In Convent Walls Part 37

"Have I too much self-a.s.sertion, Sister?" I said, feeling sorry it should be thus plain to all my Sisters. "I will really--"

Sister Gaillarde patted me on the shoulder with her grimmest smile.

"You will really spoil every body you come near!" said she. "Go your ways, Sister Annora, and leave the wasps in the garden a-be."

"Why, I do," said I, "without they sting me."

"Exactly!" said Sister Gaillarde, laughing, and away. I know not what she meant.

Mother Joan is something troubled with her eyes, and the leech thinks it best she should no longer be over the illumination-room, but be set to some manner of work that will try the sight less. So I am appointed thereto in her stead. I cannot say I am sorry, for I shall see more of Joan, since in this chamber she pa.s.ses three mornings of a week. I mean my child Joan, for verily she is the child of mine heart. And my very soul yearns over her, for Sister though I be, I cannot help the thought that had it not been for Queen Isabel's unjust dealing, I should have been her mother. May the good Lord forgive me, if it be sin! I know now, that those deep grey eyes of hers, with the long black lashes, which stirred mine heart so strangely when she first came hither, are the eyes of my lost love. I knew in myself that I had known such eyes aforetime, but it seemed to be long, long ago, as though in another world. Much hath Joan told me of him; and all I hear sets him before me as man worthy of the best love of a good woman's heart, and whom mine heart did no wrong to in its enduring love. And I am coming to think-- seeing, as it were, dimly, through a mist--that such love is not sin, neither disgrace, even in the heart of a maid devoted unto G.o.d. For He knoweth that I put Him first: and take His ordering of my life, as being His, not only as just and holy, but as the best lot for me, and that which shall be most to His glory and mine own true welfare. I say not this openly, nor unto such as should be likely to misconceive me. There are some to whose pure and devoted souls all things indifferent are pure; and they are they that shall see G.o.d. And man saith that in the world there are some also, unto whose vile and corrupt hearts all things indifferent are impure; and maybe not in the world only, but by times even in the cloister. So I feel that some might misread my meaning, and take ill advantage thereof; and I keep my thoughts to myself, and to G.o.d. I never ask Joan one question touching him of whom I treasure every bye-note that she uttereth. Yet I know not how it is, but she seems to love to tell me of him. Is it by reason she hath loved, that her heart hath eyes to see into mine?

Not much doth Joan say of her mother to me: I think she names her more to others. Methinks I see what she was--a good woman as women go (and some of them go ill), with a little surface cleverness, that she reckoned to run deeper than it did, and inclined to despise her lord by reason his wit lay further down, and came not up in glittering bubbles to the top. I dare reckon she looked well to his bodily comforts and such, and was a better wife than he might have had: very likely, a better than poor Alianora La Despenser would have made, had G.o.d ordered it thus. Methinks, from all I hear, that he hath pa.s.sed behind the jasper walls: and I pray G.o.d I may meet him there. They wed not, nor be given in marriage, being equal unto the angels: but surely the angels love.

Strange talk it was that Joan held with me yesterday. I marvel what it may portend. She says, of late years many priests have put forth writings, wherein they say that the Church is greatly fallen away from the verity of Scripture, and that all through the ages good men have said the same (as was the case with the blessed Robert de Grosteste, Bishop of Lincoln, over two hundred years gone, and with the holy Thomas de Bradwardine, Archbishop of Canterbury, and with Richard Rolle, the hermit of Hampole, whose holy meditations on the Psalter are in our library, and I have oft read therein): but now is there further stir, as though some reforming of the Church should arise, such as Bishop Grosteste did earnestly desire. Joan says her lord is earnest for these new opinions, and eager to promote them: and that he saith that both in the Church and in matters politic, men sleep and nap for a season, during which slow decay goes on apace, and then all at once do they wake up, and set to work to mend matters. During the reign of this present King, saith he, the world and the Church have had a long nap; and now are they just awake, and looking round to see how matters are all over dust and ivy, which lack cleansing away. Divers, both clerks and laymen, are thus bestirring themselves: the foremost of whom is my Lord of Lancaster, the King's son [John of Gaunt], among the lay folk, and among the clergy, one Father Wycliffe [Note 1], that was head of a College at Oxenford, and is now Rector of Lutterworth in Leicestershire.

He saith (that is, Father Wycliffe) that all things are thus gone to corruption by reason of lack of the salt preservative to be found in Holy Scripture. Many years back, did King Alfred our forefather set forth much of the said Scriptures in the English tongue; as much, indeed, as he had time, for his death hindered it, else had all the holy hooks been rendered into our English tongue. But now, by reason of years, the English that was in his day is gone clean out of mind, and man cannot understand the same: so there is great need for another rendering that man may understand now. And this Father Wycliffe hopes to effect, if G.o.d grant him grace. But truly, some marvellous strange notions hath he. Joan says he would fain do away with all endowing of the Church, saying that our Lord and the Apostles had no such provision: but was that by reason it was right, or because of the hardness of men's hearts? Surely the holy women that ministered to Him of their substance did well, not ill. Moreover, he would have all monkery done away, yea, clean out of the realm, and he hath mighty hard names for monks, especially the Mendicant Friars: yet of nuns was he never heard to speak an unkindly word. Strange matter, in good sooth! it nearly takes away my breath but to hear tell of it. But when he saith that the Pope should have no right nor power in this realm of England, that is but what the Church of England hath alway held: Bishop Grosteste did as fervently abhor the Pope's power--"Egyptian bondage" was his word for it. Much has this Father also to say against simony: and he would have no private confession to a priest (verily, this would I gladly see abolished), nor indulgences, nor letters of fraternity, nor pilgrimages, nor guilds: and he sets his face against the new fashion of singing ma.s.s [intoning, then a new invention], and the use of incense in the churches. But strangest of all is it to hear of his inveighing against the doctrine of the Church that the sacred host is G.o.d's Body. It is so, saith he, in figure, and Christ's Body is not eaten of men save ghostly and morally. And to eat Christ ghostly is to have mind of Him, how kindly He suffered for man, which is ghostly meat to the soul.

[Arnold's English Works of Wycliffe, Volume 2, pages 93, 112.]

Here is new doctrine! Yet Father Wycliffe, I hear, saith this is the old doctrine of the Apostles themselves, and that the contrary is the new, having never (saith he) been heard of before the time of one Radbert, who did first set it forth five hundred years ago [in 787]: and after that it slumbered--being then condemned of the holy doctors--till the year of our Lord G.o.d 1215, when the Pope that then was forced it on the Church. Strange matter this! I know not what to think.

Joan says some of these new doctrine priests go further than Father Wycliffe himself, and even cast doubt on Purgatory and the worship [this word then merely meant "honour"] of our Lady. Ah me! if they can prove from G.o.d's Word that Purgatory is not, I would chant many thanksgivings thereon! All these years, when I knew not if my lost love were dead or alive, have I thought with dread of that awful land of darkness and sorrow: yet not knowing, I could have no ma.s.ses sung for him; and had I been so able, I could never have told for whom they were, but only have asked for them for my father and mother and all Christian souls, and have offered mine own communion with intention thereto. Ay, and many a time--dare I confess it?--I have offered the same with that intent, if he should be to G.o.d commanded [dead]--knowing that G.o.d knew, and humbly trusting in His mercy if I did ill. But for the worship of our Lady, that is pa.s.sing strange, specially to me that am religious woman. For we were always taught what a blessing it was that we had a woman to whom we might carry our griefs and sorrows, seeing G.o.d is a man, and not so like to enter into a woman's feelings. But these priests say--I am almost afraid to write it--this is dishonouring Christ who died for us, and who therefore must needs be full of tenderness for them for whom He died, and cannot need man nor woman--not even His own mother--to stand betwixt them and Him. O my Lord, have I been all these years dishonouring Thee, and setting up another, even though it be Thy blessed mother, between Thee and me? Yet surely He regardeth her honour full diligently! Said He not to Saint John, "Behold thy mother?"--and doth not that Apostle represent the whole Church, who are thereby commanded to regard her, each righteous man, as his own very mother? [This is the teaching of the Church of Rome.] I remember the blessed Hermit of Hampole scarcely makes mention of her: it is all Christ in his book.

And if it be so--of which Joan ensures me--in the Word of G.o.d, whereof she hath read books that I have missed--verily, I know not what to think.

Lord, Thou wist what is error! Save me therefrom. Thou wist what is truth: guide me therein!

It would seem that I have erred in offering my communions at all. For if to eat Christ's Body be only to have mind of Him--and this is according to His own word, "_Hoc facite in meam commemorationem_"--how then can there be at all any offering of sacrifice in the holy ma.s.s?

Joan says that Saint Paul's Epistle to the Hebrews saith that we be hallowed by the oblation of the body of Jesus Christ once, and that where remission is, there is no more oblation for sin. Truly we have need to pray, Lord, guide us into Thy truth! and yet more, Lord, keep us therein! I must think hereon. In sooth, this I do, and then up rises some great barrier to the new doctrine, which I lay before Joan: and as quickly as the sun can break forth and melt a spoonful of snow, does she clear all away with some word of Saint Paul. She has his Epistles right at her tongue's end. For instance, quoth I,--"Christ said He should bestow the Holy Spirit, to lead the Church into all truth. How then can the Church err?"

"What Church?" said she, boldly. "The Church is all righteous men that hold Christ's words: not the Pope and Cardinals and such like. These last have no right to hold the first in bondage."

"But," said I, "Father Benedict told me Saint Paul bade the religious to obey their superiors: how much more all men to obey the Church?"

"I marvel," saith she, "where Father Benedict found that. Never a word says Paul touching religious persons: there were none in his day."

"No religious in Paul's day!" cried I.

"Never so much as one," saith she: "not a monk, not a nun! Friar Pareshull himself told me so much; he is a great man among us. Saint Peter bids the clergy not to dominate over inferiors; Saint Paul says to the Ephesians that out of themselves (he was speaking to the clergy) should arise heretics speaking perversely; and Saint John says, 'Believe not every spirit, but prove the spirits if they be of G.o.d.' Dear Mother Annora, we are nowhere bidden in Scripture to obey the Church save only once, and that concerns the settling of a dispute betwixt two members of it. Obey the Church! why, we are ourselves the Church. Has not Father Rolle taught you so much? 'Holy Kirk,' quoth he--'that is, ilk righteous man's soul.' Verily, all Churches be empowered of Christ to make laws for their own people: but why then must the Church of England obey laws made by the Bishop of Rome?"

"Therein," said I, "can I fully hold with thee."

"And for all things," she said earnestly, "let us hold to G.o.d's law, and take our interpretation of it not from men, but straight from G.o.d Himself. Lo! here is the promise of the Holy Ghost a.s.sured unto the Church--to you, to me, to each one that followeth Christ. They that keep His words and are indwelt of His Spirit--these, dear Mother, are the Church of G.o.d, and to them is the truth promised."

I said nought, for I knew not what to answer.

"There is yet another thing," saith Joan, dropping her voice low. "Can that be G.o.d's Church which contradicts G.o.d's Word? David saith 'Over all things Thou hast magnified Thy Name' [Note 2]: but I have heard of a most wise man, that could read ancient volumes and dead tongues, that Saint Hierome set not down the true words, namely, 'Over all Thy Name Thou hast magnified Thy Word.' Now, if this be so--if G.o.d hath set up His Word over all His Name--the very highest part of Himself--how dare any a.s.semblage of men to gainsay it? What then of these indulgences and licences to sin, which the Popes set forth? what of their suffering them to wed whom G.o.d has forbidden, and forbidding it to priests to whom G.o.d has suffered it? Surely this is the very thing which G.o.d points at, 'teaching for doctrines the commandments of men.'"

"But, Joan," said I, "my dear heart, did not our Lord say, 'Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in Heaven?' Surely that authorises the Church to do as she will."

"Contrary unto G.o.d's Word? It may give her leave to do her will within the limits of the Word: I trow not contrary thereto. When the King giveth plenipotentiary powers to his Keeper of the Great Seal, his own deposing and superseding, I reckon, are not among them. 'All things are subject unto Christ,' saith Paul; 'doubtless excepting Him which did subject all things unto Him.' So, if G.o.d give power of loosing and binding to His Church, it cannot be meant that she shall bind Himself who thus endowed her, contrary to His own will and law."

I answered nought, again, for a little while. At last I said, "Joan, there is a word that troubles me, and religious folks are always quoting it. 'If a man hate not his father and his mother'--and so forth--he cannot be our Lord's disciple. I think I have heard it from one or another every week since I came here. What say these new doctrine folks that it means?"

"Ours are old doctrines, Mother dear," saith she; "as old as the Apostles of Christ. What means it? Why, go forth to the end, and you will see what it means: he is to hate his own soul also. Is he then to kill himself, or to go wilfully into perdition? Nay, what can it mean, but only that even these dearest and worthiest loves are to be set below the worthier than them all, the love of the glory of G.o.d? That our Lord never meant a religious person should neglect his father and mother, is plainly to be seen by another word of His, wherein he rebukes the priests of His day, because they taught that a man might bestow in oblation to G.o.d what his father's or his mother's need demanded of him.

Here again, he reproves them, because they rejected the command of G.o.d in order to keep their own tradition. You see, therefore, that when the Church doth this, it is not ratified in Heaven."

"Then," said I, after a minute's thought, "I am not bidden to hate myself, any more than my relations?"

"Why should we hate one whom G.o.d loveth?" she answered. "To hate our selfishness is not to hate ourselves."

I sat a while silent, setting red eyes and golden claws to my green wyvern, and Joan ran the white dots along her griffin's tail. When she came to the fork of the tail, she laid down her brush.

"Mother," she saith--the dear grey eyes looking up into my face--"shall we read together the holy Scripture, and beseech G.o.d to lead us into all truth?"

"Dear child, we will do so," said I. "Joan, didst thou ever read in holy Scripture that it was wicked to kiss folks?"

She smiled. "I have read there of one," saith she, "who stole up behind the holiest of all men that ever breathed, and kissed His feet: and the rebuke she won from Him was no more than this: 'Her many sins are forgiven her, and she loved much.' So, if a full sinful woman might kiss Christ without rebuke, methinks, if it please you, Mother dear, you might kiss me."

Well, I knew all my life of that woman, but I never thought of it that way before, and it is marvellous comforting unto me.

My Lady sent this morning for all the Mothers together. Mine heart went pitter-patter, as it always doth when I am summoned to her chamber. It is only because of her office: for if she were no more than a common Sister, I am sorely afraid I should reckon her a selfish, lazy woman: but being Lady Prioress, I cannot presume to sit in judgment on my superiors thus far. We found that she had sent for us to introduce us to the new confessor, whose name is Father Mortimer, he is tall, and good-looking (so far as I, a Sister, can understand what is thought to be so in the world), and has dark, flashing eyes, which remind me of Margaret's, and I should say also of that priest that once confessed us, did I not feel certain that this is the same priest himself. He will begin his duties this evening at compline.

Sister Gaillarde said to me as we came forth from my Lady,--"Had I been a heathen Greek, and lived at the right time, methinks I should have wed Democritus."

"Democritus! who was he?" said I.

"He was named the Laughing Philosopher," said she, "because he was ever laughing at men and things. And methinks he did well."

"What is there to laugh at, Sister Gaillarde?"

"Nothing you saw, Saint Annora."

"Now you are laughing at me," said I, with a smile.

"My laugh will never hurt you," answered she. "But truly, betwixt Sister Ada and the peac.o.c.k--They both spread their plumes to be looked at. I wonder which Father Mortimer will admire most."

"You surely never mean," said I, much shocked, "that Sister Ada expects Father Mortimer to admire her!"

"Oh, she means nothing ill," said Sister Gaillarde. "She only admires Ada Mansell so thoroughly herself, that she cannot conceive it possible that any one can do otherwise. Let her spread her feathers--it won't hurt. Any way, it will not hurt him. He isn't that sort of animal."

Indeed, I hope he is not.

When my Lady dismissed us, I went to my work in the illumination-room, where Joan, with Sister Annot and Sister Josia, awaited my coming. I bade Sister Josia finish the Holy Family she was painting yesterday for a missal which we are preparing for my Lord's Grace of York; I told Sister Annot to lay the gold leaf on the Book of Hours writing for my Lady of Suffolk; and as Margaret, who commonly works with her, was not yet come, I began myself to show Joan how to coil up the tail of a griffin--she said, to put a yard of tail into an inch of parchment. It appeared to amuse her very much to see how I twisted and interlaced the tracery, so as to fill up every little corner of the parallelogram.

When the outline was drawn, and she began to fill it with cobalt, as I sat by, she said suddenly yet softly--

"Mother Annora, I have been considering whether I should tell you something."

"Tell me what, dear child?" quoth I.

"I am afraid," said she, "I shocked you yesterday, making you think I was scarcely sound in the faith. Yet where can lie the verity of the faith, if not in Holy Writ? And I marvelled if it should aggrieve you less, if you knew one thing--yet that might give you pain."