"Far be it from me to go into such subtleties," returned his lordship, stealing a glance at Disraeli's powerful face. "Your friend, at all events, has done for himself now. His merits seem to be more interesting than respectable, and this marriage has furnished conversation for the whole town--chiefly because Beauclerk Reckage was his best man. One cannot help feeling sorry for him, but it is certainly a very bad thing. How will he justify his rash conduct?" "He may think it unwise to be detailed in self-justification." "That is all well enough, and so far I am with you. In such circumstances, one doesn't want to tell a lie, and yet one doesn't want to tell the truth." "Well, there are many duties and difficulties in life: there is but one obligation--courage." He fixed his eyes on the fire blazing in the grate, and repeated the word with great emphasis--"Courage!" "He will need it. An unpleasant suggestion has been put forward by the lawyers." "Divorce?" said Disraeli. "Yes." "A Bishop was telling me the other day that when one attacks the principle of divorce one forgets that it was originally a Divine institution! But I agree with you--it is unpleasant. You will find that Orange won't hear of such a course. I see great dangers ahead for him, but I see no honourable way of avoiding them. When a man, careless of danger, unconcerned with profit, takes up the cause of God against the world, others may not follow, but they must admire him. Abstract sentiments of virtue do not charm me. Orange is a Roman Catholic, however, and therefore a practical idealist. The practical idealists of England are the Dissenters--mostly the Methodists. John Wesley was considered crack-brained by his contemporaries at Oxford; he was a greater mystic, in several ways, than Newman, but he was not such a poet." "I know nothing about Dissenters and that class. As for the Catholics--the few I am acquainted with are civil and sensible." "That is true. Most of the English Catholics imagine that St. Peter's and the Vatican can be maintained on the policy of a parish church in Mayfair! But one moment. There is Aumerle in the hall with a telegram. I wonder if he has any fresh news about poor Derby." [Footnote: Lord Derby was then lying at the point of death.] With this unimpeachable excuse he left his noble companion, who, more certain than ever that Disraeli could never be in touch with the upper classes of England, retired to his own room and wrote down in a journal all he could remember of their conversation.