‘Because I have been his faithful servant for five-and-thirty years, and because he knows it. For five-and-thirty years! And he knows it, mind you! I got those words that I wanted on account of my wages. I got ’em from the Lord, my fellow-sinners. Down! I said, “Here’s a heap of wages due; let us have something down, on account.” And I got it down, and I paid it over to you; and you won’t wrap it up in a napkin, nor yet in a towel, nor yet pocketankercher, but you’ll put it out at good interest. Very well. Now, my brothers and sisters and fellow-sinners, I am going to conclude with a question, and I’ll make it so plain (with the help of the Lord, after five-and-thirty years, I should rather hope!) as that the Devil shall not be able to confuse it in your heads,—which he would be overjoyed to do.’ (‘Just his way. Crafty old blackguard!’ from Brother Gimblet.) ‘And the question is this, Are the angels learned?’ (‘Not they. Not a bit on it!’ from Brother Gimblet, with the greatest confidence.) ‘Not they. And where’s the proof? sent ready-made by the hand of the Lord. Why, there’s one among us here now, that has got all the learning that can be crammed into him. _I_ got him all the learning that could be crammed into him. His grandfather’ (this I had never heard before) ‘was a brother of ours. He was Brother Parksop. That’s what he was. Parksop; Brother Parksop. His worldly name was Parksop, and he was a brother of this brotherhood. Then wasn’t he Brother Parksop?’ (‘Must be. Couldn’t help hisself!’ from Brother Gimblet.) ‘Well, he left that one now here present among us to the care of a brother-sinner of his (and that brother-sinner, mind you, was a sinner of a bigger size in his time than any of you; praise the Lord!), Brother Hawkyard. Me. _I_ got him without fee or reward,—without a morsel of myrrh, or frankincense, nor yet amber, letting alone the honeycomb,—all the learning that could be crammed into him. Has it brought him into our temple, in the spirit? No. Have we had any ignorant brothers and sisters that didn’t know round O from crooked S, come in among us meanwhile? Many. Then the angels are _not_ learned; then they don’t so much as know their alphabet. And now, my friends and fellow-sinners, having brought it to that, perhaps some brother present—perhaps you, Brother Gimblet—will pray a bit for us?’