For Greater Things | Page 6

which he could not
do in Vienna.
He felt he had a vocation to be a Jesuit. He knew his father would not
consent. He took six months to think it over, to pray for light, to make
sure it was no mere whim or fancy of his own, but the very voice of
God. And when he felt sure, he left a letter for his brother Paul and his
tutor, Bilinski, with whom he had been studying in Vienna; he gave his
money to a couple of beggars; he said, "If God wants me to do this,
He'll furnish the means"; he put on his best attire, tied up a rough suit in
a cloth, took a stout staff in his hand, and with God's blessing upon him
and His Eucharistic Presence in his heart, stepped out cheerfully on a
journey that would stagger most men.
That is the stuff of which heroes are made. If Stanislaus had done this
for the glory of the world, we should have his praises in our histories,
we should have stories woven about him, the whole world would cry
"Bravo!" But he did it for God, and the world cannot understand him at
all: the world is silent.
An hour or so of that steady, tireless stride carried him well away from
Vienna. He slipped off his velvet and silk, put on his coarse tunic - a
shirt-like garment that came below his knees - girded himself with a bit
of rope, tied his stout shoes on his feet, and took the road again. There
were folk aplenty journeying from the countryside to Vienna in the
early morning. Stanislaus picked out one of the poorest-looking
peasants and handed him the gala dress he had just taken off.
"I can't carry these with me, friend," he said. "Won't you please take
them? I have no use for them, and perhaps you can sell them in the
city."
And he was gone before the peasant, gaping in wonder at the rich
garments and dagger in his hands, could much more than catch a

glimpse of that bright face and those laughing eyes.
He tramped all day, and made his thirty miles. When he was hungry, he
asked some one he met for food. It is not likely that any one would
refuse the smiling, handsome boy, from whose face innocence simply
shone. But if any one had refused him, it would not have annoyed
Stanislaus. His good humor came from heaven, as well as from his own
cheery soul - and you cannot rebuff that kind of good humor.
Night came down at last, and he was tired out. He came to an inn and
asked for shelter.
"I have no money," he told the landlord, smiling, "and I have no claim
upon you. Will you take me in?"
The landlord looked at him shrewdly a little, then said with respect:
"But what is your grace doing in such a garb?"
Stanislaus thought for a moment that he was recognized; but he put on
a bold front, and laughed as he said:
"I am not 'your grace. I am what you see me, and I have a long journey
to make."
In those days it was not unusual for even nobles to go, roughly clad,
upon pilgrimages of devotion. That Stanislaus was a noble, the landlord
was quite certain. That he might be engaged on some such pious
business, was possible. But who ever heard of a mere boy going upon
pilgrimage?
The whole affair puzzled the landlord more than a little. However, the
face of the boy reassured him. At least there could be no evil behind
that frank, brave countenance. So he shook his head, saying:
"I do not understand. But come in. You are welcome."
He gave Stanislaus his supper and a bed to sleep in.

"You shall not be the poorer for this," said Stanislaus, as he thanked
him. "You know God makes it up to us for even a cup of cold water
given in His name."
And as the boy spoke, the landlord saw his face glow when he spoke of
God and he was very glad at heart that he had given shelter and food, to
this strange boy.
Stanislaus slept soundly. But he was up with the sun, washed and
dressed quickly, and went to thank his host again before setting out.
"But you will have something to eat before you go?" cried the man, as
Stanislaus stood before him, staff in hand, ready for the road.
"It is good of you to offer it," the boy answered. "But perhaps I shall
find a church before long, and I must go fasting to Holy Communion."
Then the landlord marvelled again, for at that period even good people
did