The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1874-12-29
SAINT AND SINNER.
BY r. H. sroppARp.

lScribner for January.l
A certain holy anchorite
Who for himself a cave had made,
Where, ike a wild beast in his den.
He parsed long life far from men,
Untroubled by the hateful sight
OF womap-this old man austere
Fastsd. and scourged himself. and prayed,
Renouncing all the world holds dear;
His sole thought being, day and nignt'
How TO find favor in Gods eyes,
And thereby enter PARADISE.
He led this life three score and ten
Starved years puffed up with sanctitY:
+.Who more a saint?" he tnoughtl ana tnen =
Prayed God to show him what saint he
Should emulate TO holier be;
Thinking, no doubt, like many now,
who knsel efrishte3,T rS And pray and saw:
"There is none holier than thou"
That night Gods angel came to him
(The sun at MONDAY would be dim
BY the great light that filled the place.,
And said: "If thou in sanctity,
And I'm the growth OF heavenly grace,
Would'st all surpass, thou must do more
Than fast, and scourge myself, and pray.
Thou must be like, or strive to be,
A certain man; poet he,
For he upon pipe doth play, .
And sing aud beg from door TO door
He heard in great astonishment,
Arose. and took his staff, and went
Wandering the neighboring country round
To find this poet; whom, when found,
(He sat a-piping in the sun,
And sang what songs came in his head,
He questioned earnestly, and said:
ssI pray thee, brother, tell me now
What good and great work thou hast done?
What path that holy men have trod,
What fast, what penance, or what vow
Makes thee acceptable 10 God?
Ashamed to be so questioned. he
Hung down his head as he replied:
ooh, fatherl do not scott at me;
know no good work have done,
And, as for praying, well-a-day,
i so unworthy am 10 pray,
That, sinner, have never tried
i 90 from door TO door and play
you caught me piping in the sun),
Cheering the simple people there,
VINO something for my hunger spare
The holy man insisted: "Nay,
But in the midst of thy i'll life
(For it is ill, as thou dost say,
Perhaps some good work thou hast done"
The singer then: al know of none"
Within the hermit's mind a strife
Now rOse-the angel-who could tell
Whether IL were from Heaven or Hell?
SHOW mast thou" to the poet then,
Become the beggar that thou art?
Hast thou thy worldly substance spent
In riotOus lving-women, wine,
Like most that idle craftof thine
Who follow Hellward-sinful men,
To whom the other, panied at heart,
But not a whit ashamed: al went
Another way. Twas thus: found
A poor. pale woman, running round
HitheTand thither, sick, distraught
Ut pains me to recall il yeti;
Her husband, children, had been sold
In slavery to pay debt.
But she was comely 10 behold
So certain sons OF Belial sought
Her ruin, whom may God condemn.
Her, weeping, to my hut brought,
And there protected her from them.
gave her all that possessed;
Went with her 10 the city where
Her wretched husband had been sold.
And her young children; found them there
And brOua hit them back. You guess the rest
For they are happy as of old.
But what of that? In Heavens name
What man would not have done the same?"
The hermit, smitten 10 the heart,
AT the sad tale of that poor wife,
Wept bitterly, saying: "For my part
have not done, IN all my life,
thought so holy, so much good.
And thou art so misunderstood,
And yet thou makest no complaint;
And men, because | fast and pray,
While thou upon thy pipe dOst play,
They call thee sinner and me saintr'