Litchfield enquirer., 1874-09-03
THE OLD CAPuCHiN AND THE
 YOUNG CARMELlTE.
By Bishop Ferrette

|
 sides the ecclesiastical traditions, quite
 number of clerical stories, which every
 new member of the craft has to learn from
 the old ones, either at the dinner-table or
 in the common parlor of the theological
 hall. give the following as it was hand
 ed down to me through l do not know
 how many sacerdotal generations.
 Many years ago, in some part of Europe,
 there lived in an old castle a lady, the
 mistress of it. She was neither young nor old, though widow of quite a number Of years standing. She had no children; and since the death of the knight, her
 spouse, had led a retired life, without
 other company than that of servants kept at proper distance. She was correct in her life, handsome in person, and took in-
 terest in nothing except the administra- ton of her estate and the practice of reli- zion. Capuchin, whose convent was about mile distant, was her chaplain and confessor, and came every morning to the castle to say an early mass for her lady ship and her vassals.
 This had been going on, no one can ex- actly say how long, but at any rate for a very long period, when of an evening, af- ter the drawbridge had been already talk en up, a voice was heard outside the gate saying in loud tone, intermediate be- tween speech and song,--
 "GOd bless the owner and all the in- habitants of this castle! and may a poor travelling friar receive hospitality in it to- night for the Lords sake!''
 'Who IS there" said the gate-keeper, looking through the interval between the lifted bridge and the gate-post.
 l "A Carmellte brother, who Is on his way from one convent to another, fears to be overtaken by night, and asks the lord or lady of this castle to allow him to spend here the night on bundle of straw, for the love of God,'' was the answer, given in voice this time approaching nearer to the tone of conversation.
 1 'I will go to and ask my lady," said the gate-keeper.
 l So he went, leaving the friar standing outside of the ditch, entered the room, bowed before the lady, and delivered his message. The lady heard him with that air of repressed impatience which was not uncommon among the pious people of that time in receiving the visits of monks, as monks were so many. Then she said with an air of resigned condescension,- | '"Tell the reverend father that he is welcome. Show him into the beggar's | room near the gate. Bring there candle stick. bundle of new straw, pitcher of water, and a loaf of bread, and bid him goodnight on my part
 The gate-keeper bowed, and slowly left I the room. As soon as he had gone, the lady was on her feet, and walked rapidly | towards the balcony which overlooked the draw-bridge, Ill order to be ill time to see what kind of troublesome monk her guest was. Contrary to her expectation, he was l a tall, handsome, well-behaved young Car l melite frlar. neatly dressed in brown tunic and snow-white woollen mantle, his head freshly shaved with the exception of a large crown of beautiful vigorous brown | hair, forming perfect circle, emblem of monastic perfection. He was at the most tWenty-one, was not yet a priest, but had just completed his noviciate, and was Travelling from the convent where the mo- wees were trained to one of the ordinary cofise1ItsvzJ Just at the moment of going | Tn he chanceO to lift up towards the bal l cony pair of large, deep blue eyes, sur rounded by long, magnificent eye-Iashes; but perceiving the lady he at once drop ped down his eyes with monastic modesty, | at the same time acknowledging her in- formal presence by the most impercepti- ble bow, which she returned in the same manner. He disappeared through the gate, and the lady went back to her apart ment and rang the bell A servant came. ''Go," said she, ito the room near the gate, and present to the revered father there my humble requests. Show him to the bedroom of honor, and place at his disposal all that he requires to prepare for supper. Tell him that the lady of the castle will have the honor of his rever- ence's company at supper
 1t was done as the lady had lesired, and at supper-time the young friar was usher ed into the dining room. The lady went to meet him at the door, knelt before'bim, kissed his hand and his scapulary, express ed to him how much she appreciated the honor which his rever ence did to her and to her house by his visit The young fri ar stammered few modest words, and was shown to seat at the table. There were but two, that of the lady at the place of honor, and that of the friar on her right hand. He sat after she had done so, and then dinner began.
 Through the first dishes the conversa- tion was rather slack. The hostess and her guest were evidently studying each other; but what slackened not was tue in- terchange of courtesies, in which they vied with each other. As the dessert ap- proached. the goblets having been sever al time emptied and re-filled, the dialogue became freer, the lady taking the direc- ion of 1t. as both the noblest and the oId- est. and the friar taking his part in 1t with modest good sense. All his answers bore the stamp of wisdom beyond his years, and did the greatest credit to the master of the novices under whose care he had been trained.
 After many subjects had been touched and dismissed, My holy father," said she,
 Il ought indeed to be thankful to Provi- denee for this opportunity of profitirg by all the instructive discourse of your reyer- ence. | admire. all the wisdom and learn ing which God hss been pleased to accu- mui.aate 1n person so young and yet so grave; and as the possibility of availing myself of 1t may be too short, I will not allow these precious moments to pass away without asking you b give me in- structicn on 6 subject to me most imncct- ant: Understand that your reverence is Carmelite. What does your paternity think of the Capuchin order?"
 My lady" said the young friar, '.this IS, as your ladyship observed, 2 very inn portant question; but, at She same time, one which could not possibly answer without assuming the gravest responsibil- ity. May I therefore beg of your lady
 Holy father, said the lady, ''please do not plead any excuse This question IS to me of the greatest importance, and may interest my salvation itself. especial ly as my confessoE"-
 1 "Whate Does the confessor of your ladyship belong to the Capuchin order?" | "Yes, my reverened father, he does.'
 "in that case, my lady. it is douhly in- cumbent on me to be entirely silent on this subject, especially as"-
 ;Espeeially as what? Oh! please, my reverend father, do not torture me. Do not torture poor sinner who humbly seeks the tue way of salvation, and who wishes to know whether the guide to whom she has intrusted her spiritual in- terests be worthy of her confidence. And If there IS indeed any special reason why should not coHmit the care of my soul to member of the Capuchin order, pray let me know 1t before 1t be too late.''