CHAPTER VII.

CONTAINING MUCH OF THAT INFORMATION WHICH THE WISEST MEN IN THE
WORLD COULD NOT GIVE, BUT WHICH THE AUTHOR CAN.

"Darrell," said Colonel Morley, "you remember my nephew George as a boy?
He is now the rector of Humberston; married--a very nice sort of woman--
suits him Humberston is a fine living; but his talents are wasted there.
He preached for the first time in London last year, and made a
considerable sensation. This year he has been much out of town. He has
no church here as yet.

"I hope to get him one. Carr is determined that he shall be a Bisop.
Meanwhile he preaches at--Chapel tomorrow; come and hear him with me,
and then tell me frankly--is he eloquent or not?"

Darrell had a prejudice against fashionable preachers; but to please
Colonel Morley he went to hear George. He was agreeably surprised by the
pulpit oratory of the young divine. It had that rare combination of
impassioned earnestness with subdued tones, and decorous gesture, which
suits the ideal of ecclesiastical eloquence conceived by an educated
English Churchman

"Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full."

Occasionally the old defect in utterance was discernible; there was a
gasp as for breath, or a prolonged dwelling upon certain syllables,
which, occurring in the most animated passages, and apparently evincing
the preacher's struggle with emotion, rather served to heighen the
sympathy of the audience. But, for the most part, the original stammer