“By no means. That is a question which I leave entirely to your own decision. My own idea is that you would like a free hand. You will have to leave the Church sooner or later. A man with your advanced ideas cannot regulate your pace to that of an old woman. In twenty years the Church will think precisely as you think to-day. That is the way with the Church. It opposes everything in the way of an innovation. You stated the case very fairly in your paper. The Church opposes every discovery and every new thing as long as possible. It then only accepts grudgingly what all civilization has accepted cordially. Oh, yes, you’ll find it impossible to remain in the Church, Mr. Holland. ‘Crabbed age and youth,’ you know.” “I should part from the Church with the greatest reluctance, Mr. Linton.” “Then don’t part from it, only don’t place yourself in its power. Don’t be beholden to it for your income. Don’t go to the heads of the Church for orders. Be your own master and in plain words, run the concern on your own lines. The widow of the founder will have no power to interfere with you in the matter of such arrangements.” “I shall have to give the matter a good deal of thought. I should naturally have to reform a good deal of the ritual.” “Naturally. The existing ritual is only a compromise. And as for the hymns which are sung, why is it necessary for them to be doggerel before they are devotional?” “The hymns are for the most part doggerel. We should have a first-rate choir and anthems--not necessarily taken from the Bible. Why should not Shakspere be sung in churches--Shakspere’s divine poetry instead of the nonsense-rhymes that people call hymns? Shakspere and Milton; Shelley I would not debar; Wordsworth’s sonnets. But the scheme will require a great deal of thought.” “A great deal; that is why I leave it in your hands. You are a thinking man--you are not afraid of tradition.” “Tradition--tradition! the ruts made in the road by the vehicles that have passed over it in years gone by!” “The road to the Church is sadly in need of macadamizing, Mr. Holland--or, better still, asphalting. Make a bicycle road of it, and you are all right. Now, come with me to my club and have lunch. We’ll talk no more just now about this matter.” They went out together. CHAPTER XXX. THERE IS NO ONE I LIKE BETTER THAN PHYLLIS. Phyllis Ayrton had spent a considerable time pondering over that problem of how best to save a man and a woman from destruction--social, perhaps; eternal, for certain. She felt that it had been laid upon her to save them both, and she remembered the case of one Jonah, a prophet, who, in endeavoring to escape from the disagreeable duty with which he had been intrusted, had had an experience that was practically unique, even among prophets. She would not try to evade her responsibility in this matter.