but to treat my friends with civility and govern my
behaviour by the principles of honesty and honour. Providence hath
deigned to rescue me from this abyss, and I direct my conduct since my
conversion by the admonitions the Director of my conscience gives me.
But I have been so light-minded and thoughtless as not to seek his
advice on this question of New Year's gifts. What you tell me of them,
sir, with the authority of a man alike admirable for sober living and
sound doctrine, amazes and confounds me."

"Nay! that is indeed what I mean to do," resumed M. Spon,--"to confound
you, and to illumine you, not indeed by my own lights, which burn
feebly, but by those of a great Doctor. Sit you down on that wayside
post."

And pushing M. Chanterelle into the archway of a carriage gate, where
he made himself as easy as circumstances allowed, M. Spon drew from his
pocket a little parchment-bound book, which he opened, and after hunting
through the pages, lighted on a passage which he proceeded to read
out loud amid a gaping circle of chimney-sweeps, chamber-maids, and
scullions who had collected at the resounding tones of his voice:

"'We who hold in abhorrence the festivals of the Jews, and who would
deem strange and outlandish their Sabbaths and New Moons and other Holy
Days erst loved of the Almighty, we deal familiarly with the Saturnalia
and the Calends of January, with the Matronalia and the Feast of the
Winter Solstice; New Year's gifts and foolish presents fill all our
thoughts; merrymakings and junketings are in every house. The Heathens
guard their religion better; they are heedful to observe none of our
Feasts, for fear of being taken for Christians, while we never hesitate
to make ourselves look like Heathens by celebrating their Ceremonial
Days.'

"You hear what I say," went on M. Spon. "'T is Tertullian speaks in this
wise and from the depths of Africa displays before your eyes, sir, the
odiousness of your behaviour. He it is upbraids you, declaring how 'New
Year's gifts and foolish presents fill all your thoughts. You keep
holy the feasts of the Heathen.' I have not the honour to know your
Confessor. But I shudder, sir, to think of the way he neglects his duty
toward you. Tell me this, can you rest assured that at the day of your
death, when you come to stand before God, he will be at your side, to
take upon him the sins he hath suffered you to fall into?"

After haranguing in this sort, he put back his book