The Master-Christian

churches and great public buildings of Paris. The boy had a quiet, straightforward way of expressing his wishes and opinions, and a certain marked ind

eat church where there were numerous jewelled relics and pricel

r, with two little starving children;-would it not be wel

azed, and the attendant

through the bu

be sold," he said curtly. "The beggar

to be a hypocrite, retain anything of value for Himself, if by giving it to her, He co

are ignorant," said

e blue eyes and fixed

rld's wealth or the world's possessions. When they are offered to Him did he not say, 'Get thee behin

ose pearls," said the priest, with s

nuel quietly, with a little gesture of his hand, "T

over with angry conte

din

uble with that boy," he said

nal smile

ot perhaps in accordance with convention. I confess that I share his opinions somewhat. Certainly I esteem myself happy

y the very presence of Manuel. The boy, however, paid no heed to his angry glances, and noted everything in his own quiet meditative way,-a way which was a singularly winning one, g

ted at all in the following of the difficult thread!-but no,-the sunshine must have lessened and the days grown darker and darker, till death came and gently shut up the lids of the tired orbs of earthy vision, and opened those of the soul to Light indeed! This work speaks

the tender pity in Manual's voice, "Nothing is accomplished wi

asked His children in this world to love one another for His sake-not to grind each other dow

nail from the "true cross." The Cardinal was silent too. He had no remark to offer on these obvious "imaginations" of the priesthood. Then they went up together to the platform on the summit of the Cathedral, and looked at the great bell known as the "Bourdon de Notre Dame";-and here they fo

tower,-for sometimes a whole day passes and no one wishes to ascend. And there is a moral in that, Monseigneur, if one has eyes to see it;-days pass, years, in the world,-and no one wishes to ascend!-to Heaven, I mean!-to go down to Hell is delightful, and everyone is ready for it! It is at night that the platform here is most beautiful,-oh yes, at night it is very fine, Monseigneur!-but it is only madmen and dreamers who call me up in the night hours, yet when they do I never refuse to go with them, for look you, I am a light sleeper and have no wife to bid me keep my bed. Yes,-if the authorities knew that I

cried the Cardinal,

anuel standing lightly near the brink of the platform, and stretching out his arms towar

s, turning his young, wistful face towards the Cardina

raised to the worship of a God whom no one obeys, or even thinks of obeying! All show, my good Lapui! All to feed priests like me, and keep them going-but God has nothing to do with it-nothing at all, I swear to you!'-'You may be right, mon reverend,' I said, (for I saw he was not in a mood to be argued with)-"Yet truly the Cathedral has not always been a place of holiness. In seventeen ninety-three there was not much of our Lord or the blessed Saints in it.' 'No, you are right, Lapui!' he cried, 'Down came the statue of the Virgin, and up went the statue of Liberty! There was the crimson flare of the Torch of Truth!-and the effigies of the ape Voltaire and the sensualist Rousseau, took the places of St. Peter and St. Paul! Ha!-And they worshipped the goddess of Reason-Reason, impersonated by Maillard the ballet-dancer! True to the life, my Lapui!-that kind of worship has lasted in Paris until now!-it goes on still-Reason,-man's idea of Reason,-impersonated by a ballet dancer! Yes,-the shops are full of that goddess and her portraits, Jean Lapui! And the jewellers can hardly turn out sufficient baubles to adorn her shrine!' He laughed again, and I took hold of him by the arm. 'See here, petit pere,' I said, 'I fancy all is not well with you.' 'You are right,' he answered, 'all is very ill!' 'Then will you not go home and to bed?' I asked him. 'Presently-presently;' he said, 'if I may tell you something first!' 'Do so by all means, reverend pere,' said I, and I sat down near him. 'It is just this, Lapui,' and he drew out a crucifix from his breast and looked at it very earnestly, 'I am a priest, as you see; and this symbol represents my faith. My mother told me that to be a priest and to serve God was the highest happiness that could befall a man. I believed it,-and when I look at the stars up there crowding around us in such vast circles,-when I look at all this moonlight and the majesty of creation around me, I be

f from this parapet?" said Bon

ve spoken, but then I should have got into trouble. And I avoid trouble whenever I can. A very strange thing it is that no one has ever been suspected of leaping from Notre Dame into the next world since Victor Hugo's great story was written. 'It is against the rules,' say the authorities, 'to mount the towers at night.' True, but rules are not always ke

y to find Heaven," sai

losing God, it may chance that God sees the conditions of things, and has mercy. Events happen in this world of such a kind as to make anyone who i

have trusted God to the end, whether those whom he preached to, believed his message

provingly. "Of course that is said as only a wise man could say it, for after all, Chri

at, and try to save one another rather

pui, shading his eyes from the glare of the daylight with one wrin

d remember Him and lived exactly as He wished, we should have a new Heaven and a new Earth; and I will tell you something else," and the old fellow looked sly and mischievous, "No offence meant-no offence!-but ther

your night visitors, my friend! Do not for the future leav

smiled dep

Cardinal by your dress, while you might truly be a saint from your manner;-so I should have held my tongue about the flight into the air of the little priest. But you will say nothing, for you are discreet; and

Bonpre, with an intense vibration of p

ould be an end of everything! I am a philosopher in my way, Monseigneur,-and I assure you that a real serious truth told in Paris without any gloss upon

the corner of the street where his carriage awaited him,-his head bent and his eyes downcast; Manuel stepped lightly along beside him, glancing at

by self-destruction, and you are pained also lest another man should lose God altogether by the deliberate telling of lies. All such mistakes an

nal sighe

low Him, and that there should be less suffering for the future. And surely we have not o

think He would be gri

s?" queried

hing in any of the creeds founded on His name! If He came ag

still in the same soft, even voice

n it would be perhaps in the disguise of one who is poor and friendless 'despised and rejected of men,' as when He fi

admitted them told them that Donna Sovrani had a visitor in her studio,-so th

ples and churches!-these gorgeous tombs and reliquaries; they represent penances and thank-offerings no doubt, but to me they seem useless. A church should not be a shrine for worldly stuff, unless indeed such things are used again for the relief of poverty and suffering; b

then he said I was a heretic. When one loves Go

e boy's inspired face,-the face of a d

nd Him in every art and science,-I worship Him in a temple not made with hands,-His own majestic Universe! Above all churches,-above all formulated creeds and systems I lov

d up quickly, wondering whether it was Manuel who had so touched him,-the boy was certainly near him,-but was already seated with the Testament open ready to read as requested. The Cardinal raised himself in his chair,-a sense of lig

Lord which will express what

phets and garnish the sepulchres of the righteous." Here he paused and said, while the Cardinal gazed at him wonderingly, "Is not that true of Paris

are not always good men. One named Voltaire, who scoffed at God, an

incarnation of the future spirit of Paris. He lived as a warning of what was to come,-a warning of the wolves that were ready to descen

w pages and co

esied of you, hypocrite

th their lips but thei

hey worship me, TEAC

MENTS O

words and looked up at th

ross and follow me. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it, b

IM DENY HIMSELF! That is the secret of it. Self-denial! And this age is one of self-indulgence. We are on the wrong

or and a servant entered the room bringing him a lette

ay from your just wrath. He had been gathering roses in the garden, and gave me one with a grace in the giving which made the flower valuable. It still lives and blooms in a glass on my writing-table at which I have been jotting down the notes of what I mean to say. WHAT I MEAN TO SAY! There is more in those words than there seems, if you could but guess all! I shall trust to the day itself for the necessary eloquence. The congregation that assembles at the Lorette is a curious and a mixed one. 'Artistes' of the s

GNIA

and put it aside with a curious fe

nce that he seems to be possessed by a very demon of mockery, and that it is this spirit which makes his attraction fo

Vergniaud a rose the

when I met him,-and sometimes a flower

ses far away, and sighed with a se

written in all the brightest and loveliest colours! I never gat

nd God saw her do this, as He sees everything. At last, quite suddenly she died, and when she found herself in Heaven, there were such crowds and crowds of angels about her that she was bewildered, and could not find her way. All at once she saw a pathway edged with roses before her, and one of the angels said, 'These are all th

ing, "And, as not even a thought is wast

l must be the true a

-a fair face may h

oy, "The evil soul must leave its impress on

show of goodness and purity perfectly, while inwardly 'they are as ravening wolves,' and they never seem to drop the mask. Othe

up, what then?" asked

row up?

l, "or pass through what is c

e Cardinal gently, "I

Manuel, "since deat

ked at him

good and great, you may be w

swept like a shadow acros

ions upon millions of worlds,-they are as numerous as flowers in a garden-but because it is a sorrowful world,-a mistaken wor

he burden of solitude and the sense of miscomprehension. And closing the Testament he hel

al tenderly, "And I will take

ooked up

a Master who will hereafter say to you, remembering your goodness,-'Verily, in

ng level light of the sinking sun through the window-pane that made such a glor