"I could say a great deal," retorted the parson, whose archæological knowledge was always struggling with his religious beliefs; "but this is not the time or the place to say more. When Dr. Eberstein, who is your authority for these startling statements, arrives I shall be happy to thresh the matter out with him. It will be an intellectual pleasure. I get few opportunities of that sort down here." "That is very probable," said Hardwick, nodding; "your parishioners are a good sort, but not very learned." "They have no need to be learned, Mr. Hardwick. Let them fulfil their daily task, and be satisfied with the position in which they have been placed." "If they take your advice," said the Squire dryly, "there will be no chance of their rising in the world." "Why should they try to rise?" demanded Mrs. Sparrow, coming to her husband's aid. "Well, my dear lady, it is said that the common or garden millionaire usually starts his pile with the proverbial halfpenny. If he accepted your husband's ruling, he would never attempt to rise." "It is divinely ordained that some people must be high and some low." "Rather hard on the low people. I think every one should be dissatisfied, myself: that is the only thing that makes for progress." "Did you promulgate this extraordinary doctrine in the village, Mr. Enistor?" "No!" replied the Squire, glancing at the parson, who spoke. "Why?" "Because some of my parishioners are very dissatisfied indeed. Mrs. Trevel was hard up last winter, and prayed for money. She did not get it, and told me that she did not intend to pray any more, as it seemed useless." "And what explanation did you give her?" asked Alice anxiously. "I was horrified at her impiety, Miss Enistor, as any right-minded person would be." "Of course," murmured Montrose ironically, "how dare she ask for money when she was hard up." Mr. Sparrow took no notice of him. "I told her that God thought she required discipline and that she must not complain." "Why should she require discipline rather than a millionaire?" asked Julian. "She may have more original sin in her," said Mr. Sparrow, floundering in a bog and getting quite out of his depth. "Well," said Montrose grimly, "if according to your teaching, Mr. Sparrow, we all start as brand-new souls, given a set of circumstances over which we have no control at the outset, and with the same goal of heaven or hell at the end, it seems to me that every one ought to start at scratch." "Not at all," said the parson, doggedly illogical, "some are rich and some are poor; some are clever and some are stupid; some are ill and some are well. It is all divinely ordained." "But so unfair," urged Julian, seeing the absurdity of the speech. "What, sir, shall the clay say to the potter what it wants to be?" "I really don't see why the clay shouldn't," put in Mr. Enistor, who liked to see the parson driven into a corner, "especially when the clay has nerves."