other meal to which some said a grace. The man has not an atom of
consistency in his nature. He will say and unsay as fast as one sentence
can follow the other, and if you tax him with it, he will support both
sides: at least, that is my experience with him. I speak as I find him."

"What then would you have me do?" said the rector. "The straightforward
way would doubtless be to go to him."

"You would, I fear, gain nothing by that. He is so specious! The only
safe way is to dismiss him without giving a reason. Otherwise, he will
certainly prove you in the wrong. Don't take my word. Get the opinion of
your church-wardens. Every body knows he has made an atheist of poor
Faber. It is sadder than I have words to say. He _was_ such a
gentlemanly fellow!"

The rector took his departure, and made a series of calls upon those he
judged the most influential of the congregation. He did not think to ask
for what they were influential, or why he should go to them rather than
the people of the alms-house. What he heard embarrassed him not a
little. His friends spoke highly of Wingfold, his enemies otherwise: the
character of his friends his judge did not attempt to weigh with that of
his enemies, neither did he attempt to discover why these were his
enemies and those his friends. No more did he make the observation,
that, while his enemies differed in the things they said against him,
his friends agreed in those they said for him; the fact being, that
those who did as he roused their conscience to see they ought, more or
less understood the man and his aims; while those who would not submit
to the authority he brought to bear upon them, and yet tried to measure
and explain him after the standards of their own being and endeavors,
failed ludicrously. The church-wardens told him that, ever since he