“Have not all heretics the same pretence To plead the Scriptures in their own defence? How did the Nicene Council then decide That strong debate? Was it by Scripture tried? No, sure; to that the rebel would not yield: Squadrons of texts _he_ marshall’d in the field. ... With texts point-blank and plain he faced the foe; And did not Satan tempt our Saviour so?” A Dublin synod of the Irish Roman Catholic bishops, a few years since, which distinguished itself by its enthusiasm for Pope Pius IX., against the King of Italy, and by its arrogation of a divine right of practical monopoly in overseeing the schools and colleges of Ireland, was made the theme of comment by unsympathetic British critics; who remarked that when the question of education is stirred in such quarters, the dullest heretic can divine that the national system is to be denounced; and that it is easy to guess at the text of Scripture to be quoted in support of the pretensions of the Church. “The command to ‘go and teach all nations’ vested in the successors of the Apostles a rightful monopoly of instruction in Greek, mathematics, and civil engineering.” According to the same elastic authority, the “Puritans,” we are reminded, were justified in shooting and hanging their enemies, because Samuel hewed Agag in pieces, or because Phineas arose and executed judgment. “There never was a proposition which could not be proved by a text; and perhaps the effect is more complete when the citation is taken from the Vulgate.” Gray’s malicious lines against Lord Sandwich, a notorious evil-liver, as candidate for the High Stewardship in the University of Cambridge, include this stanza, supposed to be uttered by a representative D.D., of the old port-wine school, and a staunch supporter of his profligate lordship: “Did not Israel filch from th’ Egyptians of old Their jewels of silver and jewels of gold? The prophet of Bethel, we read, told a lie; He[2] drinks—so did Noah:—he swears—so do I.” Gray’s _jeu d’esprit_ was, throughout, not in the best of taste; but it was vastly relished at the time, as an election squib. The reference to spoiling the Egyptians is a well worked one in the history of quotations. Coleridge has a story of a Mameluke Bey, whose “precious logic” extorted a large contribution from the Egyptian Jews. “These books, the Pentateuch, are authentic?” “Yes.” “Well, the debt then is acknowledged: and now the receipt, or the money, or your heads! The Jews borrowed a large treasure from the Egyptians; but you are the Jews, and on you, therefore, I call for the repayment.” Such conclusions, from such premises, and backed by such vouchers, are open to logicians of every order, sacred and profane.