Clare Avery: A Story of the Spanish Armada

by Emily Sarah Holt

  CHAPTER NINE.

  TOO ABSTRUSE FOR BLANCHE.

  "Hear the just law, the judgment of the skies! He that hates truth shall be the dupe of lies; And he that _will_ be cheated to the last, Delusions strong as Hell shall bind him fast."

  _Cowper_.

  "I did conceive, Mistress Blanche," said Mr Tremayne one morning, asthe party rose from the breakfast-table, "that you would with a goodwill see the picture of Clare's grandsire, the which hangeth in mystudy-chamber?"

  "Oh ay, an' it like you," responded Blanche eagerly.

  Clare had seen the portrait, but not Blanche. Mr Tremayne led the wayto his study, allowed her to examine the likeness at her leisure, andanswered all her questions about John Avery. Entrapped Blanche did notrealise that he was catching her with the same sort of guile which SaintPaul used towards the Corinthians. [2 Corinthians 12, 16] Mrs Tremaynecame in, and sat down quietly with her work, before the inspection wasover. When her curiosity was at length satisfied, Blanche thanked MrTremayne, and would have left the room with a courtesy: but such was byno means the intention of her pastor.

  "I have heard, say, Mistress Blanche," said he quietly, "that your mindhath been somewhat unsettled touching the difference, or the lack ofdifference, betwixt us and the Papists. If so be, pray you sit down,and give us leave to talk the same over."

  Blanche felt caught at last. It must be Sir Thomas, of course, who hadtold the Rector, for there was no one else who could have done it. Andit may be added, though Blanche did not know it, that her father hadspecially begged Mr Tremayne to examine into the matter, and to setBlanche right on any points whereon she might have gone wrong.

  Thus brought to a stand and forced to action, it was Blanche's nature tobehave after the manner of a mule in the same predicament, and to affectstronger contrary convictions than she really felt. It was true, shesaid rather bluntly: she did think there was very little, if any,difference between many doctrines held by the rival Churches.

  "There is all the difference that is betwixt Heaven and earth," answeredMr Tremayne. "Nay, I had well-nigh said, betwixt Heaven and Hell: forI do believe the Devil to have been the perverter of truth with thosecorruptions that are in Papistry. But I pray you, of your gentleness,to tell me of one matter wherein, as you account, no difference lieth?"

  With what power of intellect she had--which was not much--Blanchementally ran over the list, and selected the item on which she thoughtMr Tremayne would find least to say.

  "It seemeth me you be too rude [harsh, severe] to charge the Papistswith idolatry," she said. "They be no more idolaters than we."

  "No be they? How so, I pray you?"

  "Why, the images in their churches be but for the teaching of such ascannot read, nor do they any worship unto the image, but only unto himthat is signified thereby. Moreover, they pray not unto the saints, asyou would have it; they do but ask the saints' prayers for them. SurelyI may ask my father to pray for me, and you would not say that I prayedunto him!"

  "I pray you, pull bridle there, Mistress Blanche," said Mr Tremayne,smiling; "for you have raised already four weighty points, the which maynot be expounded in a moment. I take them, an' it like you, not justlyin your order, but rather in the order wherein they do affect eachother. And first, under your good pleasure,--what is prayer?"

  Blanche was about to reply at once, when it struck her that the questioninvolved more than she supposed. She would have answered,--"Why, sayingmy prayers:" but the idea came to her, _Was_ that prayer? And she feltinstinctively that, necessarily, it was not. She thought a moment, andthen answered slowly;--

  "I would say that it is to ask somewhat with full desire to obtain thesame."

  "Is that all?" replied Mr Tremayne.

  Blanche thought so.

  "Methinks there is more therein than so. For it implieth, beyond this,full belief that he whom you shall ask,--firstly, can hear you;secondly, is able to grant you; thirdly, is willing to grant you."

  "Surely the saints be willing to pray for us!"

  "How know you they can hear us?"

  Blanche thought, and thought, and could find no reason for supposing it.

  "Again, how know you they can grant us?"

  "But they pray!"

  "They praise, and they hold communion: I know not whether they offerpetitions or no."

  Blanche sat meditating.

  "You see, therefore, there is no certainty on the first and most weightyof all these points. We know not that any saint can hear us. But passthat--grant, for our talk's sake, that they have knowledge of whatpasseth on earth, and can hear when we do speak to them. How then?Here is Saint Mary, our Lord's mother, sitting in Heaven; and upon earththere be petitions a-coming up unto her, at one time, from Loretto inItaly, and from Nuremburg in Germany, and from Seville in Spain, andfrom Bruges in Flanders, and from Paris in France, and from Bideford inDevon, and from Kirkham in Lancashire. Mistress Blanche, if she canhear and make distinction betwixt all these at the self-same moment,then is she no woman like to you. Your brain should be mazed with thedin, and spent with the labour. Invocation declareth omnipotency. Andthere is none almighty save One,--that is, God."

  "But," urged Blanche, "the body may be one whither, and the spiritanother. And Saint Mary is a spirit."

  "Truly so. Yet the spirit can scantly be in ten places at one time--howmuch less a thousand?"

  Blanche was silent.

  "The next thing, I take it, is that they pray not unto the saints, butdo ask the saints only to pray for them. If the saints hear them not,the one is as futile as the other. But I deny that they do not prayunto the saints."

  Mr Tremayne went to his bookcase, and came back with a volume in hishand.

  "Listen here, I pray you--`Blessed Virgin, Mother of God, and after Himmine only hope, pray for me, and guard me during this night'--`Give mepower to fight against thine enemies'--`Great God, who by theresurrection of Thy Son Jesus Christ hast rejoiced the world, we prayThee, grant that by His blessed mother the Virgin Mary we may obtain thebliss of eternal life'--`Make mine heart to burn with love for JesusChrist,--make me to feel the death of Jesus Christ in mine heart,--causeto be given unto us the joys of Paradise--O Jesu! O Mary! cause me tobe truly troubled for my sins.' These, Mistress Blanche, be from thebook that is the Common Prayer of the Papistical Church: and all thesewords be spoken unto Mary. As you well see, I cast no doubt, they doascribe unto her divinity. For none can effectually work upon man'sheart--save the Holy Ghost only. None other can cause his heart to be`truly troubled for sin;' none other can make his heart to burn. Nowwhat think you of this, Mistress Blanche? Is it praying unto thesaints, or no?"

  What Blanche thought, she did not say; but if it could be guessed fromthe expression of her face, she was both shocked and astonished.

  "Now come we to the third point: to wit, that images be as pictures forthe teaching of such as have no learning. Methinks, Mistress Blanche,that God is like to be wiser than all men. There must needs have beenmany Israelites in the wilderness that had no learning: yet His commandunto them, as unto us, is, `Ye shall not make unto you _any_ gravenimage.' I take it that the small good that might thereby be done(supposing any such to be) should be utterly overborne of the companyingevil. Moreover, when you do learn the vulgar, you would, I hope, learnthem that which is true. Is it true, I pray you, that Mary was borneinto Heaven of angels, like as Christ did Himself ascend?--or that beingthus carried thither, she was crowned of God, as a queen? Dear maid, wehave the Master's word touching all such, pourtrayments. `The gravenimages of _their_ gods shall ye burn with fire.--Thou shalt utterlydetest it, and thou shalt utterly abhor it; for it is a cursed thing.'"[Deuteronomy twelve, verses 25, 26.]

  "O Mr Tremayne!" said Blanche, with a horrified look. "You wouldsurely ne'er call a picture or an image of our Lord's own mother a thingaccursed?"

  "But I would, my maid," he answered very gravely, "that instant momentthat there should be given thereunto
the honour and worship and glorythat be only due to Him. `My glory will I not give to another, neitherMy praise to graven images.' Nay, I would call an image of ChristHimself a thing accursed, if it stood in His place in the hearts of men.Mark you, King Hezekiah utterly destroyed the serpent of brass that wasGod's own appointed likeness of Christ, that moment that the children ofIsrael did begin to burn incense unto it, thereby making it an idol."

  "But in the Papistical Church they be no idols, Master Tremayne!"interposed Blanche eagerly. "Therein lieth the difference betwixtPopery and Paganism."

  "What should you say, Mistress Blanche, if you wist that therein lieth_no_ difference betwixt Popery and Paganism? The old Pagans were wontto say the same thing. [Note 1.] They should have laughed in your faceif you had charged them with worshipping wood and stone, and haveanswered that they worshipped only the thing signified. So much is itthus, that amongst some Pagan nations, they do hold that their godcometh down in his proper person into the image for a season (like asthe Papists into the wafer of the sacrament), and when they account himgone, they cast the image away as no more worth. Yet hark you how GodHimself accounteth of this their worship. `He maketh a god, even hisgraven image: he falleth down unto IT, and worshippeth IT, and prayethunto IT, and saith, Deliver me, for thou art my god.' And list also howHe expoundeth the same:--`A deceived heart hath turned him aside, thathe cannot deliver his soul, nor say, Is there not a lie in my righthand?' [Isaiah 44, verses 17, 20.] There should be little idolatry inthis world if there were no deceived hearts."

  Blanche twisted her handkerchief about, in the manner of a person who isdetermined not to be convinced, yet can find nothing to say in answer.

  "Tell me, Mistress Blanche,--for I think too well of your good sense todoubt the same,--you cannot believe that Christ Himself is in a piece ofbread?"

  In her inmost heart she certainly believed no such thing. But it wouldnever do to retreat from her position. In Blanche's eyes, disgrace laynot in being mistaken, but in being shown the mistake.

  "Wherefore may it not be so?" she murmured. "'Tis matter of faith, inlike manner as is our Lord's resurrection."

  "In like manner? I cry you mercy. You believe the resurrection on thewitness of them that knew it--that saw the sepulchre void; that sawChrist, and spake with Him, and did eat and drink with Him, and knew Himto be the very same Jesus that had died. You can bear no witness eitherway, for you were not there. But in this matter of the bread, here areyou; and you see it for yourself not to be as you be told. Your eyestell you that they behold bread; your hands tell you that they handlebread; your tongue tells you that it tasteth bread. The witness of yoursenses is in question: and these three do agree that the matter is breadonly."

  "The senses may be deceived, I reckon?"

  "The senses may be deceived; and, as meseemeth, after two fashions:firstly, when the senses themselves be not in full healthfulness andvigour. Thus, if a man have some malady in his eyes, that he knowhimself to see things mistakenly, from the relation of other around him,then may he doubt what his eyes see with regard to this matter.Secondly, a man must not lean on his senses touching matters that comenot within the discerning of sense. Now in regard to this bread, thePapists do overreach themselves. Did they but tell us that the changemade was mystical and of faith,--not within the discernment of sense--wemight then find it harder work to deal withal, and we must seek unto theWord of God only, and not unto our sense in any wise. But they gofarther: they tell us the change is such, that there is _no more thesubstance of bread left at all_. [Note 2.] This therefore is matterwithin the discerning of sense. If it be thus, then this change isneeds one that I can see, can taste, can handle. I know, at my owntable, whether I eat flesh or bread; how then should I be unable to knowthe same at the table of the Lord? Make it matter of sense, and I mustneeds submit it to the judgment of my senses. But now to take the othermatter,--to wit, of faith. Christ said unto the Jews, `The bread whichI will give is My flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.'They took Him right as the Papists do. They `strave among themselves,saying, How shall this man give us his flesh to eat?' Now mark you ourLord's answer. Doth He say, `Ye do ill to question this matter; 'tis amystery of the Church; try it not by sense, but believe?' Nay, Heopeneth the door somewhat wider, and letteth in another ray of lightupon the signification of His words. He saith to them,--`Except ye eatthe flesh of the Son of Man, and drink His blood, ye have _no life_ inyou.' I pray you, what manner of life? Surely not the common life ofnature, for that may be sustained by other food. The life, then, is aspiritual life; and how shall spiritual life be sustained by naturalmeat? The meat must be spiritual, if the life be so. Again Hesaith,--`He that eateth My flesh, and drinketh My blood, dwelleth in Me,and I in him.' Now, if the eating be after a literal manner, so alsomust be the dwelling. Our bodies, therefore, must be withinside thebody of Christ in Heaven, and His body must be withinside every one ofours on earth. That this is impossible and ridiculous alike, I need notto tell you. Mistress Blanche, faith is not to believe whatsoever anyshall tell you. It is less to believe a thing than to trust a man. AndI can only trust a man on due testimony that he is worthy trust."

  "But this is to trust Christ our Lord," said Blanche.

  "Ay so, my maid? Or is it rather to trust our own fantasy of whatChrist would say?"

  Blanche was silent for a moment; then she answered,--"But He did say,`This is My body.'"

  "Will you go further, an' it like you?"

  "How, Master Tremayne?"

  "`This is My body, which is broken for you.' Was the bread that He heldin His hand the body that was broken? Did that morsel of bread takeaway the sin of the world? Look you, right in so far as the bread wasthe body, in so far also was the breaking of that bread the death ofthat body,--and no further. Now, Mistress Blanche, was the breaking ofthe bread the death of the body? Think thereon, and answer me."

  "It was an emblem or representation thereof, no doubt," she said slowly.

  "Good. Then, inasmuch as the breaking did set forth the death, in somuch did the bread set forth the body. If the one be an emblem, so mustbe the other."

  "That may be, perchance," said Blanche, sheering off from the subject,as she found it passing beyond her, and requiring the troublesome effortof thought: "but, Master Tremayne, there is one other matter whereon thespeech of you Gospellers verily offendeth me no little."

  "Pray you, tell me what it is, Mistress Blanche."

  "It is the little honour, or I might well say the dishonour, that you doput upon Saint Mary the blessed Virgin. Surely, of all that He knew andloved on this earth, she must have been the dearest unto our Lord. Whythen thus scrimp and scant the reverence due unto her? Verily, in thismatter, the Papists do more meetly than you."

  "`More meetly'--wherewith, Mistress Blanche? With the truth of HolyScripture, or with the fantasies of human nature?"

  "I would say," repeated Blanche rather warmly, "that her honour must bevery dear to her blessed Son."

  "There is one honour ten thousand-fold dearer unto His heart, my maid,and that is the honour of God His eternal Father. All honour, thattoucheth not this, I am ready to pay to her. But tell me wherefore youthink she must be His dearest?"

  "Because it must needs be thus," replied illogical Blanche.

  "I would ask you to remember, Mistress Blanche, that He hath told us theclean contrary."

  Blanche looked up with an astonished expression.

  "`Whosoever shall do the will of My Father which is in Heaven, the sameis My brother, and sister, and mother.' Equally honourable, equallydear, with that mother of His flesh whom you would fain upraise aboveall other women. And I am likewise disposed to think that word ofPaul,--`Yea, though we have known Christ after the flesh, yet nowhenceforth know we Him no more'--I say, I am disposed to think this mayhave his reverse side. Though He hath known us after the flesh, yetthus, now that He is exalted to the right hand of God, He knoweth us nomore. And i
f so, then Mary is now unto Him but one of a multitude ofsaved souls, all equally fair and dear and precious in the eyes of Himthat died for them."

  "O Master Tremayne!"

  "What would you say, Mistress Blanche?"

  "That is truly--it sounds so cold!" said Blanche, disparagingly.

  "Doth it so?" asked the Rector, smiling. "Cold, that all should bebeloved of His heart? Dear maid, 'tis not that He loveth her the less,but that He loveth the other more."

  As Blanche made no response, Mr Tremayne went on.

  "There is another side to this matter, Mistress Blanche, that I daresayyou have ne'er looked upon: and it toucheth at once the matter ofimages, and the reverence due unto Saint Mary. Know you that great partof the images held in worship for her by the Papists, be no images ofher at all? All the most ancient--and many be very ancient--were ne'ermade for Mary. The marvel-working black Virgins--our Lady ofEinsiedeln, our Lady of Loretto, and all such--be in very truth oldidols, of a certain Tuscan or Etruscan goddess, elder than the days ofthe Romans. [Note 3.] Again, all they that are of fair complexion--suchas have grey eyes [blue eyes were then called grey] and yellow hair--these be not Mary the Jewess. We can cast no doubt she was dark.Whence then come all these fair-complexioned pictures? We might takeit, in all likelihood, from the fancy of the painters, that did accounta fair woman to be of better favour than a dark. But search you intopast history, and you shall find it not thus. These fair-favouredpictures be all of another than Mary; to wit, of that ancient goddess,in her original of the Babylonians, that was worshipped under diversnames all over the world,--in Egypt as Isis; in Greece, as Athene,Artemis, and Aphrodite; in Rome as Juno, Diana, and Venus: truly, everygoddess was but a diversity of this one. [Note 4.] These, then, be nopictures of the Maid of Nazareth. And 'tis the like of other images,--they be christened idols. The famed Saint Peter, in his church at Romeis but a christened Jupiter. Wit you how Paganism was got rid of? Itwas by receiving of it into the very bosom of the Roman Church. Theceremonies of the Pagans were but turned,--from Ceres, Cybele, Isis, orAphrodite, unto Mary--from Apollo, Bacchus, Osiris, Tammuz, unto Christ.Thus, when these Pagans found that they did in very deed worship thesame god, and with the same observances, as of old--for the change wasin nothing save the name only--they became Christians by handfuls;--yea,by cityfuls. What marvel, I pray you? But how shall we call thisChurch of Rome, that thus bewrayed her trust, and sold her Lord againlike Judas? An idolatrous Christianity--nay, rather a baptisedidolatry! God hath writ her name, Mistress Blanche, on the last page ofHis Word; and it is, Babylon, Mother of all Abominations."

  "I do marvel, Master Tremayne," said Blanche a little indignantly,though in a constrained voice, "how you dare bring such ill chargesagainst the Papistical Church. Do they not set great store by holiness,I pray you? Yea, have they not monks and nuns, and a celibatepriesthood, consecrate to greater holiness than other? How can youcharge them with wickedness and abomination?"

  "Poor child!" murmured the Rector, as if to himself,--"she little wistwhat manner of life idolaters term holiness! Mistress Blanche, yondercloak of professed holiness hideth worser matter than you can so much asthink on. 'Tis not I that set that name on the Papistical Church. Itwas God Himself. Will you tell me, moreover, an' it like you,--What isholiness?"

  "Goodness--right-doing."

  "Those be unclear words, methinks. They may mean well-nigh aught. Forme, I would say, Holiness is walking with God, and according to the willof God."

  "Well! Is not God pleased with the doing of good?"

  "God is pleased with nothing but Christ. He is not pleased with youbecause of your deeds. He must first accept _you_, and that not for anyyour deserving, but for the sake of the alone merits of His Son; andthen He shall be pleased with your deeds, since they shall be such asHis Spirit shall work in you. But nothing can please God except thatwhich cometh from God. Your works, apart from Him, be dead works. Andyou cannot serve the living God with dead works."

  Blanche's half-unconscious shrug of the shoulders conveyed theinformation that this doctrine was not agreeable to her.

  "Surely God will be pleased with us if we do out best!" she muttered.

  "By no means," said Mr Tremayne quietly. "Your best is not good enoughfor God. He likeneth that best of yours to filthy rags. What shouldyou say to one that brought you a present of filthy rags, so foul thatyou could not so much as touch them?"

  Blanche, who was extremely dainty as to what she touched, quiteappreciated this simile. She found an answer, nevertheless.

  "God is merciful, Mr Tremayne. You picture Him as hard and unpitiful."

  "Verily, Mistress Blanche, God is merciful: more than you nor I mayconceive. But God hath no mercies outside of Christ. Come to Himbringing aught in your hand save Christ, and He hath nought to say toyou. And be you ware that you cannot come and bring nothing. If youbring not Christ, assuredly you shall bring somewhat else,--your ownworks, or your own sufferings, or in some manner your own deservings.And for him that cometh with his own demerits in hand, God hath noughtsaving the one thing he hath indeed demerited,--which is--Hell."

  Mr Tremayne spoke so solemnly that Blanche felt awed. But she did notrelish the doctrine which he preached any better on that account.

  "How have I demerited that?" she asked.

  "God Himself shall answer you. `He that hath not the Son of God hathnot life.' `He that believeth not is condemned already.'"

  "But I do believe--all Christians believe!" urged Blanche.

  "What believe you?"

  "I believe unfeignedly all that the creed saith touching our Lord."

  "And I believe as unfeignedly all that the Commentaries of Caesar saytouching that same Julius Caesar."

  "What mean you, Master Tremayne?"

  "What did Julius Caesar for me, Mistress Blanche?"

  "Marry, nought at all," said Blanche, laughing, "without his invading ofEngland should have procured unto us some civility which else we hadlacked."

  Civility, at that time, meant civilisation. When, according to thewondrous dreamer of Bedford Gaol, Mr Worldly Wiseman referredChristian, if he should not find Mr Legality at home, to the prettyyoung man called Civility, whom he had to his son, and who could takeoff a burden as well as the old gentleman himself,--he meant, not whatwe call civility, but what we call civilisation. That pretty young manis at present the most popular physician of the day; and he still goesto the town of Morality to church. The road to his house is crowdedmore than ever, though the warning has been standing for two hundredyears, that "notwithstanding his simpering looks, he is but ahypocrite,"--as well as another warning far older,--"Behold, the fear ofthe Lord, that is wisdom." [Job twenty-eight verse 28.]

  "But now," said the Rector, with an answering smile, "tell me, what didJesus Christ for me?"

  "He is the Saviour," she said in a low voice.

  "Of whom, dear maid?"

  Blanche felt rather vague on that point, and the feeling was combinedwith a conviction that she ought not to be so. She tried to give ananswer which could not be contradicted.

  "Of them that believe."

  "Certes," said Mr Tremayne, suppressing a smile, for he saw bothBlanche's difficulty and her attempt to evade it. "But that, look you,landeth us on the self place where we were at aforetime: who be theythat believe?"

  Blanche wisely determined to commit herself no further.

  "Would it please you to tell me, Sir?"

  "Dear child, if you heard me to say, touching some man that we both wereacquaint withal,--`I believe in John'--what should you conceive that Idid signify?"

  "I would account," said Blanche readily, thinking this question easy toanswer, "that you did mean, `I account of him as a true man; I trusthim; I hold him well worthy of affiance.'"

  "Good. And if, after thus saying, you should see me loth to trust anhalf-angel into his hands to spend for me,--should you think that mineact did go with my words, or no?"

&nbs
p; "Assuredly, nay."

  "Then look you, Mistress Blanche, that it is greater matter than youmaybe made account, when a man shall say, `I believe in Jesus Christ.'For it signifieth not only that I believe He was born, and lived, andsuffered, and arose, and ascended. Nay, but it is, I account of Him asa true man; I trust Him, with body and soul, with friends and goods: Ihold Him worthy of all affiance, and I will hold back nothing, neithermyself nor my having, from His keeping and disposing. (Ah, my maid!which of us can say so much as this, at all times, and of all matters?)But above all, in the relation whereof we have spoken, it is to say, Itrust Christ with my soul. I lean it wholly upon Him. I have no hopein myself; He is mine hope. I have no righteousness of myself; He is myrighteousness. I have no standing before God,--I demerit nought buthell; but Christ standeth before God for me: His blood hath washed meclean from all sin, and His pleading with God availeth to hold me up inHis ways. And unless or until you can from your heart thus speak I prayyou say not again that you believe in Jesus Christ."

  "But, Master, every man cannot thus believe."

  "No man can thus believe until God have taught him."

  Blanche thought, but was not bold enough to say, that she did not seewhy anybody should believe such disagreeable things about himself. Shedid not feel this low opinion of her own merits. Hers was the naturalreligion of professing Christians--that she must do the best she could,and Christ would make up the remainder. Mr Tremayne knew what waspassing in her mind as well as if she had spoken it.

  "You think that is hard?" said he.

  "_I_ think it--Mr Tremayne, I could not thus account of myself."

  "You could not, dear maid. I am assured of that."

  "Then wherein lieth my fault?" demanded Blanche.

  "In that you will not."

  Blanche felt stung; and she spoke out now, with one of those bursts ofconfidence which came from her now and then.

  "That is sooth, Master. I will not. I have not committed such sins ashave many men and women. I ne'er stole, nor murdered, nor used profaneswearing, nor worshipped idols, nor did many another ill matter: and Icannot believe but that God shall be more merciful to such than to theevil fawtors [factors, doers] that be in the world. Where were Hisjustice, if no?"

  "Mistress Blanche, you wit neither what is God, neither what is sin.The pure and holy law of God is like to a golden ring. You account,that because you have not broken it on this side, nor on that side, youhave not broken it at all. But if you break it on any side, it isbroken; and you it is that have broken it."

  "Wherein have I broken it?" she asked defiantly.

  "`All unrighteousness is sin.' Have you alway done rightly, all yourlife long? If not, then you are a sinner."

  "Oh, of course, we be all sinners," said Blanche, as if that were a veryslight admission.

  "Good. And a sinner is a condemned criminal. He is not come into thisworld to see if he may perchance do well, and stand: he is alreadyfallen; he is already under condemnation of law."

  "Then 'tis even as I said,--there is no fault in any of us," maintainedBlanche, sturdily clinging to her point.

  "`This is the condemnation, that light is come into the world, and menloved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil.'"

  "Nay, Master Tremayne, you be now too hard on me. I love not darknessrather than light."

  "God saith you so do, dear maid. And He knoweth--ay, better thanyourself. But look not only on that side of the matter. If a manbelieve that and no more, 'tis fit to drive him unto desperation. Lookup unto the writing which is over the gate into God's narrow way--thegate and the way likewise being His Son Jesus Christ--and read Hismessage of peace sent unto these sinners. `Whosoever will, let him takethe water of life freely.' It is God's ordering, that whosoever _will_,he can."

  "You said but this last Sunday, Master Tremayne, that 'twas not possiblefor any man to come to Christ without God did draw him thereto."

  "_I_ said, my maid? My Master it was which said that. Well--what so?"

  "Then we can have nought to answer for; for without God do draw us, wecannot come."

  "And without we be willing to be thus drawn, God will not do it."

  "Nay, but you said, moreover, that the very will must come from God."

  "Therein I spake truth."

  Blanche thought she had now driven her pastor into a corner.

  "Then you do allow," she asked triumphantly, "that if I should not willthe same, I am clean of all fault, sith the very will must needs comefrom God?"

  Mr Tremayne understood the drift of his catechumen.

  "An' it like you, Mistress Blanche, we will leave a moment to makeinquiry into that point, till we shall have settled another, of moreimport to you and me."

  "What is it, Master?"

  "Are you willing?"

  "Willing that I should be saved eternally? Most assuredly."

  "Then--willing that all the will of God shall be done, in you and byyou?"

  "The one followeth not the other."

  "I cry you mercy. The King of kings, like other princes, dealeth withHis rebels on his own terms."

  Blanche was silent, and, very uncomfortable.

  "'Tis time for me to be about my duties. When you shall have fullysettled that point of your willingness, Mistress Blanche, and shall havedetermined that you are thus willing--which God grant!--then, an' itlike you, we will go into the other matter."

  And Mr Tremayne left the room with a bow, very well knowing that assoon as the first point was satisfactorily settled, the second would beleft quiescent.

  Mrs Tremayne had never opened her lips; and leaving her in the study,Blanche wandered into the parlour, where Clare and Lysken were seated atwork.

  "I marvel what Master Tremayne would have!" said Blanche, sitting downin the window, and idly pulling the dead leaves from the plant whichstood there. "He saith 'tis our own fault that we will not to be saved,and yet in the self breath he addeth that the will so to be must needsbe given us of God."

  Lysken looked up.

  "Methinks we are all willing enow to be saved from punishment," shesaid. "What we be unwilling to be saved from is sin."

  "`Sin'--alway sin!" muttered Blanche. "Ye be both of a story. Sin iswickedness. I am not wicked."

  "Sin is the disobeying of God," replied Lysken. "And saving thypresence, Blanche, thou art wicked."

  "Then so art thou!" retorted Blanche.

  "So I am," said Lysken. "But I am willing to be saved therefrom."

  "Prithee, Mistress Elizabeth Barnevelt, from what sin am I not willingto be saved?"

  "Dost truly wish to know?" asked Lysken in her coolest manner.

  "Certes!"

  "Then--pride."

  "Pride is no sin!"

  "I love not gainsaying, Blanche. But I dare in no wise gainsay theLord. And He saith of pride, that it is an abomination unto Him, and Hehateth it." [Proverbs six, verse 16; and sixteen verse 5.]

  "But that is ill and sinful pride," urged Blanche. "There is properpride."

  "It seemeth to my poor wits," said Lysken, "that a thing which the Lordhateth must be all of it improper."

  "Why, Lysken! Thus saying, thou shouldst condemn all high spirit andnoble bearing!"

  "`Blessed are the poor in spirit.' There was no pride in Christ,Blanche. And thou wilt scarce say that He bare Him not nobly."

  "Why, then, we might as well all be peasants!"

  "I suppose we might, if we were," said Lysken.

  "Lysken, it should be a right strange world, where thou hadst thegovernance!"

  "Very like," was Lysken's calm rejoinder, as she set the pin a littlefurther in her seam.

  "What good is it, prithee, to set thee up against all men's opinion?[What are now termed `views' were then called `opinions.'] Thou shaltbut win scorn for thine."

  "Were it only mine, Blanche, it should be to no good. But when it isGod's command wherewith mine opinion runneth,--why then, the good shallbe to h
ear Christ say, `Well done, faithful servant.' The scorn I barehere shall be light weight then."

  "But wherefore not go smoothly through the world?"

  "Because it should cost too much."

  "Nay, what now?" remonstrated Blanche.

  "I have two lives, Blanche: and I cannot have my best things in both.The one is short and passing; the other is unchangeable, and shall standfor ever. Now then, I would like my treasures for the second of thesetwo lives: and if I miss any good thing in the first, it shall be nogreat matter."

  "Thou art a right Puritan!" said Blanche disgustedly.

  "Call not names, Blanche," gently interposed Clare.

  "Dear Clare, it makes he difference," said Lysken. "If any call me aPapist, 'twill not make me one."

  "Lysken Barnevelt, is there aught in this world would move thee?"

  "`In this world?' Well, but little, methinks. But--there will be somethings in the other."

  "What things?" bluntly demanded Blanche.

  "To see His Face!" said Lysken, the light breaking over her own. "Andto hear Him say, `Come!' And to sit down at the marriage-supper of theLamb,--with the outer door closed for ever, and the woes, and thewolves, and the winter, all left on the outside. If none of theseearthly things move me, Blanche, it is because those heavenly thingswill."

  And after that, Blanche was silent.

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  Note 1. The Gentiles (saith Saint Augustine), which seem to be of thepurer religion, say, We worship not the images, but by the corporalimage we do behold the signs of the things which we ought to worship.And Lactantius saith, The Gentiles say, We fear not the images, but themafter whose likeness the images be made, and to whose names they beconsecrated. And Clemens saith, That serpent the Devil uttereth thesewords by the mouth of certain men: We, to the honour of the invisibleGod, worship visible images.--(Third Part of the Homily on Peril ofIdolatry: references in margin to Augustine Ps. 135; Lactantius l. 2.Inst.; Clem., L. S ad Jacob.) Here are the "Fathers" condemning asPagan the reasoning of modern Papists.

  Note 2. "Credit et defendit que in eucharistia sive altaris sacramentoverum et naturalem Christi corpus ac verus et naturalis Christi sanguissub speciebus panis et vini vere non est; et quod _ibi est materialispanis et materiale vinum_ tantum absque veritati et presentia corporiset sanguinis Christi."--Indictment of Reverend Lawrence Saunders,January 30, 1555; Harl. MS. 421, folio 44.

  "Tenes et defendes in prout quod in eucharistia sive sacramento altarisverum naturalem et realem Christi corpus ac verus naturalis et realisChristi sanguis sub speciebus panis et vini vere non est, sed _postconsecratione remanet substantia panis et vini_."--Indictment ofReverend Thomas Rose, May 31, 1555; Harl. MS. 421, folio 188.

  Note 3. There is the initial M on the pedestal of one or more of theseblack Virgins, which of course the priests interpret as Mary. This iscertainly not the case. It has been suggested that it stands for Maia,a name of the Tuscan goddess. May it not be the initial of Mylitta,"the Mediatrix," one of the favourite names of the great originalgoddess?

  Note 4. See Hislop's _Two Babylons_, pages 22, 122, 491, et aliis; andShepheard's _Traditions of Eden_, page 117, note (where many referencesare given), and page 188.