Who was this Peter, under whose protection it is assumed to place England? An ordinary man, unstable in character, impulsive, blowing hot and cold at a breath, declaring he would never leave Jesus, and then swearing that he never knew him, as much a betrayer at heart as Judas, but not as manly, for Judas showed his consciousness of the wrong he had done by killing himself, while Peter, shrewd as a modern Jesuit, shuffled out of his brazen falsehood around to the winning side. In mental ability he was inferior to any of his fellows, a bigot in his belief and in his character, far less to be admired than any of the others. Supposing him to have been transcendent in virtue, wisdom and goodness above all other men who have ever lived, and to have been absolutely perfect, yet he was only a man. Then why should he be made a saint, or be invested with divine power and made protector of anything, in the place of God? In respect to mankind, the veneration of Peter and attributing to him power or authority above all other men is absurd, but when considered in respect to God, it is outrageous blasphemy and idolatry. It is placing a creature, and a very insignificant one in the place of the Creator. CHAPTER XXIV. One day, reading in my library so intently that I did not hear the sound of wheels, my bearer brought me a card on which was the name “Mrs. Clement.” I told him to show her into the drawing room. Soon I went in and saw an elderly lady, slender in form, with snow-white hair drawn up in curls at the side of her forehead and with a very bright, intelligent face. She was old in years, but evidently young in heart and mind. All this I saw at a glance. With her was a young man whom I judged at once to be her son, slender and delicate with a bright face partially covered with a beard and a heavy moustache. On my entering the room they rose and greeted me, the mother introducing the young man as her son. We then seated ourselves, and had some introductory talk, probably about the weather, or some such interesting, novel subject. In fact I had become so absorbed in reading Plato’s “New Republic,” that I was still in a dreamy state and supposed they had called on some matter of business.