Anne Manning

“ HOME. ANNA Hofer was kneeling before the crucifix in the corner of her kitchen, praying as fervently as if she had been privileged to own a purer faith; and, with every bead that ran through her fingers, letting fall a tear far more precious than a pearl of great price. What opportunity had she had of living under a better dispensation? Romanism was the only form of Christianity the Tyrolese were acquainted with; and while, among their invaders, infidelity was rampant, the simplicity and fervour of their piety made them, as far as in them lay, champions of the Christian faith. ”

“ House! house!—Give us to eat! Give us to drink!" with frightful oaths and curses.
"Good sirs, a moment's patience, and you shall be waited on," cried my terrified aunt.
"To Jericho with your patience! We wait for nobody. I decide for this poulet," said one, taking it up hot in his hands, and bawling because they were burnt; "dress two dozen more—cook all you have in the poultry-yard, or we will cook you."
"I claim my share of that poulet," says one.
"Why not have one apiece?" said another. "Who would make two bites of a cherry? He has gnawn off all the best mouthfuls already. ”

“ You are too rich to be a good painter. A certain degree of excellence you may attain, that will embellish your life and charm your leisure; but, to become really great, one must attack painting like any mechanical trade, and apply to it like an apprentice, not merely when the fancy inclines, but at all times, willing or unwilling."
"Ah, that would never suit me," said the Duchess. "But, supposing I could leap over the apprenticeship, and become at once a great artist like Michael Angelo, I might have underlings to do all the rough work for me, and only do what was pleasant." ”

“ THE CHÂLET. A FEW hours after Rudolf had gone, Hofer was standing at the door of his hut, when he thought he saw a dark object stealthily moving among the firs. At first he took it for some animal of prey, but his next impression was that it was a human creature on all fours; and, as he had certainly been himself seen, he thought he lost nothing by rushing out on the intruder.
A man, creeping along under an ox-hide, started up, and proved to be Franz.
"What do you here?" cried Hofer.
"Why, Sandwirth, can that be you?" said Franz, in seeming astonishment. "Why, how you surprise me! ”

“ Not very much by way of a literary portrait, and yet one can fill it in for oneself, can place her in old-world Reigate, fast, alas! becoming over-built and over-populated like all the rest of the country over which falls the ever-lengthening London shadow. As one ponders upon Forest Hill for Mary Powell's sake—is not Shotover as dear a name as Shottery?—and Chalfont for Milton's sake, one thinks on Reigate surrounded by its hills for Anne Manning's sake, and keeps the place in one's heart. ”

“ As for exaggeration, nobody possessed of any feeling could consistently accuse me of having too much of it."
"I am the last person to make an inconsistent accusation," observed Vittoria, "and my own irreparable and immense loss is too world-known for any one to say I want feeling. I think, cousin, there is no one in Italy, unless yourself, who has not compassionated me in having been bereaved of my beloved, adored Pescara, a man of infinite virtues, graces, and attractions; in war a hero, in wisdom a sage; in love and constancy a perfect phœnix,—reft from me, me wretched! ”

“ As the barge brings us past old London Bridge to the Chelsea stairs, the mansion of the Chancellor stands before us in the warm sun as when Ellis Heywood saw it three centuries and a half ago. The children play in the garden, the Jew tells his [l] story, the peacocks flaunt their gay colours, and More reads his old books and cracks his jests, as if the old time had come back again. Bright pictures indeed, and a worthy setting; and the old story is told anew as More himself and Holbein might have loved to think of it. But good wines need no bush, and good pictures no prologue. ”

“ Thank God!" said Hofer.
"Thank God," said Speckbacher, "I feel I've done right."
"Rely on it. The wonder to me, brother, is, that you could ever have been over-persuaded. What! is our love of our country a mere dream? How many have already laid down their lives for it! For my part, I can die for freedom, but I cannot live a slave. Will Austria, think you, be angry in her heart, that we continue the defence of the cause? On the contrary, she will secretly rejoice in every success. ”

“ But ah! where shall then the unrighteous and sinner appear?"
"You seem to have a natural gift for preaching," said La Croissette, after a pause. "Where will they appear, say you? Why, if our priests are to be believed, those of them, even the very worst, who have money enough to pay for masses and indulgences, may buy themselves off from purgatory, and shine in glory with the best."
"Does not that carry incredibility and absurdity on the very face of it?"
"It seems very hard on the poor man who can't buy himself off," said La Croissette. "You Huguenots, then, don't believe in it?" ”

“ Giles's is happily still in a good state of preservation, although Chalfont and its neighbourhood have suffered a sea-change even since Dr. Hutton wrote, a decade ago. All that quiet corner of the world, for so long green and secluded,—a "deare secret greennesse"—has now had the light of the world let in upon it. Motor-cars whizz through that Quaker country; money-making Londoners hurry away from it of mornings, trudge home of evenings, bag in hand; the jerry-builder is in the land, and the dust of much traffic lies upon the rose and eglantine wherewith Milton's eyes were delighted. ”

“ Only that as we passed near the house of good old Monsieur de Laccassagne, we could hear the abominable uproar of drums within it, and it would seem as if all the drummers in Nismes must have been congregated to drive the poor old gentleman to distraction. We had also seen in the distance, floods of light streaming from the windows of the cathedral, and heard a strange murmur of cries, and we afterwards learnt that multitudes of poor people of the baser sort had been driven like oxen or silly sheep into the church, pricked on by the dragoons' swords and shouts of "Kill! kill!" ”

“ And our knowledge is barren indeed if it does not touch the intimacies of human existence. What we must know is how men lived and thought, not merely how they acted. We must see them in the home, and not only in the senate or the field. It is thus that the Letters of Erasmus, or Luther's Table Talk, are worth a [xi] ton of Sleidan's dreary commentaries or Calvin's systematic theology. And yet we cannot dispense with either. We must study past ages as a whole, and then bring the imagination of the artist and the poet to show us the truth and the passion that lies nearest to their heart. ”

“ Anyhow, it is not rest; and God bade us rest, mind you, on the Sabbath-day."
"Pleasure is rest," said Franz.
"No, pleasure is often the hardest of work," said the Sandwirth.
"That's true, too," said Speckbacher, as if a sudden light streamed in upon him.
"Well, I know, to lie on my back with nothing to do but twiddle my thumbs, would to me be the hardest work of all," said Franz.
"I wonder," said Speckbacher, after a short pause, "if such are your views, that you mean to have a Sunday shooting-match at all." ”

“ Fie on you, Giulia! with all your advantages, you ought not to sit and wail about nothing. I think you loved Ippolito more than you say you did, or you would not give way so."
"I did not love Ippolito at all," said Giulia, nettled. "I suppose one may be sorry for a friend, without having been in love with him. You do injustice to the memory of my dear Duke, to suppose I could ever forget him."
"As to that," said Vittoria, "considering your good Duke's years and infirmities, it is difficult for any one to see why you should be inconsolable. ”

“ I tried to raise myself a little and look around, but was beaten and bruised so that I was in agonies of pain, and sank back on the ground. The cold made my wounded feet smart indescribably; but while, with closed eyes, I was inwardly murmuring, "Lord, help thy poor servant, for I cannot help myself;" something that made me wince with pain, but the next moment gave exquisite relief, was applied to the soles of my feet, and the next instant I heard the hushed voices of those who were dearest to me on earth, my mother and Madeleine "Can it be that we are too late?" said Madeleine. ”

“ When he got to Dalilah, I could not forbear saying, "How hard you are upon Women, Father!"
"Hard?" repeated he; "I think I am anything but that. Do you call me hard on Eve, and the Lady in Comus?"
"No, indeed," I returned. "The Lady, like Una, makes Sunshine in a shady Place; and, in fact, how should it be otherwise? For Truth and Purity, like Diamonds, shine in the Dark." ”

“ Scarcely had the sun begun to gild the mountain-tops, when Theresa stood beside the river with her milk-pail on her head, inquiring of Rudolf, who was fishing in the shade, how many trout he had caught for Father Joachim's breakfast.
Carrying a pail or pitcher on the head gives the neck an erect, noble carriage—reining it up, as it were: and Theresa, in her short, scanty grass-green petticoat, and black bodice laced with scarlet, might have stood for the Princess Nausicaa, as her laughing black eyes looked down on the young fisherman from beneath their long lashes. ”

“ You know that the Scriptures have helped me to understand my own book. David and St. Paul are nothing to us, in comparison with God and Christ. In the Old Testament we read of a God of vengeance, and a Lord of hosts; for to the Jews he exhibited himself but through a glass darkly. But we know him through Christ, and, in seeing one, we see the other. Oh, then, how is it we are insensible to such love? A man would give the whole world, if he had it, to save the life of an only son: God gave His own Son to save an ungrateful world."
"That is a strong figure," said Ochino, with emotion. ”

“ I am one of those who deal in deeds more than words. I cannot patter Ave Marias with a Catholic, nor sing interminable psalms like a Huguenot, but neither can I endure the ways the Catholics are taking to compel the Huguenots to submission. I take my own way, d'ye see, and am fettered by nobody. No one would molest La Croissette the needle-seller, not even a dragoon. And I have learnt to esteem you all; I admire the young ladies, and respect the old lady and gentleman. ”

“ Instead of setting us aside to cool, he stirs up the fire hotter and hotter, never minding our boiling and bubbling, so long as we don't boil over. Well, supposing fused metal had the feelings of a man, just fancy its state! At last the scum parts! the pure, bright silver appears!—he stoops over it, sees in it his own face,—takes us to heaven!"
"Oh me! I don't believe I could stand all that!" cried Speckbacher, turning pale. "You might, but I couldn't!"
"God only knows our hearts," replied the Sandwirth. ”

“ After this, she inspected the embroidery of her maids of honour, and thought of fourteen rhymes as the skeleton of a sonnet.
She had advanced thus far in this well-spent day, when the sound of horses' feet made her suddenly aware of the approach of a visitor. Now, our Duchess did not like being caught; it was very seldom, indeed, that she could be caught in déshabille; for she enjoyed the consciousness of being at all times a perfectly well-dressed woman. ”

“ We came up with a wagon, with the driver of which Antoine fell into conversation for some time, but what they said I could not well hear. At length we reached the water-side, at a landing-place where a boat laden with kitchen stuff was awaiting us. Here Antoine saw me safely placed in charge of the boatman, who bade me never fear, for he would safely carry me to Bordeaux. We pushed off: the moon shone cold and bright; the air on the river felt fresh and chill. The boatman threw a warm covering on me, bade me sleep, and began a monotonous boat-song. ”

“ The works of our hands often mock us by their durability. Years and ages and centuries after the busy brain and the feeling heart are dust, the houses built with hands stand up to taunt our mortality. Yet the works of the mind remain. Though Forest Hill be only a party-wall, and Chalfont a suburb of London, the Forest Hill of Mary Powell, the Chalfont of Milton, yet live for us in Anne Manning's delightful pages. ”

“ Whenever a man has put to me the question, 'Are you Hofer?' I have never yet said 'No;' and I cannot begin now."
Anna was going to remonstrate; but he smiled rather sadly at her and said—
"It would be to little good, dear—we are already discovered by Franz."
Here Johann burst into a loud fit of crying, and flung himself on the straw; while Anna stood speechless.
"We had better go somewhere else, then," said she, after a moment.
"Where? We dare not descend into the valleys; and if we stray about the mountains, Rudolf will not know where to find us, and we shall perish with hunger. ”

“ CHAPTER IV. MOORISH SLAVES.
A clatter of horses' feet in the court-yard announced the arrival of new guests; and when these proved to be noble kinsmen and friends of the Duchess, who had hastened to rally round her in her danger, the Cardinal inly congratulated himself on having been the first comer and the recipient of her first thanks.
The old feudal castle, lately the nest of a few defenceless women, now resounded with the clank of arms. Nothing could be more graceful than the Duchess's reception of her guests. ”

“ It seemed like the roar of a lion close to my ear, and I started up in wild affright, fancying myself a Christian prisoner about to be thrown to the wild beasts. All around was dark as pitch—the lamp had gone out! The frightful bellowing continued without intermission; and, besides, there were sobs and screams, brutal laughter and cursing. Dreadful moment! Presently a spark of light momentarily illumined our cell, and showed the anxious face of my mother, as she re-kindled the lamp, surrounded by the terrified children and girls, roused from their sleep by the hideous uproar. ”

“ Franz walked on, silent and astounded, doubting which of them were the wickeder man. "The Sandwirth," resumed he, at length, with a choke in his voice, "has never done me a wrong—on the contrary, nothing but good. It is only Theresa—"
"Ah, if you can put up with that girl's scorn, you can put up with anything," said Father Donay contemptuously.
"I can't put up with it, and won't!" cried Franz; "but it's making her pay pretty dearly, too, if her father gets shot."
"Don't be such a dolt as to suppose it," said Father Donay pacifyingly; "the worst he and she will get is a good fright. ”

“ He chatters and laughs with them too much."
"I should like to see him chatter and laugh with my maids," said Vittoria, kindling. "He should not do so twice."
"Ah," said Giulia, after a pause—"I wish I were as good as you, Vittoria—"
"My dear soul, I am not good."
"You are a great deal better than I am. Such as I am, I am and ever shall be."
"Hush, we can none of us say that!"
"At any rate, there is no good thing in me, to impart to others. And the girls do very well as they are—they stick to their needles." ”