"Well?" said Miss Essie, using her eyes; while Faith forgot her flushed cheeks and used hers.
"You are perhaps aware," he said smiling, "that even fishes have their inflexible points; in other words, a region of bone somewhere."
Miss Essie bowed her head, mentally ejaculating, "You have!"
"And all the fossil tribes, as well as those which now exist, are divided into two great classes,—those which wear their bones on the outside, and those which wear them within. The first have a perfect plate armour—jointed and fitted and carved, piece by piece; but the inner framework is merely cartilaginous. The others, while they shew nothing but pliant flesh, have an internal structure of bone which can outlast ages."
"Curious!" said Miss Essie, eying him all the while carefully. "Then I suppose we are all fishes!"
"I was thinking—apropos to our talk awhile ago—of the intangible, unseen nature of a Christian's strength. The moment his defence is worn on the outside, that moment there is a failure of strength within. His real armour of proof is nothing more 'rigid,' Miss Essie, than 'the girdle of truth,' 'the breastplate of righteousness,' and 'for a helmet the hope of salvation.'"
"Very good armour," said Miss Essie; "but can't he wear it without being unlike other people?"
"Can he?"
"Look here," said Squire Stoutenburgh, "what have you been about? If you've been studying anatomy, Mr. Linden, I'll go learn dancing!"
And the conversation diverged.