"Cool! Must I listen coolly to downright nonsense--to dangerous nonsense? No. I like you very well, Mr. Yorke, as you know, but I thoroughly dislike some of your principles. All that cant--excuse me, but I repeat the word--all that _cant_ about soldiers and parsons is most offensive in my ears. All ridiculous, irrational crying up of one class, whether the same be aristocrat or democrat--all howling down of another class, whether clerical or military--all exacting injustice to individuals, whether monarch or mendicant--is really sickening to me; all arraying of ranks against ranks, all party hatreds, all tyrannies disguised as liberties, I reject and wash my hands of. _You_ think you are a philanthropist; _you_ think you are an advocate of liberty; but I will tell you this--Mr. Hall, the parson of Nunnely, is a better friend both of man and freedom than Hiram Yorke, the reformer of Briarfield."
From a man Mr. Yorke would not have borne this language very patiently, nor would he have endured it from some women; but he accounted Shirley both honest and pretty, and her plain-spoken ire amused him. Besides, he took a secret pleasure in hearing her defend her tenant, for we have already intimated he had Robert Moore's interest very much at heart. Moreover, if he wished to avenge himself for her severity, he knew the means lay in his power: a word, he believed, would suffice to tame and silence her, to cover her frank forehead with the rosy shadow of shame, and veil the glow of her eye under down-drooped lid and lash.

"Cool! Must I listen coolly to dangerous nonsense? No. I like you very well, Mr. Yorke, but I thoroughly dislike some of your principles. All that cant about soldiers and parsons is most offensive in my ears. All irrational crying up of one class, and howling down of another class, is really sickening to me; all arraying of ranks against ranks, all party hatreds, I reject. You think you are a philanthropist; you think you are an advocate of liberty; but I will tell you this - Mr. Hall is a better friend both of man and freedom than Hiram Yorke."
From a man Mr. Yorke would not have borne this language patiently, nor would he have endured it from some women; but he thought Shirley both honest and pretty, and her plain-spoken ire amused him. Besides, he took a secret pleasure in hearing her defend her tenant, for he had Robert Moore's interest at heart. If he wished to revenge himself for her severity, he knew how: a word, he believed, would tame and silence her, would cover her with the rosy shadow of shame, and make her drop her gaze.
