“Yea, my son, there is a God,” said the monk; “but His ways are not as ours.  A thousand years in His sight are but as yesterday, as a watch in the night.  He shall come, and shall not keep silence.”

“Perhaps you do not know, father,” said the young man, “that I, too, am excommunicated.  I am excommunicated, because, Caesar Borgia having killed my oldest brother, and dishonored and slain my sister, and seized on all our possessions, and the Pope having protected and confirmed him therein, I declare the Pope to be not of God, but of the Devil.  I will not submit to him, nor be ruled by him; and I and my fellows will make good our mountains against him and his crew with such right arms as the good Lord hath given us.”

“The Lord be with you, my son!” said the monk; “and the Lord bring His Church out of these deep waters!  Surely, it is a lovely and beautiful Church, made dear and precious by innumerable saints and martyrs who have given their sweet lives up willingly for it; and it is full of records of righteousness, of prayers and alms and works of mercy that have made even the very dust of our Italy precious and holy.  Why hast Thou abandoned this vine of Thy planting, O Lord?  The boar out of the wood doth waste it; the wild beast of the field doth devour it.  Return, we beseech Thee, and visit this vine of Thy planting!”

The monk clasped his hands and looked upward pleadingly, the tears running down his wasted cheeks.  Ah, many such strivings and prayers in those days went up from silent hearts in obscure solitudes, that wrestled and groaned under that mighty burden which Luther at last received strength to heave from the heart of the Church.

“Then, father, you do admit that one may be banned by the Pope, and may utterly refuse and disown him, and yet be a Christian?”

“How can I otherwise?” said the monk.  “Do I not see the greatest saint this age or any age has ever seen under the excommunication of the greatest sinner?  Only, my son, let me warn you.  Become not irreverent to the true Church, because of a false usurper.  Reverence the sacraments, the hymns, the prayers all the more for this sad condition in which you stand.  What teacher is more faithful in these respects than my master?  Who hath more zeal for our blessed Lord Jesus, and a more living faith in Him?  Who hath a more filial love and tenderness towards our blessed Mother?  Who hath more reverent communion with all the saints than he?  Truly, he sometimes seems to me to walk encompassed by all the armies of heaven,—­such a power goes forth in his words, and such a holiness in his life.”

“Ah,” said Agostino, “would I had such a confessor!  The sacraments might once more have power for me, and I might cleanse my soul from unbelief.”

“Dear son,” said the monk, “accept a most unworthy, but sincere follower of this holy prophet, who yearns for thy salvation.  Let me have the happiness of granting to thee the sacraments of the Church, which, doubtless, are thine by right as one of the flock of the Lord Jesus.  Come to me some day this week in confession, and thereafter thou shalt receive the Lord within thee, and be once more united to Him.”