“The truth is,” said he after reflection, “that the assiduous practice of religion generally results in some intense effects on the soul.  Only they may be of two kinds.  Either it develops the soul’s taint and evolves in it the final ferments which putrefy it once for all, or it purifies the spirit and makes it clean and clear and exquisite.  It may produce hypocrites or good and saintly people; there is really no medium.

“But when such divine husbandry has completely cleansed souls, how guileless and how pure they may be!  Nor am I speaking of the Elect, such as I saw at La Trappe—­merely of young novices, little priestlings whom I have known.  They had eyes like clear glass, undimmed by the haze of a single sin; and, looking into them, behind those eyes you would have seen their open soul burning like a soaring crown of fire framing the smiling face in a halo of white name.

“In fact, Jesus simply fills up all the room in their soul.  Do not you think, Monsieur l’Abbe, that these youths occupy their bodies just enough for suffering and to expiate the sins of others?  Without knowing it, they have been sent into the world to be safe tenements of the Lord, the resting-place where Jesus finds a home after wandering over the frozen steppes of other souls.”

“Yes,” said the Abbe, taking off his spectacles to wipe them on his bandana, “but to acquire so fine a strain of being, how much mortification, penance, and prayer have been needed in the generations that have ended by giving them birth!  The spirits of whom you speak are the flower of a stem long nourished in a pious soil.  The Spirit, of course, bloweth where it listeth, and may find a saint in the heart of a listless family; but this mode of operation must always be an exception.  The novices you have known must certainly have had grandmothers and mothers who frequently incited them to kneel and pray by their side.”

“I do not know—­I knew nothing of the origin of these lads—­but I feel that you are right.  It is obvious, indeed, that children, slowly brought up from their earliest years, and sheltered from the world under the shadow of such a sanctuary as this at Chartres, must end in the blossoming of an unique flower.”

And when Durtal told him of the impression made on him by the angelic service of the Mass, the Abbe smiled.

“Though our boys are not unique, they are no doubt rare.  Here, the Virgin Herself trains them, and note, the little lad you saw is neither more diligent nor more conscientious than his fellows; they are all alike.  Dedicated to the priesthood from the time when they can first understand, they learn quite naturally to lead a spiritual life from their constant intimacy with the services.”

“What then is the system of this Institution?”

“The Foundation of the Clerks of Our Lady dates from 1853, or rather it was reconstituted in that year—­for it existed in the Middle Ages—­by the Abbe Ychard.  Its purpose is to increase the number of priests by admitting poor boys to begin their studies.  It receives intelligent and pious children of every nationality, if they are supposed to show any vocation for Holy Orders.  They remain in the choir school till they are in the third class, and are then transferred to the Seminary.