"And now, sir, I am at your disposal," said he; and sat immovable while the Prime Minister spoke.
II
The Prime Minister's argument ran upon material and mathematical lines; he imported no passion into the discussion,—there was no need. He had at his disposal all that was requisite—the parliamentary majority, the popular mandate, and, so he believed, the necessary expedient under the Constitution for bringing the Church to heel. Episcopalianism no longer commanded a majority of the nation; Church endowments had therefore become the preserves of a minority, and scholarship by remaining denominational was getting to be denationalized. Having laid down his premises he proceeded to set forth his demands. Henceforth the Universities were to be released from Church control, all collegiate and other educational appointments to be open and unsectarian, scholarships and fellowships, however exclusive the intentions of their pious founders, were to follow in the same course; degrees of divinity were to be granted irrespective of creed, and chairs of theology open to all comers.
At this point the Archbishop, who had hitherto sat silent, put in a word.
"That will include Buddhists and Mohammedans. Is such your intention?"
The Prime Minister corrected himself. "I should, of course, have said 'all who profess themselves Christians.'"
The Archbishop accepted the concession with an ironical bow.
"Unitarians and Roman Catholics?"
"That would necessarily follow."
"I am ceasing to be amazed," said his Grace coldly. "We, the custodians of theological teaching, are to admit to our endowments the two extremes of heresy and of schism."