All through his book Henry exhibits his familiarity
with the intentions of God, and with the reasons for
his intentions. Sometimes—very often,
in fact—the act follows the intention after
such a wide interval of time that one wonders how
Henry could fit one act out of a hundred to one intention
out of a hundred and get the thing right every time
when there was such abundant choice among acts and
intentions. Sometimes a man offends the Deity
with a crime, and is punished for it thirty years
later; meantime he was committed a million other crimes:
no matter, Henry can pick out the one that brought
the worms. Worms were generally used in those
days for the slaying of particularly wicked people.
This has gone out, now, but in old times it was a
favorite. It always indicated a case of “wrath.”
For instance:
. . . the just God avenging Robert Fitzhilderbrand’s
perfidy, a worm grew in his vitals, which gradually
gnawing its way through his intestines fattened on
the abandoned man till, tortured with excruciating
sufferings and venting himself in bitter moans, he
was by a fitting punishment brought to his end. —(P.
400.)
It was probably an alligator, but we cannot tell;
we only know it was a particular breed, and only used
to convey wrath. Some authorities think it was
an ichthyosaurus, but there is much doubt.
However, one thing we do know; and that is that that
worm had been due years and years. Robert F.
had violated a monastery once; he had committed unprintable
crimes since, and they had been permitted—under
disapproval—but the ravishment of the monastery
had not been forgotten nor forgiven, and the worm
came at last.
Why were these reforms put off in this strange way?
What was to be gained by it? Did Henry of Huntington
really know his facts, or was he only guessing?
Sometimes I am half persuaded that he is only a guesser,
and not a good one. The divine wisdom must surely
be of the better quality than he makes it out to be.
Five hundred years before Henry’s time some
forecasts of the Lord’s purposes were furnished
by a pope, who perceived, by certain perfectly trustworthy
signs furnished by the Deity for the information of
His familiars, that the end of the world was
. . . about to come. But as this end of the
world draws near many things are at hand which have
not before happened, as changes in the air, terrible
signs in the heavens, tempests out of the common order
of the seasons, wars, famines, pestilences, earthquakes
in various places; all which will not happen in our
days, but after our days all will come to pass.
Still, the end was so near that these signs were “sent
before that we may be careful for our souls and be
found prepared to meet the impending judgment.”
That was thirteen hundred years ago. This is
really no improvement on the work of the Roman augurs.
CONCERNING TOBACCO
Copyrights
What Is Man? and Other Essays from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.