"Had Moodie not been too impatient to stay with us longer," said L'Isle, "he might have heard me admit, that though the Church of Rome has kept the truth, it has not been content with it, but has mingled with it so large a mass of falsehood, that the truth it teaches is no longer pure. It has not thrown away the God-given treasure, but it has piled over it such an ever accumulating heap of rubbish that it is not easily found. It may have guarded the fountain of life-giving waters, but has so hedged it in with a labyrinth of superstitions and ceremonial rites, that it is almost inaccessible to the flock." "Call Moodie back, and redeem yourself in his opinion," said Mrs. Shortridge. "He is now mourning over your approaching conversion to Rome." "It is useless," said Lady Mabel. "Moodie sets no value on half-truths." "Moodie denies there being any Christianity left in Popery," said L'Isle. "I assert that there is many a thorough, though unconscious Papist among Protestants. Popery is not so much an accidental bundle of errors, as a spontaneous and necessary growth from corrupt human nature. Thus many a charity, with us, originates in the hope of atoning for sins; many seek salvation through vicarious but human means; many a sectarian, especially among women is not so much the member of a church, as the follower of an idolized man. There are Protestant popes, whose words are bulls in their little popedoms, and Protestant saints who, unlike those of Rome, are canonized in life by their handful of followers." "I think I could find a patron saint for Moodie," said Lady Mabel. "At least I do not think he would have been startled as I was, on hearing a minister of the Kirk, after exhausting his powers of eulogy on the great Apostle of the Gentiles, crown his praise by likening the prisoner Paul preaching boldly in bonds before the Roman governor, in whose hand was his life, to John Knox, the mouth-piece of the dominant faction, bullying a lady and his queen, a capture in their hands. This was a strange canonization of John Knox, or a singular degradation of St. Paul. But I see that our dinner waits us; and though this is a charming spot, we must not linger here too long. I am sure," she added, "that the shy and meditative stork, who left us so abruptly, must be a deep theologian, for it was he who suggested this learned discertation on the church." The travelers dined here under the shade of the trees, and soon after took horse again. Moodie threw himself into the saddle with a spirit and activity which led Lady Mabel to say: "Your good wine, Colonel L'Isle, has done wonders for Moodie. It carries him well through the labors of the day." "It seems to have cured his ailing body," said L'Isle, "but has not mellowed his temper. He grows more crusty than ever." "In him," said Lady Mabel, "crustiness is the natural condition, and betokens health."