‘My dear boy, I’m not going to let you trap me into a discussion of that question. Theoretically, I have no doubt you would make out an excellent case. National Church, National spirit, National politics--Irish Church, Irish nation, Irish ideas. They all go excellently together, don’t they? And yet the facts are as I state them. A Nationalist clergyman in the Church of Ireland would be just as impossible as an English Nonconformist in the Court of Louis Quatorze. After all, in this life one has got to steer one’s course among facts, and they’re sharp things which knock holes in the man who disregards them. Now, what I propose to you is this: Put off your ordination for three years or so. Take up schoolmastaring. I will undertake to get you a post in an English school. Your politics won’t matter over there, because no one will in the least understand what you mean. Work hard, think hard, read hard. Mix with the bigger world across the Channel. See England and realize what England is and what her Empire means. Don’t be angry with me for saying that, long before the three years are over, you’ll have come to see that what you call patriotism is nothing else than parochialism of a particularly narrow and uninstructed kind. Then come back here to me, and I’ll arrange for your ordination. You’ll do the best of good work when you’ve grown up a bit, and I’ll see you a Bishop before I die.’ ‘I shall always be grateful to you,’ said Hyacinth. ‘I shall never forget your kindness, and the way you’ve treated me; but I can’t do what you ask.’ ‘Oh, I’m not going to take no for an answer,’ said Dr. Henry. ‘Go home to the West and think it over. Talk to your father about your future. Write to me if you like about your plans, and remember my offer is open six months or a year hence. You’ll be the same man then that you are now--I mean, in character. I’m not afraid of your turning out badly. You may think wrong-headedly, but I’m sure you’ll not act disgracefully.’ CHAPTER VII