“The nothing of conversation has its gradations, I hope,” he said, “as well as the never. A clergyman cannot be high in state or fashion. He must not head mobs, or set the ton in dress. But I cannot call that situation nothing which has the charge of all that is of the first importance to mankind, individually or collectively considered, temporally and eternally, which has the guardianship of religion and morals. No one here can call the office nothing. If the man who holds it is so, it is by the neglect of his duty, by foregoing its just importance, and stepping out of his place to appear what he ought not to appear.”

“You assign greater consequence to the clergyman than one has been used to hear given, or than I can quite comprehend,” said Miss Crawford, while in back of them came sounds of Mr. Rushworth battling shrubbery like a locomotive derailed. “One does not see much of this influence and importance in society, and how can it be acquired where they are so seldom seen themselves? How can two sermons a week, even supposing them worth hearing, do all that you speak of? govern the conduct and fashion the manners of a large congregation for the rest of the week? One scarcely sees a clergyman out of his pulpit.”

“You are speaking of London, I am speaking of the nation at large.”

With an unholy growl, Mr. Rushworth had his prey at last. He emerged proudly from the greenery, with a bushy-tailed critter in his teeth. However, regaining a modicum of human reason, he immediately released it, and, wiping his mouth with his coat sleeves, attempted to whistle nonchalantly, then choked on a bit of fur.

“The metropolis, I imagine, is a pretty fair sample of the rest,” continued Miss Crawford, ignoring the beastly choking sounds Mr. Rushworth made many feet away, as he doubled over from coughing and sent ringing echoes over the otherwise quiet countryside.

“Not, I should hope, of the proportion of virtue to vice throughout the kingdom. We do not look in great cities for our best morality. A fine preacher is followed and admired; but it is not in fine preaching only that a good clergyman will be useful in his parish and his neighbourhood. In London, the clergy are lost in the crowds of their parishioners. They are known to most only as preachers. And with regard to their influencing public manners, Miss Crawford must not misunderstand me, or suppose I mean to call them the arbiters of good-breeding, the regulators of refinement and courtesy. The manners I speak of might rather be called conduct, perhaps, the result of good principles.”

“Certainly,” said Fanny, with gentle earnestness, then turned around with concern, in the direction of the distant Mr. Rushworth.

“There,” cried Miss Crawford, “you have quite convinced Miss Price already.

“I wish I could convince Miss Crawford too.”