more than was in his power to perform,”.  From February to June, I was thus put off under various pretexts.  Worn out, at length, by so many fruitless efforts, I resolved to put an end to them, and mentioned the subject to your aunt, your mother’s sister, expressing to her my extreme annoyance.  She asked me if I had offered the priest the amount of the masses which he had promised to say?  “No,” I said, “the idea never occurred to me; but even if it had, I should not have dared to do it, for fear of offending him.  It is not usual”, I added scornfully, “to pay before one is served.  No one ever pays me for a saddle before I make it.”  “No matter,” replied your aunt, “my advice to you is to return to the priest, and offer to pay for the masses which you have ordered.”

I did as she advised me, and this time my request was favourably received.  The priest seized the six-franc piece which I laid on the table, looked at me and said, “Do you wish me to say six?” “No,” I replied, with a feeling of indignation which I could hardly repress—­“No, sir, I only want three.  Return to me the rest of the money; poor folks cannot afford to spend so much at once.”

I left the priest, thoroughly ashamed of having contributed to gratify his cupidity, and very much disposed to think the religion we were taught was nothing but a tissue of fables and impostures, to which the thirst of gold and silver had given birth.  I cannot tell you all the sad and painful reflections that occupied my mind during the remainder of that day; I was overcome by them, and rejoiced to see the night, hoping to find relief in sleep.  I went to bed, but could not close my eyes.  Still haunted by the remembrance of what had so disgusted me, a multitude of thoughts crowded on my imagination.  I knew that the priests claimed the word of God as their authority for all their doctrines and ceremonies, which word I also knew was contained in the Old and New Testaments, although, to my misfortune, I did not then regard them as a divine revelation.  In fact, I believed no more in the Holy Bible as the word of God, than I did in the doctrine of purgatory; still I felt a desire to search and to ascertain whether this lucrative doctrine was contained in the Gospel, and in what manner it was there established:  at the same moment I recollected that there was, on the chimney-piece of my room, a New Testament, in which I had learnt to read, but which I had never opened since I was nine or ten years old.  I jumped out of bed, and hastily dressing myself, resolved to begin, without delay, my researches on the subject of purgatory.

With this sole object in view, I read through the Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, the Epistles, and the Revelation of St. John; confining my attention exclusively to those points that tended either to establish or controvert this doctrine.  This perusal of the New Testament, which, from my eagerness to satisfy my curiosity and resolve my doubts, I accomplished without once stopping, except for refreshment, proved to me that the doctrine of purgatory was not to be found in the Gospel, but must have been derived from some other source.