"It looks like a book of magic." "On the contrary," replied the laird, "it is a religious book of the very best sort." "Oh, indeed! Ah! I have no objection to a little religion--in its own place.

There it is all right.

I never was one of those mockers--those Jacobins, those sans-culottes! Arrogant fools they always seemed to me!" "Would your lordship like to hear a little of the book, then ?" "No, no; by no means! Things sacred ought not to be mixed up with things common--with such an uncommon bottle of wine, for instance.
I dictate to no one, but for my own part I keep my religion for church.

That is the proper place for it, and there you are in the mood for it.

Do not mistake me; it is out of respect I decline." He drank, and the laird dropt back into the depths of his volume.
The night wore on.