IR I began, “I must tell you, in the first place, that there is this to be said for Dick Shafthead—and it is an argument he is too generous to use himself—he took counsel of a friend, who, perhaps rashly, urged him to follow the dictates of his heart.”
“Indeed?” said the baronet.
“Yes; I can answer for it, because I was that friend; and that is one of the reasons why I was so eager to plead for him with Sir Philip.”
“It sounds a damned poor one,” said he. “'May I ask why you advised a son to rebel against his father?”
“If I had thought his father would regard his marrying the girl he loved as an act of rebellion, I might—though I do not say I would—have advised him otherwise. But he had told me that Sir Philip was a man of great sense and understanding; therefore I argued that he would not take a narrow or prejudiced—”
“Prejudiced!” he exclaimed.
“Or a prejudiced view of his son's conduct. I knew he was a good churchman; therefore, as a follower of a Carpenter's Son, he could not seriously let any blemish on a girl's pedigree stand between his son and himself. Besides, he was so highly placed that an alliance with his family would be sufficient to ennoble. Furthermore, as he loves his son, he would wish for nothing so much as his happiness. Lastly, being a great gentleman, Sir Philip would give a lady's case every consideration.” But at this the baronet's feelings could no longer be contained.
“By God, sir!” he exclaimed. “Do you mean to say you preached this damnable sermon to my—to Dick Shafthead?”
I had not preached this sermon, nor anything very much like it; but these were undoubted the arguments I ought to have used.