t Him!--If I were a monk and alone, possibly; but living in
the world!--And then who but the Saints would prefer death to the
smallest sin? Why then humbug Him with these feints and grimaces?

"No," said Durtal, "apart from the personal outpourings, the secret
intimacy in which we are bold to tell Him everything that comes into our
head, the prayers of the liturgy alone can be uttered with impunity by
any man, for it is the peculiarity of these inspirations that they adapt
themselves in all ages to every state of the mind and every phase of
life. And with the exception of the time-honoured prayers of certain
Saints, which are as a rule either supplications for pity or for help,
appeals to God's mercy or laments, all other prayers sent forth from the
cold insipid sacristies of the seventeenth century, or, worse still,
composed in our own day by the piety-mongers who insert in our books of
prayer the pious cant of the Rue Bonaparte--all these inflated and
pretentious petitions should be avoided by sinners who, in default of
every other virtue, at least wish to be sincere.

"Only that wonderful child could thus address the Lord without
hypocrisy," he went on, looking at the little acolyte, and understanding
truly for the first time what innocent childhood meant--the little
sinless soul, purely white.

"The Church, which tries to find beings absolutely ingenuous and
immaculate to wait upon the altar, had succeeded at Chartres in moulding
souls and transforming ordinary boys on their admission to the sanctuary
into exquisite angels. There must certainly be, above and besides their
special training, some blessing and goodwill from Our Lady, to mould
these little rogues to the service, to make them so unlike others, and
endow them in the middle of the nineteenth century with the fire of
chastity and primitive fervour of the middle age."

The service proceeded slowly, soaking into the abject silence of the
worshippers, and the child, more reverent and attentive than ever, rang
the bell; it was like a shower of sparks tinkling under the smoky vault,
and the silence seemed deeper than ever behind the kneeling boy,
upholding with one hand the chasuble of the celebrant, who bowed over
the altar. The Host was elevated amid the shower of silver sound; and
then, above the prostrate heads, in the clear sparkle of bells, the
golden tulip of a chalice flashed out till, to a final hurried peal, the
gilded flower was lowered, and the pr