CHAPTER XXVII.

The Parson burst upon the philosopher like an avalanche! He was so full

of his subject that he could not let it out in prudent driblets. No, he

went souse upon the astounded Riccabocca,

"Tremendo.

Jupiter ipse ruens tumultu."

The sage--shrinking deeper into his arm-chair, and drawing his

dressing-robe more closely round him--suffered the Parson to talk for

three-quarters of an hour, till indeed he had thoroughly proved his

case; and, like Brutus, "paused for a reply."

Then said Riccabocca mildly, "In much of what you have urged so ably,

and so suddenly, I am inclined to agree. But base is the man who

formally forswears the creed he has inherited from his fathers, and

professed since the cradle up to years of maturity, when the change

presents itself in the guise of a bribe;--when, for such is human

nature, he can hardly distinguish or disentangle the appeal to his

reason from the lure to his interests--here a text, and there a

dowry!--here Protestantism, there Jemima. Own, my friend, that the

soberest casuist would see double under the inebriating effects produced

by so mixing his polemical liquors. Appeal, my good Mr. Dale, from

Philip drunken to Philip sober!--from Riccabocca intoxicated with the

assurance of your excellent lady, that he is about to be "the happiest

of men," to Riccabocca accustomed to his happiness, and carrying it off

with the seasoned equability of one grown familiar with stimulants--in a

word, appeal from Riccabocca the wooer to Riccabocca the spouse. I may

be convertible, but conversion is a slow process; courtship should be a

quick one--ask Miss Jemima. _Finalmente_, marry me first, and convert me

afterward!"

"You take this too jestingly," began the Parson; "and I don't see why,

with your excellent understanding, truths so plain and obvious should

not strike you at once."

"Truths," interrupted Riccabocca profoundly, "are the slowest growing

things in the world! It took 1500 years from the date of the Christian

era to produce your own Luther, and then he flung his Bible at Satan (I

have seen the mark made by the book on the wall of his prison in

Germany), besides running off with a nun, which no Protestant clergyman

would think it proper and right to do nowadays." Then he added, with

seriousness, "Look you, my dear sir--I should lose my own esteem if I

were even to listen to you now with becoming attention--now, I say, when

you hint that the creed I have professed may be in the way of my

advantage. If so, I must keep the creed and resign the advantage. But

if, as I trust--not only as a Christian, but a man of honor--you will

defer this discussion, I will promise to listen to you hereafter; and

though, to say truth, I believe that you will not convert me, I will

promise you faithfully never to interfere with my wife's religion."

"And any children you may have?"

"Children!" said Dr. Riccabocca, recoiling--"you are not contented with

firing your pocket-pistol right in my face; you must also pepper me all

over with small-shot. Children! well, if they are girls, let them follow

the faith of their mother; and if boys, while in childhood, let them be

contented with learning to be Christians; and when they grow into men,

let them choose for themselves which is the best form for the practice

of the great principles which all sects have in common."

"But," began Mr. Dale again, pulling a large book from his pocket.

Dr. Riccabocca flung open the window, and jumped out of it.

It was the rapidest and most dastardly flight you could possibly

conceive; but it was a great compliment to the argumentative powers of

the Parson, and he felt it as such. Nevertheless, Mr. Dale thought it

right to have a long conversation, both with the Squire and Miss Jemima

herself, upon the subject which his intended convert had so

ignominiously escaped.

The Squire, though a great foe to Popery, politically considered, had

also quite as great a hatred to turn-coats and apostates. And in his

heart he would have despised Riccabocca if he could have thrown off his

religion as easily as he had done his spectacles. Therefore he said,

simply--"Well, it is certainly a great pity that Rickeybockey is not of

the Church of England, though, I take it, that would be unreasonable to

expect in a man born and bred under the nose of the Inquisition"--(the

Squire firmly believed that the Inquisition was in full force in all the

Italian states, with whips, racks, and thumb-screws; and, indeed, his

chief information of Italy was gathered from a perusal he had given in

early youth to _The One-Handed Monk_)--"but I think he speaks very

fairly, on the whole, as to his wife and children. And the thing's gone

too far now to retract. It is all your fault for not thinking of it

before; and I've now just made up my mind as to the course to pursue

respecting those d--d Stocks!"

As for Miss Jemima, the parson left her with a pious thanksgiving that

Riccabocca at least was a Christian, and not a Pagan, Mahometan, or Jew!

Harper's New Monthly Magazine, Vol. II, No. X., March 1851 · 第 15 / 18 章