Fortunately, at the same moment, dinner was announced, and proving excellent, the conversation became almost cordial. When the dessert was put on the table, the squire sent his son off to order the post-horses for the next morning, while he undertook the conquest of Hogg. “You are a very different person, sir, from what I expected to find; you are a nice, moderate, reasonable, pleasant gentleman. Tell me what you think I ought to do with my poor boy? He is rather wild, is he not?” “Yes, rather.” “Then what am I to do?” “If he had married his cousin he would perhaps have been less so. . . . He wants somebody to take care of him; a good wife. What if he were married?” “But how can I do that? It is impossible. If I were to tell Bysshe to marry a girl he would refuse immediately. I know him so well.” “I have no doubt he would refuse if you were to order him to marry, and I should not blame him. But if you were to bring him in contact with some young lady who you believed would make him a suitable wife, without saying anything about marriage, perhaps he would take a fancy to her, and if he did not like her you could try another.” Mr. Graham, interposing, said it was an excellent plan, and the two men talking in low voices were going over a list of the young women of their acquaintance, when Shelley returned. His father ordered a bottle of a still older port than any they had yet had, and began to speak in praise of himself. He was so highly respected in the House of Commons: he was respected by the whole House and by the Speaker in particular, who said to him, “Mr. Shelley, I do not know what we should do without you.” He was greatly beloved in the county; he was an admirable Justice of the Peace; he told a very long story of how he had lately committed two poachers: “You know the fellows, Graham. You know what they are?” Graham assented. “Well, when they got out of prison one of them came and thanked me.” Why the poacher was so grateful for a pitiless sentence Hogg never knew, for the worthy magistrate, believing the wine to have by now produced its effect, attacked the principal subject of his thoughts. “There is certainly a God,” said he. “There can be no doubt of the existence of a Deity; none whatever.” Nobody present expressed any doubt. “You, sir,” said he, addressing himself to Hogg, “you have no doubt on the subject, have you?” “None whatever.” “If you have, I can prove it to you in a moment.” “But I have no doubt.” “Ah . . . still you might perhaps like to hear my argument?” “Very much.” “I will read it to you then.” He searched in all his pockets, pulling out various bills and letters, producing finally a half-sheet of note-paper, which he began to read. Bysshe, leaning forward, listened with profound attention. “I have heard this argument before,” said he, at the end of a few minutes, and turning to Hogg, “Where have I heard that?” “They are Paley’s arguments.”