t men from it; and the very
reason why it's a lost cause, and popery, and Antichrist, and the
gates of hell are coming in like a flood to prevail against it!'

'Well,' thought Lancelot, 'that is the very strangest reason for
it's being a lost cause! Perhaps if my poor uncle believed it
really to be the cause of God Himself, he would not be in such
extreme fear for it, or fancy it required such a hotbed and
greenhouse culture. . . . Really, if his sisters were little girls
of ten years old, who looked up to him as an oracle, there would be
some reason in it. . . . But those tall, ball-going, flirting,
self-satisfied cousins of mine--who would have been glad enough,
either of them, two months ago, to snap up me, infidelity, bad
character, and all, as a charming rich young roue--if they have not
learnt enough Protestantism in the last five-and-twenty years to
take care of themselves, Protestantism must have very few
allurements, or else be very badly carried out in practice by those
who talk loudest in favour of it. . . . I heard them praising
O'Blareaway's "ministry," by the bye, the other day. So he is up in
town at last--at the summit of his ambition. Well, he may suit
them. I wonder how many young creatures like Argemone and Luke he
would keep from Popery!'

But there was no use arguing with a man in such a state of mind; and
gradually Lancelot gave it up, in hopes that time would bring the
good man to his sane wits again, and that a father's feelings would
prove themselves stronger, because more divine, than a so-called
Protestant's fears, though that would have been, in the banker's
eyes, and in the Jesuit's also--so do extremes meet--the very reason
for expecting them to be the weaker; for it is the rule with all
bigots, that the right cause is always a lost cause, and therefore
requires--God's weapons of love, truth, and reason being well known
to be too weak--to be defended, if it is to be saved, with the
devil's weapons of bad logic, spite, and calumny.

At last, in despair of obtaining tidings of his cousin by any other
method, Lancelot made up his mind to apply to a certain remarkable
man, whose 'conversion' had preceded Luke's about a year, and had,
indeed, mainly caused it.

He went, . . . and was not disappointed. With the most winning
courtesy and sweetness, his story and his request were patiently
listened to.

'The outcome of your speech, then, my dear sir,