exist, and their whole attention was absorbed upon their chances of
getting wealthy congregations or of making desirable matches. It was a
time in which the world outside was seething with the ferment which had
been cast into it by Germany and by those in England whom Germany had
influenced, but not a fragment of it had dropped within our walls. I
cannot call to mind a single conversation upon any but the most trivial
topics, nor did our talk ever turn even upon our religion, so far as it
was a thing affecting the soul, but upon it as something subsidiary to
chapels, "causes," deacons, and the like.

The emptiness of some of my colleagues, and their worldliness, too,
were almost incredible. There was one who was particularly silly. He
was a blond youth with greyish eyes, a mouth not quite shut, and an
eternal simper upon his face. He never had an idea in his head, and
never read anything except the denominational newspapers and a few
well-known aids to sermonising. He was a great man at all tea-
meetings, anniversaries, and parties. He was facile in public
speaking, and he dwelt much upon the joys of heaven and upon such
topics as the possibility of our recognising one another there. I have
known him describe for twenty minutes, in a kind of watery rhetoric,
the passage of the soul to bliss through death, and its meeting in the
next world with those who had gone before.

With all his weakness he was close and mean in money matters, and when
he left college, the first thing he did was to marry a widow with a
fortune. Before long he became one of the most popular of ministers in
a town much visited by sick persons, with whom he was an especial
favourite. I disliked him--and specially disliked his unpleasant
behaviour to women. If I had been a woman, I should have spurned him
for his perpetual insult of inane compliments. He was always dawdling