the village rector-第25章

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wisest　to　wait　for　the　voluntary　and　complete　confidence　of　a　woman
who　would　sooner　or　later　become　his　penitent。

One　evening　Madame　Graslin　looked　at　the　rector　with　eyes　almost
glazed　with　that　fatal　indecision　often　observable　in　persons　who　are
cherishing　the　thought　of　death。　From　that　moment　Monsieur　Bonnet
hesitated　no　longer；　he　set　before　him　the　duty　of　arresting　the
progress　of　this　cruel　moral　malady。

At　first　there　was　a　brief　struggle　of　empty　words　between　the　priest
and　Veronique；　in　which　they　both　sought　to　veil　their　real　thoughts。
In　spite　of　the　cold；　Veronique　was　sitting　on　the　granite　bench
holding　Francis　on　her　knee。　Madame　Sauviat　was　standing　at　the　corner
of　the　terrace；　purposely　so　placed　as　to　hide　the　cemetery。　Aline　was
waiting　to　take　the　child　away。

〃I　had　supposed；　madame；〃　said　the　rector；　who　was　now　paying　his
seventh　visit；　〃that　you　were　only　melancholy；　but　I　see；〃　sinking　his
voice　to　a　whisper；　〃that　your　soul　is　in　despair。　That　feeling　is
neither　Christian　nor　Catholic。〃

〃But；〃　she　replied；　looking　to　heaven　with　piercing　eyes　and　letting　a
bitter　smile　flicker　on　her　lips；　〃what　other　feeling　does　the　Church
leave　to　a　lost　soul　unless　it　be　despair？〃

As　he　heard　these　words　the　rector　realized　the　vast　extent　of　the
ravages　in　her　soul。

〃Ah！〃　he　said；　〃you　are　making　this　terrace　your　hell；　when　it　ought
to　be　your　Calvary　from　which　to　rise　to　heaven。〃

〃I　have　no　pride　left　to　place　me　on　such　a　pedestal；〃　she　answered；
in　a　tone　which　revealed　the　self…contempt　that　lay　within　her。

Here　the　priest；　by　one　of　those　inspirations　which　are　both　natural
and　frequent　in　noble　souls；　the　man　of　God　lifted　the　child　in　his
arms　and　kissed　its　forehead；　saying；　in　a　fatherly　voice；　〃Poor
little　one！〃　Then　he　gave　it　himself　to　the　nurse；　who　carried　it
away。

Madame　Sauviat　looked　at　her　daughter；　and　saw　the　efficacy　of　the
rector's　words；　for　Veronique's　eyes；　long　dry；　were　moist　with　tears。
The　old　woman　made　a　sign　to　the　priest　and　disappeared。

〃Let　us　walk；〃　said　the　rector　to　Veronique　leading　her　along　the
terrace　to　the　other　end；　from　which　Les　Tascherons　could　be　seen。
〃You　belong　to　me；　I　must　render　account　to　God　for　your　sick　soul。〃

〃Give　me　time　to　recover　from　my　depression；〃　she　said　to　him。

〃Your　depression　comes　from　injurious　meditation；〃　he　replied；
quickly。

〃Yes；〃　she　said；　with　the　simplicity　of　a　grief　which　has　reached　the
point　of　making　no　attempt　at　concealment。

〃I　see　plainly　that　you　have　fallen　into　the　gulf　of　apathy；〃　he
cried。　〃If　there　is　a　degree　of　physical　suffering　at　which　all　sense
of　modesty　expires；　there　is　also　a　degree　of　moral　suffering　in　which
all　vigor　of　soul　is　lost；　I　know　that。〃

She　was　surprised　to　hear　that　subtle　observation　and　to　find　such
tender　pity　from　this　village　rector；　but；　as　we　have　seen　already；
the　exquisite　delicacy　which　no　passion　had　ever　touched　gave　him　the
true　maternal　spirit　for　his　flock。　This　/mens　devinior/；　this
apostolic　tenderness；　places　the　priest　above　all　other　men　and　makes
him；　in　a　sense；　divine。　Madame　Graslin　had　not　as　yet　had　enough
experience　of　Monsieur　Bonnet　to　know　this　beauty　hidden　in　his　soul
like　a　spring；　from　which　flowed　grace　and　purity　and　true　life。

〃Ah！　monsieur；〃　she　cried；　giving　herself　wholly　up　to　him　by　a
gesture；　a　look；　such　as　the　dying　give。

〃I　understand　you；〃　he　said。　〃What　is　to　be　done？　What　will　you
become？〃

They　walked　in　silence　the　whole　length　of　the　balustrade；　facing
toward　the　plain。　The　solemn　moment　seemed　propitious　to　the　bearer　of
good　tidings；　the　gospel　messenger；　and　he　took　it。

〃Suppose　yourself　now　in　the　presence　of　God；〃　he　said；　in　a　low
voice；　mysteriously；　〃what　would　you　say　to　Him？〃

Madame　Graslin　stopped　as　though　struck　by　a　thunderbolt；　she
shuddered；　then　she　said　simply；　in　tones　that　brought　tears　to　the
rector's　eyes：

〃I　should　say；　as　Jesus　Christ　said：　'Father；　why　hast　thou　forsaken
me？'〃

〃Ah！　Magdalen；　that　is　the　saying　I　expected　of　you；〃　cried　Monsieur
Bonnet；　who　could　not　help　admiring　her。　〃You　see　you　are　forced　to
appeal　to　God's　justice；　you　invoke　it！　Listen　to　me；　madame。　Religion
is；　by　anticipation；　divine　justice。　The　Church　claims　for　herself　the
right　to　judge　the　actions　of　the　soul。　Human　justice　is　a　feeble
image　of　divine　justice；　it　is　but　a　pale　imitation　of　it　applied　to
the　needs　of　society。〃

〃What　do　you　mean　by　that？〃

〃You　are　not　the　judge　of　your　own　case；　you　are　dependent　upon　God；〃
said　the　priest；　〃you　have　neither　the　right　to　condemn　yourself　nor
the　right　to　absolve　yourself。　God；　my　child；　is　a　great　reverser　of
judgments。〃

〃Ah！〃　she　exclaimed。

〃He　/sees/　the　origin　of　things；　where　we　see　only　the　things
themselves。〃

Veronique　stopped　again；　struck　by　these　ideas；　that　were　new　to　her。

〃To　you；〃　said　the　brave　priest；　〃to　you　whose　soul　is　a　great　one；　I
owe　other　words　than　those　I　ought　to　give　to　my　humble　parishioners。
You；　whose　mind　and　spirit　are　so　cultivated；　you　can　rise　to　the
sense　divine　of　the　Catholic　religion；　expressed　by　images　and　words
to　the　poor　and　childlike。　Listen　to　me　attentively；　for　what　I　am
about　to　say　concerns　you；　no　matter　how　extensive　is　the　point　of
view　at　which　I　place　myself　for　a　moment；　the　case　is　yours。　/Law/；
invented　to　protect　society；　is　based　on　equality。　Society；　which　is
nothing　but　an　assemblage　of　acts；　is　based　on　inequality。　There　is
therefore　lack　of　harmony　between　act　and　law。　Ought　society　to　march
on　favored　or　repressed　by　law？　In　other　words；　ought　law　to　be　in
opposition　to　the　interior　social　movement　for　the　maintenance　of
society；　or　should　it　be　based　on　that　movement　in　order　to　guide　it？
All　legislators　have　contented　themselves　with　analyzing　acts；
indicating　those　that　seemed　to　them　blamable　or　criminal；　and
attaching　punishments　to　such　or　rewards　to　others。　That　is　human　law；
it　has　neither　the　means　to　prevent　sin；　nor　the　means　to　prevent　the
return　to　sinfulness　of　those　it　punishes。　Philanthropy　is　a　sublime
error；　it　tortures　the　body　uselessly；　it　produces　no　balm　to　heal　the
soul。　Philanthropy　gives　birth　to　projects；　emits　ideas；　confides　the
execution　of　them　to　man；　to　silence；　to　labor；　to　rules；　to　things
mute　and　powerless。　Religion　is　above　these　imperfections；　for　it
extends　man's　life　beyond　this　world。　Regarding　us　all　as　degraded
from　our　high　estate；　religion　has　opened　to　us　an　inexhaustible
treasure　of　indulgence。　We　are　all　more　or　less　advanced　toward　our
complete　regeneration；　no　one　is　sinless；　the　Church　expects　wrong…
doing；　even　crime。　Where　society　sees　a　criminal　to　be　expelled　from
its　bosom；　the　Church　sees　a　soul　to　save。　More；　far　more　than　that！
Inspired　by　God；　whom　she　studies　and　contemplates；　the　Church　admits
the　inequalities　of　strength；　she　allows　for　the　disproportion　of
burdens。　If　she　finds　us　unequal　in　heart；　in　body；　in　mind；　in
aptitude；　and　value；　she　makes　us　all　equal　by　repentance。　Hence
equality　is　no　longer　a　vain　word；　for　we　can　be；　we　are；　all　equal
through　feeling。　From　the　formless　fetichism　of　savages　to　the
graceful　inventions　of　Greece；　or　the　profound　and　metaphysical
doctrines　of　Egypt　and　India；　whether　taught　in　cheerful　or　in
terrifying　worship；　there　is　a　conviction　in　the　soul　of　manthat　of
his　fall；　that　of　his　sinfrom　which　comes　everywhere　the　idea　of
sacrifice　and　redemption。　The　death　of　the　Redeemer　of　the　human　race
is　an　image　of　what　we　have　to　do　for　ourselves；redeem　our　faults；
redeem　our　errors；　redeem　our　crimes！　All　is　redeemable；　Catholicism
itself　is　in　that　word；　hence　its　adorable　sacraments；　which　help　the
triumph　of　grace　and　sustain　the　sinner。　To　weep；　to　moan　like
Magdalen　in　the　desert；　is　but　the　beginning；　the　end　is　Action。
Monasteries　wept　and　prayed；　they　prayed　and　civilized；　they　were　the
active　agents　of　our　divine　religion。　They　built；　planted；　cultivated
Europe；　all　the　while　saving　the　treasures　of　learning；　knowledge；
human　justice；　politics；　and　art。　We　shall　ever　recognize　in　Europe
the　places　where　those　radiant　centres　once　were。　Nearly　all　our
modern　towns　are　the　children　of　monasteries。　If　you　believe　that　God
will　judge　you；　the　Church　tells　you　by　my　voice　that　sin　can　be
redeemed　by　works　of　repentance。　The　mighty　hand　of　God　weighs　both
the　evil　done　and　the　value　of　benefits　accomplished。　Be　yourself　like
those　monasteries；　work　here　the　same　miracles。　Your　prayers　must　be
labors。　From　your　labors　must　come　the　good　of　those　above　whom　you
are　placed　by　fortune；　by　superiority　of　mind；　even　this　natural
position　of　your　dwelling　is　the　image　of　your　social　situation。〃

As　he　said　the　last　words；　the　priest　and　Madame　Graslin　turned　to
walk　back　toward　the　plains；　and　the　rector　pointed　both　to　the
village　at　the　foot　of　the　hill；　and　to　the　chateau　commanding　the
whole　landscape。　It　was　then　half…past　four　o'clock；　a　glow　of　yellow
sunlight　enveloped　the　balustrade　and　the　gardens；　illuminated　the
chateau；　sparkled　on　the　gilded　railings　of　the　roof；　lighted　the　long
plain　cut　in　two　by　the　high…road；a　sad；　gray　ribbon；　not　bordered
there　by　the　fringe　of　trees　which　waved　above　it　elsewhere　on　either
side。

When　Veronique　and　Monsieur　Bonnet　had　passed　the　main　body　of　the
chateau；　they　could　seebeyond　the　courtyard；　the　stables；　and　the
officesthe　great　forest　of　Montegnac；　along　which　the　yellow　glow
was　gliding　like　a　soft　caress。　Though　this　last　gleam　of　the　setting
sun　touched　the　tree…tops　only；　it　enabled　the　eye　to　see　distinctly
the　caprices　of　that　marvellous　tapestry　which　nature　makes　of　a
forest　in　autumn。　The　oaks　were　a　mass　of　Florentine　bronze；　the
walnuts　and　the　chestnuts　displayed　their　blue…green　tones；　the　early
trees　were　putting　on　their　golden　foliage；　and　all　these　varied
colors　were　shaded　with　the　gray　of　barren　spots。　The　trunks　of　trees
already　stripped　of　leafage　showed　their　light…gray　colonnades；　the
russet；　tawny；　grayish　colors；　artistically　blended　by　the　pale
reflections　of　an　October　sun；　harmonized　with　the　vast　uncultivated
plain；　green　as　stagnant　water。

A　thought　came　into　the　rector's　mind　as　he　looked　at　this　fine
spectacle；　mute　in　other　ways；for　not　a　tree　rustled；　not　a　bird
chirped；　death　was　on　the　plain；　silence　in　the　forest；　here　and　there
a　little　smoke　from　the　village　chimneys；　that　was　all。　The　chateau
seemed　as　gloomy　as　its　mistress。　By　some　strange　law　all　things　about
a　dwelling　imitate　the　one　who　rules　there；　the　owner's　spirit　hovers
over　it。　Madame　Graslinher　mind　grasped　by　the　rector's　words；　her
soul　struck　by　conviction；　her　heart　affected　in　its　tenderest
emotions　by　the　angelic　quality　of　that　pure　voicestopped　short。　The
rector　raised　his　arm　and　pointed　to　the　forest。　Veronique　looked
there。

〃Do　you　not　think　it　has　a　vague　resemblance　to　social　life？〃　he　said。
〃To　each　its　destiny。　How　many　inequalities　in　that　mass　of　trees！
Those　placed　the　highest　lack　earth　and　moisture；　they　die　first。〃

〃Some　there　are　whom　the　shears　of　the　woman　gathering　fagots　cut
short　in　their　prime；〃　she　said　bitterly。

〃Do