elling priests, who, ignorant of both Italian and Latin, and only
speaking the patois of their village, will go through cities and towns
selling the remission of sins for a base price, often for a bottle of
wine. Probably we shall not be inconvenienced by those absolutions as
they will want contrition to make them valid, but it may be that their
baptisms will cause us some embarrassment. The priests will become so
ignorant that they will baptize children in nomine patria et filia et
spirita sancta, as Louis de Potter will take a pleasure in relating in
the third volume of his 'Philosophical, Political, and Critical History
of Christianity.' It will be an arduous question to decide on the
validity of such baptisms; for even if in my sacred writings I tolerate
a Greek less elegant than Plato's and a scarcely Ciceronian Latin, I
cannot possibly admit a piece of pure patois as a liturgical formula.
And one shudders when one thinks that millions of new-born babes will be
baptized by this method. But let us return to our penguins."

"Your divine words, Lord, have already led us back to them," said
St. Gal. "In the signs of religion and the laws of salvation form
necessarily prevails over essence, and the validity of a sacrament
solely depends upon its form. The whole question is whether the penguins
have been baptized with the proper forms. Now there is no doubt about
the answer."

The fathers and the doctors agreed, and their perplexity became only the
more cruel.

"The Christian state," said St. Cornelius, "is not without serious
inconveniences for a penguin. In it the birds are obliged to work out
their own salvation. How can they succeed? The habits of birds are,
in many points, contrary to the commandments of the Church, and the
penguins have no reason for changing theirs. I mean that they are not
intelligent enough to give up their present habits and assume better."

"They cannot," said the Lord; "my decrees prevent them."

"Nevertheless," resumed St. Cornelius, "in virtue of their baptism their
actions no longer remain indifferent. Henceforth they will be good or
bad, susceptible of merit or of demerit."

"That is precisely the question we have to deal with," said the Lord.

"I see only one solution," said St. Augustine. "The penguins will go to
hell."

"But they have no soul," observed St. Irenaeus.

"It is a pity," sighed Tertullian.

"It is indeed," resumed St. Gal. "And I admit that my disciple, the holy