ill I have done. I know what you wish to say. It
is that your sense of protest is not merely sentimental, but
rather moral; is it not so?"
Monsignor nodded. It was precisely what he had wished to say.
"That is not true, however. It is true that your moral sense seems
outraged, but the reason is that you have not yet all the data
(the moral sense is a department of the reason, remember). Well,
you admit the logic of society's defending itself; but it seems to
you that that which is, as you very properly said, the divine
characteristic of Christianity--I mean, readiness to suffer rather
than to inflict suffering--is absent from the world; that the
cross, as you said again, has been dropped by the Church.
"Now, if you will reflect a moment, you will see that it is very
natural that that should appear so, in a world that is
overwhelmingly Christian. It is very natural that there should not
be persecution of Christians, for example, since there is no one
to persecute them; and therefore that you should see only the
rights of the Church to rule, and not its divine prerogative of
pain. But I suppose that if you saw the opposite, if you were to
watch the other process, and see that the Church is still able to
suffer, and to accept suffering, in a manner in which the world is
never capable of suffering, I imagine you would be reassured."
Monsignor drew a long breath.
"I thought so. . . . Well, does not the Contemplative Life
reassure you? And are you aware that in Ireland alone there are
four millions of persons wholly devoted to the Contemplative
Life? And that, so great is the rush of vocations, the
continent of Europe----"
"No," cried the priest harshly. "Voluntary suffering is not the
same thing. . . . I . . . I long to see Christians suffering at
the hands of the world."
"You mean that you are doubtful as to how they would bear it?"
"Yes."
The monk smiled, slowly and brilliantly, and there was a look of
such serene confidence in his face that the other was amazed.
"Well . . ." he paused again. "Well, I take it that we have laid
our finger upon what it is that troubles you. You admit that the
Christian States have a right to punish all who attack the very
foundations of their stability----"
"No-I----"
"By your _reason_, I mean, Monsignor."
"Yes," said Monsignor slowly. "By my _reason_."
"But that you are not satisfied that the Church can still suffer;
that it seems to you she has lost that w
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