Religion is to be felt, not proved. There are a great many things in
the religion of a good man which are not in the catechism. Proof!"
continued my uncle, growing violent--"Proof, sir, is a low, vulgar,
levelling, rascally Jacobin; Belief is a loyal, generous, chivalrous
gentleman! No, no; prove what you please, you shall never rob me of one
belief that has made me--"

"The finest-hearted creature that ever talked nonsense," said my father,
who came up, like Horace's deity, at the right moment. "What is it you
must believe in, brother, no matter what the proof against you?"

My uncle was silent, and with great energy dug the point of his cane
into the gravel.

"He will not believe in our great ancestor the printer," said I,
maliciously.

My father's calm brow was overcast in a moment. "Brother," said the
Captain, loftily, "you have a right to your own ideas; but you should
take care how they contaminate your child."

"Contaminate!" said my father, and for the first time I saw an angry
sparkle flash from his eyes; but he checked himself on the instant.
"Change the word, my dear brother."

"No, sir, I will not change it! To belie the records of the family!"

"Records! A brass plate in a village church against all the books of
the College of Arms!"