something
more of reverence seemed to mingle with May's love for
the dying child, said she, would sit for hours beside her, stilling
the regrets of her own loving heart, and resolutely putting
back the prayer that, in spite of herself, would sometimes rise
to her lips for the averting of a fate which yet sho also felt to
be less a death than a passing away from one life to another
from the life of loving expectation to that of certain and inlYuiti'.u.
These thoughts were in her mind just now, as,
with a half-finished wreath of white roses in her hands, she
sat wait ug the arrival of Francesco, who had promised to
come and carry Agneso to Lady Or.iiim re's carriage. It was
the first time she had been in tho open air sine.) she made lur
first communion, and, indet d, it was only by reiterated entreaties
she had won the unwilling consent of Ler grandmother to
sembly
benediction in the Church of the
were screaming at the very top of their voices when
the procession of the Blessed Sacrament entered the square.
Then, as if by magic, every voice wag mute, every hat was
doffed, every craft abandoned. The fishwomen ceased to sell,
the housekeeper to cook, the showman to display his wares,
the jester even to crack his jokes and ; every creature of those
busy thousands was on his knees, awed into silence and the
hush of prayer. Grace Netterville well might pronounce it "a
"
sight to see. See did not look round again until some few
minutes after the procession had passed from beneath the balcony,
and when she did so, the square had resumed its usual
appearance business and folly being once more mingled together
as the order of the day.
" In truth it is wonderful," she said, half aloud
"
the ; faith
of this people, aud their devotion."
" Aud which of them will be the better for it ?" replied Lady
Oranmore coldly, for she sometimes sought a false peace of
mind in contending, against her conscience, with the religion
of her
"
grandchildren. Which of them will cheat the iess, or
gamble the less, for all this display of devotion which seems so
admirable to you ?"
"Many, I should hope," said May, "But if it were only
one, how often has Jesus preached to the crowd in Judea, and
been c'.ntented by the conversion of one single individual 1
Zaccheus, for instance, the sole penitent in the crowd which
left Jericho to meet Him ; Matthew, called to His especial
service from amid the multitude that yet were employed in
glorifying God and ; Magduh-n, for we read of none but her
converted at the supper of Simeon."
"
It id true," retorted Lady Oranmore, "only one convert is
particularly mentioned in each of these instances, yet it does
not follow that many may not have been secretly drawn towards
their Saviour, nnd converted at the same time, i hough iu a
less ostensible and singular manner."
"
Well," said May, " admitting it were, indeed, but one in
that vast multitude below, lie who died for each individual
surely would not think the conversion of even one a useless
labor. And though it were ev. n not au entire conversion
but only a crime tha less ono bargain fairly made one oath
unuttered one irreverent jest unsaid ; surely He who died for
every separate sin would not deem that He had been boi
and though even (which seems im-
through the crowd in vain ;
possible) no single crime had been prevented no siui
"d in his evil ways, were it but for the comfort of one
.1 heart for tho giving of hope to one despairing soul
of all that He had
for the reminding of one in bodily suffering
suffered iu the body for them, sure He who passed His life iu