That is true (replied Fellowes with more composure).

Now (said Harrington, with a confidential air), you are my friend, and I will tell you a secret—­be sure you tell no one—­I think that Henry Rogers, Theodore Parker, and Francis Newman are three ninnies; all wrong; for they all profess to believe in divine inspiration:  yet they are not ninnies of the same class.  I admit to Mr. Rogers that there is a real difference.

How do you mean (said Fellowes, with curiosity aroused)?

Why (said Harrington, pausing and becoming impressive), Newman is a flimsy mystic; he has no foundation, but he builds logically enough—­at least as far as I see—­on his fancies and other people’s fancies.  This is to be a simple ninny.  But Mr. Rogers fancies he believes a mystical religion, and doesn’t; and fancies he is very logical, and isn’t.  This is to be a doubly distilled ninny.

Really I do not call this ridicule, Mr. Harrington (said Fellowes, rising), I must call it slander.  What right have you to say that Mr. Rogers does not believe in the holy truths of the New Testament?

Surely (replied Harrington) I have just as much right as Mr. Rogers has to say that Mr. Newman does not believe the holy sentiments of St. Paul, when Mr. Newman says he does.  Do you remember how Mr. Rogers told him it was absurd for an infidel like him to third:  he was in a condition to rebuke any one for being profane, or fancy he had a right to say that he believed this and that mystical text of Paul, which, Mr. Rogers avows, Newman totally mistakes and does not believe as Paul meant it.  Now I may be very wrong; but I augur that Newman does understand Paul, and Rogers does not.  For Rogers is of the Paley school, and a wit; and a brilliant chap he is, like Macaulay.  Such men cannot be mystics nor Puritans in Pauline fashion; they cannot bear to hear of a religion from within; but, as I heard a fellow say the other day, Newman has never worked off the Puritan leaven.

Well (said Fellowes), but why do you call Mr. Rogers illogical?

I think you have seen one instance already, but that is a trifle compared to his fundamental blunder (said Harrington).

What can you mean? how fundamental (asked his friend)?

Why, he says, that I (for instance) who have so faith whatever in what he calls revelation, cannot have any just belief or sure knowledge of the moral qualities of God; in fact, am logically bound (equally with Mr. Newman) to regard God as immoral, if I judge by my own faculties alone.  Does he not say that?

Unquestionably; he has a whole chapter (ch.  III.) of his “Defence” to enforce this on Mr. Newman (replied Fellowes).

Well, next, he tells me, that when the Christian message, as from God, is presented to me, I am to believe it on the word of a God whom I suppose to be, or ought to suppose to be, immoral.  If I suppose A B a rogue, shall I believe the message which the rogue sends me?