le Curé, I don't know where you learnt to officiate on a day like this, when the people ought to be all humility; but to hear you perform the service, is enough to drive away anybody's devotion.' 'How so, madame?' said the curé. 'How so?' said she, 'you have said a Passion contrary to all rules of decency. When our Lord speaks, you cry as if you were in the town-hall; and when it is a Caiaphas, or Pilate, or the Jews, you speak softly like a young bride. Is this becoming in one like you? are you fit to be a curé? If you had what you deserve, you would be turned out of your benefice, and then you would be made to know your fault!' When the curé had very attentively listened to her, he said, 'Is this what you had to say to me, madame? By my soul! it is very true, what they say; and the truth is, that there are many people who talk of things which they do not understand. Madame, I believe that I know my office as well as another, and I beg all the world to know that God is as well served in this parish according to its condition, as in any place within a hundred leagues of it. I know very well that the other curés chant the Passion quite differently; I could easily chant it like them if I would; but they do not understand their business at all. I should like to know if it becomes those rogues of Jews to speak as loud as our Lord! No, no, madame; rest assured that in my parish it is my will that God be the master, and He shall be as long as I live; and let the others do in their parishes according to their understanding.'" Another story, equally worthy of Ulric von Hutten, is satirical enough on priestly pedantry:--