instance, I tell him not to go often to the
house of a capricious woman of uncertain temper, he probably resolves at
once never to lunch in an agreeable house again. Meanwhile, above this
muddle, this tragicomedy, he sees the distant hills glowing with light;
so, without waiting for orders, he leaves the people crying to him for
help and turns tail and runs away! And what only the skill of a personal
devil could achieve, he thinks in his heart that he is choosing a harder
fight, a more self-denying life."

"But I could help those people more by my prayers."

"Granted, if it were God's will that you should lead the life of
contemplation, but I don't believe it is. I don't see what right you've
got to believe it is. As to not living altogether for God here, that's
His affair. Mind you, I don't undervalue the difficulties, and it's
uncommon hard to human nature. Don't think too much of other people's
opinions; I know you feel a bit out of it with the priests about you.
They are rough to young men like you--it's jealousy, if they only knew
it. Jealousy is the fault of the best men, because they never suspect
themselves of it. If they saw it, they would fight it. Face facts. You
have some gifts; you will be much humbler if you thank God for them
instead of trying to think you haven't got them. And be quite
particularly nice to the growler sort of priest; he's had a hard time
and, lived a hard life; much harder than the life of a monk. Mind you
respect his scars."

He talked on, partly to give Mark time; he saw he had given him a shock.

"Mind," he said, "there is sometimes an acute personal temptation, but
you've not got that now. You've got a sort of perception of what it
might be. It won't be unbearable." He crossed his legs and put the long,
white fingers into each other. "But I'm old now, and it's my experience
that the mischief for all priests is to let society be their fun. It
ought to be a duty, and a very tiresome duty too. Take your amusements
in any other way, and go out to lunch in the same state of mind as you
visit a hospital. Do you think the best women, whether Protestant or
Catholic, think society their fun? They may like it or not, but it is a
serious duty to them."

Mark sprang up suddenly. "I can't stand this!" he said. "You go on
talking, and I want to be a Carthusian, and I will be one." He laughed;
his voice was troubled and the clear joy of his face was clouded.

Canon Nicholls felt in his pocket