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Updated: June 15, 2025
"There is, mark you, no more striking an example of the power of prayer, and of the state of almost divine ecstasy, to which it may lead a religious soul. In a few words, I will relate to you this instructive and tragic history. Rancey but I beg your pardon; I fear I am trespassing on your time." "No, no," answered Hardy, hastily; "You cannot think how interested I am in what you tell me.
He ascended, as usual, the private staircase which led to the chamber of his mistress; he entered the room, his heart beating with love and hope. His mistress had died that morning!" "Ah!" cried Hardy, covering his face with his hands, in terror. "She was dead," resumed Rodin. "Two wax-candles were burning beside the funeral couch. Rancey could not, would not believe that she was dead.
"He related to me this kind of parable in support of his exhortations," replied Rodin. "Oh, sir! do I not owe to the consoling words of that young priest all that has strengthened and revived my poor old broken heart?" "Then I shall listen to you with a double interest." "Rancey was a man of the world," resumed Rodin, as he looked attentively at Hardy; "a gentleman young, ardent, handsome.
Too weak and loving to resist the prayers of his mistress, Rancey again and again yielded, and they both gave themselves up to a torrent of delight, which carried them along, forgetful of earth and heaven!" M. Hardy listened to Rodin with feverish and devouring avidity.
Rodin, having so far succeeded in his object, continued as follows: "A fatal day came at last. Rancey, obliged to go to the wars, quitted the girl; but, after a short campaign, he returned, more in love than ever. He had written privately, to say he would arrive almost immediately after his letter. He came accordingly. It was night.
Too weak and loving to resist the prayers of his mistress, Rancey again and again yielded, and they both gave themselves up to a torrent of delight, which carried them along, forgetful of earth and heaven!" M. Hardy listened to Rodin with feverish and devouring avidity.
"The delights of paradise?" repeated Hardy, listening with anxious attention. "One day, at the height of his grief, a priest, a good priest another Abbe Gabriel came to Rancey. Oh, happiness! oh, providential change!
Rodin perceived the other's thoughts, and continued "Oh, Rancey was not now the man to content himself with a vague, passing prayer, uttered in the whirl of the world's business, which swallows it up, and prevents it from reaching the ear of heaven.
"He related to me this kind of parable in support of his exhortations," replied Rodin. "Oh, sir! do I not owe to the consoling words of that young priest all that has strengthened and revived my poor old broken heart?" "Then I shall listen to you with a double interest." "Rancey was a man of the world," resumed Rodin, as he looked attentively at Hardy; "a gentleman young, ardent, handsome.
"There is, mark you, no more striking an example of the power of prayer, and of the state of almost divine ecstasy, to which it may lead a religious soul. In a few words, I will relate to you this instructive and tragic history. Rancey but I beg your pardon; I fear I am trespassing on your time." "No, no," answered Hardy, hastily; "You cannot think how interested I am in what you tell me.
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