Some, he said, had done worse than be lax in manners; some had presumed to have revelations; some had doubted the faith.
Here Darling paused, feeling sure of rousing Smith to the mood he desired.
At the mention of revelations Smith's soul took a turn, like a ball on its axis; the plain speech that he had been using about business and stores and accounts changed into phraseology of a Scriptural cast, and the shrewd glance of his blue eye into a more distraught and distant look.

Heretofore, as Darling well knew, heresy had been a greater evil in his eyes than any other; but Smith had come now out of long months of prison; days and nights in which a horrible death had faced him closely had not passed over this particular soul of his dreams without moulding it.

It is noticed by all his historians that after this period he spoke little "by revelation," in comparison with his former full habit in this respect.

At Darling's abrupt speech he sighed heavily.

He looked, not at Darling as before, but at some vague object beyond him.
"There is one lawgiver who is able to save and to destroy," he said wearily, and then, gathering himself up with more pompous unction, he asked of the surprised Darling, "Who art thou that judgest another ?" Darling had grown fatter since he came to Quincy; the lines of haggard care were still upon his face, but were modified by dimples of good cheer.