"Yes, here we are," said I; "and we must make the best of it. It's a bad affair, of course, to live in scientific times; and it's a great pity that we were not born in the Dark Ages; but it is too late to try to help it."
"Ah! you answer with a sneer; you are materialistic and infidel."
"Stop, Doctor! Let me make a bargain with you. If you won't call me names, I won't call you names. You are not in the pulpit now, and you have no right to domineer over me."
"But what do you say to all these signs and wonders which I have mentioned?"
"What do you say to the Rochester knockings and the Stratford mysteries and the Mormon miracles?"
"All deceptions, or works of the Devil," affirmed the Doctor, without a moment's hesitation.
"Excuse me for smiling," I replied "It is pleasant to observe what a quick spirit you have for discerning the true wonders from the false."
"You will see, you will see," he answered, and relapsed into a grave silence.
We reached New Haven and took rooms at the New Haven Hotel. I had anticipated a little nap before going out on our expedition; but I had not made allowance for the proselyting zeal of Dispensationists. My poor bewildered friend Potter uttered something which he sincerely meant to be a prayer, but which sounded to me painfully like blasphemy. Next they sang a queer hymn of theirs in discordant chorus. After that, Mr. Riley rolled up his sleeves and his eyes, flung his arms about, wept and shrieked unknown tongues for twenty minutes. Then the butcher, the baker, and candlestick-maker had a combined convulsion on the floor, rolling over each other and upsetting furniture. By this time the hotel was roused and the landlord made us a call.
"What the Old Harry are you about?" he demanded, angrily. "Don't you know it's after midnight?"