At last, the dread moment arrived, I knelt for the first time, at the side of my confessor, my whole frame trembled: I repeated the prayer preparatory to confession, scarcely knowing what I said, so much was I troubled by fears. By the instructions which had been given us before confession, we had been made to believe that the priest was the true representative, yea, almost the personification of Jesus Christ. The consequence was that I believed my greatest sin was that of mocking the priest--and I, as I had been told that it was proper first to confess the greatest sins, I commenced thus: "Father I accuse myself of having mocked a priest!" Hardly had I uttered these words, "mocked a priest", when this pretended representative of the humble Jesus, turning towards me, and looking in my face, in order to know me, better, asked abruptly; "what priest did you mock, my boy?" I would have rather chosen to cut my own tongue than to tell him to his face who it was. I, therefore, kept silent for a while, but my silence made him very nervous, and almost angry. With a haughty tone of voice, he said: "what priest did you take the liberty of thus mocking, my boy?" I saw that I had to answer. Happily his haughtiness had made me bolder and firmer; I said: "sir, you are the priest whom I mocked!" "But how many times did you take upon you to mock me, my boy?" asked he angrily. "I tried to find out the number of times, but I never could." "You must tell me how many times, for to mock one's own priest is a great sin." "It is impossible for me to give you the number of times," I answered. "Well, my child, I will help your memory by asking you questions. Tell me the truth. Do you think you mocked me ten times?" "A great many times more," I answered. "Have you mocked me fifty times?" "Oh! many more still!" "A hundred times?" "Say, five hundred, and perhaps more;" I answered. "Well, my boy, do you spend all your time in mocking me?" "Not all my time: but unfortunately, I have done it very often." "Yes may you say: "unfortunately!" for to mock, your priest, who holds the place of our Lord Jesus Christ, is a great sin and a great misfortune for you. But tell me, my little boy, what reason have you for mocking me, thus?" In my examination of conscience, I had not forseen that I should be obliged to give the reasons for mocking the priest, and I was thunderstruck by his questions. I dared not answer, and I remained for a long time dumb, from the shame that overpowered me. But, with a harassing perseverance, the priest insisted upon my telling why I had mocked him: assuring me that I would be damned if I did not speak the whole truth. So, I decided to speak, and I said: "I mocked you for several things." "What made you, first mock me?" asked the priest. "I laughed at you, because you lisp: among the pupils of the school, and other people, it often happens that we imitate your preaching to laugh at you," I answered.