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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 08, No. 49, November, 1861"

"
"And she sent for thee to shrive her?"
"My God!" said the young man, with an imploring, wild expression in his
dark eyes, "she did; but I would not go."
"Then Nature is still strong," said Father Johannes, pitilessly eying
the young man.
"When will it ever die?" said the stripling, with a despairing gesture;
"it heeds neither heaven nor hell."
"Well, patience, boy! if you have lost an earthly bride, you have gained
a heavenly one. The Church is our espoused in white linen. Bless the
Lord, without ceasing, for the exchange."
There was an inexpressible mocking irony in the tones in which this was
said, that made itself felt to the finely vitalized spirit of the youth,
though to all the rest it sounded like the accredited average pious talk
which is more or less the current coin of religious organizations.
Now no one knows through what wanton deviltry Father Johannes broached
this painful topic with the poor youth; but he had a peculiar faculty,
with his smooth tones and his sanctimonious smiles, of thrusting red-hot
needles into any wounds which he either knew or suspected under the
coarse woollen robes of his brethren. He appeared to do it in all
coolness, in a way of psychological investigation.


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