-morrow if he could."

"Then why doesn't he? Isn't he supreme?" snapped the other bitterly.

"Indeed not. Countries rule themselves. He only has a veto if an
actually unchristian law is passed. And this is not actually
unchristian. It's based on universal principles."

"But----"

"Wait an instant. . . . Yes, the Church sanctions it in one
sense. So did the Church approve of the death penalty in the case
of murder--another sin against society. Well, Christian society a
hundred years ago inflicted death for the murder of the body;
Christian society to-day inflicts death for a far greater crime
against herself--that is, murderous attacks against her own
life-principle."

"Then the old Protestants were right after all," burst in
Monsignor indignantly; "they said that Rome would persecute
again if she could."

"If she could?" said the monk questioningly.

"If she was strong enough."

"No, no, no!" cried the other, beating his hand on the table in
gentle impatience; "it would be hopelessly immoral for the Church
to persecute simply because she was strong enough--simply because
she had a majority. She never persecutes for mere opinions. She
has never claimed her right to use force. But, as soon as a
country is convincedly Catholic--as soon, that is to say, as her
civilization rests upon Catholicism _and nothing else_, that
country has a perfect right to protect herself by the death
penalty against those who menace her very existence as a civilized
community. And that is what heretics do; and that is what
Socialists do. Whether the authorities are right or wrong in any
given instance is quite another question. Innocent men have been
hanged. Orthodox Catholics have suffered unjustly. Personally I
believe that I myself am innocent; but I am quite clear that _if I
am a heretic_" (he leaned forward again and spoke slowly), "_if I
am a heretic_, I must be put to death by society."

Monsignor was dumb with sheer amazement, and a consciousness that
he had been baffled. He felt he had been intellectually tricked;
and he felt it an additional outrage that he had been tricked by
this young monk with whom he had come to sympathize.

"But the death penalty!" he cried. "Death! that is the horror. I
understand a spiritual penalty for a spiritual crime--but a
physical one. . . ."

Dom Adrian smiled a little wearily.

"My dear Monsignor," he said, "I thought I had explained that it
was for a crime against society. I am not pu