Dr. Lavendar's face sobered. "No,"
he said, "he may be an Irvingite, but
he isn't a donkey."

"What on earth is an Irvingite,
anyhow?" William asked.

Dr. Lavendar looked at him, pityingly:
"William, you are so ridiculously
young! Well, I suppose you can't help
it. My boy, about the time you were
born, there was a man in London--
some folks called him a saint, and some
folks called him a fool; it's a way folks
have had ever since our Lord came into
this world. His name was Irving, and he
started a new sect." (Dr. Lavendar was
as open-minded as it is possible for one
of his Church to be, but even he said
"sect" when it came to outsiders.)

"He started this new sect, which believed
that the Holy Ghost would
speak again by human lips, just as
on the Day of Pentecost. Well, there
was 'speaking' in his congregation;
sort of outbursts of exhortation, you
know. Mostly unintelligible. I
remember Dr. Alexander said it was