D’Artagnan began to be tired, and so did the curate.
“See what an exordium!” cried the Jesuit.
“Exordium,” repeated the curate, for the sake of saying something. “QUEMADMODUM INTER COELORUM IMMENSITATEM.”
Aramis cast a glance upon d’Artagnan to see what effect all this produced, and found his friend gaping enough to split his jaws.
“Let us speak French, my father,” said he to the Jesuit; “Monsieur d’Artagnan will enjoy our conversation better.”
“Yes,” replied d’Artagnan; “I am fatigued with reading, and all this Latin confuses me.”
“Certainly,” replied the Jesuit, a little put out, while the curate, greatly delighted, turned upon d’Artagnan a look full of gratitude. “Well, let us see what is to be derived from this gloss. Moses, the servant of God-he was but a servant, please to understand-Moses blessed with the hands; he held out both his arms while the Hebrews beat their enemies, and then he blessed them with his two hands. Besides, what does the Gospel say? IMPONITE MANUS, and not MANUM-place the HANDS, not the HAND.”
“Place the HANDS,” repeated the curate, with a gesture.
“St. Peter, on the contrary, of whom the Popes are the successors,” continued the Jesuit; “PORRIGE DIGITOS-present the fingers. Are you there, now?”
“CERTES,” replied Aramis, in a pleased tone, “but the thing is subtle.”
“The FINGERS,” resumed the Jesuit, “St. Peter blessed with the FINGERS. The Pope, therefore blesses with the fingers. And with how many fingers does he bless? With THREE fingers, to be sure- one for the Father, one for the Son, and one for the Holy Ghost.”
All crossed themselves. D’Artagnan thought it was proper to follow this example.
“The Pope is the successor of St. Peter, and represents the three divine powers; the rest-ORDINES INFERIORES-of the ecclesiastical hierarchy bless in the name of the holy archangels and angels. The most humble clerks such as our deacons and sacristans, bless with holy water sprinklers, which resemble an infinite number of blessing fingers. There is the subject simplified. ARGUMENTUM OMNI DENUDATUM ORNAMENTO. I could make of that subject two volumes the size of this,” continued the Jesuit; and in his enthusiasm he struck a St. Chrysostom in folio, which made the table bend beneath its weight.
D’Artagnan trembled.
“CERTES,” said Aramis, “I do justice to the beauties of this thesis; but at the same time I perceive it would be overwhelming for me. I had chosen this text-tell me, dear d’Artagnan, if it is not to your taste-‘NON INUTILE EST DESIDERIUM IN OBLATIONE’; that is, ‘A little regret is not unsuitable in an offering to the Lord.'”
“Stop there!” cried the Jesuit, “for that thesis touches closely upon heresy. There is a proposition almost like it in the AUGUSTINUS of the heresiarch Jansenius, whose book will sooner or later be burned by the hands of the executioner. Take care, my young friend. You are inclining toward false doctrines, my young friend; you will be lost.”
“You will be lost,” said the curate, shaking his head sorrowfully.
“You approach that famous point of free will which is a mortal rock. You face the insinuations of the Pelagians and the semi- Pelagians.”
“But, my Reverend-” replied Aramis, a little amazed by the shower of arguments that poured upon his head.
“How will you prove,” continued the Jesuit, without allowing him time to speak, “that we ought to regret the world when we offer ourselves to God? Listen to this dilemma: God is God, and the world is the devil. To regret the world is to regret the devil; that is my conclusion.”
“And that is mine also,” said the curate.
“But, for heaven’s sake-” resumed Aramis.
“DESIDERAS DIABOLUM, unhappy man!” cried the Jesuit.
“He regrets the devil! Ah, my young friend,” added the curate, groaning, “do not regret the devil, I implore you!”
D’Artagnan felt himself bewildered. It seemed to him as though he were in a madhouse, and was becoming as mad as those he saw. He was, however, forced to hold his tongue from not comprehending half the language they employed.
“But listen to me, then,” resumed Aramis with politeness mingled with a little impatience. “I do not say I regret; no, I will never pronounce that sentence, which would not be orthodox.”