Litchfield enquirer., 1878-03-07

kilEIH. | H t have observed thai women who habitually resort to confession are much more liable to commit atrocities than others. They look up- On their shrift as a wiping off of all old scores, and alicense to begin sinning afresh. I have heard peasant woman threaten to poison her husband, adding that when he was safe under ground she would make her confession, do a penance of a long prayers, and then live with a conscience clear, owing to dissolution Pau lima Marienha was a Catholic who would have considered herself quit of any crime on the same terms. She had once poured out her whole soul to me, but finding me firm ill the doctrine that divine pardon can only be earned by true repentance asshoWn in altered modes of life, she grew reticent, and from that day forth began to confess to me only trifles, which it was trouble to listen to with patience. Ev- idently she told me many untruths in answer to the searching questions put to her; but what could few falsehoods signify more or less to a woman who would relieve herself by repairing to the confessional of some obscure vfnage priest, to whom she was unknown, and after telling him things to make his hair stand on end, purchase absolution by donation which led him to believe in the fervor of her charity? There are many good men among my country brethren who would not have ab- solved Paulina Marienha if they had known
 
 sple-rninded ministers should often have been deceived by the well-tiressed lady who would kneel and weep by the hour until forgiven. Besides there may have been some of the poor CT one who truly thought that her gifts atoned for great deal. ..-a' 3.'. "' 'T +.'
 Two days after my conversation with the countess, I was saying early mass in our church of St. Stanfslas, when tall man, in fHred boots, walked up the nave and knelt reverently near the chancel rail 1 recognized him at glance for Casimir Barinski.
 There never was such handsome family in Dolw as the |Barihskis. >. The men looked proud and bold, though gentle as women and the women had the high spirit and courage of their brothers. But if had not known Casi- mir was coming back I might have gazed twice before guessing which one of the family this was, for he had aged so as to be the image of the dead father. His brown beard was streaked with grey, his shoulders stopped, and his eyes were cavernous, with the melancholy of long suffering. He cast a mild glance at me, and our eyes met as l face my scanty congregation, chiefly composed of women and said, 'sD00a5Rus gObjscuna."
 I could not help hurrying little through the service, for my heart beat as fast as my lips moved, and as l passed down the chancel 1 beckoned to Casimir to follow me. As soon as we were in the sacristy we fell into each others arms, and held him to me as if had found lost son.
 ''Father, father" he sobbed ''I thought I should never see any of you again"
 God is good my son, said, wiping my eyes. And your brother, your father i? is it true that"
 ''Yes, they are dead" he replied, with calm sorrow. ''You did hear of it, then?'
 ''Alas, yet but the news that comes from Si beria is SO uncertain that thought there might be hope"
 ''They died of privations and of grief fa ther; wonder how I survived them"
 Heaven be praised that you did and you are strong and well ?"
 'tWith such health and strength as you sec" he answered, pointing to his grizzling beard, which in the dim light of the sacristy looked greyer than in the church.
 We said nothing more then because of my sacristan, who came in. Nicholas Levitski, a conceited Jew, was man in whose presence it was well to hold one's peace, for, without transgressing charity, 1 may say that words which dropped into his ears were not lost. He smiled with unctuous humility, and walked round Casmir as if smelling him like watch dog does a stranger.
 ''You will come and breakfast with me? ?" l said to Casimir, and 1 had soon removed my chaSuble and surplice; then opened the door, and we stepped across he street to my small presbytery. promise you that 1 embraced the yoor boy again when was out of Nicholas Levitski's sight. 1 made him sit down by the glazed stove in the dining room, and called to my old servant, Elizabeth, to prepare us the best meal she could.
 Elizabeth was apt to grumble when1 brought home guest without having forewarned her, so, before obeying me, she came in to take a at fEaa c&ro p,,f 1trhn I hoI nounced Casimir Barinski's name she knelt down at his feet as the women do before re- turned exile, and asked him his blessing as if he had come back from the dead. He made the sign of the cross upon her forehead, and simply said, God prosper all such of thy wishes as are good!" Thereon Elizabeth, who was crying, went off to the butchers to fetch some veal chops the worthy soul would have gone barefoot to market through the snow to feed an exile. As for me uncorked bottle of white Crimean wine, and while we were waiting breakfast, sought to draw from Casl- mir an account of the things he had suffered. He answered Obligingly, but l soon saw that his "reminiscences distressed him. He was not like traveller who returns from a far country, and is happy to astonish people with his marvellous adventures. If wrote down but part of what he told me, you would un- derstand that thirteen years of such things as he endured are more gladly forgotten than re- counted even to friend whose questions are not prompted by idle curiosity. l am too old a man not to know that at Casimir's age it is more natural to look forward than behind, so ended by asking him what he was going to do now.
 ''Why, shall marry my pretty Ioulka (Ju- liet) Zezioff," he said, brightening, and as though alluding to an affair settled long ago. sWhere is the betrothed who has ever remain ed so faithful as she has to me?"
 Do you mean the late Dr. Zezioff's daugh- ter? asked astonished Il was not even aware that she knew you"
 ''Ah, she has kept her secret then !" he said with smiling face. ''Why, she cut her hair off on the day 1 went away, and she has worn it short till now. She was seventeen then, and thirteen years have passed since then but they have not rendered her less fair or tender"
 s'And did you love Ioulka before you went away, Casimir ?"
 s'She loved me, and I love her, now Ihave done 80 ever since have thought upon her in my exile, and reflected how blind 1 had been not to accept the child heart that was of fered me. But it was generous of her to guess that should repent, wasn't it?" and to re- main faithful to me exactly as if we had plighted our troths p
 ssDoes Ioulka's mother approve this match?'
 ''She approves it, and encouraged Ioulka's fidelity. To-day she put her daughters hand in mine, and she says it is owing to her pray CTS and Ioulka's that heaven sent me back.
 It was as though great weight had been lifted off my heart when heard that Casimir Barinski was to marry Ioulka Zeziof, one of the most pious and sensible girls in our town. His life would not be purpOseless now, and there was no danger of his falling into trouble with such good young creature for his wife, My only wonder was that neither Ioulka nor her mother, who were good friends of mine, had ever breathed word about the engage ment; but to be sure, those who remain faith full to Siberian exiles are like those who are welded to the memory of the dead, and they cherish their love in silence had SO little hope that Casimir would ever return, that I might have been the first to dissuade Ioulka from wasting her youth in waiting for him. Now, however, Itold Casimir that I trusted he wouldcal upon me to solemnize his mar riage as soon as possible and thereupon we sat down to the veal chops and fried ham which Elizabeth had prepared. I was glad tosee Casinir eat with good appetite, but he