ny must preach in that fashion," said Bramleigh, with a
deep but subdued earnestness. "I take it that no man's convictions are
without a flaw somewhere, and it is not by parading that flaw he will
make converts."

L'Estrange did not feel disposed to follow him into this thesis, and sat
silent and motionless.

"I suppose," muttered Bramleigh, as he folded his arms and walked the
room with slow steps, "it's all expediency,--all! We do the best we can,
and hope it may be enough. You are a good man, L'Estrange--"

"Far from it, sir. I feel, and feel very bitterly, too, my own
unworthiness," said the curate, with an intense sincerity of voice.

"I think you so far good that you are not worldly. You would not do a
mean thing, an ignoble, a dishonest thing; you would n't take what was
not your own, nor defraud another of what was his,--would you?"

"Perhaps not; I hope not."

"And yet that is saying a great deal. I may have my doubts whether
that penknife be mine or not. Some one may come to-morrow or next day to
claim it as his, and describe it, Heaven knows how rightly or wrongly.
No matter, he 'll say he owns it. Would you, sir,--I ask you now simply
as a Christian man, I am not speaking to a casuist or a lawyer,--would
you, sir, at once, just as a measure of peace to your own conscience,
say, 'Let him take,' rather than burden your heart with a discussion for
which you had no temper nor taste? That's the question I 'd like to ask
you. Can you answer it? I see you cannot," cried he, rapidly. "I see at
once how you want to go off into a thousand subtleties, and instead of
resolving my one doubt, surround me with a legion of others."

"If I know anything about myself I 'm not much of a casuist; I haven't
the brains for it," said L'Estrange, with a sad smile.

"Ay, there it is. That 's the humility of Satan's own making; that's the
humility that exclaims, 'I'm only honest. I 'm no genius. Heaven has not
made me great or gifted. I 'm simply a poor creature, right-minded and
pure-hearted.' As if there was anything,--as if there could be anything
so exalted as this same purity."

"But I never said that; I never presumed to say so," said the other,
modestly.

"And if you rail against riches, and tell me that wealth is a snare and
a pitfall, what do you mean by telling me that my reverse of fortune
is a chastisement? Why, sir, by your own theory it ought to be a
blessing,--a positive blessing; so that if I were turned ou