“These, sir, are the opening words of a fine book, written by Father Barry of our Society; for I never give you anything of my own.” “What book is it?” asked I. “Here is its title,” he replied: “‘_Paradise opened to Philagio, in a Hundred Devotions to the Mother of God, easily practised._’” “Indeed, father! and is each of these easy devotions a sufficient passport to heaven?” “It is,” returned he. “Listen to what follows: ‘The devotions to the Mother of God, which you will find in this book, are so many celestial keys, which will open wide to you the gates of paradise, provided you practise them;’ and accordingly, he says at the conclusion, ‘that he is satisfied if you practise only one of them.’” “Pray, then, father, do teach me one of the easiest of them.” “They are all easy,” he replied; “for example—‘Saluting the Holy Virgin when you happen to meet her image—saying the little chaplet of the pleasures of the Virgin—fervently pronouncing the name of Mary—commissioning the angels to bow to her for us—wishing to build her as many churches as all the monarchs on earth have done—bidding her good morrow every morning, and good night in the evening—saying the _Ave Maria_ every day, in honor of the heart of Mary’—which last devotion, he says, possesses the additional virtue of securing us the heart of the Virgin.”[184] “But, father,” said I, “only provided we give her our own in return, I presume?” “That,” he replied, “is not absolutely necessary, when a person is too much attached to the world. Hear Father Barry: ‘Heart for heart would, no doubt, be highly proper; but yours is rather too much attached to the world, too much bound up in the creature, so that I dare not advise you to offer, at present, that _poor little slave_ which you call your heart.’ And so he contents himself with the _Ave Maria_ which he had prescribed.”[185] “Why, this is extremely easy work,” said I, “and I should really think that nobody will be damned after that.” “Alas!” said the monk, “I see you have no idea of the hardness of some people’s hearts. There are some, sir, who would never engage to repeat, every day, even these simple words, _Good day_, _Good evening_, just because such a practice would require some exertion of memory. And, accordingly, it became necessary for Father Barry to furnish them with expedients still easier, such as wearing a chaplet night and day on the arm, in the form of a bracelet, or carrying about one’s person a rosary, or an image of the Virgin.[186] ‘And, tell me now,’ as Father Barry says, ‘if I have not provided you with easy devotions to obtain the good graces of Mary?’” “Extremely easy indeed, father,” I observed.