laughter, especially as I imagined one of our new "spiritual" doctors
ascending the pulpit under the new dispensation, to indulge in
exhortations to a keener chase, of this world, and "the things of
this world." I found afterwards similar thoughts were passing through
Harrington's mind, rendered more whimsical by the recollection that,
during college life, his friend (though very far from vicious)
had certainly never seemed to take any deficient interest in the
affairs of this world, nor to exhibit any predilection for an
ascetic life. Indeed, he acknowledged that, after all, he could not
sympathize with Mr. Newman's extreme sensitiveness in relation to
this matter. (See Phases, p. 205.)

Harrington answered, with proper gravity, "I am glad to find that
any undue austerity of character--of which, however, I assure you,
upon my honor, I never suspected you--has received so invaluable a
corrective. Still, it is obvious to remark, that, if the chief effect
of this new style of religion is to abate any excessive antipathy
which the New Testament has fostered, or was likely to foster, to
the attractions of this life, it has, I conceive, an easy task. I
never remarked in Christians any superfluous contempt of the present
world or its pleasures; any indication of an extravagant admiration
of any sublimer objects of pursuit. In truth, the tendencies of
human nature, as it appears to me, are so strong the other way, that
the strongest language of a hundred New Testaments would be little
heeded. Your corrective is something like that of a moralist who
should seriously prove that man was to take care that his appetites
and passions are duly indulged, of which ethical writers have, alas!
condescended to say but little, supposing that every body would feel
that there was no need of solemn counsels on such a subject. It
reminds one of the Christmas sermon mentioned in the 'Sketch Book,'