Just now I shall merely introduce them. She could not be otherwise to such a dear boy. His heart was rioting with the bliss of the intensely desired opportunity of meeting Ruth and feasting his eyes upon her loveliness. He and Donald had found companionship very congenial. They were mutually informed of many subjects and phases of life, and the isolated country presented little of social interest to either, but Edwin Phillips was dominated by one supreme purpose in meeting the proffered friendship of Donald cordially.
In the same grateful spirit he was cultivating Jean's liking and thus attaining the vantage point of intimacy in the family circle. Conditions are the fostering elements of a great and absorbing passion; and not one other is so intense and wholesome as living near to Nature's heart.
Mankind, as represented in society, is a disillusionist, who ruthlessly sweeps away the tenderest and most potential emotions of the human heart, leaving it callous and insensible to the sweetest, most divinely implanted instincts of the soul unto which, alone, is accorded the joys of an unalloyed passion wholly unknown to the worldly and aspiring.
So fate had suddenly controlled the heart of Edwin Phillips. His regenerated perceptions thrilled sensitively to the winds sweeping the shrilling harps of the singing pines; to the flashing radiance of jewelled sunlight; to the vesper light and the matin glitter of the scintillating stars; to babbling water and caressing breezes, whose influence reigned supreme in the cloistered stillness and cathedral dignity of the forest, and induced meditation and reflection, and a heed to the great primal need of the soul.
He was then so en rapport with the peaceful scene, he viewed the white-walled dairy, screened by drooping willow branches, and the overflowing fountain cradled in a white stone basin and hedged with limpid ferns and trailing mosses, in the light.
The sunset tints had dissolved into violet shades fringing the robe of departing day, when Jean sought Ruth, bearing in her arms a filmy white dress, fluffy with lace and airy frills. Ruth was standing before the mirror in her room, leisurely brushing her hair. There was an air of cheerful haste and pleasurable excitement attending Jean's entrance which influenced her to pause and observe her relative with wondering attention.
She had just returned from feeding the pigeons, and the time until the supper-bell rang she had esteemed as her own, to spend alone and restfully. If we are in the backwoods, we need not be rustics in our dress and behavior; and in society it is the appearance that denotes the standard of one's position. Barnard is having made for you. Put it on, please, and arrange your hair more formally by the time I also have changed my dress.
Barnard, her former governess, for a brief season:. She sang unconsciously, a fond memory of her pets dimly influencing the trend of her musings. The note of tragedy portrayed in minor chords and cadences, the wistful and despairing suggestion of the strangely weird ballad, jarred upon Jean's happy mood.
Jean placed her pinz-nez and scanned her niece with fond criticism; then adjusted the bow which confined her yellow, fluffy hair and patted the silken sash into graceful undulations. Lessons were the rule of her life; step by step, she had been led since earliest infancy, into books and knowledge, into economics pertaining to the home, in social behavior. Following Jean up the colonnaded veranda was but one of many tasks imposed by her accruing rote of attainments; but it was more formal and embarrassing than any previous experience she was capable of recalling, except the annual torture of being photographed.
Jean wore a modest white rose in the sleek coils of her fair hair, and carried herself with an imperial stateliness which awed and impressed Ruth with the formality of the occasion. At the southern point of the wide veranda, Donald and his guest reclined in wicker chairs and awaited them, and supper. As Ruth approached in the wake of Jean's rustling progress, a nervous panic assailed her mind. She dared not meet Donald's critical regard or Jamie's staring wonder; she stood with downcast eyes and waited for Jean to solve the dilemma of her deportment.
The incense of roses and lilies floated upon the wings of the eventide zephyrs, the valley reposed in the violet shadows of approaching twilight, a pale moon posed serenely over the purpling, pineclad hills far to the eastward. Edwin Phillips arose and bent his head low, with distant courtesy. His manner posed Ruth upon a pedestal of womanly remoteness and seclusiveness, and repelled the suggestion of artless intimacy intimated by Jean's mode of presentation.
Not as a child could he meet and establish an acquaintance with the queenly, slender girl, who had so enthralled his mind and heart and swayed his soul with passion's uttermost enchantment. Ruth's drooping eyes filled with nervous tears, which blurred her vision, a burning blush spread swiftly from throat to brow, as Edwin withdrew his glance and attention. Apparently, he had forgotten Ruth and had centered his mind upon the landscape; and Ruth moved over to where Donald sat, contained and silent, and found a seat beside him.
Timid with uncomfortable sensations, she slipped her hand into his with confiding appeal for comfort and companionship. Jean and her guest were discussing the potted fuchsias clustered around the base of the nearest column. Have you prepared your lessons? Ruth's quick, sweet smile flashed over her features instantly. Won't you have her to give them to me after supper, that I may atone for the day's idleness? The supper bell rang, and they followed Jean and Edwin to the dining-room, where Mary Graham and Iphogenia had displayed taste and skill in arranging the sumptuously spread tea table.
Its glittering mahogany surface was enhanced by dainty lace doilies, and adorned with real cut glass and silver, and bowls of long-stemmed, fragrant roses. He gave an undivided attention to Jean and the conversation she led, apparently, but every movement and expression of Ruth was garnered, incidentally. She fitted so harmoniously into the environment of her home; into the details of the artistically embellished homestead and the gentle refinement of the pleasant household; into the roseate radiance diffused from the shaded candles in the.
She was such an unmitigated surprise, encountered so unexpectedly in those distant forests of pine and sand! He thrilled with silent exultation in that he had found her thus, in her youthful beauty and innocence, and as securely sheltered as the arbutus and jessamine adorning the placid bosom of the forest.
The forgotten castle, where the princess slept, was deep in the heart of a wood, and in the primeval woods he had found Ruth. How alien she had appeared to the life he had known out in the forest; but all incongruousness vanished when he had entered the gates which shut in Kissic-Dale. He was charmed with. When the meal was ended and he had been conducted to the parlor, where he sat in company with Donald and Jean, Ruth's absence worried and depressed him unreasonably.
It might have been the undulating glass pendants which fringed the fixtures of the elaborate chandelier, or the swaying of the filmy lace curtains at the four tall windows, that at intervals he appeared to wink and grimace at him, as he sat formally erect, although sinking deeply into the yielding seat of a very sleek horsehair rocking-chair.
At such moments, Philip withdrew his eyes from the tantalizing portrait that he was scanning for some trace in its Old World lineaments of Ruth's perfect features; for he was convinced that it was an ancestor.
He was monosyllabic and almost silent with the speculative thoughts, the room and the absence of Ruth evoked. He was such a stranger to his present. Finally, Donald arose and went in search of Ruth. He found her on the veranda, bathed in a silvery shaft of moonlight, which poured through a cleft in a bank of tall ferns and palms. The fragrant gloom of the dewy night had enamored her, and she started violently as he approached. Ruth smiled, but remained seated.
She arose then, and placed her hand upon his arm to impress the objection she was about to confide to him. Phillips, who has spent his life in the gay world of men and women, while I have known only the forest and a few friends who live most sedately?
Donald laughed discreditingly and seized her hand to lead her into the parlor. She held back firmly. I have seen something of the world also, and I am sincerely your friend and would not flatter you vainly. She went with him then, and he smiled critically when she entered with a conscious poise of her head and a stately step quite foreign to her usually girlish behavior.
Bravely she seated herself at the piano and placed her music when Donald had opened the instrument. It fronted the two eastern windows, and asserted itself prominently, evincing thus the esteem it had commanded from the music-loving household; that it was a much-appreciated object, a throne upon which was pedestaled all the goddesses of music. In the evocative depths of its melodious bosom, Caliope, Melphomene, Polymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia and Urania abided actively; sirens to lead astraying into Lethe, burdens of care it were not wise to harbor on a weary mind which preferred to glow with idealistic emotions.
Her cheeks burned and her pulses throbbed with an unfamiliar embarrassment and acute consciousness of his fascinating personality. When her fingers evoked a prelude to one of Mendelssohn's compositions, she found composure in its exulting, uplifting chords; and for an hour she played unweariedly.
She had been well trained in music, and she chose the most ponderous in her repertoire of classical selections. The intricate and soul-inspiring creations of Listz, of Schuman, and other divinely inspired artists. She was fatigued and listless when at last Donald permitted her to leave the instrument. She escaped to the veranda and bathed her burning cheeks in the cool foliage of the potted plants yet limpid from their vesper sprinkling.
From that retreat, she heard Jean at the piano and Donald piping his wild airs on the flute. An ominous silence was broken by Jean's experimenting dancing measures; and Donald appeared in the doorway, searching the shadows to find her. As she entered the room, in response to his summons, he seized her hand and his feet began marking time with the music, which throbbed rhythmic measures to set his feet twinkling merrily. Ruth tried to resist dancing with him and her eyes sought Jean appealingly; but Jean enjoyed a romp and the exuberant spirits of youth.
Often in the. It was an impulse of his temperament rather than a passion, which found vent in the graceful evolutions. He would have found congenial expression in the wild abandon of the Highland Walloch, in which he could have shuffled off in hilarious gayety the torrential exuberance that infrequently surcharged his studious behavior, by the sluice-way of a terpsichorean revel; thus portraying the opposite traits of his character and incompatible inheritances.
Edwin Phillips smilingly retreated to a position near the piano and viewed their whirling movements with amused interest. He was beyond the range of the cynical eyes of the painted young Highlander, whose vision appeared to embrace with equal cynicism the winding figures circling the restricted spaces of yielding Brussels carpet which spread the floor with abnormal bouquets of flowers and Arabesque designs in weaving.
From waltz to galop, to schottische, to quickstep and polka, Jean led them, tirelessly, until Ruth broke away from Donald and fled to the most secluded window, flushed with fatigue and excitement. Donald barely drew a panting breath, but with the same gay mien he posed by Jean and sang lustily, with expressive voice, some topical songs current in his college community the previous year; then, with. When he ceased to sing, Edwin declared the necessity of his taking leave, and Donald went in search of Tony, the stable boy, as Jean left the room to prepare a hamper for Jennie and her children.
Ruth, leaning from the distant window, enjoying the mystic spell of lunar light upon lawn and orchard, sat erect and tremulous as Edwin approached her retreat and expressed his appreciation of the evening's hospitality in complimentary phrases. His pointedly seeking her, and the knowledge that besides themselves the room was empty, dismayed her. She had purposely screened herself with the window drapery, deprecating his glances, which puzzled and disturbed her so unusually.
She sat stiffly upright in her chair, the personification of prim reserve and formal dignity, as with downcast eyes she listened to his fluent phrases. You have seen him in.
He smiled as he recalled Donald's terpsichorean feats and musical achievements in comparison with the saintly and subdued demeanor proverbially ascribed to the Society of Friends. Oh, why did they leave her as sole entertainer of the difficult guest! She realized the dreadful task as excruciatingly cruel and embarrassing. She had conversed heedlessly; silence was too awful, too disconcerting to bear for a moment. Did you ever meet with any of them? You might think the distance quite insignificant, but to me it seemed great; a few times I have gone with Uncle Angus to see my mother's relatives.
They, too, live in another county, but those counties are very much like this vicinity, all pines and sand and cotton. The dreaded silence fell, ominously; she breathed upon its turbulent repose, a tremulously gasped sigh of helplessness; she fluttered in ignominious defeat in conversational effort. She leaned upon the low window sill that the night breeze might fan her with its perfumed breath; she was so warm and uncomfortable.
It toyed with her flowing hair and threw a few of its golden strands upon his shoulders as he, too, leaned forward and found interest in the landscape swept with lunar radiance. In the silence she was incapable of ending other tears than the limpid mist of nervousness were clamoring at the bulwark of her composure with strangling sensations.
Footsteps approached, accompanied by a silken rustle. He stood erect and met Jean with a smile as she entered. As Edwin drove along the white sanded way to the camp, spanning bright spaces and shadows alternately, he reviewed the events of the evening with concern. In doing so, the memory of a play he had witnessed many years previously intruded upon his thoughts.
Ruth, kneeling by her bed, essayed vainly to formulate an evening petition; instead, she buried her hot face in the cool depths of the white bed and sobbed tempestuously. She smothered her secret sorrow, lest Jean should hear and come to investigate the heartbroken weeping; and she knew no explanation of her hysterical behavior.
Jean went smiling and peaceful to a grateful repose and. It had been a charming day and a lovely evening, and her emotions were unusually elate and pleasant. Donald found thorns bristling his pillow and rest a farce mocked by restlessness. His important future and illimitable ambitions afforded no food for his turbulent reveries as the night rolled ponderously its dragging cycle. At Kissic-Dale, roses were blooming in extravagant profusion. They embowered trellises, climbed the trees, wreathed the fences and covered great,.
Withal, though, they were confronted with many formidable rivals. Approaches to some of the trellised pagodas and embowered garden seats were sanded white lanes, hedged by waxy, ineffably fragrant Cape jessamine; and hedges of syringas and Sweet Betsey bushes shut off the view of the vegetable garden and the poultry quarters in one direction. Tall spruce pines and evergreens posed monumentally upon the lawn, and shining-leaved magnolias, whose upper branches nodded to one peering from the restful seclusion of the second story verandas.
The noon hours brooded languorously, and a throbbing, white sun poised deliberately in the sky, as if loath to pass from the scenes Summer had decked so lavishly; and it dallied tardily in the illimitable spaces between the sapphire heavens and the emerald earth, beaming in torridical felicity. From abrood, out in the glowing radiance of the bright day, the family at Kissic-Dale was invisible; but there was girlish mirth and a murmur of voices, first in Ruth's room, west of the parlor, whose windows overlooked an old-fashioned rear lawn, and the rose garden, where magnolias flourished phenomenally and standard roses were cultivated with patience and skill that ensured success.
Anon, the. Jean came out into the hall and glanced up the broad stairway. The somnolence of the day demands something to keep one awake, do you not think so? I employed Mrs. Barnard to select them for her. You know her taste is good, generally, but—but behold the selection! Her dismay was too sincere not to enlist his interest. Ruth emitted a merry peal of laughter that echoed throughout the halls and the spacious rooms as if the imp of mirth had invaded a stately sanctuary.
Donald leaned against the door-jamb and was discreetly non-committal. Jean's visible concern and Ruth's irrepressible mirth puzzled him as much as Ruth's extraordinary appearance astonished and awed him into an uncomfortable relation to his former pupil. For school was finished; never again would they journey together to and from the white schoolhouse in the eastern forest; never again gather around the evening lamp for study and instruction; never again the golden days that had meant so much to him, but for her so little, he was fearful.
All day he had been schooling himself, diving into subjects that would re-awaken dying ambition and give him strength to plunge into the dreary future.
From troubled depths he forced his mind to reflect in what way Mrs. Barnard's judgment had erred and to probe for Jean's motive in consulting him on such a wildly dense subject as feminine attire. Ruth stood flutteringly where she could view her full length reflection in the mantel mirror.
She faced herself with a preening pose, then turned and took a peep over her shoulder. She stepped forward experimentally; a billowy train followed her wary movements. She paused in statuesque dismay, dimpling and smiling with the novel amusement of wearing a real train.
She spread her hands tragically, her eyes danced gleefully. Jean, scanning her through polished lenses, sighed profoundly. And Donald beheld, silently, her sylph-like form arrayed in a diaphanous raiment which swept the floor with cascades of airy flounces.
An elaborate corsage and lace-befrilled sleeves, completed a toilet of festive or formal appearance that accentuated the height and litheness of her slender figure then in the transitory stage of rapid growth, peculiar to her years.
Her shining hair done a la mode Psyche, also assisted the delusion of stateliness and astonished Donald in greater degree than the costume's transfiguring influence, and he gloomed speechlessly in the doorway. Jean solemnly ignored her gay persiflage. Barnard to select the latest styles. You know your uncle wishes you to be up to date in style of dress, but these, it seems to me, are extreme in the matter of length, do you not think so, Donald? Donald lifted his eyes from the floor that he had appeared to be studying.
And did the pretty girls you danced with at those balls wear dresses such as this? How it must have bored you to dance with me last Winter, after those fine times with the girls you must have admired, or at least their dresses. I think this very pretty, indeed, if it was worn by a grown-up girl. I am sorry you have no present occasion for such artistic costuming, but you can wear them for your own advantage.
She bent her spectacled gaze upon the dress. I shall feel that I am aping grown-up people, but you will understand, and I will explain to Mama's people. On the way to Loch-Lily, where Donald was to gratify an expressed desire to angle before leaving Kissic-Dale, he said to Jean, keeping his eyes strictly upon the distance:.
There she will have full opportunity to wear her dresses, and I can arrange the trip nicely. Gorman, the wife of my favorite professor, would be delighted to receive Ruth and chaperon her to the different functions, where she would be immensely admired, I am sure. As it is, though a great girl, almost grown, she is more ignorant of some things than many infants of ten years of age!
How old did you say she was? Oh, when did she attain all those years? It seems but yesterday she was such a tiny, fairy-like baby girl. Jean sighed regretfully and followed Donald through the turnstile. Iphogenia and Mary Graham had outdistanced them so far as to be invisible in the brush. It seems that I could not bear the parting just now. She is all I have, you know. She was so touched, he desisted, with a frown of gloom and fell silent, moodily reticent, his lips pressed firmly, pathetically.
Ruth, left alone, changed her dress, replacing the white gown with a sweet thing in colored organdy,.
Dicey was properly amazed and complimentary. Ruth laughed merrily, not having the slightest conception of the meaning of Dicey's remarks. She enjoyed the dress from an artistic standpoint acutely; the colors blended so harmoniously; it was a sheer organdy, with a purplish gray ground, spangled with large pinkish flowers, and she had enhanced its quaint loveliness by encircling her waist with a broad pink sash and fastening a butterfly bow of pink ribbon in the bright coils of her hair.
She noted the physical details of pink cheeks and purplish eyes and the rich touch attained from the golden sheen of her hair, and folded each into a musing scheme of color which pleased her artistic taste in that no harsh note was visible in her entire appearance.
When she had exhausted interest in the new finery she tried some music Mrs. Barnard had enclosed in the box. She had declined the trip to Loch Lily for that especial purpose, never divining that in abiding at home she had wounded Donald keenly. For more than an hour she explored the eloquent pages by sight and sound, gleaning the choicest bits of sentiment and melody.
She left the piano finally, and sat in the window opening upon the veranda, listlessly viewing with appreciative but calm vision the familiar splendor of Summer's magnificence; but the roses had.
She had never seen any place more pretentious than her home, she held no unsatisfied longings or aspirations. The slumberous afternoon was restfully quiet; no one moved about the house. Leo slept upon the veranda steps, Dicey, in the distance, droned a hymn as she proceeded with her cooking for the ensuing Sabbath. The unusual quietude was impressive; it seemed a material quality, clasping in its couchant thrall, the dozing and absent life wont to echo in the silent spaces.
The pigeons smote its resonant surface with silvery whiffings of their white and dove-gray wings, the clock in the hall accentuated its reign with emphatic strokes of its ponderous pendulum, and Ruth sat a long while in a motionless attitude.
At last she stirred restively and centered her gaze beyond the tree-shadowed lawn, where the world basked in a flaming effulgence of mid-afternoon sunlight. Thus until the silence and the sibilant somnolence was cleft by a riternello, clear-toned in its warbling, trilling, bubbling challenge to the warmth and peace of the Summertide upon which was flung in musical rills a bursting heart of liquid melody.
Ruth sprang up, joyously alert, her heart athrill with glad welcome, her eyes searching the pyramidal magnolias. But was it the same? It sang so much as he had done, but would he sing those same fresh, vibrant notes two seasons in succession? Had he weathered storms and stress of existence to return in all his pristine joyousness?
What a pean of praise and alleluia of thanksgiving had been his salutation of blossom and sunshine, of warmth and fragrance, which charmed for a moment his exuberant fancy! Ruth's fancy soon turned again to musical measures, and, resuming her seat at the piano, she played Hungarian dances and tripping melodies as blithely a sthe mocking-bird had sung in the magnolia.
Someone hailed her at the open window. She glanced over her shoulder a startled inquiry into the sound of a voice and met the smiling greeting of Edwin Phillips. MacKethan farewell. He leaves to-morrow, does he not? She resumed her seat on the piano stool; she dared not move to any other position. She could laugh and pose in trailing garments and display the mature arrangement of her. She arose again, convicted of unpardonable rudeness.
The voluminous folds of her lengthy skirts twined about her, impedingly. He stepped across the low window-sill and entered the parlor. Then he seated himself deliberately quite near the window. With supreme effort she continued to converse, spasmodically. She asked for news of Mrs. Stephenson and the children, and quizzed him in regard to the flora in the forests he rode over daily. He was politely responsive, but withal there fell speechless periods, in which her mind seethed with bashful confusion and her self-consciousness became a poignant pain.
That his melting glances mirrored passions hitherto a stranger to her youth she realized vaguely, but she did not assign them to the sublime category of Love, as pictured in the romances she had read with the credulous wonder with which she had received the improbable myths of the gods.
To grasp such a transcendental emotion and embody it in the familiar atmosphere of Kissic-Dale would have. She drooped her eyes secretively, her dark lashes sweeping her scorching cheeks. The climax of her woes had fallen mercilessly upon her. You must wait! He would be so disappointed. I—I—will show you the roses if you will let me explain.
Do you observe that I do not appear natural? Would you believe that I am wearing my own dress? He smiled, as if some hidden knowledge elated him.
He bore the reproach so meekly she was touched with a sudden repentance. Her eyes sparkled with tears of nervousness. She arose then, and choosing her steps with care, shrank, mentally, into a wisp, as she swept out of the room, the coquettish train swishing upon the carpet with defiant frou-frou. What did she mean by such a remark? It was one of her figurative speeches, I suppose. She thought me so unfamiliar looking. It is a wonder you knew me, having seen so very little of me, only once, you know.
Out in the sunshine and the sweet shadows, with her toilet explained and her mind relieved upon that point, she was more self-poised and reliant. Finally, after long dallyings by peculiarly interesting shrub or flower, they stood by a little dwarfed pine over-shadowed by a symmetrical maple tree. The quaint, sanded path leading from the front lawn to that locality was hedged with a squat, straggly shrub, whose branches drooped, not ungracefully.
We are Scotch, as you may know, and we love that country dearly. It is rather cold there, I infer, for they planted this maple to screen the pine and broom from the midsummer sun. Soon the broom will be in bloom, bearing great spikes of yellow blossoms. You might think them ugly, but to us they are always beautiful, because they grow upon the Scottish moors.
Do you understand? He bowed affirmatively, happy to listen, when at last she had been induced to chatter. In the rose garden she was again eloquent in commending an old sun-dial and a dwarfish rose-tree, also said to have been imported from Scotland. He was so enthused with the beauty and the fragrance of the luscious roses, he induced her to tarry indefinitely.
They loitered beneath the great sheltering wings of a tall magnolia and viewed the western landscape, which included the dove-cote, the vine-yard, and the forest-crowned hill, whose declivity was covered with oak, hickory and maple, and its crest with tall, waving pines, whose green-plumed polls glistened as they braved the full glare of the westerning sun.
As their acquaintance progressed, she was deeply impressed with his gentleness and. Also he caressed the roses so daintily and held aloof from the sensitive magnolia blossoms that a warm breath would tarnish irreparably.
She was conscious of an increasing admiration, and felt an uplifting pleasure in his society which enhanced life, as flowers give a refined note to the landscape. They returned to the house when the sun was dipping into the pine-cushioned western hills, and paused on the central steps of the veranda, to wait for the fishing party, then expected, to return.
Ruth laid aside her hat and leaned against a column restfully, when they had seated themselves on the broad white steps. He sat on the step below her position, and made desultory remarks upon the weather so very perfect, the roses so lovely, and the green and white semblance of the remote forest. It was so easy to be optimistic and happy in that Edenic environment, arched by a smiling sky, the senses lulled by languorous breezes.
He fell silent again, his thoughts speculative, his heart acutely sensitive to the charm of the secluded domain and the beauty of its youthful heiress.
There comes the absent ones! Perhaps they had no luck, after their heroic courage in going down there this warm afternoon. Along the way from the spring and the vicinity below it came Jean and Donald, followed by Mary Graham and the maid.
The latter bore spoils to prove that the venture had not been in vain. They approached, smiling upon the handsome couple upon the broad steps, and Edwin ran down to assist Jean's ascent; but she sank upon the lowest step and motioned him to a seat beside her.
He obediently did as she requested; his lips were smiling, but the shadow of a frown gloomed his expression. Certainly we must work, but, at the same time, our spirit must find nourishment in the virtue of our labor. We must do our work with recollection in God, see in it the accomplishment of God's plan, keep ourselves in His holy will, and say before every action: "I am doing this to give glory to God.
Our life flows on like a torrent, all rushing sound and movement. The thought of God's presence, or of His will, or of His glory, or of some mystery or virtue should be habitual to us. Hoc sentite in vobis quod et in Christo Jesu. In His words, "I have not spoken of Myself. He listens to the Father, consults Him, and then faithfully repeats His Divine answer, without adding or subtracting anything. He is only the Word of the Father, Verbum Dei.
For this reason the words of Jesus were the breath of life. They warmed with a mysterious fire: Nonne cor nostrum ardens erat in nobis dum loqueretur? My words abide in you, you shall ask whatever you will, and it shall be done unto you. Saint Paul enjoined that on the faithful: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you abundantly.
We must comprehend and repeat His inner words. We must hear them with faith, receive them with respect and love, impart them with fidelity and confidence, with sweetness and power.
Up to the present time we have rarely been inspired by the words of Jesus, but often by our self-love and natural affections. It seems that the Parish Priest is on a percentage of the takings for the upkeep of the church and the Bishop, a Bishop in a Munster Diocese which shares a boundary with two other Munster Dioceses and the Provincence of Lenister, Look at a map of Irish Dioceses and you will work out which Bishop I refer seems to have little or nothing to say on the matter.
Maybe he does not even know such events take place. A common enough occurrence at this stage Fr. Speaking of Bishops, blog regular, Bishop Alphonsus is now inviting applications for the Ministry of Catechist. Are there 9 new seminarians for Irish dioceses? This night do I require thy soul of thee. As far as I can see the younger Latin Mass priests are thoroughly gay and active as such.
LM is a facade to hide behind. The VCSC itself abolished prayer and belief from if not before. Jesus was telling us not to do as Parolin did to a lot of people. The VCSC is out of communion with good priests and bishops — who get put upon by archbishops.
If you get caught up in this giant synod thingy beware lest your good will be taken for granted by those higher up than you would trust. In those circumstances it has ceased to matter which liturgies are in use. Some lovely photos from a High Mass in the college chapel, Maynooth. Absolutely gorgeous. All this preoccupation and concerns about liturgy and clerical vestments: more deckchair management on the RCC Titanic! Often those that use such obscure acronyms merely demonstrate their insecure herd mentality.
The priesthood portrayed above is a cult and not fit for purpose. All blogs have numerous commenters under anonymous or acronyms or weird titles of a kind. Very few give their real names.
It reveals the fear people have of veing identified, thus being potentially chased down. Also, using anonymous or acronyms is protecting your privacy.
The downside is that people can say what they like when hiding behind unidentifiable personae. We therefore must be discreet and careful. My comment was NOT about pseudonyms. Do you even understand the difference? The once and future bishops, Joe Duffy and Joe McGuinness were glad-handing about, with Joe D doing his usual routine of making offensive remarks to people under the guise of humour.
Pat, this is all hearsay. If you had any evidence of actively gay priests or absent priests from their parish — you would be exposing them surely? Roisin what planet do you live on?! But this is why it is important that the church moves on with the times. Actually turned out to be a hurricane that blew away every thing he loved. Just read Veterum Sapientia his document on Latin to see he had no idea what would happen and would be appalled with what has happened.
It is on BBC iPlayer now. Lawsuit brought against yet another RC diocese for aiding and abetting crime. This is current not historic btw. You are wrong 9. Bishop Pat, I have been on this blog before. My brother is gay and has been with 2 priests, sexually.
I have no issue with that, but the hypocrisy of one of them to denounce or preach to my son about sex before marriage is unacceptable. Is this behaviour allowed Pat? Not uncommon. And there is no problem whatsoever once we engage meaningfully with parishioners. Generally they are understanding. Eamonn Martin spoke exceptionally well in Armagh today. His well chosen, artfully crafted and thankfully heavily nuanced words went some way to allaying the error of having the event as it was formulated.
The event did little for the memory of the British soldiers, I. The Archbishop in his words, I thought , was brave and courageous in the context of the event and that place. Credit where due and the Archbishop exercised great sensitivity and care. They face life in a country with entrenched, divisive views. They deserve better. Act, act, act. Get a grip on your vocabulary man. Buckley rant on Latin Mass today indeed. Some points he got it right, some other points wrong.
I have nothing against Latin Mass. The problem I have with Latin Mass was aired before on this blog along with too long mass. Cos sometime in the past, I preferred a quickie mass of 30 mins or less with no sermon.
The one in NYC where it had me boiling when a priest droned and droned on some obscure church off wall street. He was looking for attention cos he was asking people where u from etc during sermon et al. Heard old neighbours deceased now moan as she missed Latin Mass where everyine there said one language.
Roncalli was a freemason. Paul 6th was probably a homosexual as well re previous liaison with some actor in Milan. Hopkins was a superb actor. No beef with Latin Mass but have beef with Latin Mass societies due to their excessive secrecy, they think they are above reach with holiness re abuses.
They as priests in certain Latin Mass societies think they are untouchables and spotless etc. Lace and all its sundry is an attraction for any aspiring gay priests out there.
Frankie the bouncer got it right in some ways but wrong in other ways. It creates a division and discord as well. RCC always brags about unity and 2 thousand years reich. Cracks in rcc are starting to appear now with people more divided as ever.
Think it will be another jesuit in the making re next pope. II shite, wither they want or not, it wont happen. Your constant insults to Cardinal Burke shows you are not a nice person just because in your eyes he had the audacity to wear the Cappa Magna, get over it and learn some manners.
Have a good look at Taylor Marshall,Vigano and Schneider as they all spoke sanctimoniously pious at times. That isnt frankly acceptable. They cant have both ways. If they want to set up and create a schism. Then its fine. Look at SSPX causing division and discord ,not only them but others in return to tradition website, Taylor marshall and two others that i mentioned it the above.
I love to wind up re Mother Burke as he can go and wear that ancient old cappa magna to create a ridicule for him and others im not bothered as its his prerogative which reminded us of the Constantine and famed Roman legion army vestments such as 10th legion army.
Cappa magna was a symptomatic of Constantine pompous era and arrogance. Its llke looking down at us as little people. Its for SHOW full stop. Think it was one Italian cardinal who said rcc was or years out of date.
No more money coming in as extra revenue apart from church gate collections. I remembered some quote saying bishops as god mouthpieces which I think a lot of blanoey in it. Interesting bit was ordination paper piece that a priest had to sign it to swear their obedience to their Bishop but NOT their god.
This means priests will back their Bishop by virtue of their silence and disown their parishioners. Its bishops first, then 2nd is himself, 3rd is people in their parish. A change in their priorities since 50s and 60s. That cardinal was Martini of Milan, who wasa friend of Dorothy, a semi-athiest and a member of the St Gallen Mafia which promoted the clownish oaf currently misruling in Rome.
Forgive my ignorance, who is Dorothy? U mean Vinnie? Yes heard of St Gallen Mafia as they nominated him. That isnt the work of HS correct? Per JPII rules on conclave, that mafia group would be excommunicated per se. Granted it is confusing with the clerical tendency to keep on talking as if gay sex was never legalized. The fact that Bergo was the candidate says a lot about them and about Bergo.
Never for Church. Hence, oops my mistake. I learn something new every day. Anon at 6.
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