Wednesday 28 December 2022

Good Reading: "The Ideal Girl" by Robert E. Howard (in English)

 First published in The Tattler (the newspaper of Brownwood High School), January 6, 1925.

 

In the first place, she should be at least six feet tall and weigh about two hundred pounds, so she could take in washing or coal heaving at wharfs, while I took a vacation. As beauty is apt to make a woman vain, she should have a face that resembled a female crocodile with hippopotamus ancestors. As to hair, eyes and so on, I have no especial preference, but if she squinted with one eye and goggled with the other, it would be all right. Also, she should have a strong Swedish accent.

Tuesday 27 December 2022

Tuesday's Serial "The Mystery of the Sea" by Bram Stoker (in English) - XIX

 CHAPTER XLII - A STRUGGLE

I think that at first sheer amazement had controlled the Spaniard’s thoughts. But whatever the cause of the control was, it soon passed away; then the whole fiery nature of the man seemed to sweep from him like a torrent:

“And so all the learned arguments with which you have overwhelmed me, were but a cloak to cover your possession of the treasure which it was given to me and mine to guard. I might have guessed, that without the certainty of possession you would not have been so obdurate to my offer, given in all sincerity as it was. From other things, too, I might have known! That woman, so old, who watches you with eyes that see more than is to see, and who have reason of her own to mistrust you, she telled to me that nightly she has heard you dig in the rock as though you make grave. Take care it is not so! I am guardian of that treasure; and I am desperate! Already have I told you that all things are to me, all ways to fulfill the trust of my fathers. We are here alone! I am armed; and already my life is forfeit to this course. Yield yourself, then, to me!”

Like a flash of light he had drawn a dagger from his breast; and with an upward sweep of his hand held it poised, either to strike or throw. But already I had taken warning from his eyes. Ever since danger had threatened Marjory, I had carried my revolver with me; even at night it rested under my pillow. The practice which Marjory and I had often had, till she had taught me the old trick which her father had taught her of getting “the drop” on an adversary, stood me now in good stead. Whilst he had been drawing his dagger, I had already covered him; he finished the words of his command straight into the muzzle of my six-shooter. I said as quietly as I could, for it was with a mighty effort I kept approximately calm under stress of such a sudden attack:

“Drop that dagger! Quick; or I shall shoot it from your hands!” He recognised his helplessness in the matter. With a despairing sigh he opened his fingers; the dagger fell jingling to the floor. I went on:

“Now hold up your hands, well above your head! Move back to the wall!” He did so, and stood facing me with a disdainful smile. I stooped, and with my right hand picked up the dagger, still keeping him covered with my left. I put the weapon on the far side of the table, and approached him. He did not move, but I could see that he was sizing me up. This gave me no anxiety, for I knew my own strength; and I had also a shrewd idea that if he had any other arm about him he would not be calculating his chances for a physical struggle. Cautioning him that his life depended on his stillness, for I still held my revolver to his breast, I passed my hand lightly over him; he had manifestly no other weapon. The only sign of one was the sheath of his dagger; this I took from him. I placed the dagger in it and put it in my own pocket; then I drew a chair to the middle of the room and motioned him to sit down. He obeyed sullenly. Having by this time regained something of my serenity of mind, I spoke:

“Your pardon, Sir, for the indignity to which I have been obliged to submit you; but I am sure you will remember that it was not I who began the question of force. When you thought it right to draw arms upon me in my own house, you made it necessary that I should protect myself. Now, let me say something in answer to your charge against me. The finding of the treasure has nothing whatever to do with my theory of action; I should hold my present view just as strongly had we not made the discovery. Indeed, I may say that since we have had actual possession of the treasure, it seems not nearly so desirable as it had been. So far as I am concerned, I don’t care a straw whether I have ultimate possession of it or not; but I am so fixed up that if I waive my rights—that is if I have any to waive—that I may aid in doing a repugnant thing to a very dear friend. That I shall not do. I shall oppose its doing by any means in my power!” The Spaniard saw a chance, and spoke:

“But if I undertake——” I cut him short:

“Sir, in this matter you are not in a position to undertake. By your own showing, you are simply bound to fulfill your trust and to restore the treasure to the King, who will restore it to the Pope; or to restore it to the Pope direct.” He answered quickly:

“But I can stipulate——” again I interrupted him for this was a useless road to travel;

“How can you stipulate? You would, or might, be told to simply fulfill the duty that had been undertaken for you. Did you refuse, from whatever motive, no matter how justly founded, on ground of right or honour, you would not be holding to the simple terms of your trust. No! sir. This is no private affair to be settled by you or me, or by us both together. It belongs to politics! and international politics at that. The Government of Spain is desperately in want of money. How do you know to what shift, or to what specious argument it will condescend in its straits. I have no doubt that, should anything be done contrary to your idea of fair play, you would be grievously pained; but that is not to the point. Your Government would not take thought for any wish of yours, any more than for aught of mine. Your King is a minor; his regent is a woman, and his councillors and governors are all men chosen to do what they can to save their country. Sir, but a few minutes ago you professed it your duty to take any step, even to crime and dishonour, to carry out your duty. Indeed, you drew a weapon upon me, a presumably unarmed man, in my own house in which you are a self-invited guest. Suppose some of the Government of Spain hold ideas of their duty, equally strong and equally unscrupulous; who then is to answer for what they do. Why, in such case, they would undertake anything, until they had got possession of the treasure; and would then act entirely upon what they would call their ‘better judgment.’” His native pride awoke in an instant for he said hotly:

“I would have you know, Senor, and remember always when you talk with a Spaniard, that our statesmen are not criminals, but men of honour.” I bowed instinctively as I answered him:

“Sir, I have no doubt whatever, and I speak in all sincerity, that you yourself are, under normal circumstances, a man of the highest honour. Your self-sacrificing offer has shewn me that; and I have added to that knowledge by seeing the pain you have suffered at even the thought of dishonour.” Here he bowed low, and there was a look of gratitude in his eyes which touched me to the quick. “And yet even you have openly told me that all your belief in honour, all your life-long adherence to its behests, will not keep you from fulfilling a duty should these things clash. Nay more, you have already done things which I take it are at variance with your principles. How then can you, or I, believe that other men, of less lofty lineage and less delicate sense of honour, will forego an advantage for their country in distress, yielding to a theoretical point of right or wrong. No sir” I went on pitilessly, for I felt that it would be a kindness to him to shut absolutely this door of hope, “We must take no step which will place in the hands of others the guardianship of that treasure, of which you have hitherto conceived yourself trustee, and of which I now believe myself to be the owner.” For fully several minutes we faced each other in silence. His face grew more and more fixed and stern; at last he stood up with such a look of resolution that instinctively my fingers tightened round the butt of my revolver. I thought that he might be about to throw himself upon me, and attempt even at such odds as were against him, a struggle for present mastery. Then, without moving from his place, he spoke:

“When I have done all I can to fulfill my trust in its completeness, and have failed, I shall ask the government of my country to make representation to her friend England of a friendly claim, so that we may get even a part of the treasure; and then I will devote myself to the avenging of my honour on those who have foiled me in my duty!” This was a sort of speech which braced me up again. It was a promise of war, man to man, and I could understand it better than the subtleties which now enmeshed us. I put my pistol back in my pocket, and bowed to my opponent as I answered:

“And when that time comes, Sir, you will find me at your service; how you will; where you will; and when you will. In the meantime, when first you place the matter on the international plane, I shall take care that the American government, in which dear friends of mine are interested, shall make friendly demand of her friend, England, that she shall take no step with regard to this particular treasure—if indeed it be then in her possession—which may be used to the detriment of the trans-Atlantic power. Thus you see, sir, that time must in any case elapse before a final settlement. Nothing can be done till the close of the present war, when I take it that immediate need of the sinews of war shall have ceased to exist. Be very careful, then, how you take any steps to bring upon the scene other powers than ourselves; powers vastly more strong, and vastly less scrupulous—perhaps.” He answered nothing, but looked at me a long time in silent cold disdain. Then he said quietly:

“Have I your permission, Senor, to depart?” I bowed, and brought him to the door. When outside he turned, and, lifting his hat high in an old-fashioned, stately way, bowed. He passed up the laneway towards Whinnyfold, without once glancing back.

As I stood looking at him, I saw in the dusk Gormala’s head now and again showing above the low green bank which guarded the edge of the cliff. She was bent double, and was in secret following the Spaniard.

I went back to the house to think over matters. Altogether, we were getting so complicated that there did not seem any straight road to take. In the back of my mind I had a firm idea that the best thing I could do would be to hand over the treasure to the custody of the police; inform the Sheriff; and get my solicitor to enter a formal claim of ownership, wherever the claim should be made. Then I should get Marjory to come upon our honeymoon. I could see that her mind was almost, if not quite, made up to accept this step; and for a while I lost myself in a day dream.

I came back to the reality of things by dimly and gradually realising that it had grown dark. So I made preparation for the night, bearing in mind that I had a vast treasure in my possession, and that a desperate man who claimed to represent its ownership was aware that I had it in the house. It was not till I had seen to the fastenings of every window and door, that I began to prepare a meal.

By this time I was exceedingly hungry; when I had eaten I seated myself before a rousing fire of pine logs, lit my pipe, and began to think. Without, the wind was rising. I could hear it whistle along the roof, and now and again it roared and boomed down the chimney; the leaping fire seemed to answer its call. I could not think definitely; my thoughts kept whirling in a circle from the Spaniard to the treasure, from the treasure to Gormala, from Gormala to Marjory, and from Marjory back to the Spaniard again. Every time the cycle became complete and my thoughts came back to Marjory, my rapture as I thought of her and of our future, became clouded by a vague uneasiness. It was out of this that the thought of Don Bernardino came to commence the next round of thought. In all my mental wanderings he became a dominant character; his pride, his sense of duty which subordinated even honour, his desperation, his grief, all seemed to be with me and around me. Now and again I trembled, when I thought that such self-sacrificing forces might be turned against Marjory.

Little by little, despite all my anxiety, stole over me the disposition of sleep. I was indeed almost worn out. The events of the past few days had crowded together so quickly that I had had no time for pause. Even the long sleep which had crowned the vigil in the water cave had not enabled me to lay in, so to speak, a provision of sleep; it had been the payment of a debt to nature rather than the putting by of capital. I had the consoling thought that Marjory had promised me she would not leave Crom Castle till I came. Safe in this thought I rolled myself in rugs—choosing those that she had used—and fell asleep.

I think that even in sleep I did not lose the sense of my surroundings, for in dreams my thoughts ran in their waking channel. Here again, all the disturbing elements of my life of late became jumbled together; and a sort of anxiety regarding something unknown seemed to brood over me. So far as I remember, I slept fitfully; waking often in a sort of agony of indefinite apprehension. A couple of times I made up the fire which was falling low, for there was a sort of companionship in it. Without, the wind howled more loudly, and each time as I sank back to rest I pulled the rugs more closely around me.

Once, I started broad awake. I thought I heard a cry, and naturally, in my present frame of mind, my thoughts flew to Marjory in some danger; she was calling me. Whatever the cause was, it reached my brain through a thick veil of sleep; my body answered, and before I had time to think of why or wherefore, I was standing on the floor broad awake, alert and panting. Again there came a sharp cry outside, which threw me in an instant into a cold sweat. Marjory was in danger and was calling me! Instinctively I ran to the window, and pulling open the shutters, threw up the sash. All was dark outside, with just that cold line on the far Eastern horizon which told of coming dawn. The wind had risen high, and swept past me into the room, rustling papers and making the flames dance. Every now and again a bird swept by me on the wings of the wind, screaming as it flew; for the house was so close to the sea that the birds took no note of it as they would ordinarily do of a human habitation. One of them came so close that its scream seemed to sound loudly in my ears; it was doubtless just such a cry as this which had torn me from my sleep. For a while I hesitated whether I should go right away to Crom; but second thoughts prevailed. I could not get into the house at such an hour, without creating alarm and causing comment. So I went back to the chimney corner, and, piling on fresh logs and snuggling into my nest of rugs, soon found sleep again descending on me. The serenity of thought which comes with the day was using its force....

This time I woke more slowly. The knocking was continuous and imperative; but it was not a terrifying sound. We are all more or less used to such sounds. I listened; and gradually consciousness of my surroundings came back to me. The knocking was certainly persistent.... I put on my shoes and went to the door.

Outside was Mrs. Jack, looking troubled and hot in spite of the cold of the wind which seemed to sing around the house. As I opened the door, she slipped past me and closed it behind her. Her first words made my heart sink, and my blood run cold with vague terror:

“Is Marjory here?”

 

CHAPTER XLIII - THE HONOUR OF A SPANIARD

Mrs. Jack saw the answer in my eyes before speech came, and staggered back against the wall.

“No,” I said “Why do you ask?”

“She is not here! Then there is something wrong; she was not in her room this morning!”

This morning! The words set my thoughts working. I looked at my watch; it was past ten o’clock. In a dazed kind of way I heard Mrs. Jack go on.

“I did not say a word to any of the servants at first, for I didn’t want to set them talking. I went all over the house myself. Her bed had not been slept in; I pulled the clothes off it and threw them on again roughly so that the maid might not suspect. Then I asked quietly if any of the maids had seen her; but none had. So I said as quietly as I could that she must have gone out for an early walk; and I took my breakfast. Then I had the cart got ready, and drove over here myself. What can it be? She told me last night that she was not going out until you came; and she is always so exact when she says a thing, that there must be something wrong. Come back with me at once! I am so anxious that I don’t know what to do.”

Two minutes sufficed for my toilet; then shutting the door behind us, we got into the cart and drove to Crom. At the first and at the last we went quietly, so as not to arouse attention by our speed; but in the middle space we flew. During the journey Mrs. Jack had told me that last night she had gone to bed as usual, leaving in the drawing room Marjory, who had told her that she was going presently into the library to write as she had a lot of letters to get through, and that no one was to wait up for her. This was her usual habit when she sat late; it therefore excited no extra attention. Mrs. Jack who was an early riser, had been dressed for an hour before she went to Marjory’s room. In the course of her enquiries amongst the servants, one of them, whose business it was to open the hall door, told her that she had found it locked and chained as usual.

Within the house at Crom we found all quiet. I went at once into the library, as that was presumably the last place where Marjory had been. As we went, I asked Mrs. Jack if any letters had been left out to post. She said no! that the usual habit was to put such in the box on the hall table, but she had herself, looked, when she came down to put in a letter for America. I went over at once to the table near the fire where Marjory usually sat at night. There were plenty of writing materials and blank paper and envelopes; but not a sign of a letter or anything written. I looked all round the room but could see nothing to attract my attention. Once more I asked Mrs. Jack what Marjory had said to her about her intention of not leaving the castle till I had come. With some hesitation at first, as though she were fearful of breaking confidence, but afterwards more freely as if glad to be able to speak, she told me all:

“The dear child took to heart what I said yesterday about her living with her husband. After you had gone she came to me and laid her head on my breast, as she used to do as a little child, and began to cry; and told me that I had been very good to her. The darling! And that her mind was made up. She realised now her duty to her husband; and that as he wished her to stay in the house, nothing in the world would induce her to leave it till he came. That was the first act of her new duty! And, oh my dear! that is why I was so concerned when I found that after all she was not in the house. I don’t understand it; there must be something on foot that I don’t know; and I am full of fear!” Here the old lady quite broke down. I felt that any self control now was precious. It would not do to leave Mrs. Jack in ignorance of the danger, so I told her in as few words as I could of the blackmailing going on and of the watch set by the United States Secret Service. At first she was overwhelmed; but her early apprenticeship to dangers of all kinds stood her in good stead. Very soon her agitation took practical shape. I told her I was off to seek for help, and that she must keep the house till I returned. I would have tried the secret tunnel, but from what Mrs. Jack had said I was convinced that Marjory had never left the house of her own accord. If she had been captured she was doubtless far away by this time. It was possible that the blackmailers had found the secret passage into the Castle by which Don Bernardino had come. Here the thought came to me in full force; that was how they had discovered it. They had seen and watched the Don!... I felt that another debt for our day of reckoning had been piled up against him.

I got in the cart again and went to Cruden as hard as the mare could go. As I went, I formed my plans, and had my telegrams made up in my mind ready to write them out at once. For a while I doubted whether I should go to another telegraph office, lest the Cruden people might come to know too much. But there was no need of concealment now. I was not afraid of any one knowing, though I determined to be discreet and secret if possible. The circuit was occupied, so I found the use of the priority telegraph forms Adams had sent me. There was not a moment lost; one was being despatched whilst I was writing the next. To Adams I said:

“They have succeeded: Wire men see me at Crom right away. Come if you can. Want all help can get. Time vital....”

To Cathcart I wired at his house in Invernesshire:

“Come to me without moment’s delay. Vital. Want every kind of help.” I knew he would understand, and would come armed.

As it would be some little time before anything could be done, I determined to find Don Bernardino if possible; and induce him to show me the secret exit. Without knowledge of this we would be powerless; with it we might find some clue. I did not make up my mind as to what I would do if he refused; but to myself the instinctive grinding of my teeth, and clenching of my fingers, seemed to answer my question. Of one thing I was glad, he was a gentleman. In such a matter as that in which I was engaged, there were possibilities, if even there were not definite hope.

I drove to Ellon; and from the agent there got his address. I soon found it; an old-fashioned house near the town, in a tiny park surrounded with great trees. I left the cart on the road, with the mare tethered to the gate post, there being no lodgekeeper or no lodge. Before I rang the hall-door bell I saw that my revolver was ready to my hand. The instant the door was opened I stepped in, and said to the old woman who opened it:

“Mr. Barnard is in the study I suppose? I have pressing business with him!” She was so taken aback by the suddenness of my entry and speech that she pointed to a door saying: “He is in there.”

As I entered the room, closing the door behind me, the Don, who had been seated in a large chair with his back to the door turned unconcernedly. He had evidently not expected any disturbing visitor. The instant he saw me, however, he leaped to his feet, all his hostility awake. As he scanned my face his concern grew; and he glanced around, as though seeking for some weapon. I put my hand on my revolver, and said as quietly as I could, remembering his own precision of manner:

“Forgive my intrusion, Sir; but I have urgent need of speech with you.” I suppose there was something in my tone which bore home to his brain the idea that I had changed in some way since we had met. Do what I would, I could not conceal the anxiety of my voice. After a pause he said:

“Regarding the treasure?”

“No!” said I: “Since last night I have not even given it a thought.” A strange, new look came over his face, a look in which hope and concern seemed to have equal parts. He paused again; I could see he was thinking. Mechanically I tapped my foot on the floor with impatience; the golden moments were flying by. He realised my gravity of purpose, and, manifestly turning his attention to me, said:

“Speak on Senor!” By this time I had well in my mind what I intended to say. It was not my purpose to further antagonise the Spaniard; at the outset at any rate. Later on, that might be necessary; but I should exhaust other means first.

“I have come, Sir, to ask your aid, the help of a gentleman; and I feel at a loss how to ask it.” Through the high-bred courtesy of the Spaniard’s manner came a note of bitterness, as he answered:

“Alas! Senor, I know the feeling. Have not I myself asked on such a plea; and stooped in vain!” I had nothing to say in reply to this, so went on:

“Sir, I am aware that you can make much sacrifice: I ask, not for myself, but for a lady in peril!” He answered quickly:

“A lady! in peril! Say on Senor!” There was such hope and purpose in his quick tone that my heart instinctively leaped as I went on:

“In peril, sir; of life; of honour. To you I appeal to lay aside your feelings of hate towards me, however just they may be; and come like a true gentleman to her aid. I am emboldened to ask this because it was, I think, by your act that the peril—the immediate peril, has come to her.” He flushed at once:

“Through me! Peril to a lady’s honour through me! Have a care, sir! Have a care!” With a rush I went on:

“By your going into the castle through a secret passage, other enemies of the lady, low, base and unscrupulous who have been plotting to carry her off for ransom, have doubtless made an entry otherwise impossible to them. Now we must find a clue, and at once. Tell me, I implore you, of the secret way; that thus we may at once begin our search.” For a few seconds he looked me through and through; I think he suspected some plot or trap, for he said slowly:

“And the treasure; can you leave it?” I answered hotly:

“The treasure! I have not even thought of it since the news came of Marjory’s disappearance!” Here I took it that he was beginning his unscrupulous purpose, and was playing my loss against his own; and a thought came to me that had not even crossed my mind before—had he been the abductor for the purpose of just such a bargain? I took from my pocket the key of the house in Whinnyfold and held it out to him. “Here Sir” I said “is the key of my house. Take it with all it contains, and all it leads to! The treasure is as you left it last night; only help me in my need.”

He waved my hand aside with an impatient gesture as he said simply:

“I do not bargain with a woman’s honour. Such comes before all the treasures of Popes or Kings; before the oath and duty of a de Escoban. Come! Senor, there is no time to lose. Let us settle this affair first; later we can arrange matters that rest between thee and me!”

“Your hand, Sir” was all I could say. “In such trouble as mine, there is no help like that of a gentleman. But will you not honour me by keeping the key? This other is a trust which you have won by honour; as your great ancestor won his glorious duty long ago.” He did not hesitate; all he said as he took the key was:

“It is a part of my duty which I must not forego.”

As we left the house he looked like a new man—a man born again; there was such joyous gladness in his face and voice and movements that I wondered. I could not help saying when we had got into the cart and were on our way:

“You seem happy, Sir. I would that I could feel the same.”

“Ah, Senor, I am happy beyond belief. I am happy as one raised from Hell to Heaven. For now my honour is no more perilled. God has been good to me to show a way, even to death, without dishonour.”

As we flew along to Crom I told him what I knew of the secret passage between the chapel and the monument. He wondered at my having discovered the secret; but when I told him of how the blackmailing gang had used the way to evade the Secret Service men, he suddenly cried out:

“There was but one who ever knew the secret of that passage; my kinsman, with whom I stayed in Crom when young, told me of him. He tried much to find the entrance to the Castle, and finally under threat he went away to America. He was a base-born and a thief. It must be he who has come back after these years and has told of the secret way. Alas! they must have watched me when I went, all unsuspicious; and so discovered the other secret.” Then he tried to explain where the entrance was. It was not in the chamber where we had expected it would be, but in a narrow corner of the stair, the whole corner being one stone and forming the entrance.

When we arrived at Crom we found that the Secret Service men were waiting for me, having been instructed from London. There were also telegrams from Adams and Cathcart saying that they were on the way to join me. Adams wired from Aberdeen, and Cathcart from Kingussie. Mrs. Jack was with the detectives and had taken them through the rooms which Marjory had used. They had had up the servants one by one and examined them as to what they knew. The chief man had insisted on this; he said matters were now too serious to play the fool any longer. The servants were not told anything, even that Marjory was missing; but of course they had their suspicions. A peremptory order was given that no one should leave the house without permission. The chief confided to me that Mrs. Jack had quite broken down when she was telling him that Marjory knew all along about the blackmailers and had never told her. “But she’s all right now, Sir,” he concluded. “That old lady is just full of sand; and I tell you her head is level. She’s been thinking of everything which could possibly be of use to us. I guess I have heard more of this racket within the last half hour than I have done in the last two weeks.”

By the instructions of Don Bernardino we went into the library. I asked Mrs. Jack to send for lamps and candles, and these were brought shortly. In the meantime I asked that one of the detectives should be sent into the old chapel and another to the monument on the hill. Both were warned to have their guns ready, and to allow no one to pass at any hazard. To each before going I explained the secret mode of entry.

The Don went over to one of the book-cases—the very section containing the shelf in which I had replaced the old law book. Taking out that particular volume, he put his hand in and pressed a spring. There was a faint click. He replaced the book and pressed against the bookcase with slow level pressure. Very slowly it seemed to give way before him; and then turning on a hinge at one side, left an open cavity through which a man could easily pass. I was about to rush in, and was quite ready, with a lamp in one hand and a revolver in the other, when the chief of the detectives laid a restraining hand on my arm as he said:

“Wait a moment. If you go too fast you may obliterate some sign which would give us a clue!” The wisdom of his speech was not to be gainsaid. Instinctively I fell back; two of the trained observers drew close to the doorway, and holding their lamp in such wise as to throw light all round the opening, began an exact scrutiny. One of them knelt down and examined the flooring; the other confined his attention to roof and walls. After a silence, lasting perhaps a minute, the man kneeling stood up and said:

“Not a doubt about it! There has been a violent struggle here at the doorway!”

Saturday 24 December 2022

Sermon for Christmas Eve by St. Vincent Ferrer (translated into English)

 Mt: 1:18 Now the generation of Christ was in this wise. When as his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child, of the Holy Ghost.

“She was found with child, of the Holy Ghost,” (Mt 1:18)

 

Our whole sermon is about the impregnation of the Virgin Mary. But that you may perceive this material in your souls with the sweetness of devotion first we shall salute the pregnant Virgin, etc. [Here all recite the “Hail Mary.”]

“She was found,” etc. I find a great difference in sacred scripture between the conception of Christ and his birth, especially in this because the birth of Christ was not entirely hidden and secret, rather he wished that it would be announced to the world and published through the angels and through the heavens, through the star in the east, through the animals, through Eastern kings, just as it had already been prophesied. “I will move the heaven and the earth, and the sea, and the dry land. And I will move all nations: and the desired of all nations shall come,” (Hag 2:7-8). Note, “the heaven,” that is, the holy angels.

But about his conception he wished that it would be hidden. To no one in this world was it revealed, not to the patriarchs, not to the prophets, nor to holy persons, but only to the archangel Gabriel and to the Virgin Mary, as it had been prophesied by Isaiah, “From the ends of the earth we have heard praises, the glory of the just one. And I said: My secret to myself,” (Isa 24:16). And the prophet speaks in the person of Gabriel and the Virgin Mary. Note, “from the ends of the earth.” The ends of the earth are taken in two ways, either locally or temporally.

With respect to the first by calculating from the center of the earth, that which is most distant from the center is the circumference. The earth is the center, the circumference is the empyreal heaven. Behold the ends locally from which Gabriel and the Virgin Mary heard the praises of the just one, because it is a rule in holy theology that when he is called just, it is understood absolutely, always of the savior.

As for the second, the ends can be taken temporally. There are seven temporal ages of the world. The first was from Adam to Noah. The second from Noah to Abraham. Third from Abraham to Moses. The fourth from Moses to David. The fifth from David to the Babylonian captivity. Sixth from the Babylonian exile to Christ. The seventh and last, from Christ to the end of the world. About which the Apostle [Paul] says: “[We are] upon whom the ends of the world are come,” (1Cor 10:11). Behold the temporal limits, about which Gabriel and the Virgin Mary speak. “From the ends of the earth, “that is in the ultimate age of the world “we have heard praises, the glory of the just one,” that is, the savior. “Tell us Angel Gabriel about these praises and the glory of the savior. Say something to us.” He responds, “My secret to me,” supply “I shall keep.” See how the conception of Christ was hidden and secret. About which David said: “He shall come down like rain upon the fleece; and as showers falling gently upon the earth,” (Ps 71:6). The difference then is clear between the birth of Christ and his conception.

Nevertheless although his conception was so secret at the beginning, nevertheless it gradually became manifest, because a pregnant woman at least in giving birth reveals her pregnancy. So it was of the Virgin whose belly and uterus had swelled, and she could no longer hide her pregnancy. On this account the proposed theme speaks, “She was found with child.” The theme is clear.

And since I am concerned with the pregnant Virgin in this sermon, I find that the Virgin was found pregnant by her fiancé Joseph in three ways:

First through sense experience, [per experientiam sensualem]

Second through divine wisdom, [per sapientiam divinalem]

Third through a special excellence. [per excellentiam specialem]

For each of these the theme speaks, “She was found with child,” (Mt 1:18) etc.

 

SENSE EXPERIENCE

I say first, that the Virgin Mary was found pregnant by her espoused Joseph through sense experience. All knowledge is had through some sense perception. Through sight we recognize colors; through hearing, sound; through the sense of smell, odors; through taste, flavors; through touch, hard or soft, hot or cold. If you say to someone “How do you know this?” He replies: “Because I have seen or heard it,” etc. It is clear therefore that all our cognition is through the senses. The Philosopher [Aristotle], “Sense is not deceived about the proper object, especially sight unless there is a defect.” On account of this honorable judges make a great difference between eyewitnesses and hearsay [de auditu], or belief [credentia]. An eyewitness is greater. And so Christ rebuked the Jews who refused to believe, saying, “We speak what we know, and we testify what we have seen, and you receive not our testimony,” (Jn 3:11). Note “what we know” namely, I and the holy prophets, “we speak,” in this way, from sight. The Virgin Mary was found by her espoused Joseph to be with child. Imagine how after Mary had conceived, filled with joy she went to visit Elizabeth her cousin [literally, her related sister], who was pregnant with John the Baptist, as the angel had told her. She stayed with her for three months, as Luke says, (cf. Lk 1:56).

Her fiancé Joseph came to Nazareth to visit her, and saw her womb swollen, so he found her pregnant. Think how Joseph should have wondered, because he had not touched her. Moreover, as the holy doctors say, after they had become engaged, the Virgin Mary persuaded her fiancé, who was also a virgin, that they would take a vow of virginity together. So much the more did he wonder when she seemed pregnant. Therefore the beginning of today’s gospel says, “When as his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together,” that is, to live together and have relations, “she was found to be with child, of the Holy Ghost. Whereupon Joseph her husband, being a just man, and not willing publicly to expose her, was minded to put her away privately,” (Mt 1:18-19).

Think also when she was found pregnant by her parents, who did not believe that she had sinned, but they wondered what this was. On the one hand they were thinking of her great devotion; on the other hand they saw her pregnancy. Her mother said to her, “Daughter, what is this?” The Virgin Mary replied to her mother, this is that which pleases God, who can do to his creatures whatever he pleases. “O daughter, what will people say, that my daughter got pregnant before she was married.”

Think of the distress of the Virgin, who dared not reveal because “my secret to me.” Think of the entanglement in which Joseph found himself, who was old and poor, and the Virgin Mary, young and stunningly beautiful. Bernard says that Joseph, on one hand was considering the holiness of the Virgin, and that it could not be that she had sinned, and on the other hand he beheld her pregnant. And since by nature a woman cannot conceive without a man, therefore like an olive, his heart was between two millstones.

 

SIGNS OF A BAD WOMAN

And because he was prudent and wise he considered all the signs of a bad woman, which are: 1) an irreligious heart, 2) garrulousness in speech, 3) personal untidiness, 4) voraciousness in eating and drinking, 5) laziness toward work, 5) vanity of dress, and 6) contempt for her husband. Each of these signs indicate a woman is bad. But Joseph found none of these signs in the Virgin Mary. Rather, the total opposite; all the signs of a good woman.

1) The first sign of a dishonorable [inhonesta] woman is an irreligious heart toward God, disregarding masses and sermons, because she does not fear God. May God keep her from being inconsiderate, because unless a woman retains a fear of God, no other fear will hold her back from evil. Fear of God and devotion restrained Susanna lest she sin, when she said, “I am straitened on every side: for if I do this thing, it is death to me: and if I do it not, I shall not escape your hands. But it is better for me to fall into your hands without doing it, than to sin in the sight of the Lord,” (Dan 13:22-23).

Joseph however was thinking about his fiancée whether she was devout, or irreligious, and he saw that he had never seen such a holy and devout woman, because she always wanted to pray, or read, or contemplate. And on this foundation of devotion a woman should ground herself, otherwise she will fall. “For other foundation no man can lay, but that which is laid,” (1Cor 3:10). But Joseph did not find these things in the Blessed Virgin Mary, since she was most devoted and ardent toward God. So scripture says of her in Proverbs, “The woman that fears [God], she shall be praised,” (Prov 31:30).

2) The second sign is garrulous talkativeness. [garrulatio oris loquax]. God keep her from the opportunity. Reason, because no devotion remains in the soul from words, just as no scent remains in the nutmeg jar which is left open. Authority: “Where there are many words, there is oftentimes want,” namely of goodness (Prov 14:23). And so you should raise your little daughters lest they become talkative. And so, 1 Tim: “Let the woman learn in silence, with all subjection,” (1Tim 2:11), otherwise it is a bad sign. But a quiet woman is good.

Note the signs of taciturnity of the Blessed Virgin, because she is painted with her eyes larger than her mouth, and so she is properly represented to indicate that she had a great eye of the heart for thinking and contemplating, but a mouth small for speaking little. Mary “kept all these words in her heart,” (Lk 2:51). Joseph considered for himself if his fiancée was loquacious, or garrulous, and he saw that she was not. Moreover she preferred not to speak. A sign of this, as I said, that the Virgin had large eyes and a small mouth, is clear in the portrait which St. Luke painted, which is in Rome.

3) The third sign is bodily untidiness. When a woman goes about, lascivious, dissolute and vulgar, it seems that she has ants on her feet [formicas in pedibus!]. Ambrose: A man’s body is an image of his soul. So Solomon says, “A woman [meets him] in harlot’s attire prepared to deceive souls; talkative and wandering, not bearing to be quiet, not able to abide still at home, now abroad, now in the streets, now lying in wait near the corners,” (Prov 7:10-12). And she immediately put herself at the windows etc.

But Joseph did not find this sign in the Blessed Virgin, because she never left home, unless when she went to the temple. And thus she went about totally composed. She always had her eyes toward the ground in a gesture of holiness. She never went dancing, but went about with downcast eyes. So scripture says about her, “How beautiful are you, my love, how beautiful are you! your eyes are doves’ eyes, besides what is hid within,” (Song 4:1). The Holy Spirit says “how beautiful are you” to the Virgin twice, because she is beautiful in body and beautiful in soul. Note, “Your eyes are doves’ eyes,” he does not say, “falcons’ eyes.”

4) The fourth sign is stuffing the belly with food and drink. It is a bad sign in a man and in a woman, because of those nearby parts, and stimulate each other. Hence a full belly immediately stimulates its neighbor, and because of this a gluttonous person necessarily is lustful. Holy Scripture says of the gluttons, “They shall eat … and shall lift up their souls to their iniquity,”(Hos 4:8).

But the Virgin Mary ate very little, only enough to sustain the body. She was almost always fasting.

5) The fifth sign is laziness, as when some woman says, “I will not work. I have brought so much from my dowry to my husband.” Therefore St. Bernard [De consideratione, II, 13,22] writes, “Idleness is the mother of trifles, the stepmother of virtues,” so because our body is of the earth, it has the conditions of the earth, which if left uncultivated, brings forth thorns of lust, and weeds of bad thoughts and sins. Also, about the body of the lazy, on this account Sacred Scripture says of the body, “Send him,” — the servant, that is, the body which is like a servant who is to be directed – “to work, that he be not idle: For idleness has taught much evil,” (Sir 33:28-29).

But the Virgin was never lazy, rather she was always busy about holy works. Jerome says that she would arise in the middle of the night and pray. Then she spun and wove.

6) Sixth is vanity and excess in dress [ornatus]. Women may dress themselves decently and honestly according to their status and condition, but when they pour all their time and zeal in dressing themselves, or their body and they don’t care about their soul, God help them, because such women are vain and have a vain heart. So Scripture says, “Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity,” (Eccl 1:2). Note the rule of the Apostle [Paul], “Women also in decent apparel: adorning themselves with modesty and sobriety, not with plaited hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly attire, but as it becomes women professing godliness, with good works,” (1Tim 2:9-10). Note “sobriety” in measure, according to the condition of their status and the ability of their husband. But there are many women with no regard, and they should be ashamed at what they wear, like the outfit or jewelry which a prostitute wears. And so scripture says, “Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain: the woman that fears the Lord, she shall be praised,” (Prov 31:30).

But the Blessed Virgin did not care about jewelry. She washed her face well with the pure water of tears. St. Anne, her mother was adorning her with much jewelry [dives]. Out of love for her mother she wore it in the house, but not outside the house. But the daughters of today do just the opposite.

7) The seventh sign is contempt of the husband. It is a sign that she has her heart for another, when she argues with her husband about fashion [de genere ?] and about other things, she immediately wants him to get it for her. According to scriptures, a woman ought to honor her husband, and so the Apostle commands, saying, “Let the woman learn in silence, with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to use authority over the man: but to be in silence,” (1Tim 2:11). We also read in Esther 2, that Assuerus and his people were saying, “Let all wives, as well of the greater as of the lesser, give honor to their husbands…and that the husbands should be rulers and masters in their houses,” (Est 2:20,22).

Neither is this sign of contempt found in the glorious Virgin, because although she was young, beautiful, noble and rich, and her spouse old, and poor, nevertheless she honored him more than any woman in the world. All in all, Joseph found no sign of a bad woman in the Virgin Mary, but all the virtues and traits [afflictiones?, perhaps affectiones] of a good woman.

On the other hand he considered whether nature would permit a woman to conceive without a man, and he saw that it seemed not. See how perplexed he was; it was like his heart was pressed between two millstones. On the one hand he was afraid to make her condition public, because she would have immediately been stoned to death, according to the law. On the other hand, since he was a just man, lest he seem to consent, he thought about going away quietly and leaving her. And so the prophecy of David was fulfilled saying, in the person of Joseph, “Fear and trembling are come upon me: and darkness has covered me. And I said: Who will give me wings like a dove, and I will fly and be at rest?… and I abode in the wilderness,” (Ps 54:6-7,8). As for his proposal: note “fear” of consenting in sin if he stayed with her, and “trembling” lest he defame an innocent one. So he proposed to put her away. It is clear, therefore, how the Virgin Mary, “was found with child,” (Mt 1:18).

Morally. You should take care, like Joseph, that there be no impediments when you wish to contract marriage, like parental [permission], or affinity, or something else. And so it is an ordination of the church that it be declared. And so scripture says, “Marriage honorable in all, and the bed undefiled,” (Heb 13:4). It is honorable when there is no impediment.

 

DIVINE WISDOM

Second, I say that the Virgin Mary was found to be with child, through divine wisdom. This is based on a rule of theology, says St. Thomas in I Pars that the mysteries of God, that is the secrets, depending on his will alone cannot be known unless through his revelation. None of you can know my heart unless I should reveal and manifest it. How much more so with God.

But that which happens naturally can be known. In this way doctors know the hour of death of a sick person, because although the effect is in the future, nevertheless the cause is already present. Not so with the will of God. And so scripture says, “For who among men is he who can know the counsel of God? or who can think what the will of God is?,” (Wis 9:13). It is added, “And who shall know your thought, unless you give wisdom, and send thy Holy Spirit from above,” (Wis 9:17). Now Joseph, when he saw that his fiancée was pregnant, could not naturally know the truth, because the conception of Christ had no natural cause. For it did not come through the celestial constellations, nor through angelic processes, nor elemental, or human, therefore it could not have been known unless through divine revelation. Think, therefore how Joseph, who was a holy man, just and good, turned to God in prayer about this, asking the good pleasure of God to reveal [the answer], according to that of James, “But if any of you want wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all men abundantly, … and it shall be given him,” (Jas 1:5). So Joseph did, when he wanted at night to retire, he first kneeled down in prayer, saying, “Lord, you have given me a great grace, giving me this damsel as my fiancée, but Lord, I see that she is pregnant. How is it that a woman so holy is pregnant?” and similar words. And he wept much.

I believe also that the Blessed Virgin, on the other hand was praying to God, lovingly compassionate over her predicament, and that her saddened fiancé might be consoled. I believe that even the mother of the Virgin was praying that they not be disgraced, etc. Think how God listened to these devout prayers. The Gospel says, “But while he thought on these things, behold the angel of the Lord appeared to him in his sleep, saying: Joseph, son of David, fear not to take Mary as your wife, for that which is conceived in her, is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son: and you shall call his name JESUS. For he shall save his people from their sins. Now all this was done that it might be fulfilled which the Lord spoke by the prophet, saying: Behold a virgin shall be with child, and bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us,” (Mt 1:20-23). Think, how the angel spoke to him the prophecy of Isaiah, “Behold a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son,” (Isa 7:14), not the Father nor the Holy Spirit. Think what kind of joy Joseph had, when he knew the truth.

From this a question emerges: Why did the Virgin not reveal it to him, when she saw his sadness, and perplexity, because he believed her – although nowadays a fiancé does not believe his fiancée. I respond that a secret entrusted should not be revealed, where the one by whom the secret is entrusted, is good, just and holy. Otherwise it can be revealed. “For it is good to hide the secret of a king,” (Tob 12:7). Therefore the Virgin Mary, who had a most delicate conscience, chose not to reveal it, lest she offend the king, especially God.

Note [this is] against many vain persons who, if God gives them some grace or revelation, cannot keep silence. They immediately reveal it, and wrongly, unless about this they expressly know the will of God, especially because sometimes they believe the illusions of the devil to be divine revelations. They are like hens who can not keep quiet until they lay an egg. About such scripture says, “He who discloses the secret of a friend loses his credit, and shall never find an intimate friend,” (Sir 27:17). See the reason why the Virgin Mary did not reveal the secret committed to her to Joseph or to her mother, but the Holy Spirit revealed it to Elizabeth.

 

SPECIAL EXCELLENCE

Third, I say that the Virgin Mary was found to be with child through a special excellence. Generally, when women are pregnant, they are thin, pale, tired and hungry for all kinds of things. But it was not so with the Blessed Virgin. Some holy theologians say that from the fact that the Virgin was pregnant, rays of splendor shone forth from her face, especially when she was close to childbirth. This can be proved in three ways, through philosophy, through theology and through experience.

As for the first, the Philosopher Aristotle says that every natural agent to the extent that it gives of the substantial form, to that extent it also gives the accidents following the form. What gives fire, gives also heat and light. So God the Father, of his substantial form, gave his Son to the Virgin Mary. That the Son of God is called “form,” the authority of scriptures: “Who being in the form of God,…emptied himself, taking the form of a servant,” (Phil 2:6-7). It is no wonder then that it conveys a radiance in the face etc. And so when pregnant, the Virgin was more beautiful and more glowing.

Second, it is proved theologically. We read in Exodus 34, that because Moses had spoken with God on the mountain, rays of splendor shone forth from his face, so much so that the people could not even gaze on him. Behold the reason. If the face was so splendorous from just a conversation with God, how much more therefore the face of the Virgin Mary from the conception of his Son. The Apostle Paul makes this point saying, “Now if the ministration of death, engraved with letters upon stones, was glorious; so that the children of Israel could not steadfastly behold the face of Moses, for the glory of his countenance, which is made void: How shall not the ministration of the spirit be rather in glory?” (2Cor 3:7-8). The “ministration of death” was the law of Moses which did not confer a life of glory.

Third, it is proved by experience, of a crystal lamp, which is beautiful in itself and bright, but if the lamp within is lighted it shall be more beautiful and even brighter. The same with the Virgin Mary. Think how her body, beautiful and pure like a lamp, and the light inside illuminating the whole world is the Son of God. No wonder therefore if the Virgin was then brighter and more beautiful, inasmuch as the text says that Joseph “knew her not,” (Mt 1:25). From these rays of splendor, because eternal light was in her.

Note here how Joseph, having received the divine revelation, humbly sought pardon from the Virgin for his suspicion which he had had of her, saying, “O Blessed, why did you not tell me, because I believed you. And that she comforted him sweetly congratulating him that he would be the groom and companion of the mother of the Son of God, and his parent. O blessed family [societas]. How reverently, then, did they both adore God incarnate in the womb of the Virgin.

And so if you wish to have this association for yourself, you should do like the merchant Valentine did, who every year on Christmas, invited [to his home] one poor old man and one woman having a little child. They represented for him the Virgin with her son, and Joseph. It was revealed about him that at his death the Virgin with her son and Joseph appeared to him, saying, “Because you have received us in your house, so we receive you into our house.” About this Christ says, in Matthew 25, “Amen I say to you, as long as you did it to one of these my least brethren, you did it to me,” (v. 40). And so the money which you pay out in gambling, you should for the love of Christ give to the poor. The poor however, who do not have, nor can give money to themselves, can at least present tomorrow [Christmas day] as many “Hail Marys” as days she bore him in the womb, or how many weeks, or months. Forty weeks, nine months, 277 days.

Friday 23 December 2022

Friday's Sung Word: "Quando o Samba Acabou" by Noel Rosa (in Portuguese)

 Lá no morro da Mangueira
Bem em frente a ribanceira
Uma cruz a gente vê

Quem fincou foi a Rosinha
Que é cabrocha de alta linha
E nos olhos tem seu "não sei que"

Numa linda madrugada
Ao voltar da batucada
Pra dois malandros olhou a sorrir

Ela foi se embora
E os dois ficaram
E depois se encontraram
Pra conversar e discutir

Lá no morro
Uma luz somente havia
Era lua que tudo assistia
Mas quando acabava o samba se escondia

Na segunda batucada
Disputando a namorada
Foram os dois improvisar

E como em toda façanha
Sempre um perde e outro ganha
Um dos dois parou de versejar
E perdendo a doce amada
Foi fumar na encruzilhada
Passando horas em meditação

Quando o sol raiou
Foi encontrado
Na ribanceira estirado
Com um punhal no coração

Lá no morro uma luz somente havia
Era o Sol quando o samba acabou
De noite não houve lua
ninguém cantou

 

 You can listen "Quando o Samba Acabou" sung by  Mário Reis here.