ight of their
own moral reason, and among whom ye shall therefore see better examples
of practical morality than among such as yourselves; who, though calling
yourselves Christians, have no more knowledge of the true acceptation
and meaning of your religion, than if you had left your Christianity at
the Cape of Good Hope, as they say of you, and forgot to take it up when
you come back again."

"Py Cot! and I can tell you, sir," said the Captain, elevating at once
his voice and his nostrils, and snuffing the air with a truculent and
indignant visage, "that I will not permit you or any man to throw any
such scandal on my character.--I thank Cot, I can bring good witness
that I am as good a Christian as another, for a poor sinner, as the best
of us are; and I am ready to justify my religion with my sword--Cot
tamn!--Compare my own self with a parcel of black heathen bodies and
natives, that were never in the inner side of a kirk whilst they lived,
but go about worshipping stocks and stones, and swinging themselves upon
bamboos, like peasts, as they are!"

An indignant growling in his throat, which sounded like the
acquiescence of his inward man in the indignant proposition which his
external organs thus expressed, concluded this haughty speech, which,
however, made not the least impression on Touchwood, who cared as little
for angry tones and looks as he did for fine speeches. So that it is
likely a quarrel between the Christian preceptor and the peacemaker
might have occurred for the amusement of the company, had not the
attention of both, but particularly that of Touchwood, been diverted
from the topic of debate by the entrance of Lord Etherington and
Mowbray.

The former was, as usual, all grace, smiles, and gentleness. Yet,
contrary to his wonted custom, which usually was, after a few general
compliments, to attach himself particularly to Lady Binks, the Earl, on
the present occasion, avoided the side of the room on which that
beautiful but sullen idol held her station, and attached himself
exclusively to Lady Penelope Penfeather, enduring, without flinching,
the strange variety of conceited _bavardage_, which that lady's natural
parts and acquired information enabled her to pour forth with
unparalleled profusion.

An honest heathen, one of Plutarch's heroes, if I mistake not,[II-E]
dreamed once upon a night, that the figure of Proserpina, whom he had
long worshipped, visited his slumbers with an angry and vindict