ilica of the Sacred
Heart, and had timidly asked him to take some alms to that old man
Laveuve, who soon afterwards had died of want, like a dog by the wayside.
How sad a morning it had been; what battle and torture had Pierre not
felt within him, and what a resurrection had come afterwards! He had that
day said one of his last masses, and he recalled with a shudder his
abominable anguish, his despairing doubts at the thought of nothingness.
Two experiments which he had previously made had failed most miserably.
First had come one at Lourdes, where the glorification of the absurd had
simply filled him with pity for any such attempt to revert to the
primitive faith of young nations, who bend beneath the terror born of
ignorance; and, secondly, there had been an experiment at Rome, which he
had found incapable of any renewal, and which he had seen staggering to
its death amidst its ruins, a mere great shadow, which would soon be of
no account, fast sinking, as it was, to the dust of dead religions. And,
in his own mind, Charity itself had become bankrupt; he no longer
believed that alms could cure the sufferings of mankind, he awaited
naught but a frightful catastrophe, fire and massacre, which would sweep
away the guilty, condemned world. His cassock, too, stifled him, a lie
alone kept it on his shoulders, the idea, unbelieving priest though he
was, that he could honestly and chastely watch over the belief of others.
The problem of a new religion, a new hope, such as was needful to ensure
the peace of the coming democracies tortured him, but between the
certainties of science and the need of the Divine, which seemed to
consume humanity, he could find no solution. If Christianity crumbled
with the principle of Charity, there could remain nothing else but
Justice, that cry which came from every breast, that battle of Justice
against Charity in which his heart must contend in that great city of
Paris. It was there that began his third and decisive experiment, the
experiment which was to make truth as plain to him as the sun itself, and
give him back health and strength and delight in life.

At this point of his reverie Pierre was roused by Thomas, who asked him
to fetch a tool. As he did so he heard Bache remarking: "The ministry
resigned this morning. Vignon has had enough of it, he wants to reserve
his remaining strength."

"Well, he has lasted more than a twelvemonth," replied Morin. "That's
already an achievement."