The Secret of Confession by Fr Paul O'Sullivan O.P

Author:Fr Paul O'Sullivan O.P. [O'Sullivan O.P., Fr Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780895558756
Publisher: TAN Books
Published: 2009-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

Cardinal Mermillod and the Actress

God’s Sweet Mercy, Man’s Awful Justice

Jesus and Sinners

The World’s Greatest Scourge

Movie Theaters, Dens of Immorality

The Snake in the Grass

Facts, Facts, Facts

Chapter 10

CARDINAL MERMILLOD AND THE ACTRESS

The following story, told us by Cardinal Mermillod, is a beautiful illustration of what Confession really can do. The fact happened to the Cardinal himself and is one of the thousands of such incidents that are daily occurring and which give priests the most intense consolation.

His Eminence was at the time a simple priest, active, bright and keenly intelligent. He was heart and soul into his work; with him there were no half measures. Duty was not only sacred, it was a passion. There were very few priests in Geneva at that time; the duties of the mission were onerous and the atmosphere distinctly hostile.

One evening—it was rather late and he was tired, the day had been a busy one—a loud rap called him to the door. A young man, well dressed and of prepossessing manner, entered and told him that his ministrations were needed. A lady was in danger of death. In reply to his inquiry whether the case were urgent, the messenger said that the case was grave and that he was requested to call the next day at that same hour. The house was distant and in a district little known to Fr. Mermillod, who, therefore, carefully took note of the address.

Mindful of his promise, he made his way on the following evening to the home of the sick lady, which he found without much difficulty. It was a beautiful chalet in the midst of a garden and commanding a magnificent view of Lake Geneva.

He opened the gate and approached the house, noting that a dinner party was in progress, the dining room was alight, and that through the windows, which were open, the sounds of gay voices and laughter could be distinctly heard.

Somewhat mystified, he rang at the door, which was promptly thrown open by a liveried footman. On inquiring for the sick person, he was told that there was nobody ill in the house and that probably he had been given a wrong address.

“But is this not Chalet Violet and are we not in Rue Valois?” he asked, showing the carefully written address.

“The address is quite correct, Sir, but there must be a misunderstanding of some kind. There is no one ill in the house, and I cannot understand how a message should have been sent without my knowledge. It is my duty to see that such communications are delivered, and I receive corresponding instructions as to whom I am to receive.”

“Might I speak with your Mistress?” suggested Fr. Mermillod.

“I regret, Reverend Sir, that my Mistress is at the moment entertaining a company from the Opera at dinner, but if you insist, I will take her your message.”

“I should be obliged if you did so since the case seems mysterious and I cannot easily come such a long distance again.”

On hearing about the strange incident, the

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