He spoke as it were to himself with the air of one inspired; he had almost forgotten the presence of Lady Kingswood, who was gazing at him in a rapture of attention.
"Oh, if I could only think as you do!" she said, in a low tone--"Is it truly the Catholic Church that teaches these things?"
"The Catholic Church is the sign and watchword of all these things!" he answered--"Not only that, but its sacred symbols, though ancient enough to have been adopted from Babylonia and Chaldea, are actually the symbols of our most modern science. Catholicism itself does not as yet recognise this. Like a blind child stumbling towards the light it has FELT the discoveries of science long before discovery. In our sacraments there are the hints of the transmutation of elements,--the 'Sanctus' bell suggests wireless telegraphy or telepathy, that is to say, communication between ourselves and the divine Unseen,--and if we are permitted to go deeper, we shall unravel the mystery of that 'rising from the dead' which means renewed life. I am a 'prejudiced' priest, of course,"--and he smiled, gravely--"but with all its mistakes, errors, crimes (if you will) that it is answerable for since its institution, through the sins of unworthy servants, Catholicism is the only creed with the true seed of spiritual life within it--the only creed left standing on a firm foundation in this shaking world!"
He uttered these words with passionate eloquence and added-"There are only three things that can make a nation great,--the love of God, the truth of man, the purity of woman. Without these three the greatest civilisation existing must perish,--no matter how wide its power or how vast its wealth. Ignorant or vulgar persons may sneer at this as 'the obvious'--but it is the 'obvious' sun alone that rules the day."
Lady Kingswood's lips trembled; there were tears in her eyes.
"How truly you speak!" she murmured--"And yet we live in a time when such truths appear to have no influence with people at all. Every one is bent on pleasure--on self--"
"As every one was in the 'Cities of the Plain,'"--he said, "and we may well expect another rain of fire!"
Here, lifting his eyes, he saw in the soft blush rose of the approaching sunset a small object like a white bird flying homeward across the sea.
"Here it comes!" he exclaimed--"Not the rain of fire, but something more agreeable! I told you, did I not, miladi, that there was no danger? See!"