"Come, now, do you believe in these relics, or do you not?"
"I believe in my own, not in theirs, of course,—I have here the shoulder-blade of St. Diétrine, a sovereign cure for the scurvy, and the skull of St. Etoupe, which drives devils out of the sheep.—Now what are you jeering at? I tell you I have documents here, signed parchments, to prove the truth of what I say; if you do not believe me, I will go and fetch them."
"Sit down, old man, I don't want to see your documents; now, Chamaille, honor bright, you have no more faith in these things than I have, I can see it in your eye. A bone is a bone, no matter where it comes from, and you are an idolater if you adore it. Everything has its place in this world, and corpses should stay in the graveyard; so for my part I believe in life, in the light of day. I know that I live and think—very clearly too,—I know also that two and two make four, and that the earth is a fixed star hung in infinite space. — I believe in our local customs, and could recite the whole list of them to you. Then there are books where man's knowledge and experience are distilled drop by drop! I believe firmly in them. Above all I trust my own understanding, and like any wise
