that of
turning it into ridicule and contempt. I left him, irritated and annoyed
at his behaviour, and tried to forget it in the crowds of people who
were thronging the gay streets on one of the gayest mornings of the
year. I hardly know why I directed my steps towards the _Place St
Sulpice_, or why, having reached it, I lingered, gazing at the church
which has its site there. I had a better reason for quitting it with
precipitation; for whilst I stood musing, I became suddenly aware of the
presence of my friend the baron. He did not see me, and I was not
anxious to begin _de novo_ the disagreeable discussion of the morning.
As I turned away from the church, however, I looked instinctively back,
and was much surprised to behold the baron glancing very suspiciously
about him, and appearing most anxious to avoid public observation. I was
mentally debating whether such was really the fact, or whether the idea
was suggested by my own clandestine movement, when to my unaffected
astonishment the baron put an end to all doubt by making one rapid march
towards the church, and then rushing in--looking neither to the right
nor left--behind nor before him. This was truly too extraordinary a
circumstance to witness without further enquiry. I immediately retraced
my steps, and followed the atheist into the house, where surely _he_
could have no lawful business to transact. If my surprise had been great
without the sacred edifice, what was it within, and at that particular
portion of it known by the designation of _the Chapel of the Virgin
Mary_, at which I beheld, questioning my own senses, my unaccountable
friend, this exceedingly erratic baron--upon his knees--in solemn
prayer! Yes, kneeling in low humility, and praying audibly, with a
devotion and an awful earnestness that could not be surpassed. He
remained upon his knees, and he persevered in his prayers until the
conclusion of the service, and then he bestowed his alms--performing all
things with an expression of countenance and gravity of demeanour, such
as I knew him to wear only at the table upon which he had achieved the
most celebrated of his surgical victories.

"Mad, mad!" I exclaimed aloud, "nothing short of it." Why, such glaring
wholesale hypocrisy had not been committed since Satan first introduced
the vice into Paradise. What atrocity, what barefaced blasphemy! It was
the part of a Christian and a friend to attribute the extravagant
proceedings of the baron to abs