take on him the burden of priesthood in the Catholic Church.

CHAPTER II

SACERDOS IN AETERNUM

It was a day of wonderful autumn peace when Chris first sang mass in the
presence of the Community.

The previous day he had received priesthood from the hands of the little
old French bishop in the priory church; one by one strange mystical
ceremonies had been performed; the stole had been shifted and crossed on
the breast, the token of Christ's yoke; the chasuble had been placed
over his head, looped behind; then the rolling cry to the Spirit of God
who alone seals to salvation and office had pealed round the high roof
and down the long nave that stretched away westwards in sunlit gloom;
while across the outstretched hands of the monk had been streaked the
sacred oil, giving him the power to bless the things of God. The hands
were bound up, as if to heal the indelible wound of love that had been
inflicted on them; and, before they were unbound, into the hampered
fingers were slid the sacred vessels of the altar, occupied now by the
elements of bread and wine; while the awful power to offer sacrifice for
the quick and the dead was committed to him in one tremendous phrase.

Then the mass went on; and the new priest, kneeling with Dom Anthony at
a little bench set at the foot of the altar steps, repeated aloud with
the bishop the words of the liturgy from the great painted missal lying
before him.

How strange it had been too when all was over! He stood by a pillar in
the nave, beneath St. Pancras's image, while all came to receive his
blessing. First, the Prior, pale and sullen, as always now; then the
Community, some smiling and looking into his eyes before they knelt,
some perfunctory, some solemn and sedate with downcast faces; each
kissed the fragrant hands, and stood aside, while the laity came up; and
first among them his father and Mary.

His place too in the refectory had a flower or two laid beside it; and
the day had gone by in a bewildering dream. He had walked with his
father and sister a little, and had found himself smiling and silent in
their company.

In the evening he had once more gone through the ceremonies of mass, Dom
Anthony stood by, and watched and reminded and criticised. And now the
morning was come, and he stood at the altar.

* * * * *

The little wind had dropped last night, and the hills round Lewes stood
in mellow sunlight; the atmosphere was f