The Master-Christian

ng at her door under the waving tendrils of the "creeping jenny" and shading her eyes fr

ing will knock it out! Now I shall have to tell Monseigneur that they are here,-what an impertinen

demanding to know where the Cardinal was. Madame Patoux set her arms aki

idence already to a poor lad lost in the streets, and for that matter lost in the worl

I went there, nobody was in the church at all,-and we left one candle burning all alone in the da

t,-the good Cardinal heard someone crying and went to see who it was. And he found a poor boy outside the Cathedral weeping as if his heart were breaki

eaning on his crutch, l

e like me?

ssionately-"He is straight and st

Babette made

m!" she said-"And I w

ow dare you

paused,-somewhat afraid at her own boldness,-and startled too at the sight of Manuel, who was seated near the window opposite the Cardinal, and who turned his deep blue eyes upon her with a look of enqui

. Monseigneur . .

-"Do not be afraid,-I am at your service. You have br

er tears, and drooping her head, answ

also come. You see, my child," went on the good prelate addressing Babette, the while he laid a gently caressing hand on her hair-"Another little friend has come to me who is also very s

. Manuel's face frightened yet fascinated her; he looked, she thought, like the beautiful angel of the famous stained glass "Annunciation" window in the crumbling old church of St. Maclou. She dared not speak to him,-she could only steal furtive glances at him from under the curling length of her dark tear-wet lashes,-and when the Cardinal took her by the hand

ur,-a sad sight truly!-and afflicted sorely by the will of God,-though one could hardly say that God was anywhere about when he fell, poor baby, from his mother's cart and twisted his body awry,-one would rather think the devil was in the business, asking your pardon, Monseigneur; for surely the turning of a human crea

nal Bonpre turned to her

applied to one who is so full of errors and sins as myself. Try to look upon me just as I am,-merely an old man, nearing the grave, with nothing of merit in me beyond the desire to serve

ing with a soft and eager light of interest, and a little smile lifting the delicate upper curve of his lips as he looked on. Fabien meanwhile, perched on the Cardinal's knee, and held close in the Cardinal's arms, was not at all frightened,-he simply sat, con

ch as you read about in story-books,-and that I could not work miracles, because I am not worthy to be so filled with the Divine Spirit as to heal with a touch like the better servants of our Blessed Lord. Nevertheless I firmly believe that if God saw that it was good for you to be strong and well, He would fin

int glimmer of hope he had encouraged as to the possibility of his being miraculously cured b

him on his knee in a position of even greater comfort than before, "You shall simply shut your eyes, and clasp your little hands together as I put them he

tisfaction to herself, was contented to bend her head as low as she could get it. Manuel remained standing. Leaning against the Cardinal's chair, his eyes fixed on the crippled Fabien, he had the aspect of a young Angel of compassion, whos

spiring souls. Look compassionately upon him, oh gentle King and Master of all such children!-and even as Thou wert a child Thyself, be pleased to heal him of his sad infirmity. For, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make this bent body straight and these withered muscles strong,-from death itself Thou canst ordain life, and nothing is impossible to Thee! But above all things, gracious Saviour, we do pray Thee so to lift and strengthen this child's soul, that if it is d

heir clothes, and stared curiously at Fabien. Was a miracle going to happen? Fabien, however-still resting against the Cardinal's breast, with his meagre little hands clasped tight on the Cardinal's crucifix, kept his eyes solemnly shut and gave no sign, till the Cardinal himself gently m

see there are so many miserable people in the world,-many cripples, too,-I am not the only one. Our Lord must have enough to do if H

pressed too by the sense of his own entire powerlessness to remove the cause of the trouble, bent down and kissed him-"Beli

nal's chair. With a light, eager step forward, he went up to the litt

mong all the millions and millions of worlds, there is never a pure and unselfish prayer that the grea

e young face that shone upon him with su

miles and miles through the fields and the green shady forests where the birds sing,-and where there is so much to see and think about,-when one is lame one cannot

es and brimmed over, trickling slowly down his pale che

has prayed for you as only good men CAN pray,-without one selfish thought, in faith and deep humili

and even Cardinal Bonpre felt a sense of comfort as he

y far away. Yes,-I will be as brave as I can. You are very good to me,-I know you understand just how I feel, and I thank you v

re drawn togethe

?" This, with a somewhat sarcastic air of inquiry directed at the Car

a miracle? I told you from the first that I was no

e heat of a sudden angry emotion-"But only those that are performed on h

Henri really was, she thought!-Madame Patoux shut up her eyes in horror, crossed herself devoutly as against some evil spirit, and was about to speak, wh

e Vatican with millions and millions of money's worth, while thousands of people around him in Italy alone, are starving and miserable. Christ would not allow such a thing. Christ said 'Sell half that thou hast and give to the poor'-now the

fat arm and hand with a solemn gesture of rep

unheedingly, still

well-arranged?-And do you think there is any sense in believing in a God who does such a lot of cruel things? And when He won't help us ever so little? How can people be good if they ke

t him quietly,

ht, word and deed,-and who have no spirit of love in them,-these invite sorrow and pain, and rush upon misfortune. Then they blame God for it! Ah, it is easy to blame God!-so much easier than to blame one's self! And if

ddenly abashed. Cardinal Bonpre listened to the words of this strange foundling with a singular emotion,-an emotion to

nate, there is certain to be some cause for it. Now everybody says that if poor Martine had not put Fabien in the cart to save herself the trouble of holding

m her stricken condition of horrif

ven, why then there is no Heaven at all, and it is no good bothering ourselves about it. And what things have been said by my son!-MY son!-against t

demanded Henri, his ey

walking the world according to thine own will and direction. Thou must take good and evil as they come, and strive t

ing further, but turned to assist Babette in guiding the little Fabien's hesitating st

ill not forget those words-the lad has a hasty tem

ad,-and our modern system of education pushes the brain to a precocity exceeding bodily years,-his impatience and anger only come from puzzling over what he finds it difficult to understand. It is all a puzzle to him-all a puzzle!-as it is to most of

ion of the old-time city splendid, is the approaching downfall of the modern capital. To the inhabitants of Rouen, the very name of Paris carries with it a kind of awe,-it excites various emotions of wonder, admiration, longing, curiosity and even fear,-for Paris is a witches' cauldron in which Republicanism, Imperialism, Royalism, Communism and Socialism, are all thrown by the Fates to seethe together in a hellish broth of conflicting elements-and the smoke of it ascends in reeking blasphemy to Heaven. Not from its church-altars does the cry of "How long, O Lord, how long!" ascend nowadays,-for its priests are more skilled in the use of the witty bon-mot or the polished sneer than in the power of the prophet's appeal,-it is from the Courts of Science that the warning note of terror sounds,-the cold vast courts where reasoning thinkers wander, and learn, and deeply meditate, knowing that all their researches but go to prove the fact that apart from all creed and all forms of creed, Crime carries Punishment as surely as the seed is born with the flower,-thinkers who are fully aware that not all the forces of all mankind, working with herculean insistence to support a Lie, can drive back the storm-cloud of the wrath of that "Unknown Quantity" called God, whose thunders do most terribly declare the truth "with power and great glory." "How long O Lord, how long!" Not long, we think, O friends!-not long now shall we wait for the Divine Pronouncement of the End. Hints of it are in the air,-signs and portents of it are about us in our almost terrific discoveries of the invisible forces of Light and Sound,-we

glittering needles. A certain vague impression of solemnity had been left on her mind by the events of the morning,-she could not quite reason out the why

iscreants had formed in their minds respecting the Cardinal, and also what they thought of the boy who had been taken so suddenly under his protection. She was almost tempted to call Henri and ask him a few questions on the subject,-but she had learnt to value peace and quietness when she could secure those rare blessings at the hands of her children, and when they were employed with a book and visibly out of mischief she thought it wisest to leave them alone. And so she left them in the present instance, pushing her window open as she sat and knitted, for the air was warm and balmy, and the long rays of sunshine streaming across

hat is it!" they all

k, but could only gesticulate and throw up her hands in a kind of ecstasy, but wh

-speak-wh

de a viole

flinging herself to and fro

Madame in horror.

we thought He was an invention of the priests-but no-He is a real God after all!-Oh mes enfants!" and she tried

n glanced a

hey murmured

has happened!-See!

tle figure came running lightly towards them,-the light strong figure of a boy with fair curls flyin

Mother!"

d hobbled painfully upon crutches all his life, and had left her house in his usual condition an hour or so ago?-Thi

almost screamed Henr

threw his arms round his mother's neck and faced them,-"It is I-

y a deep-toned bell rang from the topmost tower of Notre Dame-and in the flame-red of the falling sun the doves that make their home

knees and folding her hands, "The Angelus!-

nd pausing as they saw the cluster of kneeling figures in the porch instinctively and without question knelt also,-then as the news spread, group after group came running and gathering together, and dropping on their knees amazed and awe-struck, till the broad Square showed but one black mass of a worshipping congregation under the roseate sky, their voices joining in