The African learns, while in England, what was the real aim of the warlike preparations he saw going on in Portugal. He hears of the taking of Ceuta,--an event which excites almost as much interest in England as in Portugal; for the English are supposed to have had a great part in this success. He hears, however, the chief merit ascribed to a beneficent being who bears the title of "The Lady of Mercy." It seems, the besiegers landed on a day especially consecrated to her; and to her kind interposition is referred the taking of the city and the terrible slaughter of the Moors who defended it. The African asks how favors of this kind can be made consistent with the character ascribed to this divinity, and is answered, that her mercies are for those who reverence her,--that the unbelieving Moors have no claim on her grace. He is pained; for the lovely qualities he has heard attributed to this gracious being had drawn his heart to her as to one well fitted to be a dispenser of the bounties of Heaven. But it does not appear that she is consistent even in the protection of Christians; for he hears it mentioned as an auspicious augury, that the English king effected his landing in the Christian kingdom of France on the eve of her chosen day; and later, when the Battle of Agincourt fills England with rejoicing, he hears the circumstance again referred to, and the Merciful Lady invoked as a benefactress. He is daily more and more perplexed in regard to the religion of the Christians. He obtains instruction of an English priest, and finds he has made no mistake as to its tenets: it is understood to teach universal love and ready forgiveness in England as in Portugal. Yet he observes that nothing is considered more shameful among Christians than to pardon an injury; even the smallest affront is to be atoned by blood; and so far from the estimation in which a man is held depending on the good he has done, he is the greatest man who has slain the greatest number of his fellow-creatures. As he stands one day before a cathedral, marvelling how people so selfish and narrow in their religious views could imagine this grand temple, which seems, indeed, raised to the Universal Father, his attention is drawn to a man of noble aspect, who is observing him with a look so kind and pitiful that he is emboldened to give the confidence which it seems to invite. "I cannot understand the religion of the Christians!" "The time will come when they will understand it better themselves. They are now like little children, who do, indeed, reverence the words of their father, but have not yet understanding to comprehend and follow them."