Inez a tale of the Alamo |
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| 16. | CHAPTER XVI. |
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 | CHAPTER XVI. Inez |  |
16. CHAPTER XVI.
“Be sure that you teach nothing to the people but what is certainly
to be found in Scripture.”
Bishop Taylor.
Mary Irving sought her chamber, and sinking on her
knees, fervently implored the blessing and guidance of Him
who is very precious help in time of need. She prayed for
strength to meet with Christian fortitude the trials which
awaited her, and in all the vicissitudes of her checkered
life to pursue unfalteringly the path of duty. She strove
to collect her scattered thoughts, and with what composure
she could assume, returned to the dining-room. The
fire was burning low on the hearth, and the single candle
gave but a faint, unsteady light. Florence was slowly
pacing up and down the floor; she raised her head as
Mary entered, then sunk it wearily on her bosom, and resumed
her walk.
“Florry, come sit here by me—I want to consult you.”
“Is it very important, Mary? I feel to-night as though
I could comprehend nothing; let me wear off this dull
pain in my heart and head by walking, if possible.”
“My dear Florry, it is important; and therefore you
will forgive me if I claim your attention.”
Florence seated herself, and as she did so, leaned her head
about her, and gently stroked back the raven hair from
her aching brow.
“Since we broke up our school, I have been warned
that we are in danger, and advised to leave San Antonio as
speedily as possible; for strife is evidently at hand, and
a battle-ground is no place for those so unprotected as you
and I.”
“Dr. Bryant has promised to watch over us; and surely
you have implicit confidence in both his judgment and
honor. What do you fear, Mary?”
“Every thing. We may remain here too long—till escape
will be impossible; and then who may predict with
any degree of certainty the chances of war? That Dr.
Bryant will do all that a friend or brother would, I
doubt not; but he may be powerless to help when danger
assails; and even if he should not, to travel from here in
stormy times would not be so easy as you imagine.”
“Who has been filling your head with such ideas?
It could be none other than that dark-browed Inez.”
“If she has, could aught but disinterested friendship
actuate her to such a course?”
“Really, Mary, I should not have given you credit
for so much credulity. Do you place any confidence in
what that girl may tell you?”
“I do rely on what she confides to me. Has she ever
given you cause to doubt her sincerity? Indeed, Florry,
you do her injustice. I would willingly—God only knows
how willingly—doubt some portions of what I have heard
from her lips, but I dare not.”
“Mary, can you not perceive that she is jealous of
us, and hopes, by operating on your fears, to drive us from
this place? The Padre hinted as much to me not long
since.”
“Florry, it is for you to say whether Inez speaks truth.
From her lips I had the words—Your Cousin Florence is a
Papist, wears a crucifix about her neck, and kneels in the
confessional. Oh, Florry! will you—can you—do you
deny the charge?”
The cousins stood up, and each gazed full upon the
other. Mary's face was colorless as marble, and her hands
were tightly clasped as she bent forward with a longing,
searching, eager look. A crimson glow rushed to Florence's
very temples; then receded, leaving an ashy paleness.
“I am a member of the Church of Rome.”
Mary groaned and sank back into her chair, at this confirmation
of her fears. Florence leaned against the chimney,
and continued in a low, but clear voice—“I have
little to say in defense of what you may consider a deception.
I deny the right of any on earth to question my
motives or actions; yet I would not that you, Mary, who
have loved me so long and truly, should be alienated, without
hearing the reasons which I have to allege in favor of
my conduct. Mary, think well when I ask you what
prospect of happiness there was for me a month since?
Alone in the wide world, with ruined hopes, and a long,
long, joyless future stretching gloomily before me. I was
weary of life. I longed for death, not as a passport to the
joys of heaven (for I had never sought or deserved them),
but as bringing rest, peace, and oblivion of the past. I
groping my way in what seemed endless night, when suddenly
there came a glimmer of light, faint as the first trembling
rays of the evening star, and just pierced the darkness
in which I wandered. The Padre came to me, and
pointed to the long-forgotten God, and bade me seek him
who hath said, come unto me all ye who are weary, and I
will give you rest. Mary, do you wonder that I clasped
the hand outstretched to save me, and besought him to
lead me to the outraged and insulted God? My eyes were
opened, and looking down the long, dark vista of the past,
I saw how, worshiping a creature, I built a great barrier
between myself and heaven. I saw my danger, and resolved,
ere it was too late, to dedicate the remainder of my
life to him who gave it. The door of the church was
opened, and Father Mazzolin pointed out the way by which
I might be saved. The paths seem flowery, and he tells
me the ways are those of pleasantness and peace, and I
have resolved to try them. Once, and once only, I met
him at confession, hoping, by unvailing my sufferings to a
man of God, to receive comfort of a higher order than I
might otherwise expect. He has granted me absolution
for the past, and I doubt not that in future the intercession
of the blessed saints in heaven will avail with my offended
Maker.”
“Florry, my own dear Florry! hear me, for none on
earth love you as I do. Do you not believe the Bible—
God's written word? Has he not said, `there is one mediator
between God and man—the man Christ Jesus?'
Has not Christ made propitiation for our sin, and assured
for our past sins and faith in the sufficiency of
his atonement? Do you doubt the efficacy of Christ's
suffering and death? Tell me, Florry, by what authority
you invoke your saints? Surely you do so in opposition
to the express declaration of the Bible already quoted—
`there is one mediator between God and man.'”
“The holy Fathers of our church have been in the
habit of praying for the intercession of saints from the
earliest periods, and none have questioned their fervent
piety, or doubted the orthodoxy of their faith,” replied Florence.
“In the first place,” said Mary, “it would be ridiculous
in the extreme to advocate all the opinions and tenets advanced
by those same Fathers. St. Augustine doubted
the existence of the antipodes; Tertullian emphatically
pronounced second marriages adultery; Origen denied the
sin of David in causing the death of Uriah, and has often
been accused of favoring Arianism, and the doctrine of
transmigration of soul; while it is a well-known fact, that
Jerome, to vindicate Peter from the charge of dissimulation,
actually accused St. Paul of lying, and thereby favoring
deceit. In the second place, are you quite sure that
they were in the habit of invoking saints?”
“Certainly, Mary; for it is undeniable that St. Augustine
in his Meditations calls on the blessed Virgin, and all
the angels and apostles in heaven, to intercede with God
in his behalf. Father Mazzolin pointed out the passage
no later than last week, to remove the doubts which I confess
I entertained, as to whether it was proper and in accordance
intercession.”
“And does your conviction rest on so frail a basis?
Hear what the Rev. Dr. Milner says on this subject, in
the first volume of his Ecclesiastical History;” and taking
it from the shelf, Mary read:
“`The book of Meditations, though more known to English
readers than any other of the works ascribed to Augustine,
on account of the translation of it into our language
by Stanhope, seems not to be his, both on account of its
style, which is sententious, concise, abrupt, and void of any
of those classical elegancies which now and then appear in
our author's genuine writings; and also, on account of
the prayers to deceased saints which it contains. This
last circumstance peculiarly marks it to have been of a
later date than the age of Augustine. Frauds of this kind
were commonly practiced on the works of the Fathers in
the monastic times.'
“And why, Florry, does it peculiarly mark it as spurious?
Because, had he entertained these views on so vital a
point, the expression of them would most certainly have
occured in his other very voluminous works. I have
searched his Confessions for instances of this invocation,
either from himself or anxious mother, and had he believed,
as the Catholic prelates assert, in this intercession
of the dead, it would most assuredly have been sought in
the hour of his suffering and fear, lest he should be given
over. But I find none. On the contrary, these two passages
occur in his Confessions: `I now sought the way
of obtaining strength to enjoy thee, and found it not, till I
Christ, who is above all, God, blessed for ever, calling and
saying I am the way, the truth, and the life.' And here,
Florry, is another extract from the same book still more
conclusive—`Whom shall I look to as my mediator?
Shall I go to angels? Many have tried this, and have been
fond of visions, and have deserved to be the sport of the illusions
which they loved. The true mediator, whom in
thy secret mercy thou hast shown to the humble, and
hast sent, that by his example they might also learn humility,
the man Christ Jesus, hath appeared a mediator
between mortal sinners and the immortal Holy One, that
he might justify the ungodly, and deliver them from
death.' Yet in your manuals you are directed to say `Mother
of God command thy son;' and one of your prayers,
Florry, is as follows: `Hail, Holy Queen! Mother of
Mercy—our life, our sweetness, and our hope! To thee
do we cry, poor banished sons of Eve, to thee do we send
up our sighs, mourning and weeping in the valley of tears.
Turn thee, most gracious Advocate, thy eyes of mercy toward
us.' And at vespers you say,
Hail! whom the angelic host reveres!'
will consult both the Bible and the Fathers, or, if you
prefer it, by the words of the latter only we will decide;
for truth we are searching.”
“Mary, let me read a second time those passages from
St. Augustine. Strange I should have been so deceived,”
book to her cousin.
“Florry, can you perceive any encouragement there
given to the practice of invocation? Does not St. Augustine
expressly denounce it?”
“There can be no doubt of his sentiments on this point;
but, Mary, this is only one decision, when I have been
assured that the united voices of many Fathers established
it without a doubt, even supposing there was no authority
in Holy writ for such a custom—which, however, we have,
for did not Jacob wrestle with an angel, and did not his
blessing descend upon him?”
“But Christ had not then died; neither had the Christian
dispensation succeeded to the old Jewish rites and customs.
If you will turn to Jeremiah, you will also read how
the curse of God was pronounced against the idolators who
offered incense to the Queen of Heaven: yet you do the
same. Still, by the tradition of the elders, we will judge.
Hear the words of Paulinus on this subject—`Paul is not
a mediator; he is an embassador for Christ. John interceeds
not, but declares that this mediator is the propitiation
for our sin. The Son of Almighty God, because he redeemed
us with the price of his blood, is justly called the
true Redeemer.' Again, the great and good Ambrose—
`We follow thee, Lord Jesus, but draw us up that we may
follow. No one rises without thee. Let us seek him, and
embrace his feet, and worship him, that he may say to us,
Fear not. I am the remission of sin. I am the light, I am
the life. He that cometh to me shall not see death; because
he is the fullness of divinity.' One more, Florry—`Come
ye blind to your light! Shall we not believe God, when
he swears that neither Noah, nor Daniel, nor Job, shall
deliver one son or daughter by their righteousness. For
this end he makes the declaration, that none might put
confidence in the intercession of saints. Ye fools! who run
to Rome to seek there for the intercession of an Apostle.
When will ye be wise? What would St. Augustine say of
you, whom ye have so often quoted?' Such, Florry, are
the words of the celebrated Claud of Turin; but as he is
regarded by your church somewhat as a reformer, I will
just read one passage from Anselm, whose orthodoxy no
Papist ever questioned. Speaking of the intercession of
Christ—`If the people sin a thousand times, they need no
other Saviour; because this suffices for all things, and
cleanses from all sin.' Florry, we have jointly admired
the character of one of the earliest martyrs, St. Cyprian.
Will you hear him on this subject?—`Christ, if it be possible,
let us all follow. Let us be baptized in his name.
He opens to us the way of life. He brings us back to
Paradise. He leads us to the heavenly kingdom. Redeemed
by his blood, we shall be the blessed of God the Father.'
Yet you say in your prayers, `We fly to thy patronage,
oh! holy Mother of God!' And again—
`Hail sacred gate.'
are you not convinced as to intercession?”
“Mary, I was asking myself if vital Christianity could
exist in any church which allows such a system of deceit on
the part of its clergy? for deceived I assuredly have been.”
“You should remember, Florry, that the promulgation
of Papal doctrines, and the aggrandizement of the Romish
church, is the only aim of its priesthood; consequently, all
means which conduce to this great object are unscrupulously
employed. Even crime is sanctioned where the
good of the church can be promoted.”
“Surely, Mary, you can not mean what you say?
Crime sanctioned by the Romish clergy! Impossible!
How dare you make such an assertion!”
“It doubtless strikes you, Florry, as strangely uncharitable
and unchristian; yet, if you will consult the records
of the past, I venture to say you will think very differently.
What memorable event occurred on one of your saints'
days—the 24th of August, 1572? At dead of night the
signal was given, and the Papal ministers of France perpetrated
the foulest deed that stains the page of history.
Thirty thousand Huguenots were butchered in their beds.
And what distinguished the murderer from the doomed
victim? A white cross on the hat of the former. How
did Imperial Rome receive the tidings of this massacre?
The cannons were discharged, the Pope ordered a jubilee
and grand procession, and caused a Te Deum to be chanted.
I ask you, Florry, was not this sanctioning crime? Again,
how did the great Henry IV? The celebrated edict of
Nantes sealed his doom, and the infamous Ravaillac, for
the good of the Romish church, conveniently forgot the
commandment of Jehovah, and meritoriously assassinated
him. Florry, I have myself heard a Papist say, `that
whatever her priest commanded, she would unhesitatingly
perform.' Shocked at the broad assertion, I replied: `You
in all things! Why, you would not commit murder at his
command?' `Certainly I would, if my priest bid me;
for if I obey him, I can not do wrong.' I know this to be
true; and I ask you what is the inference? You admit
that you have been deceived. Pious frauds were committed
in the time of Ambrose and Chrysostom; yet hear
what St. Augustine says: `Lying is the saying of one
thing, and thinking of another;' and in all cases, even for
most pious purposes, he excludes lying as unchristian and
anti-scriptural.”
Florence was leaning with clasped hands on the table,
gazing intently at her cousin; while Mary knelt on the
other side, her hand resting on the large family Bible. The
light fell full on her pale face as she knelt; her chestnut
curls half vailing the pure white cheek, and the dark-blue
eyes, earnest, and yet almost angelic, in their gentle, loving
expression.
“Oh, Florry! need I implore you in future to look to
Christ alone as the author of our salvation?”
“One more question, Mary. Is there not a passage in
Revelations substantiating the doctrine of intercession?
Father Mazzolin assured me the testimony was conclusive
in favor of that practice.”
“The passages to which you allude are these: `And
another angel came and stood at the altar, having a golden
censor; and there was given unto him much incense, that
he should offer it, with the prayers of all saints, upon the
golden altar which was before the throne. And the smoke
of the incense which came with the prayers of the saints,
of intercession occurs here; and are we not as free to suppose
that the prayers so offered were in their own behalf
as that of their friends? Had it been as the Padre tells
you, would not St. John have said intercession or prayers
in behalf of others?”
“Mary, can you have mistaken the passage? This can
not be his boasted testimony.”
“I know that these two verses are highly prized by
Papists, as establishing the doctrine in question; yet I can
not see them in that light—can you?” “No, no; and if
these are the strongest arguments they can adduce in the
defense of invocation, I reject it as a remnant of the dark
ages, during which period it certainly crept into the
church.”
“If you do this, Florry, you cause the whole fabric to
totter, for on this doctrine, as a foundation, rests the arch,
of which confession is the keystone.”
“`Confess ye your sins, one to another,' is very strong in
our favor, Mary?”
“Florry, we are searching for truth, and let us in all humility
and candor investigate this particularly important
point. It seems to me that St. James's meaning is this—
when we have offended or harmed our fellow-men or
brethren, we should make all the amends in our power;
confess our faults unto them; implore their pardon, and abstain
from offensive conduct in future. Do you not think
that if he had intended us to interpret it differently, he
would have said—`Confess your faults unto your priest, and
he will give you absolution.' Setting aside all bias, do you
those words of our Saviour in his sermon on the mount:
`Therefore, if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there
rememberest that thy brother hath aught against thee, leave
there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be
reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy
gift.' If our Lord had intended the ordinance of confession,
would he not have said on this occasion, `First confess
thy sins unto thy priest, and when he has absolved
thee, then come with clean hands and offer thy gift.' Mark
the difference, and ask your own heart if there is any encouragement
here for confessing to your Padre?”
“If this passage of James were all we could adduce in
favor of confession, I should think with you, Mary; yet it
is not so. When about to dismiss his Apostles on their
errands of mercy, Christ said to them—`Peace be with
you; as my Father hath sent me, even so I send you:'
and when he had breathed upon them, he said unto them
—`Receive ye the Holy Ghost; whosesoever sins ye remit,
they are remitted unto them, and whosesoever sins ye retain,
they are retained.' Now, Mary, do you not plainly
perceive that the power of forgiving sin was conferred upon
the Apostles?”
“Most assuredly I do; and avow my belief that they
were enabled to forgive sin, and at the same time other
miraculous powers were conferred on the `Twelve.' `Then
he called his twelve disciples together, and gave them
power and authority over all devils, and to cure diseases.'
We know that they cast out devils, restored the blind,
and raised the dead. Power to forgive sin was one among
not believe that the power of raising the dead was transmitted
to posterity. How, then, can you say the gift of
absolution was?”
“But, Mary, Christ says in another place—`Thou art
Peter: and upon this rock I will build my church, and the
gates of Hell shall not prevail against it. And I will give
unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatsoever
thou shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven,
and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in
heaven.'”
“I perfectly agree with you, Florry, in believing that
St. Peter had miraculous powers bestowed on him by our
Saviour; but it seems absurd to suppose that those powers
were perpetuated in the ministers of the Roman Catholic
Church. Our Saviour said, what `Peter loosed, should be
loosed in heaven,' and not what Peter's successors loosed
should be observed and loosed in heaven. We should not
judge of Christ's views by isolated passages, but rather
from all his teachings; for if we did, what would you say
to the verse just below those already quoted, `And he said
unto Peter, get thee behind me Satan, thou art an offense
unto me, for thou savorest not the things which be of God
but those that be of men.' But this is wandering from
the subject. In St. Augustine's Confessions, though I admit
somewhat abridged, I find nothing relating to confessing
to priests. This passage alone appears: `O Lord,
thou knowest!—have I not confessed my sins to thee? and
hast thou not pardoned the iniquity of my heart?' Speaking
of a sudden illness during his boyhood, he says he eagerly
about to comply with his request, when he quickly recovered.
Now, had he considered confession necessary, would
he not have urged it upon all who read his Confessions,
which you will mark, Florry, were not made to a priest,
but obviously to God himself.”
There followed a long pause, while Florence dropt her
face in her hands, and sighed heavily.
“Florry, it is very late; our candle has burnt low—see,
it is flickering in the socket; we have not heeded the
lapse of time.” She rose and replaced the books she had
been consulting.
“Mary, Mary! why have you shaken my faith? I had
thought to find comfort in future, but you have torn my
hope from me, and peace flies with the foundations which
you have removed!”
“Florry, you have been blinded, deceived. They have
cried unto you, Peace! peace! when there was no peace.
But oh! there is a source of rest, and strength, and comfort,
which is to be attained not by confession, or the intercession
of the dead or living, but by repentance for the
past, and an active, trusting faith in the mediation of our
blessed Lord Jesus Christ.”
| CHAPTER XVI. Inez | |