“Well,” said Mr. Cuthbert, “their sanction is practically divine. We read that in the last days spent by our Lord in His glorified nature on the earth, He ‘spake to them of the things concerning the Kingdom of God.’ I myself think it is only reasonable to suppose that He was laying down the precise ceremonial that He wished should attend the worship of His Kingdom. I do not think that extravagant.” “But,” I said, “was not the whole tenor of His teaching against such ceremonial precision? Did He not for His Sacraments choose the simplest and humblest actions of daily life—eating and drinking? Was He not always finding fault with the Pharisees for forgetting spiritual truth in their zeal for tradition and practice?” “Yes,” said Mr. Cuthbert, “for _forgetting_ the weightier matters of the law; but He approved of their ceremonial. He said: ‘These ought ye to have done, and not to have left the other undone.’” “I believe myself,” I said, “that He felt they should have obeyed their conscience in the matter; but surely the whole of the teaching of the Gospel is to loose human beings from tyranny of detail, and to teach them to live a simple life on great principles?” “I cannot agree,” said Mr. Cuthbert. “The instinct for reverence, for the reverent and seemly expression of spiritual feeling, for the symbolic representation of spiritual feeling, for the symbolic representation of divine truths is a depreciated one, but a true one; and this instinct He graciously defined, fortified, and consecrated; and I believe that the Church was following the true guidance of the Spirit in the matter, when it slowly built up the grand and massive fabric of Catholic practice and tradition.” “But,” I said, “who are the Church? There are a great many people who feel the exact opposite of what you maintain—and true Christians too.” “They are grievously mistaken,” said Mr. Cuthbert, “and suffer an irreparable loss.” “But who is to decide?” I said, a little nettled. “A General Œcumenical Council would be competent to do so,” said Mr. Cuthbert. “Do you mean of the Anglican Communion?” I said. “Oh dear, no,” said Mr. Cuthbert. “The Anglican Communion indeed! No; such a Council must have representatives of all Churches who have received and maintain the Divine succession.” “But,” said I, “you must know that the thing is impossible. Who could summon such a Council, and who would attend it?” “That is not my business,” said Mr. Cuthbert; “I do not want any such Council. I am sure of my position; it is only you and others who wish to sacrifice the most exquisite part of Christian life who need such a solution. I am content with what I know; and humbly and faithfully I shall attempt as far as I can to follow the dictates of my conscience in the matter to endeavor to bring it home to the consciences of my flock.” I felt I could not carry the argument further without loss of temper; but it was surprising to me how I continued to like, and even to respect, the man.