XXI.

Gherardi sat for two or three minutes in absolute silence. Only the

twitching of his eyelids and a slight throbbing in the muscles of his

throat showed with what difficulty he suppressed his rising fury. But

his astute and crafty powers of reasoning taught him that it would be

worse than ridiculous to give way to anger in the presence of this

cool, determined man, who, though he spoke with a passion which from

its very force seemed almost to sound like "the mighty wind" which

accompanied the cloven tongues of fire at the first Pentecost, still

maintained his personal calm,--that immovable calmness which is always

the result of strong inward conviction. A dangerous man!--yes, there

was no doubt of that! He was one of those concerning whom Emerson

wrote, "let the world beware when a Thinker comes into it." Aubrey

Leigh was a thinker,--and more than that, he was a doer. He was of the

strong heroic type of genius that turns its dreams into facts, its

thoughts into deeds. He did not talk, in common with so many men, of

what they considered OUGHT to be done, without exerting themselves to

DO it;--he was sincerely in earnest, and cared nothing for any personal

loss or inconvenience he might suffer from carrying out his intentions.

And Gherardi saw that there was little or no possibility of moving such

a man from the firm ground of truth which he had elected to stand on.

There is nothing so inconvenient in this world as an absolutely

truthful person, who can both speak and write, and has the courage of

his convictions. One can always arrange matters with liars, because

they, being hampered by their own deceits, are compelled to study ways,

means, and chances for appearing honest. But with the man or woman who

holds truth dearer than life, and honour more valuable than

advancement, there is nothing to be done, now that governments cannot

insist on the hemlock-cure, as in the case of Socrates. Gherardi,

looking furtively under his eyelids at Leigh's strong lithe figure, and

classic head, felt he could have willingly poisoned or stabbed him. For

there were, and ARE great interests at stake in the so-called

"conversion of England,"--it is truly one of the largest financial

schemes ever set afloat in the world, if those whose duty it is to

influence and control events could only be brought to see the practical

side of the matter, and set a check on its advancement before it is too

late. Gherardi knew what great opportunities there were in embryo of

making large fortunes;--and not only of making large fortunes but of

obtaining incredible power. There was a great plan afoot of drawing

American and English wealth into the big Church-net through the medium

of superstitious fear and sentimental bigotry,--and an opposer and

enemy like Aubrey Leigh, physically handsome, with such powers of

oratory as are only granted to the very few, was capable of influencing

women as well as men--and women, as Gherardi well recognised, are the

chief supporters of the Papal system. Uneasily he thought of a certain

wealthy American heiress whom he had persuaded into thinking herself

specially favoured and watched over by the Virgin Mary, and who,

overcome by the strong imaginary consciousness of this heavenly

protection, had signed away in her will a million of pounds sterling to

a particular "shrine" in which he had the largest share of financial

profit. Now, suppose she should chance to come within the radius of

Leigh's attractive personality and teaching, and revoke this bequest?

Deeply incensed he sat considering, yet he was conscious enough of his

own impotency to persuade or move this man a jot.

"I am very sorry," he said at last without raising his eyes, and

carefully preserving an equable and mild tone of voice, "I am sorry you

are so harsh in your judgments, Mr. Leigh;--and still more sorry that

you appear to be bent on opposing the Roman Catholic movement in

England. I will do you the justice to believe that you are moved by a

sincere though erroneous conviction,--and it is out of pure kindness

and interest in you that I warn you how useless you will find the task

in which you have engaged. The force of Rome is impregnable!--the

interpretation of the Gospel by the Pope infallible. Any man, no matter

how gifted with eloquence, or moved by what he imagines to be

truth-(and alas! how often error is mistaken for truth and truth for

error!)--must be crushed in the endeavour to cope with such a divinely

ordained power."

"The Car of Juggernaut was considered to be divinely ordained," said

Aubrey, "And the wretched and ignorant populace flung themselves under

it in the fit of hysterical mania to which they were excited by the

priests of the god, and so perished in their thousands. Not THEY were

to blame; but the men who invented the imposture and encouraged the

slaughter. THEY had an ideal;--the priests had none! But Juggernaut had

its end--and so will Rome!"

"You call yourself a Christian?" asked Gherardi, with a touch of

derision.

"Most assuredly I do," replied Aubrey, "Most assuredly I am! I love and

honour Christ with every fibre of my being. I long to see that Divine

Splendour of the ages stand out white and shining and free from the mud

and slime with which His priests have bespattered Him. I believe in Him

absolutely! But I can find nowhere in His Gospel that He wished us to

turn Religion into a sort of stock-jobbing company managed by

sacerdotal directors in Rome!"

"What do you know about the 'sacerdotal directors' as you call them, of

Rome?" asked Gherardi slowly, his eyes narrowing at the corners, and

his whole countenance expressing ineffable disdain, "Do you think we

give out the complex and necessary workings of our sacred business to

the uneducated public?"

"No, I do not," replied Aubrey, "For you keep the public in the dark as

much as you can. Your methods of action are precisely those of the

priests of ancient Egypt, who juggled with what they were pleased to

call their sacred 'mysteries' in precisely the same way as you do. Race

copies race. Roman Christianity is grafted upon Roman Paganism. When

the Apostles were all dead, and their successors (who had never been in

personal touch with Christ) came on to the scene of action, they

discovered that the people of Rome would not do without the worship of

woman in their creed, so they cleverly substituted the Virgin Mary for

Venus and Diana. They turned the statues of gods and heroes into

figures of Apostles and Saints. They knew it would be unwise to deprive

the populace of what they had been so long accustomed to, and therefore

they left them their swinging censers, their gold chalices, and their

symbolic candles. Thus it is that Roman Catholicism became, and is

still, merely a Christian form of Paganism which is made to pay

successfully, just as the feasts and Saturnalia of ancient days were

made to pay as spectacular and theatrical pastimes. I should not blame

your Church if it declared itself to be an offshoot of Paganism at

once,--Paganism, or any other form of faith, deserves respect as long

as its priests and followers are sincere; but when their belief is a

mere pretence, and their system degenerates into a scheme of making

money out of the fond faiths of the ignorant, then I consider it is

time to protest against such blasphemy in the presence of God and all

things divine and spiritual!"

Gherardi had listened to these words very quietly, his countenance

gradually relaxing and smoothing into an amiable expression of

forbearance. He looked up now at Aubrey with a smile that was almost

benignant.

"You are quite right, Mr. Leigh!" he said gently, "I begin to

understand you now! I see that you have studied deeply, and you have

thought still more. If you will continue your studies and your thinking

also, you will see how difficult it is for us to move as rapidly with

the times as you would have us do. You must remember that it would be

quite possible for Holy Mother Church to rise at once to the high

scientific and psychical position you wish her to adopt, if it were not

for the mass of the ignorant, with whom one must have patience! You are

a man in the prime of life--you are zealous--eager for

improvement,--yes!--all that is very admirable and praiseworthy. But

you forget the numerous and widely differing interests with which we of

the Church have to deal. For the great majority of persons it would be

useless, for example, to give them lessons on the majesty of God's work

in the science of Astronomy. They would be confused, bewildered, and

more or less frightened out of faith altogether. They must have

something tangible to cling to--for instance,"--and he pressed the tips

of his fingers delicately together, "there are grades of intelligence

just as there are grades of creation; you cannot instruct a caterpillar

as you instruct a man. Now there are many human beings who are of the

caterpillar quality of brain--what are you to do with them? They would

not understand God as manifested in the solar system, but they would

try to please some favourite Saint by good conduct. Is it not better

that they should believe in the Saint than in nothing?"

"I cannot think it well for anyone to believe in a lie," said Aubrey

slowly, taken aback despite himself by Gherardi's sudden gentleness,

"There is a magnificent simplicity in truth;--truth which, the more it

is tested, the truer it proves. Where is there any necessity of

falsehood? Surely the marvels of nature could be explained with as much

ease as the supposed miracles of a Saint?"

"I doubt it!" answered Gherardi smiling, "You must admit, my dear sir,

that our scientific men are a great deal too abstruse for the

majority;--in some cases they are almost too abstruse for themselves!

You spoke just now of the priests of Egypt;--the oracles of Memphis

were clear reading compared to the involved sentences of some of our

modern scientists! Scientific books are hard nuts to crack even for the

highly educated; but for the uneducated, believe me, the personality of

a Saint is much more consoling than the movements of a star. Besides,

Humanity must have something human to love and to revere. The infinite

gradations of the Mind of God through Matter, appeal to none but those

of the very highest intellectual capability."

Aubrey was silent a moment, then he said,

"But even the most ignorant can understand Christ,--Christ as He

revealed Himself to the world in perfect beauty and simplicity as 'a

Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.' There needs no Vatican, no

idolatry of the Pope, no superstitious images, no shrines of healing

and reliquaries to explain His sublime intention!"

"I am afraid, Mr. Leigh, you entertain a very optimistic view of

mankind," said Gherardi, "Unfortunately Christ is not enough for many

people. Christ was an Incarnation of God, and though He became Man he

'knew not sin.' He therefore stands apart; an Example, but not a

Companion. There are a certain class of sinners who like to think of

Saints;--human beings constituted like themselves, who have committed

errors, even crimes, and repented of them. This is a similar spirit to

that of the child who catches hold of any convenient support he can

find to guide his first tottering steps across the floor to his

mother,-the Saint helps the feeble-footed folk to totter their way

towards Christ. I assure you, our Church considers everything that is

necessary for the welfare of its weakest brethren."

"Yes,--I grant you that it is full of subtle means for approaching and

commanding the ignorant," said Aubrey. "But to the intellectual forces

it offers no progress."

"The intellectual forces can clear their own way!" declared Gherardi,

rising to his full imposing height, and beaming sovereign benevolence

on his visitor, "and can, if they choose, make their own Church. This

is the age of freedom, and no restraint is placed on the action of the

intellectually free. But the ignorant must always form the majority;

and in their ignorance and helplessness, will do wisely to remain like

obedient children under the sway of Rome!"

Aubrey rose also, and could not forbear an involuntary glance of

reluctant admiration at the stately figure and commanding attitude of

the man who confronted him with such a pride in the persistent

Jesuitical conviction that even a Lie may be used in religion for the

furtherance of conversion to the Truth.

"I do not see," Gherardi went on, smiling blandly, "why after all, you

should not be received by the Holy Father. I will try to arrange it for

you. But it would avail you very little, I imagine, as he is not

strong, and would not be capable of conversing with you for more than a

few minutes. I think it would serve your purpose much more to carefully

study the movements, and the work of what you call 'the stock-jobbing

company of sacerdotal directors,'" and here his smile became still more

broadly benevolent, "and take note of their divisions and subdivisions

of influence which extend from the very poorest and most abandoned to

the very highest and most cultured. You will then understand why I

maintain that Rome as a power is impregnable;--and why some of the more

far-sighted and prophetic among us look upon the Conversion of England

as an almost accomplished fact!"

Aubrey smiled; but he was not without the consciousness that from his

own particular point of view Gherardi had some excuse for his belief.

"According to your own written opinions," went on Gherardi, "for I have

read your books,--the Church of England is in a bad way. Its

Ritualistic form is very nearly Roman. Some of your Archbishops confess

to a liking for incense! You admit that the stricter forms of

Protestantism do not comfort the sick soul in times of need; well, what

would you Socialists and Freethinkers have? Would you do without a

Church altogether?"

"No," said Aubrey quickly, "But we would have a purified Church,--a

House of Praise to God--without any superstition or dogma."

"You must have dogma," said Gherardi complacently, "You must formulate

something out of a chaos of opinion. As for superstition, you will

never get rid of that weakness out of the human composition. If the

Church gives nothing for this particular mood of man to feed on, man

will invent something else OUTSIDE the Church. My dear sir, we have

thought of all these difficulties for ages! In religion one cannot

appeal solely to the intellect. One must touch the heart--the emotions.

Music, painting, colour, spectacle, all these are permitted us to use

for the good purpose of lifting the soul of a sinner to contemplate

something better than himself. Women and little children enter the

Church as well as men,--would you have THEM find no comfort? Must a

woman with a broken heart take her sorrows to the vast Silence of an

unreasonable God among universes of star systems? Or shall she find

hope, and a gleam of comfort in a prayer to a woman of the same clay as

herself in the person of the Virgin Mary? And remember, there is

something very beautiful in the symbol of the Virgin as applied to

womanhood! The Mother of God! Does it not suggest to your poetical mind

that woman is destined always to be the Mother of the God?--that is,

mother of the perfect man when that desirable consummation shall be

accomplished?"

"I have never doubted it.'" said Aubrey, "The Mother of Christ is to me

a symbol of womanhood for all time!" Gherardi smiled.

"Good! Then in spite of your denunciations you come very near to our

faith'"

"I never denied the beauty, romance, or mysticism of the Roman Catholic

Faith," said Aubrey, "If it were purified from the accumulated

superstition of ages, and freed from intolerance and bigotry, it would

perhaps be the grandest form of Christianity in the world. But the rats

are in the house, and the rooms want cleaning!"

"In every house there are those rats--in every room there is dirt!"

said Gherardi, "Presuming that you speak in a moral sense. What of your

Houses of Parliament? What of the French Senate? What of the Reichstag?

What of the Russian Autocracy?--the American Republic? In every quarter

the rats squeal, and the dirt gathers! The Church of Rome is purity

itself compared to your temporal governments! My dear sir," and

approaching, he laid a kindly hand on Aubrey's arm, "I would not be

harsh with you for the world! I understand your nature perfectly. It is

full of enthusiasm and zeal for righteousness,--your heart warms to the

sorrows of the human race,--you would lift up the whole world to God's

footstool; you would console--you would be a benefactor--you would

elevate, purify, rejuvenate, inspire! Yes! This is a grand mood--one

which has fired many a would-be reformer before you,--but you forget!

It is not the Church against which you should arm yourself--it is the

human race! It is not one or many religious systems with which you

should set yourself to contend--it is the blind brutishness of

humanity!" As he spoke, his tall form appeared to tower to an even

greater height,--his eyes flashed, and the intellectual pride and force

of his character became apparent in every feature of his face. "If

humanity in the mass asked us for Christ only; if men and women would

deny themselves the petty personal aim, the low vice, the crawling

desire to ingratiate themselves with Heaven, the Pharisaical

affectation of virtue--if they would themselves stand clear of 'vain

repetition' and obstinate egoism, and would of themselves live purely,

the Church would be pure! May I venture to suggest to you that men make

the Church, not the Church the men? We try to supply the spiritual

needs of the human being, such as his spiritual needs at present

are,--when he demands more we will give him more. At present his needs

are purely personal, and therefore low and tainted with

sensuality,--yet we drag him along through these emotions as near to

the blameless Christ as we can. When he is impersonal enough, unselfish

enough, loyal-hearted enough, to stand face to face with the glorious

manifestation of the Deity unaided, we can cast away his props, such as

superstitious observances, Saints and the like, and leave him,--but

then the Millennium will have come, and there will be new heavens and a

new earth!"

He spoke well, with force and fervour, and Aubrey Leigh was for a

moment impressed. After a slight pause however, he said,

"You admit the ignorance of human beings, and yet--you would keep them

ignorant?"

"Keep them ignorant!" Gherardi laughed lightly. "That is more than any

of us can do nowadays! Every liberty is afforded them to learn,--and if

they still remain barbarous it is because they elect to be so. But OUR

duty is to look after the ignorant more than the cultured! Quite true

it is that the Pope lost a magnificent opportunity in the Dreyfus

affair,--if he had spoken in favour of mercy and justice he would have

won thousands of followers; being silent he has lost thousands. But

this should be a great satisfaction to you, Mr. Leigh! For if the Holy

Father had given an example to the Catholic clergy to act in the true

Christian spirit towards Dreyfus, the Conversion of England might have

been so grafted on enthusiastic impulse as to be a much nearer

possibility than it is now!"

Aubrey was silent.

"Now, Mr. Leigh, I think you have gained sufficient insight into my

views to judge me with perhaps greater favour than you were inclined to

do at the beginning of our interview," continued Gherardi, "I assure

you that I shall watch your career with the greatest interest! You have

embarked in a most hopeless cause,--you will try to help the helpless,

and as soon as they are rescued out of trouble, they will turn and rend

you,--you will try to teach them the inner mysteries of God's working,

and they will say you are possessed of a devil! You will endeavour to

upset shams and hypocrisies, and the men of your press will write you

down and say you are seeking advertisement and notoriety for yourself.

Was there ever a great thinker left unmartyred? Or a great writer that

has not been misunderstood and condemned? You wish to help and serve

humanity! Enthusiast! You would do far better to help and serve the

Church! For the Church rewards; humanity has cursed and killed every

great benefactor it ever had INCLUDING CHRIST!"

The terrible words beat on Aubrey's ears like the brazen clang of a

tocsin, for he knew they were true. But he held his ground.

"There are worse things than death," he said simply.

Gherardi smiled kindly.

"And there are worse things than life!" he said,

"Life holds a good many harmless enjoyments, which I am afraid you are

putting away from you in your prime, for the sake of a mere chimera.

But--after all, what does it matter! One must have a hobby! Some men

like horse-racing, others book-collecting,--others pictures,--and so

forth--you like the religious question! Well, no doubt it affords you a

great many opportunities of studying character. I shall be very

happy--" here he extended his hand cordially, "to show you anything

that may be of interest to you in Rome, and to present you to any of

our brethren that may assist you in your researches. I can give you a

letter to Rampolla--"

Aubrey declined the offered introduction with a decided negative shake

of his head.

"No," he said, "I know Cardinal Bonpre; that is enough!"

"But there is a great difference between Rampolla and Bonpre," said

Gherardi, with twinkling eyes, "Bonpre is scarcely ever in Rome. He

lives a life apart--and has for a long while been considered as a kind

of saint from the privacy and austerity of his life. But he has

heralded his arrival in the Eternal City triumphantly--by the

performance of a miracle! What do you say to this?--you who would do

away with things miraculous?"

"I say nothing till I hear," answered Aubrey, "I must know what the

nature of the so-called miracle is. I am a believer in soul-forces, and

in the exhalation of spiritual qualities affecting or influencing

others: but in this there is no miracle, it is simply natural law."

"Well, you must interview the Cardinal yourself," said Gherardi

indulgently, "and tell me afterwards what you think about it, if indeed

you think anything. But you will not find him at home this morning. He

is summoned to the Vatican."

"On account of the miracle?--or the scandal affecting the Abbe

Vergniaud?" asked Aubrey.

"Both matters are under discussion, I believe," replied Gherardi

evasively, "But they are not in my province. Now, can I be of any

further service to you, Mr. Leigh?"

"No. I am sorry to have taken up so much of your time," said Aubrey,

"But I think I understand your views--"

"I hope you do," interrupted Gherardi, "And that you will by and by

grasp the fact that my views are shared by almost everyone holding any

Church authority. But you must go about in Rome, and make enquiries for

yourself . . . now, let me see! Do you know the Princesse D'Agramont?"

"No."

"Oh, you must know her,--she is a great friend of Donna Sovrani's, and

a witty and brilliant personage in herself. She is rather of your way

of thinking, and so is out of favour with the Church. But that will not

matter to you; and you will meet all the dissatisfied and enthusiastic

of the earth in her salons! I will tell her to send you a card."

Aubrey said something by way of formal acknowledgment, and then took

his leave. He was singularly depressed, and his face, always quick to

show traces of thought, had somewhat lost its former expression of

eager animation. The wily Gherardi had for the time so influenced his

sensitive mind as to set it almost to the tune of the most despairing

of Tennyson's "Two Voices",

"A life of nothings, nothing worth,

From that first nothing ere his birth,

To that last nothing under earth."

What was the use of trying to expound a truth, if the majority

preferred a lie?

"Will one bright beam be less intense,

When thy peculiar difference

Is cancelled in the world of sense?"

And Gherardi noted the indefinable touch of fatigue that gave the

slight droop of the shoulders and air of languor to the otherwise

straight slim figure as it passed from his presence,--and smiled. He

had succeeded in putting a check on unselfish ardour, and had thrown a

doubt into the pure intention of enthusiastic toil. That was enough for

the present. And scarcely had Aubrey crossed the threshold--scarcely

had the echo of his departing footsteps died away--when a heavy velvet

curtain in the apartment was cautiously thrust aside, and Monsignor

Moretti stepped out of a recess behind it, with a dignity and composure

which would have been impossible to any but an Italian priest convicted

of playing the spy. Gherardi faced him confidently.

"Well?" he said, with a more exhaustive enquiry expressed in his look

than in the simple ejaculation.

"Well!" echoed Moretti, as he slowly advanced into the centre of the

room, "You have not done as much as I expected you would. Your

arguments were clever, but not--to a man of his obstinacy, convincing."

And sitting down, he turned his dark face and gleaming eyes full on his

confrere, who with a shrug of his massive shoulders expressed in his

attitude a disdainful relinquishment of the whole business.

"You have not," pursued Moretti deliberately, "grasped anything like

the extent of this man Leigh's determination and indifference to

results. Please mark that last clause,--indifference to results. He is

apparently alone in the world,--he seems to have nothing to lose, and

no one to care whether he succeeds or fails;--a most dangerous form of

independence! And in his persistence and eloquence he is actually

stopping--yes, I repeat it,--stopping and putting a serious check on

the advancement of the Roman Catholic party. And of course any check

just now means to us a serious financial loss both in England and

America,--a deficit in Vatican revenues which will very gravely

incommode certain necessary measures now under the consideration of His

Holiness. I expected you to grasp the man and hold him,--not by

intimidation but by flattery."

"You think he is to be caught by so common a bait?" said Gherardi,

"Bah! He would see through it at once!"

"Maybe!" replied Moretti, "But perhaps not if it were administered in

the way I mean. You seem to have forgotten the chief influence of any

that can be brought to bear upon the heart and mind of a man,--and that

is, Woman."

Gherardi laughed outright.

"Upon my word I think it would be difficult to find the woman suited to

this case!" he said. "But you who have a diplomacy deeper than that of

any Jew usurer may possibly have one already in view?"

"There is now in Rome," pursued Moretti, speaking with the same even

deliberation of accent, "a faithful daughter of the Church, whose

wealth we can to a certain extent command, and whose charm is

unquestionable,--the Comtesse Sylvie Hermenstein--"

Gherardi started. Moretti eyed him coldly.

"You are not stricken surely by the childlike fascination with which

this princess of coquettes rules her court?" he enquired sarcastically.

"I?" echoed Gherardi, shifting his position so that Moretti's gaze

could not fall so directly upon him. "I? You jest!"

"I think not!" said Moretti, "I think I know something about

women--their capabilities, their passions, their different grades of

power. Sylvie Hermenstein possesses a potent charm which few men can

resist, and I should not wonder if you yourself had been occasionally

conscious of it. She is one of those concerning whom other women say

'they can see nothing in her'. Ah!" and Moretti smiled darkly, "What a

compliment that is from the majority of women to one! This woman Sylvie

is unique. Where is her beauty? You cannot say--yet beauty is her very

essence. She cannot boast perfection of features,--she is frequently

hidden away altogether in a room and scarcely noticed. And so she

reminds me of a certain flower known to the Eastern nations, which is

difficult to find, because so fragile and small that it can scarcely be

seen, but when it is found, and the scent of it unwittingly inhaled, it

drives men mad!"

Gherardi looked at him with a broadly wondering smile.

"You speak so eloquently," he said, "that one would almost fancy--"

"Fancy nothing!" retorted Moretti quickly, "Fancy and I are as far

apart as the poles, except in the putting together of words, in which

easy art I daresay I am as great an adept as Florian Varillo, who can

write verses on love or patriotism to order, without experiencing a

touch of either emotion. What a humbug by the way, that fellow is!--"

and Moretti broke off to consider this new point--"He rants of the

honour of Italy, and would not let his finger ache for her cause! And

he professes to love the 'Sovrani' while all Rome knows that Pon-Pon is

his mistress!"

Gherardi wisely held his peace.

"The Comtesse Sylvie Hermenstein is the little magic flower you must

use;" resumed Moretti, emphasising his words with an authoritative

movement of his hand, "Use her to madden Aubrey Leigh. Bring them

together;--he will lose his head as surely as all men do when they come

under the influence of that soft deep-eyed creature, with the full

white breast of a dove, and the smile of an angel,--and remember, it

would be an excellent thing for the Church if he could be persuaded to

marry her,--there would be no more preaching then!--for the thoughts of

love would outweigh the theories of religion."

"You think it?" queried Gherardi dubiously.

"I know it!" replied Moretti rising, and preparing to take his

departure, "But,--play the game cautiously! Make no false move.

For--understand me well, this man Leigh must be silenced, or we shall

lose England!"

And with these last words he turned abruptly on his heel and left the

apartment.