the inextinguishable fervor of charity which glowed in his heart

appeared to shine from them. The gestures that he made but rarely were
simple and natural, his appeared to be a quiet and retiring nature,

and there was a modesty and simplicity like that of a young girl about
his actions. At first sight he inspired respect and a vague desire to

be admitted to his friendship.
"Ah! M. le Maire," he said, bending as though to escape from Benassis'

eulogium.
Something in the cure's tones brought a thrill to Genestas' heart, and

the two insignificant words uttered by this stranger priest plunged
him into musings that were almost devout.

"Gentlemen," said Jacquotte, who came into the middle of the room, and
there took her stand, with her hands on her hips, "the soup is on the

table."
Invited by Benassis, who summoned each in turn so as to avoid

questions of precedence, the doctor's five guests went into the
dining-room; and after the cure, in low and quiet tones, had repeated

a Benedicite, they took their places at table. The cloth that covered
the table was of that peculiar kind of damask linen invented in the

time of Henry IV. by the brothers Graindorge, the skilful weavers, who
gave their name to the heavy fabric so well known to housekeepers. The

linen was of dazzling whiteness, and fragrant with the scent of the
thyme that Jacquotte always put into her wash-tubs. The dinner service

was of white porcelain, edged with blue, and was in perfect order. The
decanters were of the old-fashioned octagonal kind still in use in the

provinces, though they have disappeared elsewhere. Grotesque figures
had been carved on the horn handles of the knives. These relics of

ancient splendor, which, nevertheless, looked almost new, seemed to
those who scrutinized them to be in keeping with the kindly and open-

hearted nature of the master of the house.
The lid of the soup-tureen drew a momentary glance from Genestas; he

noticed that it was surmounted by a group of vegetables in high
relief, skilfully colored after the manner of Bernard Palissy, the

celebrated sixteenth century craftsman.
There was no lack of character about the group of men thus assembled.

The powerful heads of Genestas and Benassis contrasted admirably with
M. Janvier's apostolic countenance; and in the same fashion the

elderly faces of the justice of the peace and the deputy-mayor brought
out the youthfulness of the notary. Society seemed to be represented

by these various types. The expression of each one indicated
contentment with himself and with the present, and a faith in the

future. M. Tonnelet and M. Janvier, who were still young, loved to
make forecasts of coming events, for they felt that the future was

theirs; while the other guests were fain rather to turn their talk
upon the past. All of them faced the things of life seriously, and

their opinions seemed to reflect a double tinge of soberness, on the
one hand, from the twilight hues of well-nigh forgotten joys that

could never more be revived for them; and, on the other, from the gray
dawn which gave promise of a glorious day.

"You must have had a very tiring day, sir?" said M. Cambon, addressing
the cure.

"Yes, sir," answered M. Janvier, "the poor cretin and Pere Pelletier
were buried at different hours."

"Now we can pull down all the hovels of the old village," Benassis
remarked to his deputy. "When the space on which the houses stand has

been grubbed up, it will mean at least another acre of meadow land for
us; and furthermore, there will be a clear saving to the Commune of

the hundred francs that it used to cost to keep Chautard the cretin."
"For the next three years we ought to lay out the hundred francs in

making a single-span bridge to carry the lower road over the main
stream," said M. Cambon. "The townsfolk and the people down the valley

have fallen into the way of taking a short cut across that patch of
land of Jean Francois Pastoureau's; before they have done they will

cut it up in a way that will do a lot of harm to that poor fellow."
"I am sure that the money could not be put to a better use," said the

justice of peace. "In my opinion the abuse of the right of way is one
of the worst nuisances in a country district. One-tenth of the cases

that come before the court are caused by unfair easement. The rights
of property are infringed in this way almost with impunity in many and

many a commune. A respect for the law and a respect for property are
ideas too often disregarded in France, and it is most important that

they should be inculcated. Many people think that there is something
dishonorable in assisting the law to take its course. 'Go and be

hanged somewhere else,' is a saying which seems to be dictated by an
unpraiseworthy generosity of feeling; but at the bottom it is nothing

but a hypocritical formula--a sort of veil which we throw over our own
selfishness. Let us own to it, we lack patriotism! The true patriot is

the citizen who is so deeply impressed with a sense of the importance
of the laws that he will see them carried out even at his own cost and

inconvenience. If you let the criminal go in peace, are you not making
yourself answerable for the crimes he will commit?"

"It is all of a piece," said Benassis. "If the mayors kept their roads
in better order, there would not be so many footpaths. And if the

members of Municipal Councils knew a little better, they would uphold
the small landowner and the mayor when the two combine to oppose the

establishment of unfair easements. The fact that chateau, cottage,
field, and tree are all equallysacred would then be brought home in

every way to the ignorant; they would be made to understand that Right
is just the same in all cases, whether the value of the property in

question be large or small. But such salutary changes cannot be
brought about all at once. They depend almost entirely on the moral

condition of the population, which we can never completely reform
without the potent aid of the cures. This remark does not apply to you

in any way, M. Janvier."
"Nor do I take it to myself," laughed the cure. "Is not my heart set

on bringing the teaching of the Catholic religion to co-operate with
your plans of administration? For instance, I have often tried, in my

pulpit discourses on theft, to imbue the folk of this parish with the
very ideas of Right to which you have just given utterance. For truly,

God does not estimate theft by the value of the thing stolen, He looks
at the thief. That has been the gist of the parables which I have

tried to adapt to the comprehension of my parishioners."
"You have succeeded, sir," said Cambon. "I know the change you have

brought about in people's ways of looking at things, for I can compare
the Commune as it is now with the Commune as it used to be. There are

certainly very few places where the laborers are as careful as ours
are about keeping the time in their working hours. The cattle are well

looked after; any damage that they do is done by accident. There is no
pilfering in the woods, and finally you have made our peasants clearly

understand that the leisure of the rich is the reward of a thrifty and
hard-working life."

"Well, then," said Genestas, "you ought to be pretty well pleased with
your infantry, M. le Cure."

"We cannot expect to find angels anywhere here below, captain,"
answered the priest. "Wherever there is poverty, there is suffering

too; and suffering and poverty are strong compelling forces which have
their abuses, just as power has. When the peasants have a couple of

leagues to walk to their work, and have to tramp back wearily in the
evening, they perhaps see sportsmen taking short cuts over ploughed

land and pasture so as to be back to dinner a little sooner, and is it
to be supposed that they will hesitate to follow the example? And of

those who in this way beat out a footpath such as these gentlemen have
just been complaining about, which are the real offenders, the workers

or the people who are simply amusing themselves? Both the rich and the
poor give us a great deal of trouble these days. Faith, like power,

ought always to descend from the heights above us, in heaven or on
earth; and certainly in our times the upper classes have less faith in

them than the mass of the people, who have God's promise of heaven
hereafter as a reward for evils patiently endured. With due submission

to ecclesiasticaldiscipline, and deference to the views of my
superiors, I think that for some time to come we should be less

exacting as to questions of doctrine, and rather endeavor to revive
the sentiment of religion in the hearts of the intermediary classes,

who debate over the maxims of Christianity instead of putting them in
practice. The philosophism of the rich has set a fatal example to the

poor, and has brought about intervals of too long duration when men
have faltered in their allegiance to God. Such ascendency as we have

over our flocks to-day depends entirely on our personal influence with