Cardinal, as he resumed his seat opposite his visitor--"I, on the
contrary, have the pained and bitter sense that we are to blame for
all this 'multitude of the lost,' or at any rate that we could have
done more in the way of rescue than we have done." He paused a
moment, passing one hand across his forehead wearily. "In truth this
is what has for a long time weighed upon my mind, and depressed my
spirits even to the detriment of bodily health. I am nearing the
grave, and must soon give an account of my stewardship;--and the
knowledge of the increasing growth of evil in the world is almost
more than I can bear."

"But you are not to blame," said the Archbishop wonderingly,--"In
your own diocese you have fulfilled your duty; more than this is not
expected of you. You have done your best for the people you serve,--
and reports of your charities and good works are not lacking--"

"Do not credit such reports," interrupted the Cardinal, almost
sternly,--"I have done nothing--absolutely nothing! My life has been
too peaceful,--too many undeserved blessings have been bestowed upon
me. I much fear that the calm and quiet of my days have rendered me
selfish. I think I should long ago have sought some means of
engaging in more active duties. I feel as if I should have gone into
the thick of the religious contest, and spoken and fought, and
helped the sick and wounded of the mental battle,--but now--now it
is too late!"

"Nothing is too late for one in your position," said the Archbishop-
-"You may yet sit in St. Peter's chair!"

"God forbid!" ejaculated Bonpre fervently--"I would rather die! I