"When the son of Man cometh, think ye He shall find faith on earth?"

Slowly he withdrew his hand from his eyes and gazed about him, half-
startled, half-appalled. Had anyone spoken these words?--or had they
risen of themselves as it were in letters of fire out of the sea of
music that was heaving and breaking tumultuously about him?

"WHEN THE SON OF MAN COMETH, THINK YE HE SHALL FIND FAITH ON EARTH?"

The question seemed to be whispered in his ears with a thrilling
intensity of meaning; and moved by a sudden introspective and
retrospective repentance, the gentle old man began mentally to grope
his way back over the past years of his life, and to ask himself
whether in very truth that life had been well or ill spent? Viewed
by his own inner contemplative vision, Cardinal Felix Bonpre saw in
himself nothing but wilful sin and total unworthiness;--but in the
eyes of those he had served and assisted, he was a blameless
priest,--a man beloved of God, and almost visibly encompassed by the
guardianship of angels. He had been singularly happy in his election
to a diocese which, though it had always had an Archbishop for its
spiritual head, boasted scarce as many inhabitants as a prosperous
English village,--and the result of this was that he had lived
altogether away from the modern world, passing most of his time in
reading and study,--while for relaxation, he permitted himself only
the innocent delight of growing the finest roses in his
neighbourhood. But he had pious scruples even about this rose-
growing fancy of his,--he had a lurking distrust of himself in it,
as to whether it was not a purely selfish pleasure,--and therefore,
to somewhat smooth the circumstance, he never kept any of the choice
blooms for his own gratification, but gave the best of them with a