"Bate not a jot of heart or hope, But steer right onward," was a problem which Frank longed curiously, and yet fearfully withal, to solve. There were many qualities in him which Frank could not but admire, and long to imitate; and, "Whence had they come?" was another problem at which he looked, trembling as many a new thought crossed him. He longed, too, to learn from Tom somewhat at least of that savoir faire, that power of "becoming all things to all men," which St. Paul had; and for want of which Frank had failed. He saw, too, with surprise, that Tom had gained in one month more real insight into the characters of his parishioners than he had done in twelve; and besides all, there was the craving of the lonely heart for human confidence and friendship. So it befell that Frank spoke out his inmost thought that day, and thought no shame; and it befell also, that Thurnall, when he heard it, said in his heart-- "What a noble, honest fellow you are, when you--" But he answered enigmatically. "Oh, I quite agree with you that Grace has nothing to do with it. I only referred it to that source because I thought you would do so." "You ought to be ashamed of your dishonesty, then." "I know it; but my view of the case is, that you rush out after dinner for the very same reason that the Yankee storekeeper does--from--You'll forgive me if I say it?" "Of course. You cannot speak too plainly to me." "Conceit; the Yankee fancies himself such an important person, that the commercial world will stand still unless he flies back to its help after ten minutes' gobbling, with his month full of pork and pickled peaches. And you fancy yourself so important in your line, that the spiritual world will stand still unless you bolt back to help it in like wise. Substitute a half-cooked mutton chop for the pork, and the cases are exact parallels." "Your parallel does not hold good, Doctor. The Yankee goes back to his store to earn money for himself, and not to keep commerce alive." "While you go for utterly disinterested motives.--I see." "Do you?" said Frank. "If you think that I fancy myself a better man than the Yankee, you mistake me: but at least you will confess that I am not working for money." "No; you have your notions of reward, and he has his. He wants to be paid by material dollars, payable next month; you by spiritual dollars, payable when you die. I don't see the great difference." "Only the slight difference between what is material and what is spiritual." "They seem to me, from all I can hear in pulpits, to be only two different sorts of pleasant things, and to be sought after, both alike, simply because they are pleasant. Self-interest, if you will forgive me, seems to me the spring of both: only, to do you justice, you are a farther-sighted and more prudent man than the Yankee storekeeper; and having more exquisitely developed notions of what your true self-interest is, are content to wait a little longer than he."