So, although it would have been pleasanter to be silent, I felt that I was bound to speak.
So I said, "Mr. Fetherston, isn't it all a matter of evidence?"
Fetherston. Evidence! And pray on what evidence would you believe such a story as that which we have just heard?
Easterley. Upon the statement on the honour of any sane man that I knew and trusted: how I might account for it is another matter.
Fetherston. If a man whom I knew and trusted told me such a story on his honour I should trust him no longer, and I should believe him to be either insane or dishonest.
Easterley. Suppose that ten men whom you knew and trusted agreed in telling you the same story?
Fetherston (with a slight laugh). Then I should begin to suspect that I had gone mad myself, but I should never believe it.
Easterly. Yet you believe a story which is nearly two thousand years old and which is full of mystery from beginning to end: the story of a man who was born mysteriously, who exercised mysterious powers during his life, and after death by violence lived again mysteriously, and at last left this world mysteriously.
