rself a Catholic, and
tells the poor Frenchmen that it is the old religion here still: and your
bishops, or one or two of them rather, like Cheyney, I suppose, say so
too--then I am rendered dumb--(if that were possible). If it is the same,
then why, a-God's name, were the altars dragged down, and the screens
burned, and the vestments and the images and the stoups and the pictures
and the ornaments, all swept out? Why, a-God's name, was the old mass
blotted out and this new mingle-mangle brought in, if it be all one? And
for the last time, a-God's name, why is it death to say mass now, if it
be all one? Go, go: Such talk is foolishness, and worse."

Mr. Buxton was silent for a moment as Anthony eyed him; and then burst
out again.

"Ah! but worse than all are the folks that stand with one leg on either
stool. We are the old Church, say they;--standing with the Protestant leg
in the air,--therefore let us have the money and the buildings: they are
our right. And then when a poor Catholic says, Then let us have the old
mass, and the old penance and the old images: Nay, nay, nay, they say,
lifting up the Catholic leg and standing on the other, those are Popery;
and we are Protestants; we have made away with all such mummery and
muniments of superstition. And so they go see-sawing to and fro. When you
run at one leg they rest them on the other, and you know not where to
take them."

And so the talk went on. When the evening was over, and Anthony was
rising to return to Lambeth, Mr. Buxton put his hand on his arm.

"Good Mr. Norris," he said, "you have been very patient with me. I have
clacked this night like an old wife, and you have borne with me: and now
I ask your pardon again. But I do pray God that He may show you light and
bring you to the true Church; for there is no rest elsewhere."

Anthony thanked him for his good wishes.

"Indeed," he said, too, "I am grateful for all that you have said. You
have shown me light, I think, on some things, and I ask your prayers."

"I go to Stanfield to-morrow," said Mr. Buxton; "it is a pleasant house,
though its master says so, not far from Sir Philip Sidney's: if you would
but come and see me there!"

"I am getting greatly perplexed," said Anthony, "and I think that in good
faith I cannot stay long with the Archbishop; and if I leave him how
gladly will I come to you for a few days; but it must not be till then."

"Ah! if you would but make the Spiritual Exercises in my h