The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1876-08-13
VI THAT BRING GLAD riDINGs OF GOOD THINGS
NEW ORLEANS, SUNDAY MORNING, AUGUST 10, 1876.

dwels in the realms of silence, that she may
the more easily hear the "stil small voice" o
! God. No Muse shows herself more properly
amiable and graceful. Her walks are in quiet
valleys, by cool waters, such as the Roya
Minstrel sang with so much satisfaction, and
| afterwards SO much longed for, when the world
| heart, hermit-like, but never mantled in stern
and proud stateliness, she has retired into soil
| tude TO pray and sing, with the full gush OF
| inspiration upon her, in the melodious sisles OF
! the forest, whose melancholy signs moaned in
unison with her mysterious utterances.
In this delightful place, in this Gland OF
birds, of flowers and woodbines, and as yet I'M
profaned by the steps of vulgar intruders," the
poet priest had built his cell, and near his
cell his chapel. The inhabitants of Bayou
Lacombe, whom he cherished as much as he
was cherished by them, seeing that both his
cell and chapel needed repair, assembled in bis
absence, resolved to go to work, and were soon
hard at it, and terribly in earnest they indeed
| repaired the cell and chapel, bnt they also do
stroyed entirely the beautiful forest around
them-trees, shrubs, bushes, all that could be
cut down and swept away!
While these blind and mad Vandals were
furionsly st work, Telling the noble old trees,
some friendly Indians knowing how dear these
trees were to Father Rouquette, kept crying at
each stroke of the axe: lob, don't do that!
don't cut them! he loves them 30 much LIE
be will be so P' But it was in vain the
grand old trees, ono after the other, came crash
ing down upon the heavinG bosom Of mother
earth. His priceless treesl they are no more,
and all the gold of the world could not restore
them to their native place.
God had already bereft him of his best
friends. lie had mourned the loss of Father
Mascaroni, that old sanity missionary of
Father Kane, that noble child of genius; of
his beloved and twin-like brother, Felix, who
was also lis nearest neig hbor. He had lost M Il |
could not replace, bis rarest books from leaks
in the roof over his library. And now, with |
folded hands ard fearful eyes, standing statue
like in his sorrow, Re beholds, around his cell |
and chapel, lis grand OLD trees cut down and |
lying on the ground, leaflese and formless ALI
it is too much, not to make bis big heart burst
and exclaim dolefnlly:
My trees! my romantic trees the grand old
trees of my Eecuded nook! They had re-
sisted the repeated shocks of all the war
ring clements, aud stIll they stood ND
towering with tranquil stateline6s, in their
green and un fadng mantle In vain had been
spent against them all the fury of many q roar
ing tempest, still they stood up as beautiful as
eyer these cherished trees to which were at
tached so many fond remem Frances, such
bright dreams and sach deep emotions; these
Trees on whose lofty branches had rested NO
often the princely eagles flight, while the
bird sang his varied strains, and the
Whip poor will sighed his melancholy notes;
.hess friendly trees which had planted and
'een grow up, and which had breat he'd inspire
ion TO my soul, and which had given shelter
% the happiest years of my life, and which
we're still destined to overshade my quiet and
ecolIected old age, and at last to throw their
nournfol gloom over my solitary grave; yes,
I'll that might have b!iShted and destroyed l
hem-the scorching sun and dryness of sum
ner the hail, and frost, and icy winds of win.
err ; the storm, hurricane, or tornado or
the WORMS that krAw at the core. ,
md the insects that eat into the roots every
epaIate cspse and all causes conspiring to-
,ethcr, ali the blasting powers of heaven and q
artbI that might have shaken, Bonded and mn. | .
Dotted, to lay them low in the dust, lad gpared .
hem during forty years, had suffered them TO !
boot up into light, to ramify and expand so as !
o shelter ne with their dense foliage inebriate
nth their sweet odors, softly l1il with the
be tuneinlsWell oftkeir plaintiye murmuriugs,
yer rejoicing my eyes with the gothic c
randenr of their stately forms and mSiestic g
IftIness. But, alas yOu. bsrbGrous men, you :
rueI monsters, you, yul gar profaners, you
mo knew so well how dear to me were these 8
nady tTees,-yo1, coward and heartless VIC a
Aters OF the right of property, ye intruded
uring my absence ye felied with the axe this a
acred grove, laying low the living columns Of T
TO great temple of Nature; and ye tore the | a
lysterious vail from its dim sanctuary ; yes, | r.
o have, in 1T Of madness, dared achieve the \
lcrilegtous deed OF irrepsrsble devastation, q
OVerlDB my dear nook with desolatinG heap | N
moulGering trunks and leadees bonghs. =
oh, that my eyes were two fountains Of ex- u
austless tears! / could Sit in silence and sor- I
wv, and weep over these fallen trees, these Ii
'vered and lifelesa branches, this land Of mine a
ow 80 deuudCd aud monotonou5, this dreary u
I'D voicelesS solitude from which is fed for. C.
yer the mysterious spell Of it's once ayfal n
imness Oh, who will bring consolation TO nv =
cart for the death of these friendly trees-wbo Z
i'll comfort-who relieve-except death itself o
i'd death onlyf q
One, now, may well comprehend the con- ii
ndipg verses of bic Indian Poem, Catherine L
sgAhNithss7 10 which be expresses 90 touch. 81