“We all live for Barabbas,” pursued Moretti, an ironical smile playing on his thin lips, “Not for Christ!  Barabbas, in the shape of the unscrupulous millionaire, robs the world!—­and we share the spoils, pardon his robberies, and set him free.  But whosoever lives outside Dogma, serving God purely and preaching truth,—­him we crucify!—­but our Robber,—­our murderer of Truth, we set at liberty!  Hence, as I said before, the power of the Church!”

Carried away by his thoughts, he rose, and pacing the room, talked more to himself than to Gherardi.

“The Church supports the robber, because he is always a coward and cannot stand alone.  The murderer of his fellow-men’s good name is naturally a liar, and fears lest his lies should find him out.  Fear!  That is the keynote on which we of Rome play our invincible march of triumph!  The Church appeals to the ignorant, the base, the sensual, the false, and the timorous; and knowing that they never repent, but are only afraid, retains them by fear!—­fear, not love!  Christ taught love—­but hate is the more popular virtue!  Hence again, the power of the Church!”

“Your argument is perfectly orthodox!” said Gherardi, with a smile.

“Hate is a grand, a strong quality!” went on Moretti, “It makes nations, it builds up creeds!  If men loved one another what should they need of a Church?  But Hate!—­the subtle sense which makes the ultra-respectable thank God that he is not as other men are!—­the fierce emotion which almost touches ecstacy when the wronged individual thinks his enemy will go to hell!—­the fine fever which sets father against son, creed against creed, nation against nation!—­hate is the chief mainspring of human motives!  From hate and envy spring emulation and conquest—­and we of the Church encourage the haters to hate on!  They make Us!—­they emulate each other in the greed of their gifts to us, which give them notoriety and advertise their generosity,—­we fan the flame and encourage the fury!  For the world must have a religion—­it crucified Christ, but the Church, built up in His name, takes just and daily revenge for His murder!  We do not save—­we kill!  We do not rescue—­we trample down!  We humiliate,—­we crush wherever we can, and it is well and fitting we should do so!  For Humanity is a brute beast, and serves us best under the lash.  Rome made many a blunder in the old days of barbarity and ignorance—­but now we have a thousand forces put into our hands instead of one or two,—­forces to terrorise—­forces to compel!—­and the power of Rome wielded by the Popes of the days to come, shall be indeed a power irresistible!”

He stood enrapt,—­his hand upraised, his eyes flashing, then recalling himself, turned abruptly on Gherardi with an impatient gesture.