rs;
how foolish it was then to have painted this crypt in squalid imitation
of the catacombs, to have defaced the glorious darkness of these stones
with colours which were indeed fast vanishing, leaving only traces as of
palette scrapings in the consecrated soot on the roof!

Durtal was expatiating on these reflections as he went out of the
garden, when he met the Abbe Gevresin walking along and reading his
breviary. He asked whether Durtal had taken the Sacrament. And
perceiving that his penitent always came back to his shame of the inert
and torpid grief that came over him in contemplation of the Holy
Sacrament, the old priest said to him,--

"That is no concern of yours; all you have to do is to pray to the best
of your power. The rest is my concern--if the far from triumphant state
of your soul only makes you a little humble, that is all I ask of you."

"Humble! I am like a water cooler; my vanity sweats out at every pore as
the water oozes from the clay."

"It is some consolation to me that you perceive it," said the Abbe,
smiling. "It would be far worse if you did not know yourself, if you
were so proud as to believe that you had no pride."

"But how then am I to set to work? You advise me to pray; but teach me
at least how not to dissipate myself in every direction, for as soon as
I try to collect myself I go to pieces; I live in a perpetual state of
dissolution. It is like a thing arranged on purpose; as soon as I try to
shut the cage all my thoughts fly off--they deafen me with their
chirping."

The Abbe was thinking.

"I know," said he; "nothing is more difficult than to free the spirit
from the images that take possession of it. Still, and in spite of all,
you may achieve concentration of mind if you observe these three rules:

"In the first place you must humble yourself, by owning the frailty of
your mind, unable to preserve itself from wandering in the presence of
God; next you must not be impatient or restless, for that would only
stir up the dregs and bring other objects of frivolity to the surface;
finally, it is well not to investigate the nature of the distractions
that trouble your prayers till they are over. This only prolongs the
disturbance, and in a way recognizes its existence. You thus run the
risk, in virtue of the law of association of ideas, of inviting new
diversions, and there would be no way of escape.

"After prayer you may examine yourself with benefit; follow my advice,
and