"Naturally," replied the cardinal. "Every man must be despondent who is
not a Christian."

"But I am a Christian," said Lothair.

"A Christian estranged," said the cardinal; "a Christian without the
consolations of Christianity."

"There is something in that," said Lothair. "I require the consolations
of Christianity, and yet I feel I have them not. Why is this?"

"Because what you call your religion is a thing apart from your life,
and it ought to be your life. Religion should be the rule of life, not
a casual incident of it. There is not a duty of existence, not a joy or
sorrow which the services of the Church do not assert, or with which
they do not sympathize. Tell me, now; you have, I was glad to hear,
attended the services of the Church of late, since you have been under
this admirable roof. Have you not then found some consolation?"

"Yes; without doubt I have been often solaced." And Lothair sighed.

"What the soul is to man, the Church is to the world," said the
cardinal. "It is the link between us and the Divine nature. It came
from heaven complete; it has never changed, and it can never alter. Its
ceremonies are types of celestial truths; its services are suited to all
the moods of man; they strengthen him in his wisdom and his purity, and
control and save him in the hour of passion and temptation. Taken as a
whole, with all its ministrations, its orders, its offices, and the
divine splendor of its ritual, it secures us on earth some adumbration