“Nay, but hear me.  I conceive that nothing could be more natural, as several of our writers have remarked, than the injunctions of the Apostles to the primitive Christians to despise the world, and so forth, under the impression of that great mistake they had fallen into, that the world was about to tumble to pieces, and——­”

“I am not sure,” said Harrington, who seemed resolved to evince a scepticism provoking enough, “that they did make the mistake, on your principles.  For I know not, nor you either, whether the expressions on which you found the supposition be not amongst the voluminous additions with which you are pleased to suppose their simple and genuine ‘utterances’ have been corrupted.  But, leaving you to discuss that point, if you like, with my uncle here, I must deny that the mistake, supposing it one, makes any thing in relation to our present discussion.  You say that the Apostles did well and naturally to inculcate a light grasp on the world, on the supposition that it was about to pass away; and therefore, I suppose, you (under a similar impression) would do the same; if so, ought you not still to do it? for can it make any conceivable difference to the wisdom or the folly of such exhortations, whether the world passes away from us, or we pass away from the world?—­ whether it ‘tumbles to pieces,’ as you express it, or (which is too certain) we tumble to pieces?  I think, therefore, your same comfortable theology cannot be justified, if you justify the conduct of the Apostles under their impression, let it be ever so erroneous.  You ought to feel the same sentiments; you being, to all practical purposes, under a precisely similar impression.”

Fellowes looked as if he were a little vexed at having thus hypothetically justified the conduct of the Apostles.

But he was not without his answer, adopted from Mr. Newman.  “Yes,” said he, “practically, no doubt, death is the end of the world to us; but to urge this,—­what is it, as Mr. Newman says, but abominable selfishness preached as religion’?  If we are to labor for posterity, will not our work remain, though we die?  But if the world is to perish in fifty years, or a century, what then?”

“Far be it from me,” said Harrington, “to compete with your spiritual philanthropy, which, doubtless, will not be content to work unless under a lease of a million of years.  I suppose even if you thought the would come to an end in a hundred years, (and really I have no proof that the Apostles thought it would end sooner,—­they spoke of their death as coming first,) you would not think it worth while to do any thing; the welfare of your children and grandchildren would appear far too paltry for so ambitious a benevolence as yours!  Most people—­Christians, sceptics, or otherwise—­are contented to aim at the welfare of his generation and the next, and think as little of their great-great-grandchildren as of their great-great-grandfathers.  That little