"What book is that you are reading?" asked the minister sharply.
"It's not your bible, I'll be bound! You never got such notions
from it!"

He was angry with the presumptuous youth--and no wonder; for the
gospel the minister preached was a gospel but to the slavish and
unfilial.

"It's Shelley," answered Donal, recovering himself.

The minister had never read a word of Shelley, but had a very
decided opinion of him. He gave a loud rude whistle.

"So! that's where you go for your theology! I was puzzled to
understand you, but now all is plain! Young man, you are on the
brink of perdition. That book will poison your very vitals!"

"Indeed, sir, it will never go deep enough for that! But it came
near touching them as I sat eating my bread and cheese."

"He's an infidel!" said the minister fiercely.

"A kind of one," returned Donal, "but not of the worst sort. It's
the people who call themselves believers that drive the like of poor
Shelley to the mouth of the pit."

"He hated the truth," said the minister.

"He was always seeking after it," said Donal, "though to be sure he