The morning after his return to London he went to the office, and on entering every one arose to offer his congratulations; but Mr. Gordon exceeded all in the ardour of his expressions. "This," said he, "is one of the happiest days of my life, and I adore the fate which has decreed that death shall lose a victim to restore me my friend." "I adore the mercy," replied Lewellin, "that has spared my life; and I trust, my dear Sir, that my friendship will now be a purer flame than ever burnt on the altar of my heart." This reply created a little embarrassment to Mr. Gordon; but he soon got over it, and resumed his accustomed vivacity of disposition and ease of manners. In the evening they walked away together, when Lewellin informed him that a material change had taken place in his sentiments and in his taste; and that if he wished for a renewal of their former intimacy, it must be on the express condition of paying a most devout regard to the truths and institutions of revelation. "What," said Gordon, "are you again enslaved in the trammels of superstition; and do you expect that I shall bow my neck to such an ignominious yoke!" "What you deem the yoke of ignominy, I esteem the badge of honour; and what you deem a cunningly devised fable, I esteem Divine truth. You won me over to your sentiments, and what did they do for me? They impaired my health. They tore up the foundation of a good constitution, and they plunged me into despair. I lived a sceptic, but I found that I could not die one. I am now restored to health, to truth, to happiness; and it is my determination to consecrate myself to the service of God my Saviour." "Ah, I pity you." "Pity me! Pity is for objects of misery; and had you seen me when the terrors of death fell on me, you might have pitied me: but now I want no pity, for I am perfectly happy; happy, because redeemed and regenerated; and have the prospect of enjoying a state of endless happiness in the world to come. "Then, I suppose, in future our office is to become the hot-bed of fanaticism, where the rank weeds of an ancient superstition are to overshade the lovely plants of reason's golden age?" "As I shall not obtrude my religious sentiments on the attention of others, you may calculate on passing through your professional duties without being annoyed, unless you first attack them; and in that case, I shall certainly stand up in their defence." "Well, well, that is all very fair. Then, if I do not commence the assault, you will not open your battery." "It will be my aim to make myself agreeable, and to recommend my religion more by my example than by my arguments; because I know how you will evade the one, but it is not quite certain that even _you_ can withstand the other. "Ah, I see you resolve to play off upon me in the same way in which I triumphed over you, and I have no objection for the experiment to be tried; but it will not succeed."