“Because I saw them, I saw those frightful faces,” escaped from Don Abbondio. “I heard those horrible words. Your illustrious worship talks well, but you should have been in the place of your poor priest, and have had the same thing happen to you.”
No sooner had he uttered these words than he bit his tongue, perceiving that he had suffered himself to be overcome by vexation; he muttered in a low voice, “Now for the storm!” and raising his eyes timidly, he was astonished to see the cardinal, whom he never could comprehend, pass from the severe air of authority and rebuke, to that of a soft and pensive gravity.
“It is but too true,” said Frederick. “Such is our terrible and miserable condition! We exact rigorously from others, that which it may be we would not be willing to render ourselves; we judge, correct, and reprimand, and God alone knows what we would do in the same situation, what we have done in similar situations. But, woe be to me, if I take my weakness for the measure of another’s duty, for the rule of my instruction! Nevertheless it is certain, that while imparting precepts, I should also afford an example to my neighbour, and not resemble the pharisee, who imposes on others enormous burthens, which he himself would not so much as touch with his finger. Hear me then, my son, my brother; the errors of those in authority, are oftener better known to others than to themselves; if you know that I have, from cowardice, or respect to the opinions of men, neglected any part of my duty, tell me of it frankly, so that where I have failed in example, I may at least not be wanting in humble confession. Show me freely my weakness, and then words from my mouth will be more available, because you will be conscious that they do not proceed from me, but that they are the words of Him who can give to us both the necessary strength to do what He prescribes.”
“Oh! what a holy man, but what a troublesome one!” thought Don Abbondio. “He censures himself, and wishes that I should examine, criticise, and control even his actions!” He continued aloud,—“Oh! my lord jests, surely! Who does not know the courage and indefatigable zeal of your illustrious lordship?” “Yes,” added he to himself, “by far too indefatigable!”
“I do not desire praise that makes me tremble, because God knows my imperfections, and what I know of them myself is sufficient to humble me. But I would desire that we should humble ourselves together; I would desire that you should feel what your conduct has been, and that your language is opposed to the law you preach, and according to which you will be judged.”
“All turns against me. But these persons who have told your lordship these things, have they not also told you that they introduced themselves treacherously into my house, for the purpose of compelling me to perform the marriage ceremony, in a manner unauthorised by the church?”
“They have told me, my son; but what afflicts and depresses me, is to see you still seeking excuses; still excusing yourself by accusing others; still accusing others of that which should have formed a part of your own confession. Who placed these unfortunates, I do not say under the necessity, but under the temptation, to do what they have? Would they have sought this irregular method, if the legitimate way had not been closed to them? Would they have thought of laying snares for their pastor, if they had been received, aided, and advised by him? of surprising him, if he had not concealed himself? And you wish to make them bear the blame; and you are indignant that, after so many misfortunes, what do I say? in the very midst of misfortune, they have suffered a word of complaint to escape before their pastor and yours? that the complaints of the oppressed and the afflicted should be hateful to the world, is not astonishing; but to us! and what advantage would their silence have been to you? Would you have been the gainer from their cause having been committed entirely to the judgment of God? Is it not an additional reason to love them, that they have afforded you the occasion to hear the sincere voice of your pastor; that they have provided for you the means to understand more clearly, and quite as far as may be in your power, the great debt you have contracted to them? Ah! if they had even been the aggressors, I would tell you to love them for that very reason. Love them, because they have suffered, and do suffer; love them, because they are a part of your flock, because you yourself have need of pardon and of their prayers.”
Don Abbondio kept silence, but no longer from vexation, and an unwillingness to be persuaded; he kept silence from having more things to think of than to say. The words which he heard were unexpected conclusions, a new application of familiar doctrine. The evil done to his neighbour, which apprehension on his own account had hitherto prevented him from beholding in its true light, now made a novel and striking impression on his mind. If he did not feel all the remorse which the cardinal’s remonstrances were calculated to produce, he experienced at least secret dissatisfaction with himself and pity for others; a blending of tenderness and shame; as, if we may be permitted to use the comparison, a humid and crushed taper at first hisses and smokes, but by degrees receives warmth, and imparts light, from the flame of a great torch to which it is presented. Don Abbondio would have loudly accused himself, and deplored his conduct, had not the idea of Don Roderick still obtruded itself into his thoughts; however, his feeling was sufficiently apparent to convince the cardinal that his words had at last produced some effect.
“Now,” pursued Frederick, “one of these unfortunate beings is a fugitive afar off, the other on the point of departure; both have but too much reason to keep asunder, without any present probability of being re-united. Now, alas! they have no need of you; now, alas! you have no longer the opportunity to do them good, and our short foresight can assure us of but little of the future. But who knows, if God in his compassion is not preparing the occasion for you? Ah! do not let it escape; seek it, watch for it, implore it as a blessing.”
“I shall not fail, my lord—I shall not fail to do so, I assure you,” replied Don Abbondio, in a tone that came from the heart.