"I hope I have. And one of them is, not to make mountains of
molehills; for a molehill is not a mountain. A man ought to have too
much to do in obeying his conscience and keeping his soul's garments
clean, to mind whether he wears black or white when telling his
flock that God loves them, and that they will never be happy till
they believe it."

"They may believe that too soon."

"I don't think any one can believe the truth too soon."

A pause followed, during which it became evident to me that Miss
Gladwyn saw fun in the whole affair, and was enjoying it thoroughly.
Mrs Oldcastle's face, on the contrary, was illegible. She resumed in
a measured still voice, which she meant to be meek, I daresay, but
which was really authoritative--

"I am sorry, Mr Walton, that your principles are so loose and
unsettled. You will see my honesty in saying so when you find that,
objecting to the surplice, as I do, on Protestant grounds, I yet
warn you against making any change because you may discover that
your parishioners are against it. You have no idea, Mr Walton, what
inroads Radicalism, as they call it, has been making in this
neighbourhood. It is quite dreadful. Everybody, down to the poorest,
claiming a right to think for himself, and set his betters right!
There's one worse than any of the rest--but he's no better than an
atheist--a carpenter of the name of Weir, always talking to his
neighbours against the proprietors and the magistrates, and the
clergy too, Mr Walton, and the game-laws; and what not? And if you
once show them that you are afraid of them by going a step out of