Litchfield enquirer., 1881-06-16
A BISHOPS CONFESSION.

Before you can be chosen as missionary l you must pass through an ordeal which will | try whether you have every sort or courage l the physical and the moral" .-s,.
 These were the words which the General of
 the Franciscans, had spoken, to. the young French monk, Brother Euphrasius, when the
 latter had applied to be sent as missionary to l China and as the two were alone in the con-
 fessional, the good but shrewd old man added gently: 'I have watched you, Euphrasius, 1 and love you as son; that is why should like you to=know yourself You are not an
 ordinary monk, for you were soldier. and
 believe brave one, before joining us but 1t was love disappointment which drove you l into the Church, and that was weakness. A l man of true moral courage would have re-
 mained in the world to bear bis misery and do i his duty ID that state of life which he had
 adopted. You would have served Christ as
 well in the camp as in the cloister. Have you
 thought of this ? Have you ever asked your
 self whether it was not your wounded vanity, | and, in part, spirit of vindictiveness that sent you amongst us ?"
 ''It may be-" answered Euphrasius after 8
 pause. He was knesling with his arms cross
 ed and his head bent in an attitude of the l loWliest submission t'Father," he continued,
 making his full confession in sob, 'I can 1 not drive her out of my mind-I cannot. l ''That's it." said the old man in still gen. | tier tone than before. And you have been
 guided in almost all that you have done and
 now want to do, by the desireof being reveng-
 ed on her. You could not endure to live in
 the world and see her happy with another
 man. You said to yourself: ''I will plant a
 thorn ID her breast will show her how she
 has wrecked my life" Perhaps you are as-
 piring to the martyrs crewn, in order that
 hearing how you died she may give back to
 you some of the love which now ought to be.
 long wholly to her husband.
 'God forgive me; it is all true, !" murmured
 the young monk in abject contrtion, as he
 trembled in every limb.
 "Well, pray God to move you with purer 1 spirit, said the Father. 1t is but two years
 since yon became priest. and one only since
 the monotony of cloister life is beginning to
 pail upon you. The adventurousness. and
 peris of missonary's life tempt your mind i;
 you cannot bear to end your days in obscurity
 praying for yourself and for her whom you
 have lost. Yet recollect, my son, that your Il love as it burns now in your breast is deadly
 sin. If you could bear to become contempti-
 ble in the eyes of this woman so that she
 might never repent having chosen your rival,
 if you could do something to give her full
 peace at the cost of your own pride then
 your love would be good indeed, and sweet
 in Gods sight, sweet in hers, too, when she
 came to know of it by and by in Heaven"
 'I will pray for strength, Father" fatered
 Euphrasius, almost inaudibly. Then he re-
 mained on his knees for some minutes longer,
 till, having received dissolution for the slns he
 had confessed. he arose and walked off slowly | to his cell. -
 As there are many forms of human weak
 ness, so the methods of probation must be
 many and diverse. Some have to be tested in l the self-denial of creature comforts, some in
 endurance and temper, some in physical bravery l On these DO nts there seemed to be not much
 need for trying Brother Euphrasius who was
 abstemious as an anchorlte, strong in body,
 and impervious to heat or cold mild in tenn
 per; and, as regards courage, a soldier who
 had been decorated for valor on the battle-
 field. Henri de Garderoy, as his name was in
 the world. had been one of the most dashng
 officers in the French army. He had won his l captains epaulets in the Crimea; but then. 1 coming home, he had learned that the girl to
 whom he had plighted his love had, during l his absence, become aff1anced to another man. l The blow had we'll nigh driven him mad Angele de Montcroix, the young lady in aues-
 tion. was of high birth, beautiful, fascinating,
 and gifted in many ways. Henri would have l staked his life on her constancy and yet, in
 spite of her plighted troth, and even as he was
 risking his life in war, winning laureis which
 were only precious to him because he hoped
 to lay them at her feet, esen then she was un-
 true to him and gave her hand to man of no I great merit, all for money
 The contempt he felt for the girl who had
 betrayed him did not serve to cure Henri of | his love. Angelo appeared to be indifferent
 to his reproaches At the one interview which ! they had after his return she offered nc ex-
 cuses for her conduct; she told him that her | love for him was dead and she bowed her l head to his scorn; but this did not wipe out 1 her image from his heart. He lost all pleas.
 ure in his career and left the service, to go 1 and wander in an aimless way over the world. Whilst on his travels he read in the papers of l Angeles marriage to her new lover, the Baron
 de Rosenheim, banker nearly twenty years older than herself, and soon afterward be | learned that she was becoming one of the gayest leaders of fashion Tn Paris Thereup l on he returned to France, capitalized his for | tune, and entered a seminary to study for
 priests orders. Angele had been calous to | the lustre of his military glory, he would now shame her by his renunciation of all worldly | things, and be constant to her in the enforced celibacy of priesthood Such were the | thoughts uppermost in his mind when he pre- | pared for ordination such were the thoughts which still inspired him when, year after | taking pr,est's full erders. he gave up all he 1 possessed to the Franciscan order and assum | ed the brown cowl and sandals Truly, bv | that time there was DO more ID him of rancor. | as men usually understand rancor. He pray. ed morning and night that Angele might be happy, but the General of his order had right l ly divined that his wound was not healed. l and that the sentiments he cherished toward | his faithless love, generous as they might tr fl,1 God appear vlndictiveness, and petty vindic- | tiveness, too. It is not enough that we should | pardon those who wrong us: we must SO par
 don as to make the forgiveness easy and con- ! forting to receive.
 | Brother Euphrasius understood this after | the fatherly chiding he had received from l his superior but he could not cease to love. 1 and so long as hls love retained any earthly element 1t mllst remain mixed with human resentments.
 Of course he knew nothing of what Angele
 was doing. She had been married some years new, and in the secluded Norman mon- l astery where he resided no news of the outer world ever penetrated. Euphrasius spent his l days in prayer and study. He was permitted | to learn the Chinese language, and diligently did SO, but without knowing whether his ar- pcation te be enrolled as missionary would l ever be granted. The Father Superior pur- posev kept him in ignorance of this point. l whole year passed and Euphrasius did not again prefer his request, nor did the Father Super for himself allude to it. But the young friar
 was learning patience at good school. and gradually, as he devoted himself to his books, his mind grew calmer and his spirit was soothed. He began to see his position in | clearer light, and, understanding that this earthly life is short one, to feel that the | other and better life beyond this is worth striving for at any cost.
 About eighteen months after Euphrasius
 had confessed himself to his superior as above
 recorded, the father entered his cell one day l and abruptly said, 'Euphrasius, are you still
 in the same mind about going to China a?"
 "Yes, Father. /" was all the young friar could l say, but he turned crimson.
 l "Then you shall go and spend few months
 at the Foreign Mission College in Paris, where you will be instructed iu your duties. Be a good servant of the Church my sonn