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Show Feats With a Mass-Book. Kunning through the latest "novel magazine." I came across a "first story" with which the censor has "no serious fault to find.". It is an Italian story. A priest is brought on the scene. He, of course, is dubbed a "padre," just as if he were a mere Jesuit or a Protestant Protest-ant military chaplain. Let it pass. P.ut now, how about this? "The priest, who had just come out from the inner room, one linger inserted between the leaves of his mass-book. . . ." And how about this: "The good 'padre' had only time to slip his mass-book into his pocket"? poc-ket"? And the editor of the "novel magazine'' has "no serious fault to find" with this rubbish! Can you imagine a priest walking about the streets with a huge book, a folio volume, possibly bound in pigskin and bearing heavy clasps and corner-pieces, corner-pieces, "one linger inserted between the leaves"? Can yon? Then it will not cost you the slightest effort to conjure up a picture of that priest slipping that folio into his cassock pocket. It is more than I can do. for it is simply an inconceivable in-conceivable feat. When will Protestants tear away the veil with which their governors and tutors, grandmothers, ministers and Sunday school teachers have covered their faces? When will they use their eyes and their ears and their judgment yes, their private judgment and see their Catholic neighbors as they are? When will non-Catholic novelists and journalists make themselves acquainted with the a'phabct of Catholic customs, tenets, and ritual before they write about us? This contemptuous disregard of the details which make up the right imaginative setting of a Catholic and Italian story is to my mind a very serious seri-ous fault, though it must be borne with. I suppose, in those whose only chance of salvation lies, it seems to me, in their inconceivable ignorance. Sacerdos in Liverpool Times. WORLD'S OLDEST PRIEST. Canon Gadenne, Now in His One Hundred and Fourth Year, Ordered His Tombstone Twenty-nine Years Ago. Sometime when all life's lessons have been learned. And sun and stars forever more have set. The things which our weak judgments here have spurned The things o'er which Ave grieved Avith lashes Avet. Will flash before us and in life's dark night, As stars shine most in deeper tints of blue; And we shall see how all God's plans were right And what most seemed reproof was love most true. And we shall see how while we frown and sigh, God's plans go on as best for you and me How when we called He heeded not our cry Because His wisdom to the end could see; And e'en as prudent parents disallow-Too disallow-Too much of sweets for craving babyhood. ba-byhood. o God perhaps is keeping from us now Life's' sweetest things because it seemeth good. And you shall shortly know that lengthened breath Is not the sweetest gift God sends His friend. And that sometimes the sable pall of death Conceals the fairest boon His love can send. If we could push ajar the gates of life. And stand Avithin and all God's workings see. We would interpret all this doubt and strife And' for each mystery find there a key. But not today. There, be content, poor hearts! God's plans like lilies pure and white unfold; We must not tear the close'-shut leaves anart. Time will reveal the calyxes of gold: And if through patient toil we reach the land Where tired feet Avith sandals loosed may rest. Where Ave shall clearly know and understand un-derstand I think that Ave shall sav "God knew the best." |
