ine of the apse-choir with the
dim, window-pierced vault above where Christ reigned in majesty. He let
his eyes wander round for a few moments before beginning his deliberate
prayer, drinking in the glory of the place, listening to the thunderous
chorus, the peal of the organ, and the thin mellow voice of the priest.
There on the left shone the refracted glow of the lamps that burned
before the Lord in the Sacrament, on the right a dozen candles winked
here and there at the foot of the gaunt images, high overhead hung the
gigantic cross with that lean, emaciated Poor Man Who called all who
looked on Him to the embraces of a God.

Then he hid his face in his hands, drew a couple of long breaths, and
set to work.

He began, as his custom was in mental prayer, by a deliberate act of
self-exclusion from the world of sense. Under the image of sinking
beneath a surface he forced himself downwards and inwards, till the peal
of the organ, the shuffle of footsteps, the rigidity of the chair-back
beneath his wrists--all seemed apart and external, and he was left a
single person with a beating heart, an intellect that suggested image
after image, and emotions that were too languid to stir themselves. Then
he made his second descent, renounced all that he possessed and was, and
became conscious that even the body was left behind, and that his mind
and heart, awed by the Presence in which they found themselves, clung
close and obedient to the will which was their lord and protector. He
drew another long breath, or two, as he felt that Presence surge about
him; he repeated a few mechanical words, and sank to that peace which
follows the relinquishment of thought.

There he rested for a while. Far above him sounded the ecstatic music,
the cry of trumpets and the shrilling of the flutes; but they were as
insignificant street-noises to one who was falling asleep. He was within
the veil of things now, beyond the barriers of sense and reflection, in
that secret place to which he had learned the road by endless effort, in
that strange region where realities are evident, where perceptions go to
and fro with the swiftness of light, where the swaying will catches now
this, now that act, moulds it and speeds it; where all things meet,
where truth is known and handled and tasted, where God Immanent is one
with God Transcendent, where the meaning of the external world is
evident through its inner side, and the Church and its mysteries are
see