and teaching. He is doing the best he
can; and what a life of it he has. He has literally thrown off all
worldly cares--and, consequently, everybody laughs at him, and nobody
loves him. I don't believe a better man breathes, but I shouldn't like
his life."

At this point there was another pause, which lasted till the cigars had
come to an end. Then, as he threw the stump into the fire, Mr. Clavering
spoke again. "The truth is, Harry, that you have had, all your life, a
bad example before you."

"No, father."

"Yes, my son; let me speak on to the end, and then you can say what you
please. In me you have had a bad example on one side, and now, in poor
Saul, you have a bad example on the other side. Can you fancy no life
between the two, which would fit your physical nature, which is larger
than his, and your mental wants, which are higher than mine? Yes, they
are, Harry. It is my duty to say this, but it would be unseemly that
there should be any controversy between us on the subject."

"If you choose to stop me in that way--"

"I do choose to stop you in that way. As for Saul, it is impossible that
you should become such a man as he. It is not that he mortifies his
flesh, but that he has no flesh to mortify. He is unconscious of the
flavor of venison, or the scent of roses, or the beauty of women. He is
an exceptional specimen of a man, and you need no more fear, than you
should venture to hope, that you could become such as he is."

At this point they were interrupted by the entrance of Fanny Clavering,
who came to say that Mr. Saul was in the drawing room. "What does he
want, Fanny?"

This question Mr. Clavering asked half in a whisper, but with something
of comic humor in his face, as though partly afraid that Mr. Saul should
hear it, and partly intending to convey a wish that he might escape Mr.
Saul, if it were possible.

"It's about the iron church, papa. He says it is come--or part of it
has, come--and he wants you to go out to Cumberly Green about the site."

"I thought that was all settled."

"He says not."

"What does it matter where it is? He can put it anywhere he likes on the
Green. However, I had better go to him." So Mr. Clavering went. Cumberly
Green was a hamlet in the parish of Clavering, three miles distant from
the church, the people of which had got into a wicked habit of going to
a dissenting chapel near to them. By Mr. Saul's energy, but chiefly out
of Mr. Clavering's purse, an iron c