The Chevalier's daughter : $b or, An exile for the truthGuernsey, Lucy Ellen
History
The Chevalier's daughter : $b or, An exile for the truth
Guernsey, Lucy Ellen
France -- History -- Louis XIV, 1643-1715 -- Juvenile fiction; Historical fiction; Huguenots -- France -- Juvenile fiction
"I do not prefer it, madam," answered Mercer. "I choose it, because I
know that I shall be putting myself out of the way of temptation, and
into the way of doing good. Besides, madame, I am a simple unlearned
woman who does not know how to answer for her faith, and to say the
truth, I would not like to trust myself among a family all made up of
Papists."
"You are very bigoted," said I, in a superior tone. "Don't you suppose
there are as good Christians among Papists as you call them, as there
are among Protestants? Don't you believe a Papist can be saved?"
"As to that," answered Mercer readily, "that there are those among
them that live up to their lights, such as they are, I don't deny,
but I don't say nor believe that they are as good Christians as they
would be if their lights were brighter. As to their being saved, that
is no business of mine. I know that the Scriptures are very hard upon
idolaters, especially those idolaters who might know better."
"But the Papists do not worship images," I said. "The veneration of
holy images is permitted because this veneration is not paid to the
image itself, but to that which it represents."
"But the second commandment is explicit about that," returned Mercer.
"That very veneration is forbidden, because we are not to bow down to
them. Besides if there is nothing in the image itself, why do they
venerate one image so much more than another?"
"Oh, you are a great casuist," said I. "I wonder you do not take orders
instead of going into a school. The long and the short of it is, you
think it will be a fine thing to set up for yourself and to have a
parcel of young ladies to govern."
"You are mistaken, madame," answered Mercer, with enough of dignity to
make me ashamed of my petulance. "If you were to remain here in London
or to go into the country, even down to that barbarous Cornwall, that
my poor dear lady dreaded so much, I would give up all thoughts of
going into the school, and stay with you as long as you wished, and
that for your dear mother's sake as well as your own. But into the
family of Madame de Fayrolles I will not go. And I do beg and entreat
you, Mrs. Vevette, to think twice before you do so. Think of what your
mother would say—think!"
But the conversation was here interrupted by a call from my aunt. She
did not seem at all displeased when I told her of Mercer's decision.
"It is just as well," said she. "Of course, if you wished for the good
woman, and she desired to come, I should say nothing against it; but it
would not have been comfortable for her or you. But I wonder she should
refuse so good an offer."
"It was a case of conscience, I believe," said I. "She was afraid of
being converted."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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