I can't give up my conscience, let me give up what else I may.' 'Perhaps,' said Mr.Tryan, feeling slightly uncomfortable, 'since you are not very strong, my dear sir, it will be well, as Mrs.Jerome suggests, that you should not run the risk of any excitement.' 'Say no more, Mr.Tryan.

I'll stan' by you, sir.

It's my duty.

It's the cause o' God, sir; it's the cause o' God.' Mr.Tryan obeyed his impulse of admiration and gratitude, and put out his hand to the white-haired old man, saying, 'Thank you, Mr.Jerome, thank you.' Mr.Jerome grasped the proffered hand in silence, and then threw himself back in his chair, casting a regretful look at his wife, which seemed to say, 'Why don't you feel with me, Susan ?' The sympathy of this simple-minded old man was more precious to Mr.Tryan than any mere onlooker could have imagined.

To persons possessing a great deal of that facile psychology which prejudges individuals by means of formulae, and casts them, without further trouble, into duly lettered pigeon-holes, the Evangelical curate might seem to be doing simply what all other men like to do--carrying out objects which were identified not only with his theory, which is but a kind of secondary egoism, but also with the primary egoism of his feelings.