Cæcilius answered, “But how could you promise yourself that you would be able to obtain the sacrament at the last moment? The water and the administrator might come just too late; and then where would you be, my son? And then again, how do you know you would wish it? Is your will simply in your own power? ‘Carpe diem;’ take God’s gift while you can.”

“The benefit is so immense,” answered Agellius, “that one would wish, if one could, to enter into the unseen world without losing its fulness. This cannot be, if a long time elapses between baptism and death.”

“You are, then, of the number of those,” said Cæcilius, “who would cheat their Maker of His claim on their life, provided they could (as it is said) in their last moment cheat the devil.”

Agellius continuing silent, Cæcilius added, “You want to enjoy this world, and to inherit the next; is it so?”

“I am puzzled, my head is weak, father; I do not see my way to speak.” Presently he said, “Sin after baptism is so awful a matter; there is no second laver for sin; and then again, to sin against baptism is so great a sin.”

The priest said, “In baptism God becomes your Father; your own God; your worship; your love—can you give up this great gift all through your life? Would you live ‘without God in this world’?”

Tears came into Agellius’s eyes, and his throat became oppressed. At last he said, distinctly and tenderly, “No.”

After a while the priest said, “I suppose what you fear is the fire of judgment, and the prison; not lest you should fall away and be lost.”

“I know, my dear father,” answered the sick youth, “that I have no right to reckon on anything, or promise myself anything; yet somehow I have never feared hell—though I ought, I know I ought; but I have not. I deserve the worst, but somehow I have thought that God would lead me on. He ever has done so.”

“Then you fear the fire of judgment,” said Cæcilius; “you’d put off baptism for fear of that fire.”

“I did not say I would,” answered Agellius; “I wanted you to explain the thing to me.”

“Which would you rather, Agellius, be without God here, or suffer the fire there?”

Agellius smiled; he said faintly, “I take Him for my portion here and there: He will be in the fire with me.”

Agellius lay quiet for some hours, and seemed asleep. Suddenly he began again, “I was baptized when I was only six years old. I’m glad you do not think it was wilful in me, and wrong. I cannot tell what took me,” he presently continued. “It was a fervour; I have had nothing of the kind since. What does our Lord say? I can’t remember: ‘Novissima pejora prioribus.’”