Part 40 (1/2)

”That's no reason, with railroads.”

”I see they have begun our rail,” said Vincent; ”I thought the University had opposed it.”

”The Pope in his own states has given in,” said Sheffield, ”so we may well do the same.”

”Don't talk of the Pope,” said Vincent, ”I'm sick of the Pope.”

”The Pope?” said Fusby, overhearing; ”have you heard that his Holiness is coming to England?”

”Oh, oh,” cried Vincent, ”come, I can't stand this. I must go; good night t'you, Carlton. Where's my gown?”

”I believe the Common-Room man has hung it up in the pa.s.sage;--but you should stop and protect me from Fusby.”

Neither did Vincent turn to the rescue, nor did Fusby profit by the hint; so poor Carlton, with the knowledge that he was wanted in his rooms, had to stay a good half-hour _tete-a-tete_ with the latter, while he prosed to him _in extenso_ about Pope Sixtus XIV., the Jesuits, suspected men in the University, Mede on the Apostasy, the Catholic Relief Bill, Dr. Pusey's Tract on Baptism, Justification, and the appointment of the Taylor Professors.

At length, however, Carlton was released. He ran across the quadrangle and up his staircase; flung open his door, and made his way to his inner room. A person was just rising to meet him; impossible! but it was though. ”What? Reding!” he cried; ”who would have thought! what a pleasure! we were just-- ... What brings you here?” he added, in an altered tone. Then gravely, ”Reding, where are you?”

”Not yet a Catholic,” said Reding.

There was a silence; the answer conveyed a good deal: it was a relief, but it was an intimation. ”Sit down, my dear Reding; will you have anything? have you dined? What a pleasure to see you, old fellow! Are we really to lose you?” They were soon in conversation on the great subject.

CHAPTER V.

”If you have made up your mind, Reding,” said Carlton, ”it's no good talking. May you be happy wherever you are! You must always be yourself; as a Romanist, you will still be Charles Reding.”

”I know I have a kind, sympathizing friend in you, Carlton. You have always listened to me, never snubbed me except when I deserved it. You know more about me than any one else. Campbell is a dear, good fellow, and will soon be dearer to me still. It isn't generally known yet, but he is to marry my sister. He has borne with me now for two years; never been hard upon me; always been at my service when I wanted to talk with him. But no one makes me open my heart as you do, Carlton; you sometimes have differed from me, but you have always understood me.”

”Thank you for your kind words,” answered Carlton; ”but to me it is a perfect mystery why you should leave us. I enter into your reasons: I cannot, for the life of me, see how you come to your conclusion.”

”To me, on the other hand, Carlton, it is like two and two make four; and you make two and two five, and are astonished that I won't agree with you.”

”We must leave these things to a higher power,” said Carlton. ”I hope we sha'n't be less friends, Reding, when you are in another communion. We know each other; these outward things cannot change us.”

Reding sighed; he saw clearly that his change of religion, when completed, would not fail to have an effect on Carlton's thoughts about him, as on those of others. It could not possibly be otherwise; he was sure himself to feel different about Carlton.

After a while, Carlton said gently, ”Is it quite impossible, Reding, that now at the eleventh hour we may retain you? what _are_ your grounds?”

”Don't let us argue, dear Carlton,” answered Reding; ”I have done with argument. Or, if I must say something for manners' sake, I will but tell you that I have fulfilled your request. You bade me read the Anglican divines; I have given a great deal of time to them, and I am embracing that creed which alone is the scope to which they converge in their separate teachings; the creed which upholds the divinity of tradition with Laud, consent of Fathers with Beveridge, a visible Church with Bramhall, dogma with Bull, the authority of the Pope with Thorndike, penance with Taylor, prayers for the dead with Ussher, celibacy, asceticism, ecclesiastical discipline with Bingham. I am going to a Church, which in these, and a mult.i.tude of other points, is nearer the Apostolic Church than any existing one; which is the continuation of the Apostolic Church, if it has been continued at all. And _seeing_ it to be _like_ the Apostolic Church, I _believe_ it to be the _same_. Reason has gone first, faith is to follow.”

He stopped, and Carlton did not reply; a silence ensued, and Charles at length broke it. ”I repeat, it's no use arguing; I have made up my mind, and been very slow about it. I have broken it to my mother, and bade her farewell. All is determined; I cannot go back.”

”Is that a nice feeling?” said Carlton, half reproachfully.

”Understand me,” answered Reding; ”I have come to my resolution with great deliberation. It has remained on my mind as a mere intellectual conclusion for a year or two; surely now at length without blame I may change it into a practical resolve. But none of us can answer that those habitual and ruling convictions, on which it is our duty to act, will remain before our consciousness every moment, when we come into the hurry of the world, and are a.s.sailed by inducements and motives of various kinds. Therefore I say that the time of argument is past; I act on a conclusion already drawn.”

”But how do you know,” asked Carlton, ”but what you have been unconsciously bia.s.sed in arriving at it? one notion has possessed you, and you have not been able to shake it off. The ability to retain your convictions in the bustle of life is to my mind the very test, the necessary test of their reality.”

”I do, I do retain them,” answered Reding; ”they are always upon me.”