She had now come into the southern transept. Around this portion of the church are ranged a number of confessionals. They are small tabernacles of carved wood, with a closet for the priest in the centre; and, on either side, a space for a penitent19 to kneel, and breathe his confession18 through a perforated auricle into the good father’s ear. Observing this arrangement, though already familiar to her, our poor Hilda was anew impressed with the infinite convenience—if we may use so poor a phrase—of the Catholic religion to its devout16 believers.
Who, in truth, that considers the matter, can resist a similar impression! In the hottest fever-fit of life, they can always find, ready for their need, a cool, quiet, beautiful place of worship. They may enter its sacred precincts at any hour, leaving the fret20 and trouble of the world behind them, and purifying themselves with a touch of holy water at the threshold. In the calm interior, fragrant21 of rich and soothing22 incense, they may hold converse23 with some saint, their awful, kindly24 friend. And, most precious privilege of all, whatever perplexity, sorrow, guilt25, may weigh upon their souls, they can fling down the dark burden at the foot of the cross, and go forth26—to sin no more, nor be any longer disquieted27; but to live again in the freshness and elasticity28 of innocence29.
“Do not these inestimable advantages,” thought Hilda, “or some of them at least, belong to Christianity itself? Are they not a part of the blessings32 which the system was meant to bestow33 upon mankind? Can the faith in which I was born and bred be perfect, if it leave a weak girl like me to wander, desolate34, with this great trouble crushing me down?”
A poignant35 anguish36 thrilled within her breast; it was like a thing that had life, and was struggling to get out.
“O help! O help!” cried Hilda; “I cannot, cannot bear it!”
Only by the reverberations that followed—arch echoing the sound to arch, and a pope of bronze repeating it to a pope of marble, as each sat enthroned over his tomb—did Hilda become aware that she had really spoken above her breath. But, in that great space, there is no need to hush38 up the heart within one’s own bosom39, so carefully as elsewhere; and if the cry reached any distant auditor40, it came broken into many fragments, and from various quarters of the church.
Approaching one of the confessionals, she saw a woman kneeling within. Just as Hilda drew near, the penitent rose, came forth, and kissed the hand of the priest, who regarded her with a look of paternal42 benignity43, and appeared to be giving her some spiritual counsel, in a low voice. She then knelt to receive his blessing31, which was fervently44 bestowed45. Hilda was so struck with the peace and joy in the woman’s face, that, as the latter retired46, she could not help speaking to her.
“You look very happy!” said she. “Is it so sweet, then, to go to the confessional?”
“O, very sweet, my dear signorina!” answered the woman, with moistened eyes and an affectionate smile; for she was so thoroughly47 softened48 with what she had been doing, that she felt as if Hilda were her younger sister. “My heart is at rest now. Thanks be to the Saviour49, and the Blessed Virgin50 and the saints, and this good father, there is no more trouble for poor Teresa!”
“I am glad for your sake,” said Hilda, sighing for her own. “I am a poor heretic, but a human sister; and I rejoice for you!”
She went from one to another of the confessionals, and, looking at each, perceived that they were inscribed51 with gilt52 letters: on one, Pro41 Italica Lingua; on another, Pro Flandrica Lingua; on a third, Pro Polonica Lingua; on a fourth, Pro Illyrica Lingua; on a fifth, Pro Hispanica Lingua. In this vast and hospitable53 cathedral, worthy54 to be the religious heart of the whole world, there was room for all nations; there was access to the Divine Grace for every Christian30 soul; there was an ear for what the overburdened heart might have to murmur55, speak in what native tongue it would.
When Hilda had almost completed the circuit of the transept, she came to a confessional—the central part was closed, but a mystic room protruded56 from it, indicating the presence of a priest within—on which was inscribed, Pro Anglica Lingua.
It was the word in season! If she had heard her mother’s voice from within the tabernacle, calling her, in her own mother-tongue, to come and lay her poor head in her lap, and sob57 out all her troubles, Hilda could not have responded with a more inevitable58 obedience59. She did not think; she only felt. Within her heart was a great need. Close at hand, within the veil of the confessional, was the relief. She flung herself down in the penitent’s place; and, tremulously, passionately60, with sobs61, tears, and the turbulent overflow62 of emotion too long repressed, she poured out the dark story which had infused its poison into her innocent life.
Hilda had not seen, nor could she now see, the visage of the priest. But, at intervals63, in the pauses of that strange confession, half choked by the struggle of her feelings toward an outlet64, she heard a mild, calm voice, somewhat mellowed65 by age. It spoke37 soothingly66; it encouraged her; it led her on by apposite questions that seemed to be suggested by a great and tender interest, and acted like magnetism68 in attracting the girl’s confidence to this unseen friend. The priest’s share in the interview, indeed, resembled that of one who removes the stones, clustered branches, or whatever entanglements69 impede70 the current of a swollen71 stream. Hilda could have imagined—so much to the purpose were his inquiries—that he was already acquainted with some outline of what she strove to tell him.
Thus assisted, she revealed the whole of her terrible secret! The whole, except that no name escaped her lips.
And, ah, what a relief! When the hysteric gasp72, the strife73 between words and sobs, had subsided74, what a torture had passed away from her soul! It was all gone; her bosom was as pure now as in her childhood. She was a girl again; she was Hilda of the dove-cote; not that doubtful creature whom her own doves had hardly recognized as their mistress and playmate, by reason of the death-scent that clung to her garments!
After she had ceased to speak, Hilda heard the priest bestir himself with an old man’s reluctant movement. He stepped out of the confessional; and as the girl was still kneeling in the penitential corner, he summoned her forth.
“Stand up, my daughter,” said the mild voice of the confessor; “what we have further to say must be spoken face to face.”
Hilda did his bidding, and stood before him with a downcast visage, which flushed and grew pale again. But it had the wonderful beauty which we may often observe in those who have recently gone through a great struggle, and won the peace that lies just on the other side. We see it in a new mother’s face; we see it in the faces of the dead; and in Hilda’s countenance—which had always a rare natural charm for her friends—this glory of peace made her as lovely as an angel.
On her part, Hilda beheld a venerable figure with hair as white as snow, and a face strikingly characterized by benevolence75. It bore marks of thought, however, and penetrative insight; although the keen glances of the eyes were now somewhat bedimmed with tears, which the aged67 shed, or almost shed, on lighter76 stress of emotion than would elicit77 them from younger men.
“It has not escaped my observation, daughter,” said the priest, “that this is your first acquaintance with the confessional. How is this?”
“Father,” replied Hilda, raising her eyes, and again letting them fall, “I am of New Eng land birth, and was bred as what you call a heretic.”
“From New England!” exclaimed the priest. “It was my own birthplace, likewise; nor have fifty years of absence made me cease to love it. But a heretic! And are you reconciled to the Church?”
“Never, father,” said Hilda.
“And, that being the case,” demanded the old man, “on what ground, my daughter, have you sought to avail yourself of these blessed privileges, confined exclusively to members of the one true Church, of confession and absolution?”
“Absolution, father?” exclaimed Hilda, shrinking back. “O no, no! I never dreamed of that! Only our Heavenly Father can forgive my sins; and it is only by sincere repentance78 of whatever wrong I may have done, and by my own best efforts towards a higher life, that I can hope for his forgiveness! God forbid that I should ask absolution from mortal man!”
“Then wherefore,” rejoined the priest, with somewhat less mildness in his tone,—“wherefore, I ask again, have you taken possession, as I may term it, of this holy ordinance79; being a heretic, and neither seeking to share, nor having faith in, the unspeakable advantages which the Church offers to its penitents80?”
“Father,” answered Hilda, trying to tell the old man the simple truth, “I am a motherless girl, and a stranger here in Italy. I had only God to take care of me, and be my closest friend; and the terrible, terrible crime, which I have revealed to you, thrust itself between him and me; so that I groped for him in the darkness, as it were, and found him not,—found nothing but a dreadful solitude81, and this crime in the midst of it! I could not bear it. It seemed as if I made the awful guilt my own, by keeping it hidden in my heart. I grew a fearful thing to myself. I was going mad!”
“It was a grievous trial, my poor child!” observed the confessor. “Your relief, I trust, will prove to be greater than you yet know!”
“I feel already how immense it is!” said Hilda, looking gratefully in his face. “Surely, father, it was the hand of Providence82 that led me hither, and made me feel that this vast temple of Christianity, this great home of religion, must needs contain some cure, some ease, at least, for my unutterable anguish. And it has proved so. I have told the hideous83 secret; told it under the sacred seal of the confessional; and now it will burn my poor heart no more!”
“But, daughter,” answered the venerable priest, not unmoved by what Hilda said, “you forget! you mistake!—you claim a privilege to which you have not entitled yourself! The seal of the confessional, do you say? God forbid that it should ever be broken where it has been fairly impressed; but it applies only to matters that have been confided84 to its keeping in a certain prescribed method, and by persons, moreover, who have faith in the sanctity of the ordinance. I hold myself, and any learned casuist of the Church would hold me, as free to disclose all the particulars of what you term your confession, as if they had come to my knowledge in a secular85 way.”
“This is not right, father!” said Hilda, fixing her eyes on the old man’s.
“Do not you see, child,” he rejoined, with some little heat, “with all your nicety of conscience, cannot you recognize it as my duty to make the story known to the proper authorities; a great crime against public justice being involved, and further evil consequences likely to ensue?”
“No, father, no!” answered Hilda, courageously86, her cheeks flushing and her eyes brightening as she spoke. “Trust a girl’s simple heart sooner than any casuist of your Church, however learned he may be. Trust your own heart, too! I came to your confessional, father, as I devoutly believe, by the direct impulse of Heaven, which also brought you hither to-day, in its mercy and love, to relieve me of a torture that I could no longer bear. I trusted in the pledge which your Church has always held sacred between the priest and the human soul, which, through his medium, is struggling towards its Father above. What I have confided to you lies sacredly between God and yourself. Let it rest there, father; for this is right, and if you do otherwise, you will perpetrate a great wrong, both as a priest and a man! And believe me, no question, no torture, shall ever force my lips to utter what would be necessary, in order to make my confession available towards the punishment of the guilty ones. Leave Providence to deal with them!”
“My quiet little countrywoman,” said the priest, with half a smile on his kindly old face, “you can pluck up a spirit, I perceive, when you fancy an occasion for one.”
“I have spirit only to do what I think right,” replied Hilda simply. “In other respects I am timorous87.”
“But you confuse yourself between right feelings and very foolish inferences,” continued the priest, “as is the wont88 of women,—so much I have learnt by long experience in the confessional,—be they young or old. However, to set your heart at rest, there is no probable need for me to reveal the matter. What you have told, if I mistake not, and perhaps more, is already known in the quarter which it most concerns.”
“Known!” exclaimed Hilda. “Known to the authorities of Rome! And what will be the consequence?”
“Hush!” answered the confessor, laying his finger on his lips. “I tell you my supposition—mind, it is no assertion of the fact—in order that you may go the more cheerfully on your way, not deeming yourself burdened with any responsibility as concerns this dark deed. And now, daughter, what have you to give in return for an old man’s kindness and sympathy?”
“My grateful remembrance,” said Hilda, fervently, “as long as I live!”
“And nothing more?” the priest inquired, with a persuasive89 smile. “Will you not reward him with a great joy; one of the last joys that he may know on earth, and a fit one to take with him into the better world? In a word, will you not allow me to bring you as a stray lamb into the true fold? You have experienced some little taste of the relief and comfort which the Church keeps abundantly in store for all its faithful children. Come home, dear child,—poor wanderer, who hast caught a glimpse of the heavenly light,—come home, and be at rest.”
“Father,” said Hilda, much moved by his kindly earnestness, in which, however, genuine as it was, there might still be a leaven90 of professional craft, “I dare not come a step farther than Providence shall guide me. Do not let it grieve you, therefore, if I never return to the confessional; never dip my fingers in holy water; never sign my bosom with the cross. I am a daughter of the Puritans. But, in spite of my heresy,” she added with a sweet, tearful smile, “you may one day see the poor girl, to whom you have done this great Christian kindness, coming to remind you of it, and thank you for it, in the Better Land.”
The old priest shook his head. But, as he stretched out his hands at the same moment, in the act of benediction91, Hilda knelt down and received the blessing with as devout a simplicity92 as any Catholic of them all.
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1
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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4
shafts
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| n.轴( shaft的名词复数 )；（箭、高尔夫球棒等的）杆；通风井；一阵（疼痛、害怕等） | |
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mosaic
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| n./adj.镶嵌细工的，镶嵌工艺品的，嵌花式的 | |
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misty
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| adj.雾蒙蒙的，有雾的 | |
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incense
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| v.激怒；n.香，焚香时的烟，香气 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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alloy
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| n.合金，(金属的)成色 | |
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celestial
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| adj.天体的；天上的 | |
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aspired
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hover
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| vi.翱翔，盘旋；徘徊；彷徨，犹豫 | |
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glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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vapor
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| n.蒸汽，雾气 | |
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devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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devoutly
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| adv.虔诚地，虔敬地，衷心地 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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disquieted
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| v.使不安，使忧虑，使烦恼( disquiet的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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elasticity
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| n.弹性，伸缩力 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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bestow
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| v.把…赠与，把…授予；花费 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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poignant
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| adj.令人痛苦的，辛酸的，惨痛的 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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auditor
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| n.审计员，旁听着 | |
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pro
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| n.赞成，赞成的意见，赞成者 | |
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paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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benignity
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| n.仁慈 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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48
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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49
saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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50
virgin
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| n.处女，未婚女子；adj.未经使用的；未经开发的 | |
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51
inscribed
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| v.写，刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 )；内接 | |
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52
gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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53
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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54
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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55
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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56
protruded
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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58
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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61
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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overflow
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| v.(使)外溢，(使)溢出；溢出，流出，漫出 | |
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63
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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64
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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65
mellowed
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| （使）成熟( mellow的过去式和过去分词 )； 使色彩更加柔和，使酒更加醇香 | |
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soothingly
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| adv.抚慰地，安慰地；镇痛地 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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68
magnetism
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| n.磁性，吸引力，磁学 | |
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69
entanglements
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| n.瓜葛( entanglement的名词复数 )；牵连；纠缠；缠住 | |
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70
impede
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，阻止 | |
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71
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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73
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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75
benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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77
elicit
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| v.引出,抽出,引起 | |
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78
repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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79
ordinance
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| n.法令；条令；条例 | |
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80
penitents
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| n.后悔者( penitent的名词复数 )；忏悔者 | |
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81
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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82
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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83
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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84
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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85
secular
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| n.牧师，凡人；adj.世俗的，现世的，不朽的 | |
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86
courageously
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| ad.勇敢地，无畏地 | |
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87
timorous
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| adj.胆怯的，胆小的 | |
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88
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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89
persuasive
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| adj.有说服力的，能说得使人相信的 | |
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90
leaven
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| v.使发酵；n.酵母；影响 | |
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91
benediction
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| n.祝福；恩赐 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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