the barouch to the old town, amidst the rain-cataracts, the thunder, and flame of heaven.’
‘I have some kind of remembrance of it, brother.’
‘Then, again, I heard you say that the dook [61a] of Abershaw rode every night on horseback down the wooded hill.’
‘I say, brother, what a wonderful memory you have!’
‘I wish I had not, Jasper, but I can’t help it, it is my misfortune.’
‘Misfortune! well, perhaps it is; at any rate it is very ungenteel to have such a memory. I have heard my wife say that to show you have a long memory looks very vulgar, and that you can’t give a greater proof of gentility than by forgetting a thing as soon as possible—more especially a promise, or an acquaintance when he happens to be shabby. Well, brother, I don’t deny that I may have said that I believe in dukkerin, and in Abershaw’s dook, which you say is his soul; but what I believe one moment, or say I believe, don’t be certain that I shall believe the next, or say I do.’
‘Indeed, Jasper, I heard you say on a previous occasion on quoting a piece of a song, [61b] that when a man dies he is cast into the earth and there’s an end of him.’
‘I did, did I? Lor’ what a memory you have, brother. But you are not sure that I hold that opinion now.’
‘Certainly not, Jasper. Indeed, after such a sermon as we have been hearing, I should be very shocked if you held such an opinion.’
‘However, brother, don’t be sure I do not, however shocking such an opinion may be to you.’