The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1881-08-05


greatly on the attention show to Mrs
Eyrecourt's request. SO it was arranged
that should hear the great preacher
with mental reservation on my part
which contemplated my departure from
the church before the end Of his SER
mon.
But, before see him, feel assured
Of one thing-especially after what the
banker has told me. Stella's view of
his character is the right one. Tho
man who has deserted her has no heart
to be touched by wife or child. They
are separated forever.
AFTER THE STORY.
wINTERFIELD's DIARY CONTINUED.
March 3D. have just seen the land
lord of the hotel; he can help me to
answer one of Mrs. Eyrecourt's ques-
tions. A nephew of his holds some EN-,
ployment at the Jesuit headquarters
here, adjoining their famous church
II Gesu. have requested the young
man to ascertain il Father Benwell was
still in Rome.
4h Mdrch.-Good news this time for
Mrs. Eyrecourt, so far as it goes.
Father Benwell has long since left
Rome, and has returned to his regular
duties in England. If he exercises any
further influence over Romayne, it must
be done by letter.
5th MUch.-I have returned from Ro-
mayne's sermon. This double rene
gade-has he not deserted his religion
and his wife? has failed to convince
my reason. But he has so completely
upset my nerves that ordered bottle
of champagne Ito the great amusement
of my friend the banker) the moment
We got back to the hotel.
We drove through the scantily Lighted
streets of Rome to small church in the
neighborhood Of the Piazzi Navona. To
more imaginative man than myself,
the scene when we entered the building
would have been too impressive to be
described in words, though it might,
perhaps, have been painted. The one
light in the place glimmered mysteri-
ously from great wax candle, burning
in front of drapery of black cloth, and
Illuminating dimly sculptured repre-.
sentation, in white marble, OF the cruci-
fed Christ, wrought to the size of life.
In front of this CHASTITY emblem plat
form projected, also covered with black
cloth. We could penetrate no further
than to the space just inside the door of
the church. Everywhere else the build
ing was filled with standing, sitting and
kneeling figures, shadowy and mysteri-
ous, fading away in far corners into i'm.
penetrable gloom. The only sounds
we're the low wailing notes of the organ,
accompanied at intervals by the muffied
thump Of worshipers penitentially beat
ing their breasts. On q sudden the
organ ceased; the self-inficted blows of
the penitents wore heard no more. In
the breathless silence that followed, q
man robed in black mounted the black
platform, and faced the congregation.
His hair had become prematurely gray;
his face was of the ghastly paleness of
the great crucifix by his side. The light
OF the candle, falling on him as he
slowly turned his head, cast shadows
into the hollows of his cheeks, and gilt
tered in his cleaning eyes. In tones,
low and trembling at first, he stated the
subject of his address. A week since
two noteworthy persons had died in
Rome on the same day. One of them
was a woman of exemplary piety, whose
funeral obsequies had been celebrated
in that church. The other was crimi.
nal, charged with homicide under pro-
vocation, who had died in prison, re-
fusing the services of the priest i'm
penitent to the last. Tho sermon fol-
lowed the spirit Of the absolved woman
to its eternal reward in heaven, and de-
scribed the meeting of dear ones who
had gone before, in terms so devout and
touching that the women near us, and
even some OF the men, burst into tears
Far different was the effect produced
when ths preacher, filed with the same
overpowering sincerity of belief which
had inspired his description Of the joys
of heaven, traced the downward pro-
gress of the last man, from his impeni-
tent deathbed to his doom in hell. He
described the retributive voices of
mother and son, bereaved Of husband
and father by the fatal deed, ringing in
cessantly in the ears Of the homicide.
81, who speak to you, hear the voices, "
he cried. Assassin assassin where
are you? see him-I see the assassin
hurled into his place in the sleeplsss
ranks OF the damned-I see him, drip
ping with the flames that burn forever.
writhing under the torments that are
without respite and without end" The
climax OF this terrible effort of imagina-
tion was reached when he fell ON his
knees and prayed with sobs and cries Of
entreaty-prayed, pointing to the cruel
fix at his side-that he and all who
heard him might die the death OF peni
tent sinners, absolved in the divinely
atoning name of Christ. The hysterica
shrieks of women rang through the
chnrch. 1 conld endure ID no longer