by any human motives or selfish considerations, Paul
wisely concluded that “he and his whole house”
would become reconciled to the church. And so
they were. Mr. Clarke was the first member of
the “Literary and Religious Society of Vermont”
who became a convert. The next was the reverend
president of the society; afterward one and another,
till the entire society, consisting of some fifty
members, submitted themselves to the sweet yoke of
faith; and now there is a church, a resident priest,
in that very locality, and using the very meeting
house where the ex-Episcopalian minister preached.
Under God, all these conversions were owing to the
tact, prudence, and other admirable virtues, as well
as the thorough Catholic education, of Paul.
To this very day, Mr. Clarke, the Rev. Mr. Strongly,
and many other members of the society acknowledge that
it is to the circumstance of Paul’s living in
Mr. Clarke’s family that he owed his conversion,
and that the secession of Mr. Clarke from their ranks
was what principally hastened the conversion of the
whole society. Thus God frequently makes use
of what appears to us very inadequate means to the
most glorious results. Thus are the weak and humble
of his church made use of, like David, to subdue her
enemies, and bring them under the salutary sway of
her dominion. And while this servant boy and that
hired girl are acting the hypocrite in attending this
master’s meeting, or joining his long prayers,
or eating meat on Friday, in violation of the precepts
of the church, they are becoming stumbling blocks on
his way to salvation—resisting the design
of God, who wishes all men to be saved, as well as
ruining their own souls. “He that despiseth
small things shall fall by little and little.”
While these events were the order of the day in Vermont,
the proselytizers in York were not idle. Amanda
now, since Paul had not only left the house, but even
went away from the neighborhood, thought she, and
her coadjutors the parsons, would have little difficulty
in converting Bridget. But the latter now, besides
having once a month an opportunity of hearing mass,—the
new priest, Father Ugo, having made it a rule to visit
the railroad laborers as often as he could, and being
pretty well grounded in the catechism,—in
addition to these very important aids to combat temptation,
Bridget had also Murty O’Dwyer, who was hired
in the house, to take up the cudgels for her against
Amanda and Parson Gulmore.
“Prepare, Bridget, to come with me this evening
to Sabbath school,” said the persevering Amanda.
“I want to show them how well you can read, and
also I want them to admire these nice flowers of your
hat, and your pretty new dress, to see how smart you
look.”
“Why, miss, if that be all you want, I can’t
go, for that would be a sin. Vanity, you know,”
said the little roguish girl, looking sarcastically
at Amanda.
“I am the best judge of that, missy,”
said the old maid. “Go on and prepare:
you must come. You are getting very ugly since
you got the habit of seeing that old priest of late.”