“And so he will, papa.  Will you not, dear brother?”

“Upon my honor, my lord,” said Dunroe, “I had a conversation this very morning upon the subject with Tom Norton.”

“I am glad to hear it, my dear son.  It is not too late—­it is never too late—­to amend the life; but in this instance there is an event about to take place which renders a previous reformation, in its truest sense, absolutely indispensable.”

“My lord,” he replied, “the truth is, I am determined to try a course of religion.  Tom Norton tells me it is the best thing in the world to get through life with.”

“Tom Norton might have added that it is a much better thing to get through death with,” added the Earl, gravely.

“But he appears to understand it admirably, my lord,” replied Dunroe.  “He says it quickens a man’s intellects, and not only prevents him from being imposed upon by knaves and sharpers, but enables him, by putting on a long face, and using certain cabalistic phrases, to overreach—­no, not exactly that, but to—­let me see, to steer a safe course through the world; or something to that effect.  He says, too, that religious folks always come best off, and pay more attention to the things of this life, than any one else; and that, in consequence, they thrive and prosper under it.  No one, he says, gets credit so freely as a man that is supposed to be religious.  Now this struck me quite forcibly, as a thing that might be very useful to me in getting out of my embarrassments.  But then, it would be necessary to go to church, I believe—­to pray—­sing psalms—­read the Bible—­and subscribe to societies of some kind or other.  Now all that would be very troublesome.  How does a person pray, my lord?  Is it by repeating the Ten Commandments, or reading a religious book?”

Despite the seriousness of such a subject, Lord Cullamore and his daughter, on glancing at each other, could scarcely refrain from smiling.

“Now, I can’t see,” proceeded Dunroe, “how either the one or the other of the said commandments would sharpen a man for the world, as Tom Norton’s religion does.”

The good old Earl thought either that his son was affecting an ignorance on the subject which he did not feel, or that his ignorance was in reality so great that for the present, at least, it was useless to discuss the matter with him.

“I must say, my dear Dunroe,” he added, in a kind and indulgent voice, “that your first conceptions of reformation are very original, to say the least of them.”

“I grant it, my lord.  Every one knows that all my views, acts, and expressions are original.  ‘Dunroe’s a perfect original’ is the general expression among my friends.  But on the subject of religion, I am willing to be put into training.  I told Tom Norton to look out and hire me a pas’n, or somebody, to give me lessons in it.  Is there such a thing, by the way, as a Religious Grammar?  If so, I shall provide one, and make myself master of all the rules, cases, inflections, interjections, groans, exclamations, and so on, connected with it.  The Bible is the dictionary, I believe?”