of undue severity. It would, once and for all, get rid of those
endless complaints as to Christian injustice in silencing the
free expression of infidel and socialistic ideas, and offer them
a refuge where such things could not only be discussed, but put
to the test of practice.

Monsignor Masterman himself was still in a state of personal
indecision, but he certainly welcomed this solution of some of
his interior troubles, and he had warmly supported the scheme at
every opportunity he had.

But it was strange how he could not yet, in spite of his efforts,
get rid of that deep discomfort which had been, for a time, lulled
by his visit to Ireland. There was still, deep down in his mind, a
sense that the Christianity he saw round him, and which he himself
helped to administer, was not the religion of its Founder. There
was still an instinct which he could not eradicate, telling that
the essence of the Christian attitude lay in readiness to suffer.
And he only saw round him, so far as the public action of the
Church was concerned, a triumphant Government. He could not
conceal from himself a fear that the world and the Church had,
somehow or other, changed places. . . .

However, this new scheme was, at any rate, an act both of justice
and mercy, and he was very willing indeed--in fact he had
actually proposed it more than once--to go himself with the first
emigrants from England to Massachusetts.