Thus was Edmond compelled to hear from strange lips his former thoughts detailed. He was so affected by the presence of the old man, that he felt himself compelled to discover to him what a zealous catholic he himself had once been and had but a short time previously turned to the Huguenot faith; he was silent, however, respecting his alliance with the Camisards, and the purpose for which he had descended into the valleys.
"It is easy to understand," answered the old man, "how lively minds in these troublous times forsake their party and seek on the opposite side, what is wanting to them; that love makes such attempts to become reconciled with itself, even though these attempts should fail. My dear, young friend, you recall to my mind by your confession, your countenance and presence my own past youth in the most lively colours, and I cannot refrain from exchanging confession for confession, confidence for confidence. I am indeed tempted to impart to you the history of my little limited life, that has almost only experienced emotions of the mind."
They seated themselves in an arbour, before which stood plantains entwined with vines, the green wooded mountains were open, and the murmuring of the brook resounded pleasingly through the solitude, while from to time to time, the bells of the village church on account of the festival on the morrow, rang out their monotonous and solemn tones.
"I come from the Netherlands," commenced the priest, "born of Huguenot parents, whom I lost at a very early period. My guardians, worldly-minded men, troubled themselves more about the preservation of my small fortune than of giving me a sound education, and therefore it happened that I was consigned to a tutor, with whom they, as well as myself, were very well pleased. He was a man of extensive information, who had also travelled much, and had resided a considerable time in London. As he was descended from a good family, and possessed himself some tact, he became acquainted with and acquired each day the confidence of many beaux esprits and of the courtiers here, and although his morals had not suffered as much as one might well have been led to fear, his religious principles at least, which may never have been very strong, were by this intercourse entirely stifled and destroyed. Knowledge, understanding were the most important to him, however he devoted himself with religious worship to poetry, as well as to the history of the ancient Greeks. No one could be more eloquent than he, when he enlarged upon these subjects. That these sentiments, as I was of a very lively disposition, should influence me, was very natural; my tutor seemed to me the most gifted of mortals, and his decisions were my oracles. Though I may still honour his memory, I must nevertheless censure as a weakness in what then certainly appeared to me his greatest forte, namely, his unwearied mockery of Christianity and of every religion; all others rather than the various sects of the Christian Church, found a release from his satires; the present, as well as the past, the history of the development, its mysteries, all was a subject of his derision, and the apostles, even the Saviour himself, were not spared by him, how much less Luther, or Calvin, and Zwingli, or even those so named mystics, who desire to form in themselves a peculiar spirit to recognise God. My mind had soon become so intimately connected with his, that I could not endure that there should be any religion for me on the earth, that any pious sentiments should ever arise in my heart. I had indeed my heroes of the former world, the Grecian antiquity, the high-minded Romans, in whose patriotism I glowed in dreams, the boundless fields of poetry with its gardens of wit and humour; and out of Sophocles and Eschylus, those dreamers of a world of spirits not understood, these seemed to me the most sublime objects that could ever have the power to shake my soul. In a short time I was honestly and truly ashamed of being a Christian, when I thought of the variegated world of fiction, of the ambiguous Grecian mythology, of those feasts and spectacles, lofty statues, and noble temples: Where then were the deliverer on the ignominious cross, and his impoverished disciples? how this faith of poverty and misfortune dwindled into nothing compared with those sacrifices and public parade, and the jubilee of the Pindaric hymns? neither did I reckon myself among the community, and the dullest day of my young, life, was that on which I was received into the church of our sect with the customary ceremonies. Each word seemed nonsense to me, all solemnity degradation, in anger only I responded to the questions, and while still in the church, I swore never again to visit it: A contradictory and foolish oath, which, however, I long observed. At a later period, when I reentered into the world, I remarked that all, who were called strong-minded, were either privately or publicly of my belief. All did not openly mock; the weak disapproved of this outrage, but only from the feeling of not making weak men err, or become unhappy, who though had nothing better themselves, or were not able to produce any thing but the old, miserable tale, that, without a connexion, one often contradicts the other. Many forcibly denied altogether the history of the Saviour, with others still worse, he was merely an unfortunate rebel, and to the best, a moral man, but who indeed, according to their views must be far inferior to Socrates, whose life was clearer, and whose doctrines seemed more comprehensible. Several of these free-thinkers, to whom the catholic church was a stumbling block, and who, that they might not be considered as antichristians, turned all the strength of their mind, under pretext of protecting the protestant freedom, to tear to atoms and to disfigure their catholic brethren, the history of the church, spiritual and temporal ordinances, in the most barbarous manner: thus behind this rampart, they imagined under false names, to be able to annihilate Christianity itself, for this it was which was hateful to them, not this, or that party. All this was very evident to me, and I lent my aid as much as my limited power would permit. I arrived at the age of maturity, and my opinions only became still more deeply rooted. I travelled, I saw the world, but only on the side, which confirmed my prejudices. If I met with pious enlightened Christians, they appeared to me only as strange disordered spirits, worthy of remark perhaps, of pity assuredly. In a German town I took out of sheer insolence the book of a German mystic from the library to my own dwelling, that I might for want of better amusement, divert myself in the spirit of derision with the madness of the absurd and the foolish. Unconsciously, I had brought the fire-brand into my house, which soon set in flames all this edifice of pride and worldly impiety. I turned over the leaves, read and laughed, read again and found the puerility at least poetical. The book left me no rest, I felt as it were attracted to it, it tortured me, and to my shame I was soon forced to confess to myself, that it contained connexion, strength, and spirit, that it instructed me, and that gardens, flowers, and trees of love bloomed, where I had only seen a waste desert. The presentiment seized me, that another God might rule the universe than he, whom in my enthusiastic views of nature, or in my poetical inspirations, I had been willing to discover, or to acknowledge in the vortex of frivolity.
"My mind much affected, after some weeks of anxiety and meditation, longed ardently to read the Holy Scriptures. None of my numerous acquaintances, even such as were book collectors, or who possessed extensive libraries, had this book in their households. I felt ashamed, that I too had never required it. From that time this treasure became my faithful companion on my travels. I read in solitary and consecrated moments, and experienced what every thirsty one feels, who is susceptible of humiliation, in whom the utter sense of helplessness is not entirely extinct, which, indeed, is so indispensably necessary before the spiritual word can take root in the uncultivated heart. Faith! this so often disputed, attacked and variously explained word. Oh! who has experienced it, in whom it has arisen with its strength, he will not dispute it. I could not withdraw myself from the revelation, the faith, so triumphantly did the words, the images, the language of the gospel glittering in the splendour of arms pierce through my soul, and all my energies became the prisoners of eternal love, and were now happy and blessed in the service, in the sweet slavery. My former rebellion against the Lord appeared to me mean and despicable, and my contempt turned from its course, no longer understood the folly of its early wisdom. Many indeed imagine, that faith, humility, and unbounded trust in the Lord, are nothing else than killing our energies, nay the faculty of thinking, and consequently withdraw in anger or in trembling from that work of regeneration, which, nevertheless speaks sometimes from afar indirectly to their insensible hearts. Unhappy men! This so much dreaded faith would first elevate their capacities to energies and kindle new lights and flames in their spirits. Without him, the revealed Christ, no sense in profound thought, no spirit in history, no consolation in nature and no peculiarity in our existence. Art, love, humour, who possesses him, they are then free play-fellows. How joyous, sweet, yea intoxicating and full of merriment, cheerful, and smiling does Christianity appear through all the genuine works of modern art, how blessed and pleasing are they, when in the greatness and fulness of the old world, yet like a spirit of gentle melancholy that passes away as the cloud, momentarily over the beautiful landscape in the brilliancy of spring." The old man paused, and Edmond said: "Oh! how willingly I listen to you, and remember all the sentiments and vicissitudes of my stormy youth."
"What I had before rejected," continued the priest, "now became the most urgent want of my soul, for I felt, how much a christian congregation, in unison together, must strengthen and elevate the individual. I visited the church therefore and wished to join in the worship of my sect. But whether it was that my mind was too much agitated, or that I had perhaps fallen on the wrong one, it appeared to me that every where the church overreached itself by preaching. All preferred their own explanations, and their close reasoning philosophy to the word of the Lord, they were all ashamed of Christ and denied him in artfully spun phrases, they misinterpreted him, merely that they might bring him nearer to their own weak necessities, as if he and his disciples must be subservient to their enlightened times, as servants and sextons of the church. I knew well, that every believing auditor and layman must be a priest himself to be able by his own power to transform the worthless into the good, but all my vital energies sank in the midst of that which surrounded me; the shrill singing stunned me, and the whole left a void and almost brought me back again to the state of a despairing infidel. It was certainly unreasonable on my part to require that all should partake of the intoxication of my newly planted vineyard. I was now compelled to feel, that fanaticism, and stepping beyond the limits was yet worse than remaining cold and apathetic below the mark. I continued my travels, and quarrelled on the way with my companion, already an old acquaintance, who neither could, or would not share in all my feelings. Thus we arrived at Nismes; there my destiny ordained, that I should long remain, in order that my whole life fully aroused should be determined and resolved. My companion, a certain Lacoste, introduced me to a house, where new feelings awaited me, to torture as much as to bless me."
"Lacoste!" exclaimed Edmond, "should he, perhaps--but proceed my venerable friend, I may be mistaken."
"My former friend," pursued the priest, "was tall and robust, a handsome man in every sense of the word, feeling and kind, but frivolous, and as far from every religion, as I had been a short time previously. This friend introduced me to the family of a worthy magistrate, which soon, as the good man and his excellent wife received me so hospitably, became my daily abode. They had a son, an amiable youth whose enthusiasm quickly procured him my confidence, for just as much as Lacoste disputed all religious principles, young Beauvais warmly cherished them, voluntary lived in and for religion: he was the most zealous defender of his Catholic party, that I have ever been acquainted with."
"Heavens!" exclaimed Edmond, "you are then, venerable man, the Edmond Watelet, of whom I have so often heard the Counsellor of Parliament speak, as the favourite friend of his youth?"
A long pause ensued.--"It is indeed so," said the aged priest wiping away his tears, "the young enthusiastic Beauvais must now be an old man; I too though am become old! Aye, truly, there is a period which our heart refuses to believe, it is that alone which exalts the life of each one of us to a strange fiction, to a wonderful tale. He is still living then? ah, my dear Chevalier, you are yourself very like him. That is the spell, which so inseparably bound me to you."