The Galley-Slave. too little to be able to do anything for themselves. Thus they are now in the deepest poverty. Hunger and want are consuming their lives. And all this is due to my wicked and godless conduct! I am the murderer of my father, the murderer of my wife and children! Oh that I at least were free now! I would work from early dawn till late at night in the sweat of my brow to earn their daily bread for my family. And perhaps it would not be too late! Perhaps I could save them from death by starvation, and protect them from the extreme of misery. But that is impossible. For two years longer must I bear the punishment of my crime. During that time my wife and children must infallibly perish. It is this which crushes me to the earth, so that I feel ready to despair in my misery. And here no word from man, no word from God, can comfort me. How gladly would I endure much harder punishment, even death itself, if thereby I could save my wife and dear children from destruction!' 'No, not death, not death!' replied the priest; 'rather ask the good God to grant you a long life to atone as much as possible for the evil you have done. But,' he now continued, 'did you not say, my son, that you must pass two more years at the galleys?' Yes,' replied the unhappy man; 'two long, terrible long years. And in this period my wife and my children might perish ten times It is this which drives me almost to despair.' over. Is it possible that the king would pardon you?' asked the clergyman. 'Never!' replied the prisoner: 'the petition of a galley-slave has never yet reached the Royal throne. And before the request of another in my favour could be presented to the king, my wife and children would long since have perished.' The merciful priest did not answer a word. Immersed in deep thought, he silently walked up and down for some time. At last he remained standing before the prisoner, and asked him, 'If now any one could be found, my son, who would take your place, have your chains riveted on to him, and perform your work for you, would your freedom then be restored to you?' 'Instantly!' replied the galley-slave; and his eyes sparkled with great joy. But his face immediately after became gloomy and sad, and he said in a desponding tone, Fool that I was to think for a single moment of such a thing! Where, indeed, in the whole wide world could a man be found who would voluntarily choose this life with its sorrow and its shame ?' He The priest had not heeded these last words of the prisoner. had turned and gone away from him. With sorrowful look the galleyslave gazed after the man, who alone during the four years of his imprisonment had addressed him in words of compassion and love. It pained him deeply that the stranger had gone away without saying farewell. He did not know what he could have done to offend him, and he went back sadly to his work. But the priest went and announced himself to the governor of the prison, who had been described to him as a kind and benevolent man. Governor,' he said to him, 'you don't know me; my name is Vincent, or, if you wish to know my full name, it is Vincent de Paule.' 'What!' exclaimed the governor, in amazement, 'you are the The Galley-Slave. priest Vincent de Paule? You are the man of God who, without taking any rest or repose, travels about everywhere to do good to the poor? You are the man who penetrates the gloomy dens of misery and poverty to bring comfort and help? You are the man who, though so poor, is yet so rich in mercy and kind deeds for your brethren? You are the same Vincent who bore the chains of slavery in Tunis?' 'I am, indeed,' replied Vincent: but, he added, I deserve nothing less than those praises which you have just expressed. Yet I rejoice that you know me; I hope, therefore, that my request will be favourably received by you, and if it is possible, granted.' 'Speak, Reverend Sir,' said the governor; 'I will readily do all that is in my power to prove my esteem for your noble conduct and many good works.' เ 6 You have,' said Vincent, among the galley-slaves a young man from Hyères, named Armand. What character do you give of this prisoner ?' 'A good one in every respect,' replied the officer. Armand belongs to the few prisoners who do not become worse at the galleys, but really better. In the four years he has been with us, never has the slightest complaint been made against him. He performs the work allotted to him, often the most degrading and arduous, readily and industriously, and bears his sad fate with all humility and patience.' 'This character,' continued the priest, 'gives me courage to make known my request to you. Armand has still two years' imprisonment to undergo. He has just told me, that unless help is brought them his wife and children must perish of starvation. But no one can help them so well as the unfortunate husband and father himself. He can and will work to save his family and to provide for them. But to do this he must be free. I am told that a prisoner can at once be set at liberty if a substitute can be found for him. Is this true?' Decidedly it is true,' replied the governor; the law allows a galley-slave on this condition to be set at liberty. But hitherto such a substitution has never happened, and it is not likely that it ever will.' 'Yes, yes!' exclaimed Vincent; I have found some one who will take the prisoner's place. As far as I know he is a blameless man, at least in the opinion of men. Will Armand be set at liberty the moment that this substitute presents himself ?' 'At once, Reverend Sir,' answered the governor. But where is the man who would of his own free will take upon himself such shame and degradation?' 'I am he,' replied the priest calmly, and then continued: Do not speak any more to me about it. My decision is so firm and serious that nothing you could do would shake it. Believe me, that one who has borne the chains of slavery in Tunis does not shrink from the fetters of a galley-slave.' But your honour?' exclaimed the officer. Have you reflected, too, that ten years of slavery could not outweigh the tenth part of the disgrace which the chain of a galley-slave brings upon a man in one single hour?' My honour!' said the priest, smiling. Leave that to me! I do not ask for honour before men; and if I should lose it, the happiness The Galley-Slave. and bliss of the rescued family would, in my eyes, make up for it a thousand-fold.' The governor wanted to make further objections, but Vincent de Paule was inexorable. At last nothing further remained for him to do than to summon the galley-smith, and, with him and the priest, to proceed to the galley where Armand was. 'You are free, my son!' Vincent cried out to the prisoner; a substitute has been found for you.' The galley-slave at first could not trust his ears when he heard these tidings. But when the smith, by the governor's command, really struck off his chains, and these fell clinking to the ground, a blissful ecstasy passed through his soul. And when he was really freed from his fetters he sank on his knees and wept like a child, so overwhelming was his joy. But now suddenly, and with dismay, he saw that the priest was holding out his hand and foot, and that the smith was riveting his chains on to the saintly man! 'No! no! For God's sake, no!' exclaimed Armand, trembling. 'You are about to take my place yourself, Reverend Sir? Never! At this price I will not purchase my freedom. Smith, forge my chains on me again !' 'You do not wish to destroy my pleasure, surely?' said the venerable man of God to him, with a kindly smile; to me these chains will be lighter than they were to you. And the mission which my God has given me to perform I can fulfil here in the galleys, perhaps even better than elsewhere.' 'Noble, great, and generous man!' amazement, and with stammering voice. you to such a sacrifice ?' exclaimed the prisoner in 'What can have impelled 'Love to that Saviour in Whose service I stand,' replied Vincent de Paule. If I were to suffer and die ten times over for you, it would be nothing in comparison with what He bore and suffered on the Cross for you and for me. And now delay no longer, my son! Hasten to your sick wife and your hungry children! May God be with you, and may He bless the work of your hands!' For a long time the freed galley-slave stood hesitatingly, not knowing what to do. But his desire for that liberty of which he had been so long deprived, and which was now restored to him, as well as his eager longing to help his wife and children, at last won the victory. He threw himself on the ground, embraced the knees of the venerable priest, and kissed his hand, which he moistened with his tears. Then he exclaimed, Above is the book of life; if God does not reject me, you shall never once find my name out of it. There, by the throne of the Saviour, shall I thank you, and He will repay you for what you have done to me!' With these words he arose and hastened away. We will not enlarge upon the happiness and joy which returned to Armand's cottage when the prisoner so unexpectedly returned. Amid many tears he implored his wife to pardon him for all his sins against her; she forgave him with all her heart. Henceforth he became the faithful father of his family, for whom he worked with unwearied diligence. Soon want and distress vanished from his cottage. His wife recovered beneath his loving care. Joy and happiness again returned to his roof, and the fear and peace of God dwelt in his house and in Consolations in Bereavement. his heart. The noble priest endured the two years' servitude on the galleys calmly and faithfully. Outwardly he was bound with chains and covered with infamy, but inwardly he was still a free child of God, and worthy of the highest honour. To the poor prisoners during this whole time he was a faithful teacher and a kind comforter. And when after two years he left the galleys, many an eye gazed after him with tears of gratitude. In the world above it will be made clear and plain what blessings in his chains and bonds he wrought by his selfsacrificing, paternal love. This was Vincent de Paule. He was born 24th April, 1576, at Pony, in France. This man of God devoted his whole life to the love of his Saviour and his brethren, and abundantly fulfilled the words of the Lord, To the poor shall the gospel be preached.' He died 27th September, 1660, at the advanced age of 84. He was a true and devoted follower of that Saviour Who bore the chains and bands of a whole world of sinners, and thus restored liberty to the captives and set the prisoners free. The Roman Catholic Church honours him as a saint, and churches are dedicated in France to his memory. He was the father of Missions as well as the institutor of those noble bands of good women called 'Sisters of Charity.' By all Christians the memory of this good and devoted servant of God will be ever held in esteem and reverence. J. F. C. Consolations in Bereavement. DEATH was full urgent with thee, sister dear, It was His deed alone; Reproach on our poor selves that thou Death urged, as scant of time; lest, sister dear, We many a lingering day Had sickened with alternate hope and fear The ague of delay, Watching each spark Of promise quenched in turn, till all our sky was dark. Death came, and went-that so thy image might Our yearning hearts possess, Associate with all pleasant thoughts and bright, With youth and loveliness: Mary, nor lot nor part in thy soft, Joy of sad hearts, and light of down- Dearest, thou art enshrined Bare thought of thee JOHN HENRY NEWMAN. |