"I call no man an apostate," cried Mr Rowdy, "who traces the operations of his own mind to their legitimate results; I call no man an infidel who believes that he was born, and that he shall die."
"How good! how liberal! how humane!" exclaimed a chorus of sweet voices.
"And what do YOU say?" I enquired, addressing our new curate.
"For myself," said Mr Mount Huxtable, "I think it sinful in any one to decide on such a subject, unless in the exact words of the church."
"Very good," said the Doctor; "judiciously answered."
"Don't you allow private judgment, sir?" said I.
"No more, sir," he replied, "than I should allow private execution. It is for the church to pass sentence: if any presumptuous individual interferes with her authority, he is as much out of his sphere as if he were to displace Baron Alderson on the bench, go through the mockery of a trial, and condemn an enemy of his own to be hanged."
"Very good, indeed," said the Doctor; "judiciously answered."
"I have often heard your friend, Charles Fustian, say the same," said Araminta.
"Is he a friend of yours, Mount Huxtable?" inquired Dr Smiler, in a very bland tone.