“Yes, but Mr. Ferrars is an Erastian,” said Nigel; “you need not tell him I said so, but he is one. He wants the Church to be the servant of the State, and all that sort of thing, but that will not do any longer. This destruction of the Irish bishoprics has brought affairs to a crisis. No human power has the right to destroy a bishopric. It is a divinely-ordained office, and when a diocese is once established, it is eternal.” “I see,” said Endymion, much interested. “I wish,” continued Nigel, “you were two or three years older, and Mr. Ferrars could send you to Oxford. That is the place to understand these things, and they will soon be the only things to understand. The rector knows nothing about them. My father is thoroughly high and dry, and has not the slightest idea of Church principles.” “Indeed!” said Endymion. “It is quite a new set even at Oxford,” continued Nigel; “but their principles are as old as the Apostles, and come down from them, straight.” “That is a long time ago,” said Endymion. “I have a great fancy,” continued Nigel, without apparently attending to him, “to give you a thorough Church education. It would be the making of you. You would then have a purpose in life, and never be in doubt or perplexity on any subject. We ought to move heaven and earth to induce Mr. Ferrars to send you to Oxford.” “I will speak to Myra about it,” said Endymion. “I said something of this to your sister the other day,” said Nigel, “but I fear she is terribly Erastian. However, I will give you something to read. It is not very long, but you can read it at your leisure, and then we will talk over it afterwards, and perhaps I may give you something else.” Endymion did not fail to give a report of this conversation and similar ones to his sister, for he was in the habit of telling her everything. She listened with attention, but not with interest, to his story. Her expression was kind, but hardly serious. Her wondrous eyes gave him a glance of blended mockery and affection. “Dear darling,” she said, “if you are to be a clergyman, I should like you to be a cardinal.” CHAPTER XV