"Bah! Newton directed his gaze upwards into a mighty and stupendous region, and he was awe-stricken--as who shall not be?--by what he there beheld. He worshipped the unseen power, so does this man; he believed in Revelation, so does he; but with him--it is the revelation which is made in that wondrous firmament above, and in the earth beneath, and in the glories that surround us. What knowledge had Newton of geology? what of chemistry? what of the facts which they have brought to light?" "Little perhaps--yet"---- "My good friend," continued the surgeon, interrupting me. "In the days of your grand _philosophe_--would that he were alive now!--there were no physical phenomena to reduce an ancient system of cosmogony to a mere absurdity--no palpable evidences of the existence of this earth thousands of years prior to its formation--you perceive?" "I hear you, sir," I answered, gaining courage; "but I should, indeed, be sorry to adopt your views." "Of course you would!" said the baron, curling his inauspicious lip, and giving expression to a feeling that looked very like one of contempt or ridicule. "You come from the land of melancholy and bile--where your holidays are fasts, and your day of rest is one of unmitigated toil. You would be sorry to forego, no doubt, the prospect of everlasting torture and eternal condemnation. Mr Z---- is too far advanced for you, I am afraid." At this moment there was a knock at the door leading into the bed-chamber. The servant-man of the baron presented himself, and announced a patient. "Admit him," said the surgeon, and at the same time I rose to depart. "Adieu!" said the baron with another unpleasant smile; "we shall be very good friends notwithstanding your piety. I shall look after you. Remember six o'clock to-morrow morning at the Hotel Dieu. Be punctual, and do you hear, Mr Walpole, think of me in your prayers."