"The result is," continued Montrose, growing more vehement, "that whenever a man begins to think, he leaves the Church from sheer inability to gain the information which is needed to reconcile what is taught with common sense. Only the people who don't think, who are Christians because they happen to have been brought up Christians, remain in the Church, and accept emotionally and blindly whatever is told them on ecclesiastical authority. That, when examined, is no authority at all to the thinking man."
"And the inner teaching?"
"It gives a perfectly reasonable and logical explanation which proves that the exoteric teaching is true. I believe all that the Church sets forth save the one word 'eternal' before the one word 'hell.' But then I know why I believe and can defend my belief in a most positive manner, so that any man with common sense must admit the logic of my arguments. Think if the parsons knew of this teaching, and gave it out, how the churches would be thronged. People are not irreligious nowadays. There never was a time when men and women wished to know about the truth more anxiously than they do to-day. But they go to those in authority and are given a stone in place of bread."
"Why will not the parsons take this teaching?"
"I cannot say. It changes nothing they teach outwardly, save the horrible doctrine of eternal punishment, and gives back to all in a rational and convincing way the faith they are gradually losing. Yet the Church goes on blindly repeating the same things Sunday after Sunday, until they have lost their force. The inner teaching would revive that force, if accepted, and the Church would be able to fulfil her true mission, which is to lead civilisation. As it is, her children will not stay with her. Pain is forcing the most advanced souls to try and understand the problems of existence, and this understanding the esoteric teaching gives, as I have proved myself. But the Church should be the teacher: not pain, which comes from ignorance."
"But these fishermen and women would only be bewildered if they sought to understand the problems of life in the way you do."
"Of course: because I am at a higher point of evolution. But what they are I was, and only pain drove me to acquire further knowledge, as pain will drive them in future lives. What Mr. Sparrow teaches them is all right: they are satisfied with bread and do not desire cake. But what I maintain is that the vicar should know more, and then he could do more good with his simple instruction by luring them on to think D E F as well as A B C. However, he is a good man and does his best according to his lights, and that is well. I daresay he is an interesting man when he talks archæology, because that is his hobby and he is sincere."
"Oh, Douglas, I am sure Mr. Sparrow's religion is sincere."
"I am sure it is," assented Montrose quickly. "But his understanding is so limited that he is unable to make religion interesting. And believe me, Alice, that since I met Eberstein and learned what religion really is, I find it the most interesting thing in the world. I know little as yet, as I learn but slowly. Still I am beginning to grasp the great scheme of the present creation, and it is so glorious and beautiful that I shall never rest until I understand it sufficiently to take a conscious part in it, and do the work appointed to me as Douglas Montrose."
Alice was silent. What her lover said was beyond her understanding, as, save some discussions with the limited Mr. Sparrow, she had never talked about such great subjects. Her father never spoke of religion and never went to church, so she really only knew what the vicar could teach her. So far as that went all was well, but she sometimes yearned for a fuller comprehension of creation and for reasonable explanations of life's riddles. From what Montrose had said it seemed likely that he could teach her what she wished to know, and that Eberstein, to whom he had referred, could teach her more when the time came. Her face glowed at the idea and she felt anxious to be instructed at once. But by this time they had wandered down the path to the beach, below the black cliffs, and her lover was talking of other things. She therefore left theology alone for lighter conversation, and approved of Montrose's appreciation of the beauty which clothed sea and land.