SEWARD.
Ah! Buller! we know now the reason of his absence that day from the Pavilion and Deeside—of his utter seclusion—he was doing penance in the Swiss Giantess—a severe sojourn.
NORTH.
A Good Temper, friends—not a good Conscience—is the Blessing of Life.
BULLER.
Shocked to hear you say so, sir. Unsay it, my dear sir—unsay it—pernicious doctrine. It may get abroad.
NORTH.
The Sulks!—the Celestials. The Sulks are hell, sirs—the Celestials, by the very name, heaven. I take temper in its all-embracing sense of Physical, Mental, and Moral Atmosphere. Pure and serene—then we respire God's gifts, and are happier than we desire! Is not that divine? Foul and disturbed—then we are stifled by God's gifts—and are wickeder than we fear! Is not that devilish? A good Conscience and a bad Temper! Talk not to me, Young Men, of pernicious doctrine—it is a soul-saving doctrine—"millions of spiritual creatures walk unseen" teaching it—men's Thoughts, communing with heaven, have been teaching it—surely not all in vain—since Cain slew Abel.
SEWARD.
The Sage!