Yet in them, an odd
contradiction, there lurked a possibility of humorous twinkling. The
man was capable perhaps of the broad tolerance of the great humorist,
certainly of very acute perception of life's minor incongruities. His
thin lips were habitually pressed together, giving a suggestion of
strength to the set of his mouth. A man with such a mouth can think and
act, but not feel either passionately or enduringly. He will direct men
because he knows his own mind, but is not likely to sway them because
he will always be master of himself, and will not become enslaved to
any great enthusiasm. The students trooped into the hall, and the
examination began. The assistant lecturers helped in the work. Each
student was called up in turn, asked a few questions, and given a
portion of the Greek Testament to translate. For the most part their
capacities were known beforehand. There were some who had won honours
in their University course before entering the divinity school. For
them the examiners were all smiles, and the business of the day was
understood to be perfunctory. Others were recognised as mere pass men,
whom it was necessary to spur to some exertion. A few, like Hyacinth,
were unknown. These were the poorer students who had not been able to
afford to reside at the University sooner than was absolutely necessary.
Their knowledge, generally scanty, was received by the examiners with
undisguised contempt. It fell to Hyacinth's lot to present himself to
Dr. Henry. He did so tremulously.

The professor inquired his name, and looked him over coldly.

'Read for me,' he said, handing him a Greek Testament. The passage
marked was St. Paul's great description of charity. It was very familiar
to Hyacinth, and he read it with a serious feeling for the words. Dr.
Henry, who at first had occupied himself with some figures on a sheet of
paper, looked up and listened attentively.

'Where were you at school,' he asked. 'Who taught you Greek?'

'My father taught me, sir.'

'Ah! You have got a very peculiar pronunciation, and you've made an
extraordinary number of mistakes in accentuation and quantity, but
you've read as if St. Paul meant something. Now translate.'

'You have given me,' he said, when Hyacinth had finished, 'the
Authorized Version word for word. Can you do no better than that?'

'I can do it differently,' said Hyacinth, 'not better.'

'Do you know any Greek outside of the New Testament?'

Hyacinth repeated a