"O, certainly, if you prefer it; only be pleased to observe that a
sentiment felt is a fact, and a fact is a truth, and a truth may
surely be expressed in a proposition. That is all I am anxious about
at present. If so far, at least, we may not patch up the divorce
which Mr. Newman has pronounced between the 'intellect and the 'soul,'
it is of no use for us to talk about the matter. I say that Lord
Herbert's articles--"

"There again, 'articles,'" said Fellowes; "I hate the word; I could
almost imagine that you were going to recite the formidable Thirty-nine."

"Rather, from your outcry, one would suppose I was about to inflict
the forty save one: but do not be alarmed. The articles neither of
Lord Herbert's creed nor of your own, I suspect, are thirty-nine, or
any thing like it. The catalogue will be soon exhausted."

"Here again, 'creed': I detest the word. We have no creed. Your very
language chills me. It reminds me of the dry orthodoxy of the 'letter,'
'logical processes,' 'intellectual propositions,' and so forth. Speak
of 'spiritual truths' and 'sentiments,' which are the product of
immediate 'insight,' of 'an insight into God,' a 'spontaneous impression
on the gazing soul,' to adopt Mr. Newman's beautiful expressions, and I
shall understand you."

"I am afraid I shall hardly understand myself then," cried Harrington.
"But let us not be scared by mere words, nor go into hysterics at the
sound of 'logic' and 'creed,' lest 'sentimental spirituality' be found,
like some other 'sentimental' things, a bundle of senseless affectations."

"But you forget that there is all the difference in the world between