a mass of bad work in him which he will have to work off and
get rid of before he can do better - and indeed, the more lasting a man's
ultimate good work is the more sure he is to pass through a time - and perhaps a
very long one - in which there seems very little hope in him at all. We must all
sow our spiritual wild oats. The fault I feel personally disposed to find with
my godson is not that he had wild oats to sow but that they were such an
exceedingly tame and uninteresting crop. The sense of humour and tendency to
think for himself, of which till a few months previously he had been showing
fair promise, were nipped as though by a late frost, while his earlier habit of
taking everything on trust that was told him by those in authority and following
everything out to the bitter end, no matter how preposterous, returned with
redoubled strength. I suppose this was what might have been expected from anyone
placed as Ernest now was, especially when his antecedents are remembered, but it
surprised and disappointed some of his cooler-headed Cambridge friends who had
begun to think well of his ability. To himself it seemed that religion was
incompatible with half measures, or even with compromise. Circumstances had led
to his being ordained; for the moment he was sorry they had, but he had done it
and must go through with it. He therefore set himself to find out what was
expected of him, and to act accordingly.
    His rector was a moderate high churchman of no very pronounced views - an
elderly man who had had too many curates not to have long since found out that
the connection between rector and curate - like that between employer and
employed in every other walk of life - was a mere matter of business. He had now
two curates of whom Ernest was the junior: the senior curate was named Pryer,
and when this gentleman made advances as he presently did, Ernest in his forlorn
state was delighted to meet them.
    Pryer was about twenty-eight years old. He had been at Eton and at Oxford.
He was tall, and passed generally for good-looking; I only saw him once for
about five minutes and then thought him odious both in manners and appearance.
Perhaps it was because he caught me up in a way I did not like. I had quoted
Shakespeare for lack of something better to fill up a sentence - and had said
that one touch of nature made the whole world kin. »Ah,« said Pryer in a bold
brazen way which displeased me, »but