revolutions,
and expose himself to the charge of unimaginable caprice,--of
theological coquetry? I protest to you that, a priori, I should have
thought it impossible that any man could have made so many and such
violent turns in so short a time without a dislocation of all the
joints of his soul.--without incurring the danger of a 'universal
anchylosis.'"

"One would imagine," said Harrington, with a laugh, "that, in your
estimate, his mind resembles that ingenious toy by which the union
of the various colored rays of light is illustrated: the red, the
yellow, the blue, the green, and so forth, are distinctly painted on
the compartments of a card: but no sooner are they put into a state
of rapid revolution than the whole appears white. Such, it seems,
is the appearance of George Fellowes in that rapid gyration to
which he been subjected: the part-colored rays of his various creeds
are lost sight of and the pure white of his 'candor' is alone
visible!"

"For myself," said I, "I feel in some measure incompetent to
pronounce on his present system. When I saw him for a short time a
few months ago, he told that, though his versatility of faith had
certainly been great, he must remind me (as Mr. Newman had said) that
he had seen both sides; that persons like myself, for example, have
had but one experience; whereas he has had two."

"If he were to urge me with such an argument," replied Harrington, "I
should say we are even then. But I think even you could reply: 'You
yourself injustice, Mr. Fellowes, in saying you have had two
experiences. You have had two dozen, at least; but whether that can
qualify you for speaking with any authority on these subjects I much
doubt; to give any weight to the opinions of any man some stability
at least is necessary.'"

This I could not gainsay. Slow revolutions on momentous subjects,
when there has been much sobriety as well as diligence of investigation,
are, perhaps, not despised as authority. Some superior weight may even
be attached to the later and maturer views. But man changes them
every other day; if they rise and fall with the barometer; if his
whole life has been one rapid pirouette, it is impossible with gravity
to discuss the question, whether at some point he may not have been
right. Whoever be in the right, he cannot well be who has never long
been any thing; and to take such a man for a guide would be almost as
absurd as to mistake a weathercock for a signpost.

"In s