noting the opinion of
Adamantius, who ascribes levity and a mocking spirit to the monkey; that
of Peter of Capua and of the Anonymous writer of Clairvaux, that the
lizard, which crawls and hides in cracks in the walls, is, as well as
the serpent, an emblem of evil; and he recorded the special ascription
of ingratitude by Christ Himself to the viper, for He gives the name to
the Jewish race. Durtal then hastily dressed, fearing to be late, as he
was dining with the Abbe Gevresin and the Abbe Plomb. Pursued by Madame
Mesurat, who insisted on dealing him one more blow with the
clothes-brush, he rushed downstairs, and was soon at his friend's door.

Madame Bavoil, who opened it, appeared in a cap all askew and hair
loose, up-turned sleeves and scorched arms, with cheeks crimson from the
kitchen fire. She confessed to the concoction of a dish of beef _a la
mode_ softened by calf's foot jelly and strengthened by a dash of
brandy, and fled, alarmed by the impatient call of a saucepan, of which
the contents were boiling over on the hot plates of the stove, with a
noise like cats swearing.

Durtal found the old Abbe tormented by rheumatism, but as ever, patient
and cheerful. They talked a little while; then, seeing that Durtal was
looking at some little lumps of gum lying on his writing table, the Abbe
said,--

"That is incense from the Carmel of Chartres."

"Indeed!"

"Yes, the Carmelites are accustomed to burn none but genuine true
incense. So I begged them to trust me with a specimen that I might
procure the same quality for our cathedral."

"It is everywhere adulterated, I suppose?"

"Yes. This substance is found in commerce under three forms: male
incense, which is the best if unadulterated; female incense, which is
mixed with reddish fragments and dry grains called _marrons_; finally
incense in powder, which is for the most part a mixture of inferior
resin and benzoin."

"And what have you there?"

"This is male incense; do you see those oblong tears, those almost
transparent drops of faded amber? how different from that which they use
at Notre Dame; it is earthy, broken, full of scraps, and it is safe to
wager that those knobs are crystals of carbonate of lime and not beads
of pure resin."

"Why," said Durtal, "this substance suggests to me the idea of a
symbolism of odours; has it ever been worked out?"

"I doubt it; but in any case it would be very simple. The aromatic
substances used in the Liturgy are