Purgatory: Doctrinal, Historical, and Poetical Part 35

"It was in a dream."

"Where is your body now?"

"In my bed."

"Knowest thou well that thou now seest nothing with the eyes of the body?"

"I know it."

"With what eyes, then, dost thou see me?"

As the physician hesitated, and could not answer, the young man said to him:

"Even as thou seest and hearest me, now that thine eyes are closed and thy senses benumbed, so, after thy death, thou shalt live, thou shalt see, thou shalt hear--but with the organs of the soul. Doubt, then, no more!"

ST. THOMAS AQUINAS AND FRIAR ROMa.n.u.s.

WE are about to treat of facts concerning which our fathers never had any hesitation, because they had faith. Nowadays, the truths which are above the material sight have been so roughly handled that they are much diminished for us. And if the goodness of G.o.d had not allowed some rays of the mysteries which He reserves for Himself to escape, if some gleams of magnetism and the world of spirits occupying the air around us had not a little embarra.s.sed those of our literati who make a merit of not believing, we would hardly dare, in spite of the grave authorities on which they rest, to represent here some apparitions of souls departed from this world. We shall venture to do so, nevertheless.

One day, when St. Thomas Aquinas was praying in the Church of the Friars, Preachers, at Naples, the pious friar Roma.n.u.s, whom he had left in Paris, where he replaced him in the chair of Theology, suddenly appeared beside him. Thomas, seeing him, said:

"I am glad of thine arrival. But how long hast thou been here?"

Roma.n.u.s answered: "I am now out of this world. Nevertheless, I am permitted to come to thee, because of thy merit."

The Saint, alarmed at this reply, after a moment's recollection, said to the apparition: "I adjure thee, by Our Lord Jesus Christ, tell me simply if my works are pleasing to G.o.d!"

Roma.n.u.s replied: "Persevere in the way in which thou art, and believe that what thou doest is agreeable unto G.o.d."

Thomas then asked him in what state he found himself.

"I enjoy eternal life," answered Roma.n.u.s. "Nevertheless, for having carelessly executed one clause of a will which the Bishop of Paris gave me in charge, I underwent for fifteen days the pains of Purgatory."

St. Thomas again said: "You remind me that we often discussed the question whether the knowledge acquired in this life remain in the soul after death. I pray you give me the solution thereof."

Roma.n.u.s made answer: "Ask me not that. As for me, I am content with seeing my G.o.d."

"Seest thou him face to face?" went on Thomas.

"Just as we have been taught," replied Roma.n.u.s, "and as I see thee."

With these words he left St. Thomas greatly consoled.

THE KEY THAT NEVER TURNS.

ELEANOR C. DONNELLY.

"In Purgatory, dear," I said to-day, Unto my pet, "the fire burns and burns, Until each ugly stain is burned away--And then an Angel turns A great, bright key, and forth the glad soul springs Into the presence of the King of kings."

"But in that other prison?" "Sweetest love! The same fierce fire burns and burns, but thence None e'er escapes." The blue eyes, raised above, Were fair with innocence. "Poor burning souls!" she whispered low, "ah me! No Angel ever comes to turn _their_ key!"

THE BURIAL.

THOMAS DAVIS.

"ULULU! ululu! wail for the dead, Green grow the gra.s.s of Fingal on his head; And spring-flowers blossom, ere elsewhere appearing, And shamrocks grow thick on the martyr for Erin.

Ululu! ululu! soft fall the dew On the feet and the head of the martyred and true."

For a while they tread In silence dread-- Then muttering and moaning go the crowd, Surging and swaying like mountain cloud, And again the wail comes wild and loud.

"Ululu! ululu! kind was his heart!

Walk slower, walk slower, too soon we shall part.

The faithful and pious, the Priest of the Lord, His pilgrimage over, he has his reward.

"By the bed of the sick, lowly kneeling, To G.o.d with the raised cross appealing-- He seems still to kneel, and he seems still to pray, And the sins of the dying seem pa.s.sing away.

"In the prisoner's cell, and the cabin so dreary, Our constant consoler, he never grew weary; But he's gone to his rest, And he's now with the blest, Where tyrant and traitor no longer molest-- Ululu! ululu! wail for the dead!

Ululu! ululu! here is his bed."

Short was the ritual, simple the prayer, Deep was the silence, and every head bare; The Priest alone standing, they knelt all around, Myriads on myriads, like rocks on the ground.

Kneeling and motionless.-- "Dust unto dust."

"He died as becometh the faithful and just-- Placing in G.o.d his reliance and trust;"

Kneeling and motionless-- "Ashes to ashes"-- Hollow the clay on the coffin-lid dashes; Kneeling and motionless, wildly they pray, But they pray in their souls, for no gesture have they-- Stern and standing--oh! look on them now!

Like trees to one tempest the mult.i.tude bow.

HYMN FOR THE DEAD.

NEWMAN.

Help, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made, The souls to Thee so dear, In prison, for the debt unpaid Of sins committed here.

Those holy souls, they suffer on,

Resign'd in heart and will, Until Thy high behest is done, And justice has its fill.

For daily falls, for pardon'd crime, They joy to undergo The shadow of Thy cross sublime, The remnant of Thy woe.

Help, Lord, the souls which Thou hast made, The souls to Thee so dear, In prison, for the debt unpaid Of sins committed here.

Oh! by their patience of delay, Their hope amid their pain, Their sacred zeal to burn away Disfigurement and stain; Oh! by their fire of love, not less In keenness than the flame, Oh! by their very helplessness, Oh! by Thy own great Name,

Good Jesu, help! sweet Jesu, aid The souls to Thee most dear, In prison, for the debt unpaid Of sins committed here.