How is it possible for myself, for example, to give people to understand that I believe in the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception or in the Lourdes miracles? If the Pope could spare time to think about so insignificant a person, would he wish me to pretend such beliefs or think better of me if I did pretend them? I should be sorry to see him turn suddenly round and deny his own faith, and I am persuaded that, in like manner, he would have me continue to hold my own in peace; nevertheless, the duty of subordinating private judgment to the avoidance of schism is so obvious that, if we could see a practicable way of bridging the gulf between ourselves and Rome, we should be heartily glad to bridge it. I speak as though the Church of Rome was the only one we can look to. I do not see how it is easy to dispute this. Protestantism has been tried and failed; it has long ceased to grow, but it has by no means ceased to disintegrate. Note the manner in which it is torn asunder by dissensions, and the rancour which these dissensions engender--a rancour which finds its way into the political and social life of Europe, with incalculable damage to the health and well-being of the world. Who can doubt but that there will be a split even in the Church of England ere so many years are over? Protestantism is like one of those drops of glass which tend to split up into minuter and minuter fragments the moment the bond that united them has been removed. It is as though the force of gravity had lost its hold, and a universal power of repulsion taken the place of attraction. This may, perhaps, come about some day in the material as well as in the spiritual and political world, but the spirit of the age is as yet one of aggregation; the spirit of Protestantism is one of disintegration. I maintain, therefore, that it is not likely to be permanent.