"No," replied the vicar, shaking his head, "not at all. I cannot move these people. I try all I can; I have done every thing possible, but they prefer to go to that wretched chapel, and to hear such men as Pengelly. Trethick, I speak to you as a man of the world," he continued, growing each moment more earnest, and his face flushing. "I am in despair; that is why I came to you, whom I know to be disappointed, as I am myself. I cannot get at these people's hearts. I yearn to do good amongst them, but I cannot stir them, while you seem to touch them to the core. If I announced that you would preach to them next week, the place would be thronged; as it is, it is nearly empty. Why is this?" "Because I am the sinner, you the saint," said Geoffrey, bitterly. "There, don't look shocked, man; it is because you are too clever--too scholarly with them; you put on the priest's garment, and with it the priest's mask, and completely hide your nature. Let them know your profession by your ways, sir, and not by your cassock. I believe you are a good fellow at heart. Your words now prove it; but you have grown so full of belief in form and ceremony that you think them all in all. Why, Lee," he cried, lighting up, "I could get these people to follow me like dogs." "Yes," said the vicar, sadly; "but they shun me." "No," said Geoffrey; "I am boasting. But still I believe I could move them. Look here, Lee, you are in earnest over this?" "Earnest?" cried the other. "I'd give any thing to win them to my side." "Then be more of a man, less of a priest. Don't draw such a line of distinction between you. Mix with them more. Never mind the long cassock and ritualistic hat. Take more interest in their pursuits, and let them feel how much your nature, however polished, is like theirs." "I will, Trethick. Yes, you are right. I am sure you are right." "I believe--I hope I am," said Geoffrey. "I am sure of it," cried the vicar; "and I see now how unsuited much of my teaching has been. But now about yourself, Trethick, let me begin by being more human, and helping you." "How can you help me?" said Geoffrey, bitterly. "I am a hopeless bankrupt in pocket and morals, so the world says; and I am cut off from all that I looked forward to with happiness. Why don't you be up and doing, man, as I told you?" he cried, with a mocking devil in his eyes; "the way is open--go and win the race." "I do not understand you," said the vicar, sadly. "Don't understand? You know you loved Rhoda Penwynn." "I did love her--very dearly," said the vicar, simply. "And not now?" He shook his head. "Miss Penwynn would never have cared for me," he said, quietly; "I soon learned that. These things are a mystery, Trethick. Don't speak of that any more. It hurts me." Geoffrey nodded.