The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1876-06-21

ii lie had lot 10 walt long. III mo
y DAYS the law did not t4rry for judges
y :.ssize 10 come round tn. country no
/, aud then Each town had lis mayor IN
J, its aldermen, any one Of whom couI
d try and hang a man if need was. :
Il Friar Richard was tried next week.
II BY this time he had somewhat reco'
i cred his spirits and his love of life; h
e defenled himself, and said that indee
; he mad slain his brother, but 1t Was b
, misadventurc he had thrown a stone a
: him in some anger, but not 10 DO hli
e deadly harm this he said with many tear
/ But, on the ether hand, it was proves
g that he had long hated Brother John
: that he had got out of the prlorY wlthou
passing the door, and had borrowed tht
masters mare on a false pretense; ano
: finally, marks of strdngulation had beer
, found on the dead mans throat. Al
this amazed and overpowered the poo
fTiar, and although his terror at the APP
. partition was not easily to be reconclIed
with his having been the person who
tied the body on the horse, and though
one alderman, shrewder than the rest,
said he thought good deal lay behind
that yet, upon the whole, it was
thought the safest and most usual course
to hang him. So he was condemned to
die-in three days time.
The friar, seeing his end 50 near,
struggled no more against his fate. He
sent tor the prior to confess him, and
told the truth with deep sorrow and HUI
mility: "lusa culpa! ntea cuipa p he
cried. eff [ had not hated my brother
and broken our rule, then this had not
come upon me.
Then the prior gave him full absolu-
/ ton and went away exceeding sorrowful,
and doubling the wisdom and justice of
| laymen, and in particular of those who
were about to hang Bother Richard for
wilful murder. This preyed upon his
mind, and lie went to Sir Thomas Erp-
ingham to utter his misgivings, and pray
the good knight to work upon the sheriff,
who was his friend, for respite until the
matter could be looked into more closely.
The knight was not at home, but my
lady saw the prior, and learned his err
rand. "Alas, good father" said she,
''5ir Thomas is not here he has gone to
London this two days"
The prior went home sick atheart
Even so long ago as this they hung
from Nowich castle, So the rude gal
lows was put up at seven o'clock, and at
eight Brother Richard must hang and
turn in the wind like weathercock
But before the fatal hour a kings
messenger galloped into the city and
spurred into the courtyard of the castle
Very soon the sheriff was reading a
parchment signed by the kings own
hand; the galows was taken down, and
the people dispersed by degrees. Some
ments should be kept, or else not made.
At night Friar Richard, not reprieved,
but. to the amazement of smaller func-
tionaries, freely pardoued by his sover-
eign, in a handwriting a house maid of
this day would blush for, but with a glo-
rioas seal the siz8 of an apple-fritter,
crept forth into the night, and, gliding
along the streets with his head down,
slipped into the priory, and was lost to
the world for many long day. Indeed.
he was confined to his cell for a month
by order Of the prior, and ordered IL
pray thrice day for the soul of Brother
John.
When Brother Richard emerged from
his cell he was changed man. He bad
gathered, amidst the thorns of tribuI :
ton, the wholesome fruit of humility and
the immortal flower of charity. Hence
forth no bitter word ever fell from his
lips, though for a time he had many
provocations, and "Honi soft q1ti NAL
pease" was the rule OF his heart He
made himself Of little account, and out
lived all enmities He lived much in
/ >F+o II, L
of Brother John that at last he got to
love him dead whom he had hated liv-
ing.
Time rolled on. The knights hair
turned gray, and the good prior died.
Then there was great commotion in
the little priory, and three or four of
the leading friars each hoped to be prior
That appointment lay with Sir Thomas
He attended the funeral
of the late prior, and then desired the I
Sub-prior to convene the monks. Good /
brothers" said he, your prior is Brother
Richard. | pray you to invest him
forthwith, and yield him due love and
The knight retired, and the monks
stared at each other a while, and then
obeyed, since there was no help for it
they invested Brother Richard in due
form; and such is the magic Of stations
that in one moment they began to look
on him with different eyes:
The new prior bore his dignity so
meekly that he disarmed all hostility.
His great rule Of life was still "Honi soft
9ui nal pense," and there is no course
more apt to eonclliate respect add good
will. The knight showed him favor and
esteem; the monks learned to respect
and by and by to revere him; but he
never ceased to reproaoh himself, and
say masses for the soul of Brother John
The years rolled on. The knights
gray hair turned white and one day he
sent for the prior, and said to him, Good
father, | have grave matters to entertain
you withal"
'speak, worshipful sir" said the
prior
The knight looked at him awhile but
seemed i'll at ease, and as one that hath /
resolved to speak, but is loath to begin. +
At last he said, Sir, there be men that +
wastes their goods in sin, or meanly hoard .
them till their last hour, yet leave them
freely to Mother Church after their
death, when they can no longer enjoy +
them. Others there be whose breast are
laden with a secret crime they ought to
confess, and clear some worthy man sus-
pected falsely; yet they will not tell till
they come to die. Methinks this is TO be
too late, and just when justice
can neither cost man ought nor profit
his neighbor. Therefore, not to be one
of these, | will reveal to you now a deed
that sits heavy on my conscience"
''You would confess to me, my SOM"
CAS- man to man, sir, but not as peai-
tent to his confessor for that were no
merit in me it would be no more than I