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senses, transported my heart. Already accustomed to look upon every thing as a riddle, as a concealed mystery of love, the celebration of the Mass appeared to me as elevated and divine, as revelation and work of art, as type and fulfilment at the same time, and each word spoken, or sung as it fell on my ear in the full force of its signification, drove back a bolt from my heart. Art and nature changed before my eyes, the element of water became glorified, in the fire, in the light of the church tapers as well as that of the house, I perceived and recognised the whole tenor of the secret of nature. The nights became too short to enable us to impart to each other all that arose in our minds. A young abbé, a mild, miracle-believing enthusiast was often the third in our consultations in the open air or within doors, and his learning, his knowledge in old legends and histories of the church gave to all our spiritual movements body and presence, yes, my friend, this rosy period of my youth was