The Vale of Cedars; Or, The Martyr

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by Grace Aguilar


  CHAPTER XXXI.

  "I have lost for that Faith more than thou canst bestow, As the God who permits thee to prosper doth know. In His hand is my heart, and my hope; and in thine The land, and the life, which for Him I resign."

  BYRON.

  Marie Morales had had many trials. Her life had been one of thosepainful mysteries, as to why such a being should have been thusexposed to scorn, which while on earth we vainly try to solve. Yet itis no imaginary picture: hundreds, aye thousands, of Israel's devotedrace have thus endured; in every age, in every clime, have beenexposed to martyrdom--not of the frame alone, but of the heart; doomedbut to suffer, and to die. And how may we reconcile these things withthe government of a loving father, save by the firm belief, which,blessed--thrice blessed--are those who feel; that, for such suffererson earth, a future of blessedness is laid up in another and lovelierworld--where there is no more sorrow, no more tears!

  Her former trials had been sharp agony and strong excitement. Herpresent had neither the one nor the other; yet it was fraught with asheavy suffering, as any that had gone before it; even though she knewnot, guessed not, _all_ that depended upon her conversion. It wouldhave been comparatively easy to have endured, for her faith's sake,harshness and contempt; in such a case, self-respect rises to sustainus, and we value our own tenets the more, from their startlingcontrast with those which could command the cruelty we endure; butFather Denis used harshness neither of manner nor of words. Firmlyimpressed in his own mind, that it was utterly vain for a soul to hopefor salvation unless it believed in Jesus, the Virgin, the saints andholy martyrs; he brought heart and soul to his task; and the more hesaw of Marie, the more painfully did he deplore her blind infatuation,and the more ardently desire, to save her from the eternalperdition which, as a Jewess, must await her. He poured forth suchsoul-breathing petitions, for saving grace to be vouchsafed to her, inher hearing, that Marie felt as if she would have given worlds, onlyto realize the belief for which he prayed; but the more her heart waswrung, the more vividly it seemed that her own faith, the religion ofher fathers through a thousand ages, impressed itself upon her mindand heart, rendering it more and more impossible for her to forswearit, even at the very moment that weak humanity longed to do it, and sopurchase peace. Naturally so meek and yielding, so peculiarly aliveto the voice of sympathy and kindness, it was inexpressibly andharrowingly distressing to be thus compelled to resist both; to thinkalso of all Isabella's gentle, cherishing, and manifested affection;and to know that the only return she demanded, she dared not, mightnot give. To some dispositions these considerations would have been ofno weight whatever; to Marie they were so exquisitely painful, thatshe could scarcely understand how it was that, feeling them thusacutely, she could yet so clearly, so calmly, reply to Father Denis,bring argument for argument, and never waver in her steadfastadherence to, and belief in her own creed. The very lessons of heryouth, which she had thought forgotten in the varied trials whichhad been her portion since, returned with full--she fanciedsuperhuman--force and clearness to her mind, rendering even the verywish to embrace the Catholic religion, futile. There was a voicewithin her that _would_ be heard, aye above every human feeling, everystrong temptation. She could not drown its clear ringing tones; evenwhere her mental sufferings seemed to cloud and harrow up the brain,to the exclusion of every distinct idea, that voice would breathe itsthrilling whisper, telling her it was vain to hope it, she could notbe in heart a Catholic; and so she dared not be in words.

  A romance is no place for polemical discussion, and we will thereforeleave those painful arguments unrecorded. Suffice it, that Marie'sintimate acquaintance with the Holy Scriptures in their originaltongue--the language of her own people--gave her so decided anadvantage over the old monk, that, after nearly three months' trial,he sought his Sovereign, and, with the most touching humility,acknowledged his utter incapacity, for the conversion of Donna Marie,and implored her to dismiss him, and select one more fitted for thetask.

  Astonished, and bitterly disappointed, Isabella cross-questioned himas to the cause of this sudden feeling of incapacity, and his answersbut increased her desire to compel Marie to abandon Judaism, andbecome--in semblance at least, a Catholic; believing fully that, thisaccomplished, the Holy Spirit would do the rest, and she would atleast have saved her soul. She retained the father in the palace;desiring him to inform his charge that one fortnight's grace would beallowed her, to ponder on all the solemn truths he had advanced, andon her own decision whether she would not rather yield to kindness,than tempt the severity her obstinacy demanded; but, save thisenjoyment, he was to commune with her no further. With a tremblingspirit the Queen again sought the counsel of her confessor, andreported the information of the holy father. Torquemada listened, witha curling lip and contracted brow. He was not surprised, he said,for it was exactly what he had expected. It was a part of theirblaspheming creed, to blind by sorcery, the eyes and minds of allthose who had ever attempted to win them over by kind and reasonableargument. Father Denis had been bewitched, as all were, who everattempted to convert, by other than the harshest means. Her grace mustsee the necessity of severity, and surely could not refuse the usingit any longer. But Isabella did refuse, till her last resource hadbeen tried; and all she asked was, if she might hold forth a powerfultemporal temptation to obtain the end she so earnestly desired?Torquemada hesitated; but at length, on being told the severealternative which Isabella would enforce, if her first proposal wererejected, reluctantly acceded; still persisting that nothing but therack and the flame, or fatal expulsion, would ever purge Spain fromthe horrible infection of so poisonous a race. Isabella heard him witha shudder; but, thankful even for this ungracious sanction, waited,with, trembling impatience, the termination of the given fourteendays; hoping, aye praying in her meek, fervid piety, that the mistakenone might be softened to accept the proffered grace, or her own heartstrengthened to sacrifice all of personal feeling for the purifying byfire and consequent salvation, of that immortal soul now so fearfullyled astray.

  It was with little hope that the father again sought Marie. Bewitchedhe might be, but he was so impressed with the fervid earnestnessof her gentle spirit; with the lofty enthusiasm that dictated herdecision; so touched with the uncomplaining, but visible suffering,which it cost her to argue with, and reject the voice ofkindness--that it required a strong mental effort in the old man, torefrain from conjuring his Sovereign, to permit that misguided oneto remain unmolested, and wait, till time, and prayer, from those sointerested in her, should produce the desired effect. But this feelingwas so contrary to the spirit of the age, that it scarcely neededTorquemada's representations to convince him, that he was experiencingthe effect of the invisible sorcery with which the race of Israelalways blinded the eyes of their opponents. The kind old man was awedand silenced by his stern superior. Liberty of conscience was then athing unheard of; and therefore it was, that so much of the divinepart of our mingled nature was so completely concealed, that it lostalike effect or influence. It was not even the subjection of the weakto the strong; but the mere superiority of clerical rank. The truestand the noblest, the most enlarged mind, the firmest spirit wouldbend unresistingly to the simple word of a priest; and the purestand kindest impulses of our holier nature be annihilated, before thedictates of those, who were supposed to hold so infallibly, in theirsole keeping, the oracles of God. The spiritual in man was kept inrigid bondage; the divinity worshipped by the Catholics of that age,represented to the mass like the Egyptian idol, with a key upon hislips--his attributes, as his law, hid from them, or imparted by chosenpriests, who explained them only as suited their individual purposes.Is it marvel, then, that we should read of such awful acts committedin Religion's name by man upon his brother? or that we should see thepurest and loveliest characters led away by priestly influence tocommit deeds, from which now, the whole mind so recoils, that we turnaway disappointed and perplexed at the inconsistency, and refuse themeed of love and admiration to those other qualities, whic
h wouldotherwise shine forth so unsullied? The inconsistency, the seemingcruelty and intolerance, staining many a noble one in the middle ages,were the effects of the fearful spirit of the time; but their virtueswere their own. Truth if sought, must triumph over prejudice. Byinspection and earnest study of facts--of _causes_, as well as of_events_, the mind disperses the mists of educational error, andenables us to do justice, even to the injurer; and enlarges andennobles our feelings towards one another; till we can attain thatperfection of true, spiritual charity, which would look on all men aschildren of one common parent. Liable, indeed, to be led astray byevil inclination, and yet more by evil circumstances; but still ourbrethren, in the divine part of our nature; which, however crushed,hidden, lost to earth, is still existing--still undying. For such isthe immortal likeness of our universal Father; in which He made man,and by which He marked mankind as brethren!

  Marie's answer was as Father Denis feared. She had pondered on allhe had said, and the dread alternative awaiting her; but theimpossibility of embracing Catholicism was stronger than ever. Theunfeigned distress of the old monk pained and alarmed her, for itseemed to her as if he were conscious that some dreadful doom washanging over her, which he shrunk from revealing. She had not long toremain in that torturing suspense: a few hours later in the same day,she was summoned to Isabella's presence. The sensation of terror wasso intense as to render obedience, for the minute, utterly impossible.Every limb shook, and again came the wild longing for power to believeas they desired; for a momentary cessation of the voice of conscience,to embrace the proffered cross, and be at rest. But it _would not_cease; and, scarcely able to support herself, she stood before thedread Princess in whose hand was her earthly fate.

 

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