you shall not hedge in my Christian charity, and
deprive me of all sympathy for the Pope in this his day of
persecution."

"Whatever the holy father's errors may have been," said L'Isle, "we
may now say of him, a prisoner in France, what was said of Clement the
Seventh, when shut up in the Castle of St. Angelo, '_Papa non potest
errare_.'"

"That is Latin, Moodie," said Lady Mabel, "and to enlighten your
ignorance it may be rendered, 'The Pope cannot err.'"

"Why that is nothing but the doctrine of the Pope's infallibility,"
exclaimed Moodie, indignantly; "and saying it in Latin cannot make it
true." And he dropped behind the party.

Gazing on the number of religious houses and habits around them, Lady
Mabel said: "Monastic life must hold forth strong allurements. The
monks seem to find it easy to recruit their ranks."

"Many motives combine to draw men into the church," L'Isle
answered. "Devotion may be the chief; but, in this climate and
country, the love of ease, and the want of hopeful prospects in
secular life, exercise great influence. Moreover, one monk, like one
soldier, serves as a decoy to another. Did you ever see a recruiting
sergeant, in all his glory, among a party of rustics at a village
alehouse? How skillfully he displays the bright side of a soldier's
life, while hiding every dark spot. The church has many a recruiting
sergeant, who can put the best of ours to shame. Many a recruit, too,
like our young friar, is caught very young."

They had now turned into another street, and L'Isle, stopping the
party, pointed out a large building opposite to them.

"What a curious mixture of styles it presents," said Mrs. Shortridge.

"What a barbarous mutilation of a work of art," exclaimed Lady Mabel.

"This is, or rather was," said L'Isle, "the temple of Diana, built
before the Christian era, perhaps while Sertorius yet lorded it in the
Peninsula, and made Evora his headquarters. The architect," continued
he, looking at it with the eye of a connoisseur, "was doubtless a
Greek. Time, and the mutilations and additions of the Moor, have not
effaced all the beauty of this structure, planned by the genius and
reared by the hands of men who lived nineteen centuries ago. The
rubble work and plaster wall that fills the space between those
columns, so requisite in their proportions--the pinnacles which crown
the structure in place of the entablature which has been destroyed,
are the work of the Moors, who stro