difficulty--in fact it was not in his power--to subscribe generally to our
little funds, and--and objects, and I used to say to him, and I really felt
it, that it was more gratifying, such were his feeling and his power of
expression, to be refused by him than assisted by others.'

'Did papa wish you to speak to me about my uncle?' I enquired, as a sudden
thought struck me; and then I felt half ashamed of my question.

He looked surprised.

'No, Miss Ruthyn, certainly not. Oh dear, no. It was merely a conversation
between Mr. Ruthyn and me. He never suggested my opening that, or indeed
any other point in my interview with you, Miss Ruthyn--not the least.'

'I was not aware before that Uncle Silas was so religious.'

He smiled tranquilly, not quite up to the ceiling, but gently upward, and
shook his head in pity for my previous ignorance, as he lowered his eyes--

'I don't say that there may not be some little matters in a few points of
doctrine which we could, perhaps, wish otherwise. But these, you know,
are speculative, and in all essentials he is Church--not in the perverted
modern sense; far from it--unexceptionably Church, strictly so. Would there
were more among us of the same mind that is in him! Ay, Miss Ruthyn, even
in the highest places of the Church herself.'

The Rev. William Fairfield, while fighting against the Dissenters with his
right hand, was, with his left, hotly engaged with the Tractarians. A good
man I am sure he was, and I dare say sound in doctrine, though naturally, I
think, not very wise. This conversation with him gave me new ideas about my