rtainly," said the priest, "it is our duty to guard the Catholics
from such immoral customs. We do not believe any of the sectarian
denominations, into which I regret to learn your family is divided,
derive their existence or institutions from God, or contain the
_ordinary means_ of salvation. And while under this belief, in which we
are joined by millions upon millions of Christians, living and dead, how
can we join your prayer or worship, when we know it to be spurious and
illegitimate?"

"I shall, before I am done with you, sir," she replied, "prove your
church idolatrous, and all Papists idolaters; and this is one of the
proofs, this horrid opinion of yours, sir."

"It is not my _opinion_ at all, miss," said he, coolly; "it is my
_faith_, and that of God's church in all ages. Now, on the very plea
that we all are idolaters, as you call us, for this very reason you
should except your hired help from joining in your 'long prayers.' For
if you have any faith in God, or believe you address him in prayer, why
should you insult and mock him by taking an unenlightened, Papistical
idolater to join your petitions? If you were to go to ask a favor of a
king, or of the president, would you deem it prudent to take one to
accompany you who was guilty of high treason? Would not this lead to
your certain rejection from the presence of majesty or excellency with
disgrace and punishment? Now, Catholics, if they be idolaters, are
guilty of treason against Heaven. Do not, then, insult heaven and its
divine Majesty, by asking them to join in your 'holy prayers.'"

This "nonplussed" the self-confident and vain Amanda; all she could
answer was, that "that was fine Jesuitism."

"Meditate well on it," said the priest, "and repent, if you have been
guilty of violating the laws of God, the laws of your country, and the
dictates of reason, by compelling Catholics to join in your, to them,
repulsive and unlawful worship. Forgive me, miss; I must be off. Good
by. God bless you," said he, departing.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE ENLIGHTENED CITIZENS.

"Any news this morning, squire?" said Mr. Wakely, the tavern keeper, to
his _honor_ Squire Wilson, as he entered the bar room with a cigar in
his mouth.

"Wal, nothin' except this report of the turning of old uncle Jacob
Prying, if we can give credit to such a rumor."

"I seed the priest riding past here two days since," said the tavern
man, "and his team half dead from driving. There can b