“No; certainly not.  For otherwise it would be necessary that the people should ascertain whether the priest is in a state of grace every time he celebrates; and since their salvation would then, depend upon that, they would be committing a sin if they did not examine the relative morality of different priests and select the most saintly one.”

“Well then, so much the more is it indifferent whether the inanimate vessels we use are chiselled by a saint or an unbeliever.  Their use sanctifies them, not the moral goodness of the artist.  For, by your own argument, we should otherwise he committing a sin if we did not find out the most saintly men and set them to silver-chiselling instead of ordaining them bishops and archbishops.  It would take a long time to build a church if you only employed masons who were in a state of grace.”

“Well, but would you not prefer that the artist should be a good man?”

“For his own sake, Don Paolo, for his own sake.  The thing he makes is not at all less worthy if he is bad.  Are there not in many of our churches pillars that stood in Roman temples?  Is not the canopy over the high altar in Saint Peter’s made of the bronze roof of the Pantheon?  And besides, what is goodness?  We are all bad, but some are worse than others.  It is not our business to judge, or to distribute commissions for works of art to those whom we think the best among men, as one gives medals and prizes to industrious and well-behaved children.”

“That is very clear, and very true,” answered the priest.

He did not really want to discuss the question of Marzio’s belief or unbelief.  Perhaps, if he had not been disturbed in mind by the events of the morning he would have avoided the subject, as he had often done before when the Cardinal had questioned him.  But to-day he was not quite himself, and being unable to tell a falsehood of any kind he had spoken more of idle truth than he had wished.  He felt that he had perhaps been unjust to his brother.  He looked ill at ease, and the Cardinal noticed it, for he was a kindly man and very fond of his secretary.

“You must not let the matter trouble you,” said the prelate, after a pause.  “I am an inquisitive old man, as you know, and I like to be acquainted with my friends’ affairs.  But I am afraid I have annoyed you—­”

“Oh!  Your Eminence could never—­”

“Never intentionally,” interrupted the Cardinal.  “But it is human to err, and it is especially human to bore one’s fellow-creatures with inquisitive questions.  We all have our troubles, Don Paolo, and I am yours.  Some day, perhaps, you will be a cardinal yourself—­who knows?  I hope so.  And then you will have an excellent secretary, who will be much too good, even for you, and whom you can torture by the hour together with inquiries about his relations.  Well, if it is only for your sake, Sor Marzio shall never have any fewer commissions, even if he turn out more in earnest with his socialism than most of those fellows.”