ficulties and troubles everywhere; that there are such in the Church
of England, who would care to deny? that there are equally such, aye, and
far more, in the Church of Rome, who would care to deny, either?
Meanwhile, the Providence of God has set you here and not there. Whatever
your difficulties are here, are not of your choosing; but if you fly
there (and I pray God you will not) there they will be. Be content,
Master Norris; indeed you have a goodly heritage; be content with it;
lest losing that you lose all."

Anthony was greatly touched by this moderate and courteous line that the
Archbishop was taking. He knew well in his heart that the Church of Rome
was, in the eyes of this old man, a false and deceitful body, for whom
there was really nothing to be said. Grindal, in his travels abroad
during the Marian troubles, had been deeply attracted by the Genevan
theology, with whose professors he had never wholly lost touch; and
Anthony guessed what an effort it was costing him, and what a strain it
was on his conscience, thus to combine courtesy with faithfulness to what
he believed to be true.

Grindal apparently feared he had sacrificed his convictions, for he
presently added: "You know, Mr. Norris, that I think very much worse of
Papistry than I have expressed; but I have refrained because I think that
would not help you; and I desire to do that more than to relieve myself."

Anthony thanked him for his gentleness; saying that he quite understood
his motives in speaking as he had done, and was deeply obliged to him for
it.

The Archbishop, however, as indeed were most of the English Divines of
the time, was far more deeply versed in destructive than constructive
theology; and, to Anthony's regret, was presently beginning in that
direction.

"It is beyond my imagination. Mr. Norris," he said, "that any who have
known the simple Gospel should return to the darkness. See here," he went
on, rising, and fumbling among his books, "I have somewhere here what
they call an Indulgence."

He searched for a few minutes, and presently shook out of the leaves of
Jewell's book a paper which he peered at, and then pushed over to
Anthony.

It was a little rectangular paper, some four or five inches long; bearing
a figure of Christ, wounded, with His hands bound together before Him,
and the Cross with the superscription rising behind. In compartments on
either side were instruments of the Passion, the spear, and the reed wit