 in upon the
knaves with three bullets instead of one, and that would have made a finish of
the whole pack; yon lopeing varlet, as well as his commerades. But 'twas all
fore-ordered, and for the best!«
    »Thou sayest well,« returned David, »and has caught the true spirit of
christianity. He that is to be saved will be saved, and he that is predestined
to be damned will be damned! This is the doctrine of truth, and most consoling
and refreshing it is to the true believer.«
    The scout, who by this time was seated, examining into the state of his
rifle with a species of parental assiduity, now looked up at the other in a
displeasure that he did not affect to conceal, roughly interrupting further
speech.
    »Doctrine, or no doctrine,« said the sturdy woodsman, »'tis the belief of
knaves, and the curse of an honest man! I can credit that yonder Huron was to
fall by my hand, for with my own eyes have I seen it; but nothing short of being
a witness, will cause me to think he has met with any reward, or that
Chingachgook, there, will be condemned at the final day.«
    »You have no warranty for such an audacious doctrine, nor any covenant to
support it,« cried David, who was deeply tinctured with the subtle distinctions,
which, in his time, and more especially in his province, had been drawn around
the beautiful simplicity of revelation, by endeavouring to penetrate the awful
mystery of the divine nature, supplying faith by self-sufficiency, and by
consequence, involving those who reasoned from such human dogmas in absurdities
and doubt; »your temple is reared on the sands, and the first tempest will wash
away its foundation. I demand your authorities for such an uncharitable
assertion; (like other advocates of a system, David was not always accurate in
his use of terms.) Name chapter and verse; in which of the holy books do you
find language to support you?«
    »Book!« repeated Hawk-eye, with singular and ill-concealed disdain; »do you
take me for a whimpering boy, at the apron string of one of your old gals; and
this good rifle on my knee for the feather of a goose's wing, my ox's horn for a
bottle of ink, and my leathern pouch for a cross-barred hand-kercher to carry my
dinner! Book! what have such as I, who am a warrior of the wilderness, though
