can turn to her as to a strong rock whereto they may always resort, a shield against aggressive Atheism, a tower of defence against all spiritual foes. Their responsibility is eased off their shoulders; they need not think; they have but to trust and obey. They receive the light yoke laid upon them by an infallible authority, and they need not fret themselves about its source. They repose in a palace of archaism, and can shut their eyes in comfort to what the infidel world calls the facts of science. A ready-made and regenerate conscience is supplied to them on easy terms. Why would you disturb this happy family?’
Both his visitors laughed at the undisguised irony which ran through this defence of catholicism.
‘Your Eminence reminds me of the Parliamentary debate we were talking about at tea,’ said Lesbia. ‘It would appear that the mission of the Church of Rome also is to be jolly herself and teach surrounding Churches to be jolly.’
‘Evidently it comes to that,’ said the cardinal, with such simplicity that the other two laughed again. ‘The more so,’ he resumed, ‘because there is another consideration. The happy and holy family is flourishing. Propagandism thrives; more pence jingle into Peter’s box; fine new churches, convents, and even monasteries are springing up; in short, the old thing pays. Why upset it?’
‘That is plausible, Cardinal Power,’ answered Mr Bristley, ‘plausible, but not sound. In the first place, it is not a question of upsetting catholicism, but of strengthening it,—raising it above competition. ‘Then you say it flourishes and extends; good, I am glad to hear it. But may not the same be said for every sect or church, for the Salvation Army, for the Jews themselves? The reason is not far to seek: this is an age of tolerance, and why should Roman Catholicism not be tolerated equally with other creeds? But it is not an age of tolerance merely, it is also an age
