all be gratified, not to say glutted, in the Church of his baptism.

It is not the Roman ritual, however splendid, nor her ceremonial,
however spiritually significant, nor her system of doctrine, as well
arranged as Roman law and as subtle as Greek philosophy, that makes
Romanists nowadays.

It is when a person of religious spirit and strong convictions as to
the truth and importance of certain dogmas--few in number it may be;
perhaps only one, the Being of God--first becomes fully alive to the
tendency and direction of the most active opinions of the day; when,
his alarm quickening his insight, he reads as it were between the
lines of books, magazines, and newspapers; when, struck with a sudden
trepidation, he asks, 'Where is this to stop? how can I, to the extent
of a poor ability, help to stem this tide of opinion which daily
increases its volume and floods new territory?'--then it is that the
Church of Rome stretches out her arms and seems to say, 'Quarrel not
with your destiny, which is to become a Catholic. You may see
difficulties and you may have doubts. They abound everywhere. You will
never get rid of them. But I, and I alone, have never coquetted with
the spirit of the age. I, and I alone, have never submitted my creeds
to be overhauled by infidels. Join me, acknowledge my authority, and
you need dread no side attack and fear no charge of inconsistency.
Succeed finally I must, but even were I to fail, yours would be the
satisfaction of knowing that you had never held an opinion, used an
argument, or said a word, that could fairly have served the purpose of
your triumphant enemy.'

At such a crisis as this in a man's life, he does not ask himself, How
little can I believe? With how few miracles can I get off?--he demands