ompetent to manage his affairs. And yet every Roman Catholic priest
professes to believe a more startling dogma,--even that he is the
creator of God. And yet, instead of calling that insanity, we must, I
suppose, call it religion. Seeing, then, the priests are called every
day to do things which their senses must tell them are juggles, and to
profess their belief in dogmas which their reason must tell them are
monstrous and blasphemous absurdities, is it possible, you ask, that the
priests in Italy can believe in their own system? I must here say, that
I do think the majority of them do believe in it.

A goodly number of the priests of Italy are infidels. They no more
believe in the Pope than they believe in the pagan Jupiter. But then,
were they to speak out their disbelief, and to say that purgatory is a
mere bugbear for frightening men and getting their money, they know that
a dungeon would instantly be their lot; and infidelity has little of the
martyr spirit in it. These men, like Leo the Tenth, as thorough an
infidel as ever lived, hold that it would be the height of folly to
quarrel with a fable that brings them so much gain. Others are mere
worldly men. They were never at the pains to inquire whether their
system is true or false. They sing their mass in the morning; they pass
their forenoons at the cafe, sipping coffee, and taking a hand at
cards; a stoup of wine washes down a substantial dinner; and, after a
saunter along the Corso, or an airing on the Pincian, they doff their
clerical vestments, and go to sup with the nuns, who have the reputation
of being excellent cooks.

Others there are whose minds are occasionally visited by strong
misgivings. The cloud, so to speak, will open for a moment, and reveal
to their astonished sight, not the majestic form of Truth, but a
gigantic and monstrous imposture. A mysterious hand at times lifts the
veil, and lo! they find themselves in the presence, not of a divinity,
but of a demon. They disclose their doubts when they next go to
confession. My son, says the father confessor, these are the suggestions
of the Evil One. You must arm yourself against the Tempter by fasting
and penance. A hair shirt or an iron girdle is called in to silence the
voice of reason and the remonstrances of conscience; and here the matter
ends. And there are a few--in every age there have been a few such--in
the Church of Rome, and at present they are very considerably on the
increase, who, i