made your religion. The
Catholic church, from which the Protestants stole their piecemeal Bible,
always regarded the book of Machabeus as the inspired word of God."

"But, Paul, it is so foolish, this 'half-way house.'"

"Then, miss, you must blame God, who created it, for the folly of his
not consulting with some Protestant philosopher before he created such a
'half way.' For most certainly there was always, since the dawn of
creation, a third place; as, for example, the place where the souls of
the just were confined before Christ, who was the first to ascend into
heaven, as himself says in his gospel. Now, the Bible does not say that
this half way was 'foolish,' or abolished either. Besides, it is but
reasonable that there should be a place to purify the frail and
imperfect soul before admitting her to God's holy presence."

"Where the tree falleth, there it lieth," said she.

"Yes, fallen," said Paul, "it lieth there till it is taken away to
another place. Where the soul falleth,--that is, whether in a state of
grace or in sin,--there it will lie forever; but those who go to
purgatory die in a state of grace, and so their eternal destiny is
heaven--like those just souls who died before Christ; yet they are not
fit for heaven immediately, for 'nothing defiled can enter therein.'"

"You wrote to the priest, didn't you, to say masses for your mother's
soul in purgatory? How do you know she is there?" said Amanda,
unguardedly.

"I hope she is in no worse place," said Paul, the fire kindling in his
dark Celtic eye; "and whether in heaven or in hell,--which God
forbid!--the mass can do no harm, but tend to the honor and glory of
God, and I hope procure me and the celebrant merit. But, Amanda, how do
you know that I wrote any such request to the priest? I know you are
above reading my letters, though I should leave them open under your
eye; but I am afraid that hypocritical-looking postmaster may have kept
my letters, and given them to somebody. In Ireland, that crime deserved
hanging as a punishment; and I do not know what I would do to any body I
would detect in opening my letters, and pilfering my secrets," said he,
raising himself up.

"O, my dear Paul," said the old maid, perceiving her imprudence, "I only
guessed at the contents of your letters. We Yankees are great at
guessing, you know. Be silent; shut up, my good fellow," she added,
going over to the window. "What crowd is that there below on the road?"