gan,
where in a semi-dark corner a strange casket covered over by a curtain,
and having a round glass attached was visible. On it was written in
Latin: "Memento mirror for Brother Paul, which will bring back his
veritable calling to his recollection." "When you have prayed," said
the Magister, inviting her to kneel by a gentle pressure on her young
shoulders, "look through this glass, and it will show you what awaits
you." He then ascended the pulpit and read slowly and with many
interruptions a meditation out of his book, which described in coarse
fanciful outlines, in stammering visionary language, the course, which
the phantasy of the worshipper should follow. "I see," he began in a
low suppressed tone, "the three Persons of the Godhead, looking down on
the entire globe, filled with men who must go down into hell." "I see,"
continued he after a pause, "how the Holy Trinity concludes, that the
second Person must take on himself human nature for the redemption of
lost sinners."

"I now survey," he then read out after another pause, "the whole
circumference of this earth and behold in a corner the hut of Mary. The
Holy Personages stand around the crib at Bethlehem. A beam of light
pours down on the divine child and I hear the song of praise of the
heavenly host: 'Glory to God in the Highest and on earth peace,
goodwill towards men.'"

Then all was still in the church; the setting sun threw its last golden
beams over the entablature. Stupefying clouds of incense arose in the
close chapel, and low, moaning, sighing tones proceeded from the organ;
they were motives from the Miserere, and Tenebrae played with
variations by the Italian. Then again the reading was continued in a
tone which fell like lead on the young souls of his audience, and
deadened every free action of the mind. The chords increased in power,
and filled the darkened space. The voices separated and joined again;
some notes expressed the deep subjection of the sinner, his contrite
humility, others spoke out in trumpet-like tones of the glorious
Majesty. Then all became a chaotic struggling and wrestling. It was as
if the earth itself opened its mouth to utter its sorrowful wail, and
heaven returned an answer. So must it thus sound, when the mountains of
the Alps join in converse, or the sea answers back the stormwind raging
over it. The entire sorrow of finality wailed in those tones to the
throne of the Highest, and the Grace from above came down, as hov