It was, as a Frenchman had said, just a hundred years ago.  Catholicism survived; but no more.

III

And as for His inner life, what can be said of that?  He lay now back in his wooden chair, thinking with closed eyes.

He could not have described it consistently even to Himself, for indeed He scarcely knew it:  He acted rather than indulged in reflex thought.  But the centre of His position was simple faith.  The Catholic Religion, He knew well enough, gave the only adequate explanation of the universe; it did not unlock all mysteries, but it unlocked more than any other key known to man; He knew, too, perfectly well, that it was the only system of thought that satisfied man as a whole, and accounted for him in his essential nature.  Further, He saw well enough that the failure of Christianity to unite all men one to another rested not upon its feebleness but its strength; its lines met in eternity, not in time.  Besides, He happened to believe it.

But to this foreground there were other moods whose shifting was out of his control.  In his exalt moods, which came upon Him like a breeze from Paradise, the background was bright with hope and drama—­He saw Himself and His companions as Peter and the Apostles must have regarded themselves, as they proclaimed through the world, in temples, slums, market-places and private houses, the faith that was to shake and transform the world.  They had handled the Lord of Life, seen the empty sepulchre, grasped the pierced hands of Him Who was their brother and their God.  It was radiantly true, though not a man believed it; the huge superincumbent weight of incredulity could not disturb a fact that was as the sun in heaven.  Moreover, the very desperateness of the cause was their inspiration.  There was no temptation to lean upon the arm of flesh, for there was none that fought for them but God.  Their nakedness was their armour, their slow tongues their persuasiveness, their weakness demanded God’s strength, and found it.  Yet there was this difference, and it was a significant one.  For Peter the spiritual world had an interpretation and a guarantee in the outward events he had witnessed.  He had handled the Risen Christ, the external corroborated the internal.  But for Silvester it was not so.  For Him it was necessary so to grasp spiritual truths in the supernatural sphere that the external events of the Incarnation were proved by rather than proved the certitude of His spiritual apprehension.  Certainly, historically speaking, Christianity was true—­proved by its records—­yet to see that needed illumination.  He apprehended the power of the Resurrection, therefore Christ was risen.