“I cannot be in error, when I rely solely on the truths of Scripture,” rejoined Carver. “But there are doctrinal points upon which men are not agreed,” said the Cardinal. “There are,” replied Carver, “and my principles are those of the Reformed Church. I abominate the Church of Rome, and regard it as the synagogue of Satan, and the very sink of all heresy, superstition, and idolatry. I will have no masses, no auricular confession with penance, no image-worship. I deny the real presence in the sacrament. And I also deny that the Pope is the head of the Christian Church, and utterly reject his authority.” “But if I can prove to you that you are wrong,” said Pole; “if I can convince you that the Pope’s authority is derived from Saint Peter, and through him from our Saviour himself, will you not admit that you have formed erroneous conclusions?” “I believe the Romish faith to be anti-Christian and naught,” rejoined Carver. “I cannot worship at its altars, and were I to do so I should place my soul in jeopardy. It is in vain to argue with me. Threats or fair promises will be alike ineffectual. I am not be moved.” “But if you obstinately close your ears, how can you ever learn the truth?” said the Cardinal. “I _have_ learnt the truth,” rejoined Carver, “and am proof against fallacy and delusion. I have enough regard for your Eminence to wish you were of my mind.” “Well, try to convince me. Let me hear what you have to say in defence of your faith,” observed Pole. “’Twere to show him too much indulgence,” said Priuli. “I could say much in defence of my faith,” observed Carver, “but I know you would not listen to me, and I should therefore only throw away my time. But let me not appear ungrateful. I am assured that your Eminence is actuated by a sincere desire for my welfare.” “I would save you, if possible, from the terrible death by which you are menaced,” said the Cardinal. “Conform, and I will obtain your pardon. Reflect on what I have said.” “I need no reflection,” rejoined the other. “I could not conform with hypocrisy, and I will never belie my conscience.” “Have you no ties that bind you to earth?—none for whom you desire to live?” said the Cardinal. “I have a wife and children, and an aged mother,” replied Carver; “but I gave up all when I entered the service of my Heavenly Master.” “And would you leave them without a protector?” said Pole. “Heaven will watch over them,” rejoined the other. “This man appears callous to all human emotions and sympathies,” observed Priuli. “There you do not judge me rightly,” said Carver. “My breast is not devoid of affection. I love my wife and children—I love my mother—dearly—very dearly. But I am a soldier of Christ, and having been summoned to the fight, must obey the call. If I die in His cause, those dear to me will not be deserted. You cannot touch me. There is no weak part in my armour.” “Then you do not desire to confer with me further?” said Pole. “You have nothing to ask of me?”