,^ }^ V*. «'f .^J: .%? w>r:*"«-1l^.v. .*t. L I E) RA RY OF THE U N IVER.SITY or ILLINOIS 823 L982«^ v.l CENTRAL CIRCULATION BOOKSTACKS The person charging this material is re- sponsible for its renewal or its return to the library from which it was borrowed on or before the Latest Date stamped below. The Minimum Fee for each Lost Book is $50.00. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. TO RENEW CALL TELEPHONE CENTER, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN MAR 2 6 1SS5 When renewing by phone, write new due date below previous due date. L162 APPROACHES A7id tell me of the secret of my hearty Where every impulse sweeps with rising pain^ As forcing outlet for a higher part, That lends my hopes ^ my life, to fiercer strain^ . . . Till Jlung within my pj^son walls again. Yea, must I then with patience bear my yoke ? To do what near me I have found the best ? And kill my thought, and wage a meaner stroke ? And hold my rebel longings all repressed, That throb like living things within my breast ? No, let me cling to my true life's desire, If hut it call from out the soul of me Resistance to the depths and strength and fire. And hope to overfling a harsh decree, , . . And gain that world where I am whole and free. APPROACHES THE POOR SCHOLAR'S QUEST OF A MECCA IN THREE VOLUMES ARTHUR LYNCH Author of "Modern Authors" VOL. I EDEN, REMINGTON & CO PUBLISHERS LONDON AND SYDNEY. 1892 [AIL rights reserved] CONTENTS V 'I ^ VIRGIN SOIL. PAGE CHAPTER 1 1 Tarjlvale. The Brandts. Local Colour. Jack Clancy and Sam Chubb. Ben Church. CHAPTER II 30 Home. Parting. SOWING THE SEED. CHAPTER III 36 Arrival. Joseph. Gills. Langden. Romanoff. The Feast of Reason. Miss Lyddiard. Mac. Murray. CHAPTER lY 63 The University. Students. A Whale. The Lecture. CHAPTER V 71 J. R. M. Esthetic Delights. CHAPTER YI 77 Sunday. Adams and Wilson. The Grades of Prestige. CHAPTER YII 93 Tangling Tresses. Kithdale Brown. Green Pastures. CHAPTER VIII. ... 98 Solitude. IntellecEual Sins. PAGE CHAPTER IX 103 Illness. The Milk of Human Kindness. The Defender of the Faith. " Thou art Smitten." A Philosopher. CHAPTER X 112 Examinations. Mauvais quart d'heure. Gillie's " First Drunk." The Mother. CHAPTER XI 129 Tue Backslider. CHAPTER XII 134 A Good Woman. CHAPTER Xin. ... 144 La bonne Tenue. Bubblings. The Flavour of the Ancient Days. CHAPTER XIY. ... 157 Athletics. TO KCxXoV. Bob Kemp on Metaphysics. Yeast. CHAPTER XY 165 The Godmother. Mrs. Neville. The Confessions of Yanity. CHAPTER XYI. ... 177 "No Arrow like Sym- pathy." Castles in the Air. CHAPTER XYIL ... 188 Mr. Neville. Tasting Blood. CHAPTER XYIII. ... 200 Mr. Neville On the Iron Hand. On Metaphysics. On the Fine Arts. On the Summum Bonum. VI CONTENTS. PAQB PAGK CHAPTER XIX. 212 CHAPTER XXV. 277 The Dazed Flight. Failure. He. " That Gentleman There /' She. The Irish Party. The Verandah. A Practical Politician. CHAPTER XX 220 CHAPTER XXVI. 301 The Training of Horses. Lacy. " The Land of Dreams.' The Training of JMeu. CHAPTER XXI. 228 " Outcrop of Foolish Olympian Games and Young Enthusiasm." British Sports. Shelley. CHAPTER XXII. 238 CHAPTER XXYII. 309 The Inimitable Jimmy. " Sad as Night." The Paper Chase. The Veil. The Merry England. ' Fire Flies. The Streets. CHAPTER XXIII. 251 CHAPTER XXVIII. ... 323 Joj^s and Sorrows of Gills. '' A Love Bower." " Muddy, lUseeming." Tableaux Vivants. TARES. CHAPTER XXIV. 255 In the Toils. CHAPTER XXIX. 337 As Dreams are Made of Gillie's Progress. Cynic. Undone. Diogenes' Lantern. The Black Art. Central Fires. The Web. CHAPTER XXX. 344 Confidantes. The Vestibule of — VOL. II. AS DAYS WEAR ON. CHAPTER I. ... Dust. Commercial Principle The Weight of Gold. Sentiment. Paralysis. Death. Obituary. Weeds. PAGE 1 PAGE 26 CHAPTER II. ... " So was the Handsome Clive- The Dream of a Fair Woman. Gills' Fancy for Quackery, Fanny. Forecasts. Gorge-bait. The Cup Race. " The Primrose Path of Dalliance."' " Gillie's Governor.'' " The Uses of Adversity.'' CONTENTS. vu CHAPTER III. PAGE . 58 SEEKING OUTLET. " Faint Hopes are Euter- taiued of her Eecoverj.'' The Wages of Sin. The Drab-haired Libertine. CHAPTER XI Questions of Edncation. An Athletic School. 17f THE MAZE OF LIFE. CHAPTER XIL CHAPTER lY 65 Awakening. Sartor Resartus. The Distresses of our Best Friends. CHAPTER V 76 Mary. In our Midst. The Rescue. The Sea. CHAPTER VI. ... 100 Occluded Soul. The Children. " The Everlasting Tea.'' The Touch of Innocence. The Word made Flesh. CHAPTER VII 112 The Law of the Land. Clifford at Home. CHAPTER VIII. ... 126 " Blushed to Find it Fame." Keats. CHAPTER IX 137 Retrospect. Father McSheehy. " Clap on the Brake ! "• The Unkindest Cut. CHAPTER X 152 A Walk in Life. Pigeon Holes. Stumbling. Onward. ... 194 The Forms of Intercourse. The Mortal Coil. Productive Work. God and the Man. CHAPTER XIII. ... 215 Enwrapped. " The Starry Skies " and " Right and Wrong in Man." CHAPTER XIV 227 " On the Left " and " On the Eight." The Poor Scholar. The Voices of the Wood. " More Exquisite than Vases.'' CHAPTER XV 237 The Poet's Corner. " Cinders, Ashes, Dust." CHAPTER XVL ... 252 Madness. Bite the Dust ? " Where is the God of my Home ? ' A Familiar Touch. CHAPTER XVII. ... 265 A Disastrous Drive. Pleadings. The Death of Matthew Brandt. viu CONTENTS. VOL. III. IDYLLS. PAGE CHAPTER 1 1 Broken Words. Fairh, A Nimbus round the Form. A Simple School Girl yet. The Losing of a Kiss. CHAPTER II 31 A Poke Bonnet. CHAPTER III 39 The Weight at the Heart. Solitude, Life, Death, Love, Truth. CHAPTER IV 43 The Transcendental Self. " The Spilling Tears." " Apologia." From Girlhood. The Talisman. The Top of the Hill. " Auld Robin Gray." A Nation before Us. " Sudden a Thought came like a Full Blown Rose." The Outset. CHAPTER V 76 The Growth of Faith. Mary Neville. Tales out of School. " The Good Little Crock." Neatly Tucked Up. THE COMING HOME. CHAPTER VI 98 The Good Ship. Austin. Three Pioneers. PAGK , 105 124 CHAPTER VII.... The Swimmer. Hester Sterne. Foreboding. A Philosopher. Dead Letters. Physical Cultivation. CHAPTER VIIL Mad Waves. On the Rocks. , The Rescue. CHAPTER IX 144 The Swimmer's Struggles. CHAPTER X 151 Accounts Rendered. Mary. CHAPTER XI 162 " For the Child's Sake." " She is Dead." For Mercy — Forgiveness. BETWEEN TWO LIVES. CHAPTER XII " Truth is the Inner- most Kernel of all that is Great." Material Obstacles. Euduring Structures. Analysis of Love. 185 CHAPTER XIII... The Sweet Puritan. Yea, Austin. The Mignonette. The •' Orbed Drop." ... 214 THE END. VIEGIN SOIL CHAPTER I. In lands remote enough from ours and under other skies we pitch oar story. For there too live kindred who call the common earth mother, and as ^ho live their own secluded life and toil in their narrow bounds and gather here pleasure and reap now sorrow, thev prattle out their little world. The world of mystery sweeps about them and more wonderful than they dream guides them; its tremulous waves bear the beatings of their pulses and in this great all of life mingle them with ours. And in this remote land secluded in a VOL. I. B 2 APPROACHES. pretty village our story takes its orgin. It is the remnant of what was once a busy little town. Its rise and fall occupied but one generation. Let us first contemplate the scene before its quiet was broken by the din of human voices. — A range, or series of ranges of hills, mounting, terraced, irregular, is met with towards the North ; at the base flows a stream or rivulet, continuing within sight miles westward. Near to our point of view, following its course there breaks out from the winding chain a spur terminating some- what abruptly in -a hill which overlooks the stream; on the opposite side, the land shelves slowly upward towards the southern slope, leaving a broad valley between ; while far away to the setting sun the walls and terraced banks, diminishing and broken up, are in the remoter distance flanked by a bolder range which, running south, forms the contour of the horizon. Ifc is a semi- amphitheatre, the broken walls crumbling for measureless ages ; the arena neglected, invaded, — the ruin of a mighty colosseum of APPROACHES. 3 an ancient race of gods ! — No. Rather let us contemplate it, more at ease, and familiar. Thrown before us broad, open — the scene is cheerful, friendly, enduring. The sky- seems to us never so blue as here ; the air is free and blithe, and has a sweet refreshment in its taste. The sun sets wonderfully behind the long range, the rampart of the hills. ***** The men who came to dwell there had little thought of landscapes in their minds. Gold had been found near the banks of the stream, below the projecting hill. The news had spread like wild-fire. This solitude — all at once, behold a scene of bustling, active life; it was a •* rush," and they swarmed there in thousands, like an army of conquest encamped, a redoubtable city of tents, but peace and goodwill was the banner of the glorious bivouac there. Freedom, hope, the yellow gold ; freedom, hope, the yellow gold ; freedom, hope, the yellow gold ! That was anthem enough. They were giants of men ! They laughed in their toil. Hurrah for the 4 APPEO ACHES. bold pioneers, these Argonauts doughty, these men of our race, bold and sturdy enough to conquer a world. ***** Visions of wealth, what wealth can bring, were swimming in their eyes ; but the gold was already the earnest, the yellow gold was the conquest, the prize. It was a possessing fever, a delightful plunder, crowned with the voluptuous transports of gain and enjoyment at last. The lucky one whose pick had struck the nugget from the earth might well feel dazzled, for there flinging back his candle's light into his eyes, the gold was blazing there. The field had been a good one. Solid houses soon replaced the hasty tents. A town was formed, streets laid out, roads made. Public buildings were soon erected on the spot ; and Duncan's Hill, as they named it, now looked down upon one of the most active little towns in all the British Empire. * # * * * A few years rolled on. Other gold fields and still others had been found along the APPEOACHES. O ^F The paper-chase was a great success. Summerville and Bennet were hares, and were never caught. A fair number, Olive, Dyring, Ray, Stewart, Davis, Wilson, Mac- Dermott, and Austin ran out triumphantly. Gillie tried hard, but had to pull up, and trudge in great discomfort at the end. All the veterans, Langden, Romanoff, APPEOAOHES. 243 Joseph, and the others, went out in cabs. J. E. M. was also down. The exchequer was high he declared in great good humour. He had performed an operation on a man whom he had impressed with extraordinary confidence, and had received an instrument- case and a sum of twenty pounds as a testi- mony of gratitude. By Jove, said Romanoff to Joseph, a doctor would have thought twice before he tackled it. Jimmy's ignorance pulled him through. J. R. M.'s first care was to pay some debts, viz., those of honour. On this point he was scrupulous, though to be sure his extension of the term went no further than money lost at cards. Tradesmen's bills were things of vulgar notice, and money lent — ■ well let bygones be bygones. So altogether he was very happy and made a great figure at the Merry England dinner. In fact as he clinked glasses with his dear old friend, now Dr. Black, he declared it was like the bloom of the ancient days again. Everyone was on his mettle that night. Summer ville was a hero. When the waitresses were out 244 APPROACHES. of tlie room, or ought to Lave been, he sang his ever-popular song, " I wish tliey'd do it now." Langden played the accompaniment, and sang " Love never sleeps." Romanoffs conversation was generally studiously correct in choice of words. He had to keep up his position as arbiter by a sort of aloofness. He never got drunk, although lie was always willing to dinnk, and vice altogether was too precious a thing for Eomanoff to squander. One might know then how popular, how successful, this dinner was. Romanoff re- laxed from his aplomb and gave his famous, but hitherto unheard, stump oration. Austin had run out with one of his rowing friends, Clive. Clive was a handsome fellow, with a great reputation for brains and as Austin used to declare built like a very Antinous. Whether from vanity, or a half- conscious feeling of pictorial effect, he used to dress for the rowing in the scantiest of singlets, torn and ungirt, short drawers, and boots ; and standing with the oar resting on his left shoulder the other arm thrown lightly APPEOAOHES. 245 over his head, his attitude of careless grace displaying the limbs muscular and shapely, he looked, with the ruddy beaming face, bold eyes, and white teeth, a type of manly beauty, an athlete, a hero. By Jove, Olive, you're a Greek, Austin said. Clive was the son of a clergyman but had lately been assiduous to show that no phari- saical self-righteousness had clung to hira. He drank like Alexander, and tried to ply all his friends with the liquor. Austin wished to get away. No, Austin, do not go yet, old fellow, said Clive. It will be great fun, the march home. About twenty of us have agreed to walk into town together after one o'clock, and to spend every stiver in our pockets ! It will be great fun in the cool of the night. Yes, it would be great fun, marching shoulder to shoulder, arm in arm, running, dancing, talking, laughing, singing, roaring — from the Marseillaise in French, (Olive's specialty) down to '' Kitty Wells," " John Brown," or tbe " Old Rogerram." They would stop at every inn, quaff the British 246 APPROACHES. beer — and spend every stiver in their pockets ! Clive laughed as he looked into Austin's eyes, and Austin felt pleasure even that so handsome a fellow had been given unto earth. There was a magnetism in the broad fibre of the inconscient Greek . Austin rose, shook his hand, placed his finger mysteriously to his lips, and still laughing marched away. This was before the festivi- ties had rightly started. Where is he going ? inquired Joseph of Clive. He says he wants to go horn e ! Did you ever see such a d — d fellow in your life, cried Joseph, and he tossed up his head in despair, as though he had done with him for ever. Austin regained the fresh air. What a beautiful night for a walk. I will walk home. I feel the want of move- ment ; that wine was warming. Ha, this is Wednesday. Let me see. I will go out and see Mrs. Charlwood to-night. — Yes, I have not been out for a month. She will wonder — h'm. APPROACHES. 247 Whether he had vagae hope of finding Mrs. JSTeville there, he did overtly take into thought, but now he was all fever to go. Lately Mrs. Neville's image had pursued him — it was like the temptations of the evil one — and she too had inquired through Mrs. Charlwood. — He must settle this once for all. Yes, yes to be sure, and then all would be clear. This was a duty — Here, driver, drive me into Dudley quick, and get there before nine. Well, then, a half-crown extra. So. ***** Mrs. Charlwood and Mrs. Wilton were holding a quiet tete-a-tete when Austin entered. They were glad to see him, and twitted him over his defeat at the sports, and soon he began to look a little dis- appointed now that he had come. We hardly ever see her now, Austin. Who? Sweet innocent, you're an interesting child. There is such a delightful naivete about you. Sometimes she wants us to go round in the carriage to fetch you, but I'm 248 APPROACHES. going to stand on my dignity now ; and sometimes when she thinks you are coming she stays away herself. And Mrs. Charlwood laughed very much, inordinately. But here take this wine, boy. Why you might possibly call on her to-night. The night is still young. No ? Come then drink this and Mrs. Wilton will sing you a song. She poured out three glasses, and Mrs. Wilton sang as charmingly as ever. Mrs. Charlwood laughed very much when he declared it was getting late, he must go. You have not been here half-an-hour. Well then promise to come out next Sunday. She will not be there, for we'll tell her you're coming ! He promised and departed, and the ladies discussed the little comedy. Well see the prude herself in the toils. Pooh, said Mrs. Wilton, who had a great liking for Mrs. Neville — if she has sense enough not to give it to the town crier. That's right enough, but she was sharp APPROACHES. 249 -enough — well with other people for less things than that. The run out to the Merry England and the wine he had drunk excited him. The conversation of the ladies had not calmed his mind. He was full of life he felt, but there was a hungry feeling about him, that impelled him, without an object, on. He walked very fast and by force of habit home. But what could I do there, I couldn't go to bed. It's too late to work, and reading would only make me excited. Let me see. I'll walk about the town, and watch the faces of the people as they pass and see what's to be seen. It's a perfect picture gallery in every way more interesting than dead canvas. Great heavens, those sailors are very drunk. A cheery individual — the '' 'ot pies, saveloys, baked potatoes all 'ot " fellow, and that oyster man is a regular type with his velvet cap there and that dapper coat. What a voice ! That's the fellow who found he had left his knife be- hind near the University the night we wanted some oysters. Xow that took him a 250 APPROACHES. good half-hour — nothing sold in that time; hang him, he must be a burglar, and this " oyster-e-e-s " of his must be a blind, or else the poor devil has to work in the day time as well to knock out a living. — I'll have a dozen and talk with him. What kind of a fish is he, I wonder ! And so he went on. The night was fresh, and his spirits were eager. Every new face had its tale or he tried to guess, at least, and find a tale to his likiug. His steps led him along towards Harrison Street and here where four roads met he stood in doubt which way to take, looking first up one road and then up another. There was a small vacant lot at the corner, and a little higher up the street the first house, a neat little cottage, had a small garden in front, and at the side a wooden gate painted red. CHAPTER XXIII. Gills came back from the Merry England next day, pale, dissipated, wretched, and as Crossley described it in the vernacular " very fishy about the eyes." He had played cards nearly all night, had lost money, and for the rest had amused himself in ways known to himself, — for Gills was decidedly no fresh- man now, and plumed himself not a little on his growing reputation. Joseph heard of Gillie's losses, and gave him a very serious lecture on the folly of gambling in general and his absolute " asininity " in particular ; assured him that his failure at the Examination was a foregone conclusion unless he promised for the rest of his time to work, and work hard. 252 APPROACHES. Gills gave tlie required promise, begged, however, that the little dissipation of the races be allowed, but did not say that he had put more money on the Ace than he really had wherewith to pay. Joseph gave a grumbling consent. You can't afford to go knocking about right and left as you think some of these others do. It's not eveTy man's a Romanoff, said he. And besides both Langden and Eomanoff do a good deal more work together than you think. They're in the same year and if they only discuss the lectures together at dinner, that's something. They have both got brains and they know when to put in some good work and what to stew at. Then there's Summerville, well he can run circles round you, and to top that he gets plucked. He is always taking exercise too and doesn't get muddled. You can't drink like J. R. M. He's got nothing else to do ; and you can t stand a fifth part. You play Euchre and you'll never learn to play the game because you're beginning to fancy lately you're above telling ; and you contradicted Crossley about APPKOACHES. 25^ racing and scarcely know a horse from a cow, and asked if Ben Bolt bad a show for the Oahs / Gills sulked a little, declared he would never let anyone else talk to him like that. But he soon displayed a great zeal to get back to Joseph's good books. The Cup was run. The Ace did not win, but came third, and that delighted Gills for Crossley's pick was only seventh. When it came to settle though, Gills was in a great fix. He dared not tell Joseph ; it would make him look small before Langden and Romanoiff ; Summerville was out of town and never had money when he' was in. Gills borrowed all that Austin had, but that was far from sufficient. He wrote a mysterious letter to bis sisters, and tbey, in a very kind note, sent him their savings of months. Still that was insufficient, and Gills face to face with commercial difficulties sat down at length and wept. Pop your watch, said Olive. It was a gold one with an inscription from his father. 254 APPROACHES. I couldn't do that, what could I tell the Governor ? Pop it, said Clive, and when the vacation comes round I'll pop mine to get yours out. And you can have it then all the time you're at home. It will be all right about me. This arrangement amused Gills immensely. It went the round of his friends, and these and many others of his exploits caused some of the younger disciples to couple the name of Gills even with that of Jimmy Summer- ville himself. TARES. CHAPTER XXIV. It would be hard to trace oat all the tumults and changes of feeling that Mrs. Neville in these days endured. Again and again, a hundred times, she had thrown her- self down in prayer and again and again she had risen up with calm and settled strength. Oh, to decide my fate for ever in this hour. She tried to take a calm regard of all her life. There was a barrenness, a drear waste, in this renunciation, now that she had accomplished it. In that very moment she had fallen again. Then a hundred times — mutiny, the desire to fling herself into his arms. Then there was a sort of wild baffling, 256 APrROACHES. a beating out tliougbts from the gates of her mind, the clinging to passion, ah, the reaping of kisses ; then the precipitance, fearing that good influences might gain on her, asserting their sway, and rob her again of her kisses, the impatience, as though chasing the hours, the hours that were breaking the force of impetuous thoughts, the shrinking from aid, the dread of good angels, as of a struggle demanded, that heart-rending toil she had so often endured, the toil up the heights — then, the certainty of that, the obedience, the hating of evil — a wonder at tumults so strange. At other times : she would treat Austin as a friend. She fondly persuaded herself. Nay, it was a duty. She would be a guide to him. His work would be hers. That thought she could cherish in honour. She would aid him in every way, and he would at length rise to high position and be able to realize his projects ; he would triumph tlirough her. She longed to make some offering, to make some sacrifice, if but that would help in some great work. What could APPEOACHES. 257 she do ? Yes, if the hour came she could die, aod she often thought of death. . . . Ah, death. "What an exquisite ravishment there was in that wild idea, the terrible beauty of death. . . . Again. Perhaps he had no love for her. He toyed with her. The mere thought was a madness. She rose up in her pride. She could slay him if that could be true. Sometimes, she would deride herself, stinging herself with ridicule and all manner of reproaches — the plaything of a boy. And then the consequences of a fall to him and to her. She started. ISTo ! No ! She would escape out of this — she would go on a long voyage. — Never to see him again. She could not read, she could not play, she could not think now as before. In readino>, playing, reclining on her sofa, listless her mind would wander, and her fancy recall the scenes she had known. Words, verses of poetry, strains of music that she had been familiar with a hundred times before came with a new discovered pathos now, impressing feelings, fine, so sweet, yet so yearning that they swept like pain through her mind. VOL. I. s 258 APPROACHES. Disturbed, ardent, but with no outlet, her force but defeated itself and her mind was plunged into dreams. Sometimes a mere word or a name would wake a world of memories and curious recollections. It seemed as if it were not she who directed her thoughts, rather they took possession of her, and held before her the succession of their images, sometimes slow-moving, very beauti- ful, then again tempestuous, impulsive, with strange and wild upleapings and longings for something out of this life, yet possible. Pictures in books she had not read for fifteen years came back to her — this of a young girl with a large old-fashioned straw hat, standing pensive ; ah, Lotta, was it ? or Fantine ? No, no. It was the Guillotined Woman — a wretched book, moreover : now the figure of a young man under the cliffs of a surf beaten shore : now an extended landscape, seen from the turn of the road from the heights where she stood, far beneath, and far distant, yet wide and clear and distinct, right out to the solitary mountain with the glinting, the faint silver gleam of the lake at APPKOACHES. 259 its base . . . then a city of mighty palaces with their round pillars, colossal and grand, where a river laved the imperial stairs, the terraces, walls, colonnades ; and over this wonderful broad way of commerce, strewn with argosies, gondolas, barges, the sun's light threw a pavement of gold making it like a floor of a temple of Gods ; and far beyond the bastions of the city the vision was led away to the hills of the west, quiet, empurpled, eternal ... or again an ivy- mantled ruin in a still sequestered valley through which the little stream flows peace- fully; or now she was looking into the blue waters of a quiet pool beneath a shady tree ; and now she had lost sight of the pool and saw the blue of the summer sky and the fleecy clouds ; and these too faded now and forms of fairy dreams passed through her mind and lapped her in a soft delight. It was sweet to beguile the hours with dreams like these, to live a beautiful life and beneath these orange trees with their golden fruit and their perfume to hold the hand of a being loved, to look into eyes. — It was his 260 APPROACHES. eyes she was looking into ; slie looked into their depths and they became more real and vivid and she felt his touch and her bosom rose and fell and sank and struggled. And still trembling and fluttering, in all vicissi- tudes the thoughts of love would come ; and she would dwell in recollection on the words and each particular scene that stood out so boldly wherein she pictured him. They impressed themselves upon her mind till they seemed all to live for, and the pictures moved, each with its particular stress ; and the scene in the verandah was acted in her mind and she looked again into the basilisk eyes and felt almost palpably the touching of his lips and tasted of the kisses' painful sweets, and the tumult of her breast grew confused, and she started then, and struggled in her anguish again to resist. Oh, she cried, that I could for ever shake off these thoughts that lead to infamy, that for this wild intoxication would rob me of my duty, fair fame, my woman's honour. And yet with all her struggles she felt herself falling slipping away from her own deter- APPEOACHES. 261 minate control. She did not know herself. It was no sensual passion that impelled her breast, the feeling inevitable, natural — to her, now, fatal and shameful; that feeling springing from a thousand sources in our nature, curiously mingling, springing from primeval source, developed and adorned by all the hopes, impulses, sweet desires, that cry aloud for sympathy, the crying to another soul, the look, the tender tones, — that feeling that in all its strange bewilder- ment our mortal race calls love. ***** It was after a long separation that Austin and Mrs. Neville had met at Mrs. Charl- wood's again. He walked silently, moodily it seemed to her, and she had already looked up in inquiry twice. Austin she called very softly, at length. Well ? Austin, is it not possible for two of a different sex to be as good friends — to be friends — nothing more. To wish in the same way unselfishly for each other's good 262 APPROACHES. and — oh you must know what I mean — why should it not be so ? Do you think so ? She walked with her head bent down. I don't know, he said churlishly. You are right, she said after a pause, for the world will say — The world will say. Estimable prudence, noble guides ! The world, selfish, sordid, superficial, stirred by no generous impulse, soulless and base, measuring all things by its own vulgar standards. And this it is that controls your life and swallows up its scope. Woman's love ! And this, this after all is the censor, and your whole life is measured by this. Good woman. And marriage appears to be but a narrow bargain, a contract, with the conditions all weighed. And so your pretty day runs. To be sure there are jewels and fine vestments, and coaches and attendants, and all kinds of entertainments and vanities, and fashion, and insincere forms. It has something of unreality about it, as though there were a mist over life itself, and you walk like puppets through a meaningless APPROACHES. 263 comedy. Where is your life ? artificial, deluded, clieating yourself, inept, worthless —You! With head bent low she shrank and cowered before him. She felt as if he had seized her by the hair and were dragging her with violence through the mud. She felt a poor wretch, as though she had been mad, and were now waking into a rough world. There was a savageness, a bitter- ness, an impetus of rejection, more in his manner than in his words. They walked on in silence. They arrived at last at the gate. How often had they stood a moment there radiant with high talk, their hands pressed in fair friendliness together, their eyes look- ing to each other encouragement and hope, the hearts of both light with a healthy spirit. Now she trembled and hesitated. He looked at her. Her face was pale and haggard, her eye inert and dull. His heart smote him. He took her hand. There was no feeling in it. She made no resistance as he drew it to his side. He stroked it with his. Forgive me, he whispered as he bent his 264 APPROACHES. head. I have wronged you. Forget ifc now. He passed bis arm gently around ber waist still bending down to her and speaking in a pleading voice. Look up to me once more. And be drew her head to him, and she began to sob. She felt undone, exhausted of spirit, weak, and helpless. He kissed ber, and she made no effort to resist. My darling, let us then be friends. Nay, let us be sincere. I love you, and you are mine. The world ; he tossed back his head ; the world I defy and fling its worthless judgments away. See, here, now your cheeks have regained their warmest tint, and your eyes too, darling, will they not look up ? My darling. My darling, l^ay then give me a kiss. And he folded her in his arms. She trembled, she wavered, she wept. In her room she sat down on her couch, listlessly. She could not think. She could not make effort. She was undone. She was in his power. She knew it. Faith is our guide, our bond, she had once said to him. But that faith being gone — ^ * * * * APPROACHES. 265 l^ow, reasoD, honour, and all restraint, lie shook away. He was impelled. In his blood raged a fever. Her image wrought into his brain. He was seized. Struggle and tumult were forced on his mind. His sleep was a drunkard's, dreaming of her, distorted and frightful. Then that access would pass, and at no time in his waking hours did he seem unable to cope with €vil promptings and to reassert his judg- ment, calm and clear. What restrained ? The w^eight and strength of character already founded and built, words of good omen, memories, good thoughts of the past, the momentum of hopes, resolution ; but it was the stone of Sysyphus. Good influences were dimly felt, so far off, so hopelessly distant, he was as with a relaxing drug stupefied, lowered in type, yet not lulled; his mind was glutted with sensual feasts. Yet beneath all a bold chord had vibrated, and waked a thousand worlds of new life. They had come. He, Mrs. Charlwood and Mrs. Wilton, to have their musical evening, but Mrs. Neville was cold and 266 APPROACHES. spiritless. The visitors had one or two small purchases to make, they explained. We have come to say that we cannot stay, like Austin one night, said Mrs. Wilton laughing, but I wish to settle my dress a moment though ; and they retired into Mrs. Neville's room. Austin ! called out Mrs. Charlwood, and Austin sprang up and came running in. Austin! Austin! cried Mrs. Neville, and Mrs. Wilton in a breath, as he burst into the room. Mrs. Wilton was before the mirror exuberant as a Yenus of Rubens or Jordaens, with her ample shoulders, white throat, and swelling bust. What do you mean ? The Yenus of Jordaens was blushing, indignant, bending with a singular coyness, massive and broad. Why? What? Mrs. Charlwood called me ! Yes, said Mrs. Charlwood, scarcely able to repress her amusement, but, Austin, not to run and bound in like — like a wolf on the fold ! Come. I was wishing to tell you we could not stay the whole evening. And APPEOACHES. 267 come let me talk to you the words of wisdom, for you seem, young man, to be much in need of guidance, and she laughed her mellow laugh. It was necessary in going from Mrs. Neville's room to the parlour to pass through a little ante-chamber or boudoir. Here she had stopped, I like the idea of this little room, so tasteful, is it not. Where does that door lead to. Ah, so to the passage. This is a dainty little band bo:s of a place. And what book's this, she's been reading. Burns' poems. " From Austin Brandt." Fie, Austin ! you sentimental little fool. Mrs. "Wilton sang and Mrs. Neville essayed with her a duett. Burns' beautiful love song, " wert thou in the cauld blast," and then played a piece of Schubert. She began to glow. Yery beautiful she looked. Her eyes were like soft lamps. The classic coif set oS the shapely head. The plain velvet robe she wore fitted well the sinuous movements of her form. But come, Jessie, it is better to go now •268 APPROACHES. and we will have time for a chat when we return. We will not be more than half-an- hour. No, Austin, it would not be polite to take you away and leave our hostess all alone ! We will not be long. They will probably be able to amuse themselves till we come back, she added to Mrs. Wilton as they left. The door closed, and his eye met hers. She was stricken. She could not repress the quickening beat of pulse. She beat at every loophole in despair. She looked up at him, and smiled faintly. Then she rose and slowly paced the room with head bent down, then looking at him steadily she approached, and sat on the piano stool. One arm was raised and the other hung by her side, round and smoothly tapering into graceful fingers. She was beautiful. The features were refined, and now a soft warm fervour was suffusing them. All these things Austin saw as his eye swept rather confusedly along the lines. She was the first to break the silence, draw- ing a deep inspiration and mastering her voice. APPROACHES. 269 Now, Austin, let us talk about our books. Stop, I'll bring my Emerson, and you can read to me till they come back. She rose. No, said Austin, not just now. Let us talk, or I will repeat you some passages from memory. He sat on the foot-stool by her feet and took her hand. " A sensitiye plant in a garden grew, And the young winds fed it witli silver dew, And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light, And closed them beneath the kisses of night. " And the Spring arose on the garden fair, Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere ; And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest. " But none ever trembled and panted with bliss, In the garden, the field, or the wilderness, Like a dove in the noon-tide with love's sweet want As the companionless Sensitive Plant. " The snowdrop and then the violet Arose from the ground with warm rain wet, And their breath was mixed with fresh odour, sent From the turf, like the voice and the instrument. Beautiful indeed, she said. Almost im- palpable in its subtle sense. Continue — Austin ; dear Austin, was almost on her lips. He touched her arm and it was soft and warm. 270 APPEOAOHES. Austin did you ever hear of Joseph ? she said. His fingers trembled along the surface ; this was serious. Her hand lay unresist- ingly in his. He leant over and pressed it against his cheek and looked up into her face. Austin, this is not right. "We ought to pass the time with better, with higher things than this. There was no firmness in her voice, her face was agitated, almost to painfulness. He held both hands in his as he pressed them to his cheek. Her chest heaved and her eyes glowed deeper. He leant his head upon her breast and coiled the graceful arms about his neck. He could feel the fluttering, the irregular but rapid strokes, the spasmodic beating of her heart. He passed his hands round her neck drew her head to him, slowly, and kissed the ripe lips and — Leave me ! she cried and suddenly sprang erect, a wild terror in her eyes. He drew her to him. Her form shook and seemed to struggle as though with sobs. The startled look gave way to suffering. ***** APPBOAOHES. 271 We bave kept our word ; we have not been more than half-an-hour you see, was heard Mrs. Charlwood's cheery voice behind the door. Thev entered fresh and smilino^. Mrs. Neville was at the piano, playing "Weber's Last Waltz, playing with exquisite softness, and lingering on the notes. Austin was seated at a small side table slowly turn- ing over the leaves of a book, '' Florentine Painters." She had washed away all trace of her tears. I might have thought you had a quarrel, said Mrs. Oharlwood looking keenly from one to the other, you were sitting so quietly when we came. Oh no, was Mrs. ISTeville's rejoinder care- lessly, for music hath charms to soothe the savage breast. The savage sat turning over the leaves of the book slowly, not without appreciation of the refinements of mediaeval art. His features were composed, almost placid in their perfect balance. Oh, then let us encourage so amiable an 272 APPROACHES. example ; and then you will sing a little will you not, Jessie ? Or better first, said Mrs. Neville leaving the piano and busying herself settling some ornaments upon the mantelpiece. But when does Mr. Neville come home ? Soon. Then I don't want to meet his cross face to-night. We will go now and select an evening again. Mrs. Neville accompanied them to the door. Mrs. Charlwood was in rare good spirits that evening. It was deliciously cool and the stars were shining in the naked heavens overhead. They had reached the gate. Stop, said Austin suddenly, I have for- gotten something. He returned. The door was not closed. He ran rapidly along the passage bounded up the stairs and entered the parlour. Mrs. Neville was in her boudoir — she had heard his step. She came and stood standing near the door ; it was a picture that remained in his memory. A handkerchief was in her APPROACHES. 273 Land ; it rested liglitly on a little table. Her right arm was hanging by the side. The head was turned away, and the tears were flowing bitterly, unregarded. Austin stood at the door and looked. She raised her arras and stretched out her hands to him. He sprang forward and took them in his. He looked at her averted face with strange earnestness. Slowly, and with her eyes blinded with tears, she turned her countenance and met his gaze. A moment — and she offered her lips. He kissed her. Go now, she said. Mrs. Charlwood entertained them on the way home with a thousand pleasantries. Come, Austin, walk here between us, and give me your hand. Man}^ a little touch of tbe conversation reached him with its subtle turn. She pressed his hand. She was puzzled. Was there ever such an unimpres- sionable little fool, she thought. Austin himself though was beginning to read the lines of her face much better now. He was learning. « ^ ¥ $ « VOL. I. T 274 APPROACHES. Austin's mind was drenched with volup- tuous imaginings. He approached women in cynical guise and met them with a deep contempt. He was thrown with those that nourished wicked thoughts and even as " Good the more communicated more abundant grows," so Evil. To Mrs. Neville the fall had come at first as if the Veil of Fate had been torn aside and she from outside herself, had beheld herself, her life. She gazed almost less in horror than in unbelief, unacceptance, as in a dream, then, slowly, came the strange fascination of realization and desire. Gradually her manner changed. She made no coyness about her kisses now. She laughed at Mrs. Charl wood's allusions. She connived with Austin at clandestine meetings, and, now, what so short a time ago she would have shrunk from, allowed Mrs. Wilton to enjoy her tacit con- fidence. That favoured their interviews. Her conversation too was flippant, her glances, the expression of her face became of a lower cast. "While she was yielding to his will and made shipwreck of her dignity, with APPROACHES. 275 ever more solicitous desire to please bis growing fickleness, she destroyed the charm that bound him to herself. She had lost her self-respect. How could she expect respect from him ? The gifts of mind, the sensitive spirit, the fine feeling, the encouragement, the strength she had given him, all vanished with her duty. These fought against her now. Weep in secret she might. Her heart might break for that — but she was sinking, she knew it, in his regard even as in her own. This was inevitable in Austin, and not all from heartlessness. He beheld now a sensual woman before his eyes. Other ties were lost. Mrs. Wilton was faithful enough to her confidence, but Mrs. Charlwood's suspicions were becoming surer every day. She determined to try a surprise. It was not delicate. . . . What, did Austin — ? cried Mrs. Neville. No, Austin did not replied the smiling Mrs. Charlwood in reassuring tone but, while 276 APPROACHES. the other was distressed in shame, why did you not tell me ? Pooh. These Sive maudlin tears. By Heaven, it's your just revenge. So handsome too the cavalier. Was she taking a delicate delight in stinging her? She certainly smiled good- naturedly. Your secret's safe enough. But be dis- creet. He is already suspicious — a guilty conscience. But come, look up and smile. A glass of wine. You must though — I'll keep the secret. It's quite right. " Maudlin tears " no ! We'll clink the glasses — To Love ! We will be the best of friends now . And they talked away together on very friendly subjects. . . . And Miss Matlock is to be married on Thursday, eh ? And you will be sisters-in-law ! She has you to thank for that. Impertinent little minx she is all at once. Well, we'll see. She has good eyes, but her teeth spoil her. CHAPTER XXV. Austin had become alarmed for liis course and worked desperately hard. That was not so difficult to do now either, for amusements and frivolities had been put aside and work was the order of the day in Richmond House. Good Heavens, Austin, remonstrated Joseph, don't go on like that. You'll kill yourself ! Austin shook his head fiercely, and worked as though that were indeed his intention. But it was too late. The examinations were over once more. Austin was unsuccessful, the only one in the house, except of course J. E. M. He had gone home wasting with illness. This University business was a disastrous 278 APPROACHES. affair, meditated Matthew Brandt. He dis - cussed witli his spouse the advisability of breaking off his course even now . He seems to wither like a transplanted shrub, he said. Mrs. Gray sought him out. She asked him how was the Byronism. He turned away. But Austin, she cried and clung to bis hand, and you haven't been up to see Mrs. Shenstone yet. But come, Austin. Now Austin, think — ^you know how good she is — No Jessie. He looked as though about to speak, then shaking off her hand. No, leave me, and walked away with his head down. To go to the hill and lie stretched under the shade of a tree was a healthy instinct. He could see from there his own home, and Mrs. Shenstone's house, and most of the town. And so the listless hours slipped by. I think, said Mrs. Shenstone, that he lets his non-success at the examination depress him too much. But then, when he was ill — H'm, said Mrs. Gray. Austin took long walks by himself, or APPEOACHES. 279 sought out the company of Jack Clancy, Sam Chubb, and old Ben. Faith Shenstone he met once in the street. She was coming towards him — in blue and red, a graceful apparition. She checked herself as she caught sight of him, looked at him very seriously in the face. He raised his hat and she bowed very gravely. A most dignified little lady, said Austin laughing heartily. ***** Sam Chubb and Jack Clancy talked much during the evenings of the impending elec- tions and politics home and international in general. Sam was the real sustainer of these conversations. When he was absent the exchanges between the other old cronies were very desultory — An I'll tell y' who was second, — interval of forty seconds — it was Lamplighter — . Or else — . . . Only a few specks on the bottom of the dish . . . H'm, h'm . . . Heighomustbeclearingout of this, you know. . . . Hear good reports of Broken Hills . . . some doing well, most of 'em not. This was a sign of the hard times at Taryl- 280 APPEOACHES. vale. Luck had smitten Jack rather badly of late, but he was brave and hopeful as ever. His day of hard toil finished he used to sit at night cobbling away on his bench, while his trusty comrade smoked a meditative pipe, and sat and read the newspapers and dis- coursed oracularly on statesmanship. Tlie foreign policy of Eussia was Sam's strong point, but he could descend to trifles grace- fully. Look here, thin, I don't know what we want going to Dudley for onr members at all. Jack Clancy affirmed. Let them repre- sint Dudley and let the country represint itself, and he hammered away with the decision on the sole of a boot and gave the critical look of an artist. Ah, if we had the father there, he said to Austin. But he would go in on the Catholic ticket and the bigots hate us. Jack gave this with much emphasis — not without a certain unction, and looking at Jack Austin felt much amused. With his round red, good-humoured face, and his crisp chestnut hair, Jack looked a model of a hated being. APPROACHES. 281 Jack, said Austin, if it were in the Dark Ages they'd burn you at the stake ! They would. Bedad, they would. They would ! and Jack nodded his head with much asseveration. Ah, if the old man would only shtand why half the Prodestants (he did not say Protes- tants without an embellishment) half the Prodestants would vote for him ! I don't know a man in the place that wouldn't ! Matthew Brandt was in fact Jack Clancy's hero. Living or dead he once declared there never was, and never will be, such a man again. That there won't, concurred the meditative Sam. Ah, and Jack hammered away lustily. Now look here, Austin, said he, and he cocked his eye with a sort of confidential air. Austin looked very grave. I've known many of your members of parliment ; had 'em here in this shop ; spoke to 'em ! Took the measure of one of 'em, that there fellow Gannon, it was there, for a 282 APPROACHES. pair of Wellington boots. Yes, sor, that was the style then. It was the beaver hat, the swallow tail coat, and — the Wellington. Well IVe known a good few of 'era, as I'm telling je, but very few knows, I'm telling ye now, very few knows more than — and he pointed to the meditative Sam who was determinedly absorbed in his paper — more than that gentleman there. Austin admired the delicacy at once and distinction of Jack's phraseology. *' That gentleman there " was good. That gentleman there still read on. Yes, continued Jack speaking with a tack in his mouth, I've known some of them that warn't fit to carry inks — and he took the tack out of his mouth — to that gentleman there. The conversation now became more general. International affairs were discussed in extenso; "that gentleman there" gener- ally settling the matter. But who is this coming up from Dudley ? said Austin. Why it's in the Herald there this evening. Didn't you see the Herald? APPEO ACHES. 28B No. In fact '' that gentleman there " had occu- pied it for two hours and a half. Why that damned lawyer fellow, they say is coming up. There, there, Pat. The fore part knife and the scraper, Pat, can't ye see. That, that fellow in the House there, that trimmer. He's afraid of his own con- stituency this time after turning round on the Home Rule tack. Damn him ! — Hammer in that last, Pat. — That — what's his name,. Sam? Neville. What ! cried Austin. Excuse me a moment, Sam, and he took the paper and read the notice that Mr. M. Neville, the popular member for Dudley West, had in order to meet the wishes of his party decided to undertake the task of winning back Burleigh, &c., &c. A conversation between Mr. M. Neville and Dr. Charlwood over their wine one evening had led up to this new move. Well you see now how the matter stands, Mr. Neville had said. 284 APPROACHES. Faith theD, I'm not quite clear on that point yet. Well but they'll never take that Education Bill, don't you see. Duffy's dead against it and all the Catholic party, don't you see? And the country means to have it. Smith's little wirepulling surprised himself and now he must go on. So far so good. Well it was the Irish racket I got in on last time, and the game's played out there now. You're a good 'un. Ah, that stuff can't be beat. Some I got from the Boree vineyards. Yes, sir — when the Phylloxera's burst — Well then I'm going in for Burleigh on the Anti-Irish ticket this trip. That's a moral, said the Doctor, smacking his lips and meditating his *' potentialities of growing rich," a favourite discourse, when the Phylloxera would finally have burst up, we believe it was, the vineyards of France. We put the other coves out, continued Mr. Neville familiarly, and then we're the boss- €ockies. APPROACHES. 285 Good. Well that means portfolios, eli ? And Attorney-General falls to your humble servant, eh ? Grand. You're a cute 'un — tut — tut there's not a headache in a gallon of it. The election took place during Austin's vacation. There were three candidates in the field. Neville as Conservative supported by the Church of England Party, Murphy supported by the Catholics, and Jones, on the Liberal ticket, the champion of the Wesleyans. Murphy was '' ignorant as the pigs of Drogheda" as Mr. Neville himself put it. Jones was a rather wretched little being, who talked much inflammatory language on the platform, and kissed all the babie s in the constituency, thereby hoping to secure a seat. And Mr. Neville was— Mr. Neville. Therefore the recording a vote migh t have been a question of delicate consideration if these considerations entered into it at all. But they did not ; the election turned on the religious question. They slandered each 286 APPROACHES. other with much zeal and an unsophisticated person might have observed curiously that their guides were not in general the Sermon on the Mount. Matthew Brandt had no difficulty in form- ing his decision. Murphy was the champion of the Church that was founded on a Rock. That was enough. Murphy's character was " shady ; " Matthew Brandt was a man of high integrity. Murphy's manners were on a par with his morals ; Matthew Brandt was stern in dignity as in honour. He took Murphy to his bosom, gave him the weight of all his name and influence, and canvassed hard for him, pen and voice. The bone of contention was the Education Act. Matthew Brandt had hailed it. It would bring a new era into our national life ! Cardinal Barry condemned it. It smelt of danger to the Hierarchy. That was enough. Matthew Brandt and Murphy worked together and their battle cry meant death to Education. Murphy was champion of the Pope's infallibility. That was enough. APPEOACHES. 287 Austin groaned inwardly. Murphy and the Bishop of Gresham dined frequently at the house. The youngster refused to meet them. What ! cried Matthew Brandt not the man to brook disobedience in a son. Austin's eye flashed as he looked up. I will leave the house rather ! he said. Matthew Brandt was deeply struck. He walked silently out of the room. Austin, what have you said ? and his mother took his hand. The tears gushed to his eyes. He turned his head and walked in silence away. Every night the pros and cons of the elec- tion were talked over by the townspeople who used to lounge into Jack Clancy's shop. From the starting point of politico-economical interests, the issue would often run a wonder- ful course. Once it was a hotly contested battle as to whether Ned Hanlan was the greatest oarsman of the world, and once as to who had the worst of it in the end, Tom Sayers or Heenan ? Mr. Neville's speech was 288 APPEOACHES. the occasion of some disturbance. His aim was to make it an anti-Irish question. What have we ever got from Ireland but disloyalty, unthankfulness, crime, assassina- tion, and affrays ? The leaders are a crowd of adventurers living on the corruption of the country they have ruined. They must agitate to keep themselves before the eyes of those they are hounding on to crime. Agita- tion is the trade they live by. Ireland has too long impeded the progress of a much enduring Empire. She must be squelched — Jack Clancy had listened to these words with open mouth, and with his eyes ready to jump out of his head. D ye hear him, Sam ! D'ye hear it ! D'ye hear what he says dthere — the lying — sweep — the d — d — d — d — d — d — Jack boggled a little in speech but his look was more than eloquence. Parnell's a better man than ever you or the likes of you was, you dirty spalpeen ! cried Sam. Great confusion. This start was all that Sam wanted. APPROACHES. 289 A disturbance was brewing and Sam" began to sniff it as the war horse does the battle afar off. You paltrj — presumptuous — whipper- snapper — you — jou — pragmatical — Jackdaw — you pragmatical Jackdaw ! This last word had come to Sam by a happy inspiration. He had read it once in his little girl's third book of lessons. The " pragmatical " created great consternation. Uproar. Cries of Sit down ! Put him out ! Take off your boots, or else you'll wake the baby ! Order ! Gentlemen ! Gentlemen ! Out with him ! were heard all over the house, while the " Irish party '* were becoming furious. Sam was the wrong man to be put out. A little of that was what his soul panted for. The people who vociferously advised this course were not personally active. Mr. Neville saw through the affair in a twinkling. Would the gentleman have the goodness to come up on the stage ? VOL. I. w • 290 APPROACHES. He was very bland. He would be only too happy to give him the opportunity of addressing the audience. Go up, Sam, nudged Jack, with no manner of doubt but that " that gentleman there " would settle Mr. N. for ever. In a rash moment Sam mounted the stage. He had now to address the audience. Ladies and gentlemen ! A roar of laughter. That's a good 'un, Sam ! Your mind's alius on the ladies, Sam ! Fellow men — tried Sam again — women and children, shouted out a voice and the crowd once set going laughed immoderately. But Sam was not to be beaten. He had his point. Fellow workmen — (laughter), I hold in my hand a piece of paper. And a cutting from a newspaper really fluttered at the ends of his fingers. (Immense laughter.) I hold in my hand a bit of paper, shouted Sam furiously. We see it, Sam. Hear, hear, Sam. Is it bankpaper, Sam? APPROACHES. 291 The crowd were ready to explode at any- thing. Ye blackguards, roared Sam, I hold in my hand a bit of p-a-a-per ! Inexhaustible laughter. Jack Clancy beheld his chum's distress and rushed up on to the stage. Why, no one knew. He didn't know himself. He felt he wanted movement. So did Sam, and they stood there both furiously red in the face. Austin was convulsed with laughter and Jack Clancy caught sight of him holding his hands before his face. Austin Brandt ! he roared out, are ye a man to sit there and listen to this. An' yer old chums doing their best, the blackguards. Come up here wid ye ! Come up and talk to them. Go, urged old Ben who sat next to him. Is my father here? whispered Austin. No. Go up and speak ! The eyes of the people were turned on Austin. He felt it without looking up and shaking his head fiercely to tune up his 292 APPROACHES. brains he suddenly stood up and walked calmly up the centre looking neither to right nor left, and to Mr. Neville's complete astonishment ascended the stage. What he was going to say he had not the remotest idea. Read that to them, cried out Sam putting the newspaper cutting in his hand. That was very lucky. He saw what it was at a glance, viz., one of Mr. ISTeville's own speeches, and with a grave aspect that kept the audience in expectation, began — Mr. Chubb assured you lately I believe that he held in his hand a bit of paper, (Great laughter Sam joining in with all), and truly there was much reason for Mr. Chubb's emphasis. He spoke to the point and commenced to quote Mr. Neville from Sam's bit of paper. Mr. Neville was mad with rage. He ad- vanced, however, with all his florid suavity. His forbearance had been exercised, he said, in giving Mr. Chubb the privilege of speak- ing, but surely it was not to be expected — Hisses, howls, uproar ! Sam Chubb shaking APPROACHES. 293 Lis fist, and Jack Clancy bellowing like a bull, and half the audience standing up and the other half yelling, Order ! Hist ! Silence ! Let's hear him ! Austin looked at Mr. Neville, thinking of the crushing down doctrine, and fluttered, before the eyes of the audience, Sam's famous " bit of paper." Jack looked at the " prag- matical Jackdaw " and shook his fist at him, and Sam strutted round the stage in the same style that some of the old identities had seen him in the Ring of the old Gold- Pocket Theatre when he boxed the Dog-Trap Pet, and knocked him out. Is there no policeman in the room ? shouted Mr. Neville. All the audience were now yelling. Hear him ! Hurrah, Austin ! • Good boy, Sam ! Don't wake the baby ! Down with the rake bellies ! Order ! Boo hoo ! The word policeman gave the last touch to Jack Clancy. All true patriots stand by ! he roared. In an instant pell mell over seats and men there was a hurry skurry for the stage. Mr. 294 APPROACHES. Neville retreated and finally made his escape by the back door under cover of the darkness for most of the crowd were ready to belabour him. Austin waited to see what would become of the disturbance. Half the audi- ence were already fighting. Some tried to take him on their shoulders, while he ran round to the back of the stage, laughing. The Chairman feeling that he ought to do something and not knowing exactly what, kept crying aloud in his desperation, Put out the lights ! Put out the lights ! Austin slipped out and could only in wild imagination conjecture the tumult that was thundering within in the darkness. Next day Sam Chubb the hero of many a rough and tumble assured him with immense laughter and much internal sober fact that it was something tarrible ! Something— tar- rible. Ah ! sighed Jack, when he recovered breath. Actshally ! repeated Sam. ***** Matthew Brandt had been seriously dis- APPEOAOHES. 295 pleased with Austin, and this unseemly up- roar increased not a little his discomfort. And himself fallen from his high estate, Austin brooded over the injustice, the hypo- crisy, vileness, that he seemed to behold everywhere rampant. The election resulted in favour of Mr. !N"eville by a small majority. Jones was second, Murphy, with the Catholic vote solid, close up. Murphy was the idol of his party, and some of his speeches were perfect gems, especially the last. He was a jolly, good natured fellow, but for this once, and only this once, he was dignified, impressive ! We are now a fourth of the community, he cried, and 'held his hand aloft to retard for a moment the storm of applause. Yes, we are now one-fourth of the com- munity, — but plaze God, plaze Grod, we'll soon be a fifth ! Who are you going to vote for, Tim ? Austin asked an old acquaintance of his whom he met in a remote district one day when out riding. 296 ArPROACHES. Arrah, an' who would I vote for but Pat Murphy ? But he is not in your constituency this time, Tim ! The divil a bit will that shtop me; they tells me not to be listening to a thing at all, at all, what people does be saying. Arrah, an who would I vote for but Pat Murphy ! That some of these people cannot move mountains is but a proof of the limitations of the power of Faith. Beer had flowed like water for the benefit of the free and independent electors. Mr. Neville had flung gold broadcast, and the others meditated a petition against him on the score of bribery. It's the pot calling the kettle black, said Mr. Neville to the Doctor, and a man can pay his own price for services rendered. To be sure, said the Doctor, dropping in a lump of sugar. My dear Doctor, continued Mr. Neville, the whole business is a farce. What can men slogging away with picks all day or splitting timber, or pushing barrows, know about ques- APPROACHES. 297 tions of taxation or complicated points of Government ! You don't bring your watch to a blacksmith to mend for you, and you don't submit yourself to a conclave of cobblers if your liver's out of order. We can't cobble them ourselves, said the Doctor. Well then, we come and spout on intricate questions of politics, that perhaps two or three men in the House have any proper grasp of at all, to a room full of clowns ready to swallow anything you give them. Well, I talk bunkum to them. If they want that they can have it. I'll talk sense to them if they like but they don't. I'll talk anything you please to them. If they're satisfied that's their business, not mine. Did you ever hear these men talking about Tree Trade and Protection. Egad, it 'ud make you laugh. There are not two men in the House talk sense about it. There's Stir- ling there has the whole business off pat from his Mill and his Adam Smith, and his Walker and Cairns, and what not, that a man wants a supersublimated brain to get hold 298 APPROACHES. of; but it's the particular points and con- ditions of trade and commerce and practical politics that come in, and I can knock holes into everything he says. The argument is only a little bout of sparring to '* show form." The real question with me is, how many guns does it carry ? That's the secret of my good temper in the House. Manhood suffrage is a farce on the face of it. If the people elected delegates out of small com- munities and these formed an electing body, and so on, that might be right enough. Bill Stubbings is as dark as Erebus on the pros and cons of the conversion of Govt, stock, but on the whole he'll name you pretty clearly the most intelligent man in his district, and this next fellow'll have a wider range. Government by a full chamber is another farce. Legislation is one thing and adminis- tration another thing, and legislation is just as technical a business as the other — as technical as that doctoring of yours and a damn'd sight harder to tinker. Would you call me in if you had a touch of colic ? No. I have great respect for your logical APPROACHES. 299- mind but there's the little point of fact you're weak in. That's it. Neither would I take your opinion for a rap in anything involving legal issues. It's a farce. Commissions help the matter, but we want it systematized. Always pulling the strings of legislation is a farce. Ousting your Minister of Justice because Public Works has overshot his estimates or Treasurer made a blunder, is a farce. General elections with a dozen mixed issues and the country in a ferment is a farce. Government by party is a farce. The debates in the House are a farce. The whole business is a farce ! You're talking revolutionary now, said the Doctor as he watched with satisfaction the other drain his toddy glass, and quietly stirred his own. What do you propose ? Nothing. I'm satisfied. I've got that portfolio in my paw. That'll do me for the present. If a man wanted to help them they'd hound him down, as they did when Johnson brought in his Norwegian reform. ^00 APPROACHES. You can't do any thing for them. The Angel Gabriel couldn't better them. They'd pull him off the platform. They want Smith to tell them he'll make a paradise for them if they only put him in. Do you think he cared a damn about the Education Act? not he. That's our wedge to give Duffy his conge. CHAPTER XXYI. Austin perhaps was glad to get back to Dudley. None of the others had yet re- turned to Richmond House. Gillie was not to be expected. Poor Gillie. It was on the occasion of his birth- day. Gills, on this day, happy, buoyant, amiable, naif, docile had opened his heart to Joseph. They were alone in the room. Joseph, he said, Joseph — how does it feel — It should be said that Joseph had been much displeased with Gills of late. — ■ How does it feel, Joseph, how does it feel — when you are going to be a man ? ! . . . Poor Gillie. He was crestfallen. He entered his own room, looked at his wretched countenance in the glass, then threw himself on his bed. He wept. Ah, Joseph, Joseph. 302 APPROACHES. You have never known the fidelity that I have had for you ! Joseph, I can still look up to you. Yes, Joseph, I can admire you more than ever ! but, Joseph, — I can never feel the same to you again ! In place of Gillie, however, a new inmate had arrived, a former acquaintance. Lacy was a rather notable character : Then about twenty-eight, a law student in his third year, with no achievement in the University records, yet a man of the liveliest spirit. He had passed through an engineering course in Dublin, had spent here some years in field surveying, but had found no outlet for his restless and fiery mind. In person he was tall, well built, robust, ruddy in appearance, with bold black eyes, and crisp black hair; his features well- marked but regular — a fine type, handsome and strong. An artist faithful to the out- lines might have given them the peculiar air of refinement. They had not that, however. There was too much the look of animal health. One would say, perhaps — a farmer's son (as he was), a fine, happy, handsome, APPEOACHES. 303 genial fellow witli his manly figure and the eyes of a Jovian bull — but still not a man brought up on spoon meat. He and Austin were friends at once. They had much in common, much in con- trast. Lacy's robust figure diminished Austin's frame, yet there was in the youngster a carriage and a steeliness that Lacy some- what lacked, and his countenance in com- parison with that of the impulsive Irishman looked patient and resolute. Lacy's father was an Irishman, his mother a lady from Warsaw. He himself was a furious Home Ruler, a Catholic by profession, an infidel by conviction, enthusiastic in everything. And there was one subject on which he was accustomed to talk with more than ordinary vehemence — The poet Shelley. Shelley was the God of his pantheon. Have you read him ? he exclaimed to Austin, in their first conversation. No, I have read scraps here and there — The Sensitive Plant. Yery beautiful. The Skylark incredibly good, and a few others. 304 APPROACHES. Brandt, said the other solemnly, you have not lived. To be sure, said Austin laughingly, not iu any essential way yet. I am preparing for that and I see a long foreground, and Heaven only knows in what measure I will be able to pull through at length. But let me try to explain to you. I read poetry with a peculiar pleasure but never without a certain feeling of dissatisfaction. I say this is beautiful. It has beguiled the hour with sweet dreams, and made this resting place more or less pleasant. But I cry, I do not want to be beguiled. I want to see life as it is with my eyes open. I do not want these pictures, excitements. Nay rather seriously I think I should check in myself, not en- courage, these desires, for my own wretched mind is always running away on pictures when it ought to be at honest toil. What poets have you read? Most of them. John Milton. His L' Allegro gives me the very fields of English scenery. At least I presume so. But did ever a mau read through Paradise Lost ? I have learnt APPROACHES. 305 many passages off by heart. The images are magnificent, the diction magniloquent, the conception grand, stately, gigantic, and — Go on. Well, Jimmy Thomson, a splendid fellow. The fat of the Land somebody has said, and not badly I think. And Goldsmith. His Vicar of "Wakefield tastes of green fields. And Pope, and John Dryden, and Burns> with those love songs of bis — Damn him. Lacy laughed at this turn. I see Burns had hit you somewhere — but on the whole you are cold. Not so. I feel with them all to the full as I read. But where is the man who has struggled from darkness up to light, has spoken out from the depths of his heart, whose life has been his poetry, the words the portraiture, the struggling interpretation, whose tones, though ringing with the very genius of his poet-nature, break from him with the natural impulse of a cry ? Well, Byron ? Yes, Byron, full of startling and original thoughts, beautiful flashes of ideas, great VOL. I. X 306 APPROACHES. and vivid with passion. One is swept away with his Corsairsj and his Giaours, and his Laras ; with all the gilt, the glamour, theatrical bombast, opera bouffe. Take Man- fred, this is nearer. Grand, with masterful strokes of expression. The central idea is false ; all that makes it a drama is weak, factitious, the greater part mere rhapsody. Don Juan is the only one that seems to me — sincere — and that — You're the man I want, cried Lacy. You haven't lived, I'll give you Shelley I Shelley ! His touch is electrical. It's more than poetry. It's a revelation. It's a religion. The name Shelley is a spell. Ah, you do not know what that is yet. I could love the man who loves Shelley. To know him is a brother- hood. Lacj and Austin were drawn closer and closer. They talked politics, they talked religion, and they talked interminably now of Shelley. The whole summer evenings they used to walk together. These evenings were radiant it seemed. Strolling in the gardens along the banks of the Yarra, with APPROACBES. 307 the stars reflected in the placid waters at their feet, taking long walks out to the sea, wandering along its margin and gazing into the fulness of its waters under the sheen of the moon's light, their words were as free as their thoughts. Austin was being perpetually astonished at the singular contradictions in Lacy's character. He had a passionate ad- miration for greatness of every kind, yet he seemed content to let it rest at that and to be nothing more than a feeling. He could recite Shelley by the hour for he knew him off by heart, or play cards in a tavern all night. He appreciated with devotional in- tensity the finest and chastest feelings of Wordsworth's nature worship, but his own course of life was not likely to flow in a very pellucid stream for his love of women made the whole caste of his mind erotic. The characters he admired were those of high purpose and strength, and he was susceptible on every side to the temptations of pleasures of the sense. Austin introduced him to Mrs. Charlwood, and that lady was charmed. 308 APPROACHES. Mrs. Neville too and Lacy liad much to talk about. He had a considerable know- ledge of music and excellent taste, it ap- peared. Lacy sang too — a round voice, rather rough to be sure, but as Austin declared with delight, vigorous. You're one of the few men one cares to listen to, he said. '' The Tenor's voice was spoilt by affectation, as for the Bass, the beast could only bellow." You have no voice Lacy, old fellow, but what you have has at least a ring that is manly. CHAPTER XXYII. Austin, said Lacj — it was a soft mood of reverie — I scarcely know whefclier on the whole I derive more pleasure or pain from poetry. They had been walking in the cool even- ing and now had sat down on a little bench in the Fitzroy Gardens. It was a fine avenue between irregular rows of elms. The stillness of the night, the dim light, mellow and limpid, the half discovered vistas were full of subtle influence. The mind moved without effort, mused, wandered in a dream. Then all at once with laughter and the clear voices of silver a troop of school children, a bevy of little girls dressed in white, broke into the scene. Their voices and laughter could be heard long after they had vanished 310 APPROACHES. from sight. These were followed by a Saracen and a Chinese Mandarin going to a fancy dress ball. Then after a long interval a woman with a red shawl thrown as a hood over her head passed by. She marched slowly but with a strong step. She was a daughter of the people. Her countenance looked beautiful in the half-light, dark, grave, even sombre. Then nothing was visible but beyond the park, the lights of the city, where the buildings and streets were like shadows or clouds, fantastic and large. The silence had been long unbroken, save by the faint sound of a flute, so distant that it was half unheard, with its melody that just fell within the ear. Truly one of a thousand and one nights. Lacy was half reclined smoking a cigar and watching the smoke wreath. Austin smiled, looking at him. Yes, continued Lacy. I read with delight, and have felt how exquisite the hour. Each particular thought moves me with its native impulse and my mind sweeps along the whole diapason. APPROACHES. 311 Man 1 Oh, not men ! Man, the harmonious soul of many a soul, Whose nature is its own divine control, Whence all things flow to all, As rivers to the sea. How great the compass, the harmony of that. Familiar acts are beautiful from love. The simple line. Familar acts are beauti- ful from love. I have often a foolish sort of thought to wish I could have known Shelley, to have once grasped him by the hand, to have once looked into his eyes, to have kissed his forehead once. Our lives are myriad in this way, he con- tinued ; affections, ideas, impulses, swayings, excitements of the mind all in a brief hour. There is the " burthen of the mystery " everywhere. And then again look at it in another way, the same brief little doings, the few fleeting years, and we fade away as if we had never been. Austin had not heard the last words. I wonder who that lady is he said, by Jove she's beautiful. Where ? I see two. 312 APPEOACHES. Yes, but the one with the veil ; it conceals her features, but see the grace of the figure and the carriage, and her manner . There's something about her tells me she is very beautiful. She looked at me as she passed. Possibly, said Lacy laughing. Yes, but there's something not right there. She's in some trouble I know. Ah, see her coming back . The ladies passed again, and their agita- tion was very apparent. Austin rose and walked calmly over, and looking at his countenance they could not think him impudent. It could scarcely be concealed he said that they were in some distress. There were situations in which bounds of politeness might be overstepped. Could he serve them ? He would stand to their command. If not would they excuse a rudeness that a strange sort of interest in their perplexity had caused ? They stood looking at each other. He raised his hat and was turning away. No, no, said the unveiled one, you might really help us. But how can we speak. APPROACHES. 313 They looked at each other, confused ; but at last the veiled lady spoke. Tell him, she said, and began to weep. The story was a simple one, and the lady came to the point. She explained that they had occasion to have long suspected the fidelity of the husband of her friend. That even now she believed they had surprised him in an assignation. See that bench near the lamp. He is sitting there with that woman. At least we think it is he. We dreaded to go near, lest he should also see us, and now we do not know what to do. Here was an adventure. Well ? said Austin. The two ladies retired to consult. At length they came forward. The unveiled one explained that it was a desperate thing but they proposed to change cloaks and hats for disguise and her friend might then take Austin's arm and pass close to the place. She could at least satisfy her mind of a doubt that was killing her. Yes do it. The exchange was made, the ladies reappeared and Austin and the veiled 314 APPROACHES. beauty (as he now was certain she must be) passed and repassed the lamp. No, it was not her husband, she declared. You have rendered me a strange service. What you think of me I am afraid to guess, but I beg still more — that you make no attempt to discover me or question me further about this wretched business. Her voice was low and as he thought very sweet. This wretched gauze that a touch might for a moment turn aside ! It was tempt- ing. I will not seek to penetrate your secret, he said. On your honour. I have given you my word. Go at once. I will not look even to see the direction you take. Austin and Lacy shut their eyes very determinedly and when they opened them again there was no trace of the fair ones to be seen. His relations with Mrs. Neville had long been irksome to him. This adventure now occupied his thoughts ; but by no means re- strained his fickleness. APPEOACHES. 315 He was living in a wasteful excitement, the futile emotional storms, the sad march of the libertine. It was some time after this event that Austin and Lacj were sitting together at an organ recital. The music was classical. Austin, said Lacy during an interval. You Lave two serious defects of character. Austin's guilty mind smote him. Well? You do not love flowers and you do not understand music. Pooh. I A^ould willingly say, let there be flowers. I would have banks of violets, beds of mignonette running wild, a little wilder- ness of hawthorn, heather and musk rose, a hedge of baronia to lade the wind with per- fume. Were I building my pleasure palace, I would have these to give me a half un- conscious solacement as I meditated other things, but life is too short to brood upon flowers. John Keats said one of the most exquisite pleasures in life to him was watching a rose unfolding. Lacy heaved a sigh. Ah Austin 316 APPROACRES. said he there's a world in this music ; there's not a feehng in our minds that music will not respond to. There's soul in it. Grandeur too and greatness. I was running over in my mind Beethoven's Sonata in E flat. Beautiful, said Austin. What? Beautiful ! cried Austin. What ? She ! Look, that lady there. Did you ever see a face so beautiful ? Lacy looked. Kate Shand the actress, he said, yes she is beautiful. I've seen her before, said Austin deeply. Possibly. But, where ? Where ? I wonder, I'd know that face for ever again. A lady came in now and took the seat beside her. It was the unveiled one ! The same figure, the same carriage, 'tis she. T^ ^ ^ »R Wr Kate Shand the actress. Night after night he used to sit in the theatre — delighted, fascinated — but as in a dream, elusive. APPROACHES. 317 escaping from tlie clutch. AVhen, at the last, she used to stand in advance of all, near the footlights he used to hang upon those eyes of hers, those bright suspended orbs ! — the curtain dropped and he started then from the deep hypnotic spell. It was Shakespeare's As You Like It, and Kate was Rosalind, a combination to lino-er in the memory. It became famous. JSTot alone Kate's beauty, but the brilliancy of style, won for her every heart. The form clothed in rich vestments was perfect in its symmetry, sculptured with a liberal but powerful hand. In repose confident but well-contained, in movement easy, natural, and almost strangely delightful. — But it was not Eosalind. That soft seductive languor had a lower fount than the grace of Shake- speare's Eosalind. The voice was mellow, arch, and winning ; but that of Eosalind is as natural and fresh as the singing of birds in spring time ; the actress was alluring, seductive — the mask was of a clever woman, a beauty, a plaything. His pulse was beating as he looked up 318 APPROACHES. With some confusion to her face; but she was by no means the sentimental fool that he thought. Rather she seemed to wish to atone for former weakness, and mocked very much at anything that even savoured of tender feeling, and showed herself anxious to be considered a woman very much of the world. This acquaintance grew rapidly. Then she rebuffed him and held him in check. She talked of love and teased him. Austin, you are a mere boy, but you will find flirtation a very pretty pastime. It is better than salmon fishing. You hook your victim with the tempting bait of love, and then play him as you will. Let him feel the gentle tug, give him free line ; then after he has fairly exhausted himself in his struggles, haul him in; and so the game goes on. And then when you have thrown him into your basket that's finished, and you look out for other sport. Very pretty, he said, and I am the fish ? You are playing me nicely, are you not ? How far have you got me ? Am I nearly APPROACHES. 319 exhausted in ray struggles ? And when will you begin to haul me in to your basket ? These contests, collisions of feelings and will, this sport, he was beginning to like. Nay, if you but think of it — the seduction of women was the game ^ar excellence for the youths of this gentle time. The litera- ture of flippant genius is pretty large, and no small part of it witty. It was the daily change of most of those whom he met, though to be sure with a good deal of the wit not on the face of it obvious. However it passed very well, for the point was more or less obvious and the wit not particularly missed. Lord Byron who wrote much to please the sex has assured us of the universal levity of women and the De Mussets or the Balzacs give no better account. Pooh. It was a mere contest for supre- macy. He would either be salmon or angler. He would be angler then, so the contest grew hotter and hotter, and their light raillery struck upon rather serious faces. You're in love with me, he said suddenly to her one day. 320 APPROACHES. She was holding a globe with gold fish in her hands at the time. It dropped with a crash. See what you have done ! What was it that you said ? Oh ! I'm in love with you, am I ? That's very interesting, and — it's I am the salmon then ! Now Austin, be tender at least. Ha. Ha. I like that very much. Do not laugh. Your manner changes when you hear my step, and when I speak your eye glistens. You are sometimes pale, some- times red. It tantalizes you that these arrowy things of yours do not sting me. And yet you would weep salt tears if you hurt me, Kate, wouldn't you ? I do not study you so much. Perhaps you think it is in your power or your will or something of the sort, that hardness and bitterness of yours that — will never give one their due, — will never say anything — I hate you! Foolish Kate. The footlights have made you a something less precious. Your life has become a tawdry play tinselled. A world of eclat and spangles has fretted on your APPKOACHES. 321 vanities. Your brilliant cavaliers have been imbeciles, the drones of an inept hour. They lia^e flattered your caprices, and every silly fancy has been a jeu (T esprit, till even you have found that cloy. And these have been your triumphs. And you have been unsatis- fied, while still sated. For the woman is inferior to the man. She knows it in her heart. She despises him who beflatters her, she adores him who binds her to his will. With the one she is a giddy fool, and still lost ; with the other she feels that the hand than can crush her can hold her ; and, behold,, pretty Kate, all her native qualities of grace, seduction, charm, spring out. This is not a high standard. Nevertheless it is the standard that she has made for herself. It is not in supporting the man in the hours of his higher endeavours that woman finds her mission. No. It is in a lower tone, the delightful tentatives of grace, the incense of a moUient sensuality. Behold her costume. Kate flung herself furiously on the sofa, covering her shoulders with a rug. It is the woman who is the athlete ! Life, why is it VOL. I. Y 322 APPROACHES. not a perpetual Pythian feast ! Ha, my pretty Greek. . . . He continued to speak with calm voice, striking down to the very depths of her nature. Kate felt the words like a whip. It was as the racehorse feels the steel, the soul the goad of its pride, the poet his access of feeling, — and fervent desires their impulse, the wild leap beyond the power of the will. CHAPTER XXVIII. To see Kate at her own house too fre- quently was a matter of some embarrass- ment, for she was sincerely desirous of being, like Caesar's wife, above suspicion; therefore Austin arranged to invite her to supper and selected for the purpose a place that had an excellent reputation among the gilded youths of the day. Pleasantly situated, surrounded by a garden, with two great poplar trees at the gate, which completely sheltered the approach, Llandeilo House was secluded and quiet as a cloister. Austin was admitted by a lady whose age he could not even approximately guess. She might have been forty, she might have been sixty. A round little figure well preserved, florid cheeks, streaks of powder, a rather 324 APrEOACHES. fantastic way of doing the hair, large dragging eyes, the outlines of good features, but the peculiar character as of a woman, profligate, utterly. He looked around the room. The furni- ture was rich, certainly, but showy and profuse. There were, however, some remark- ably good pictures on the walls, principally choice little touches of landscape, a copy of Sir Frederick Leighton's " Wedded," and a beautiful engraving of one of Rubens' Crucifixions. Austin naturally enough perhaps began to feel a certain difficulty at the beginning of this interview, but Mrs. Eddy w as one of the most amiably mannered persons in the world and soon set him at ease. And so, Dolly, you would like to have the judgment of a lady friend upon the piano. Oh, was the explanation, you know, Dolly, we never by any chance sell a bottle of wine in Llandeilo House, for that is contrary to the law, you must recollect. At least, she said laughing, Tve been assured so by gentlemen who have everv reason to know who have APPEOACHES. 325 come here to supper ; and therefore I always put the ruatter in some such delicate way. Oh ! . . . You are discreet. Yes, that's the way. We are beautifully secluded here are we not, Dolly? Quite a retreat, and with those shady trees that pro- tect the gate the house may be said to be embosomed in foliage. A love bower — quite sylvan. All my friends think that's a very nice idea. . . . Ah, ah, ah. It's a weary life ! I'm five years older than the Queen, Dolly. Tra la la la la la la, she trilled, la la la tra la la la la la, and her voice ran up and down the scale with the greatest freedom as she beat time with her hands and swayed jauntily about. That's Ernani ! Oh, how I love the Opera. It is so refined, so exquisite a pleasure. Tra la la Tra la. Hear me, Norma ! romde romda ! la la ra de ra ! and puffing out her cheeks and with melodramatic air she gave him a sample of her tragic. Five years older than the Queen, you're not really serious ? Ah, yes I am though but they all tell me 326 APPROACHES. that I keep my years so well. It's the figure, my Beauty, the figure that does it. You see, I don't drink. It's the drink that plays ducks and drakes with them all. A glass of champagne now and then, a little delicate Chateau Lafitte is very good ; but it's the nip, nip, nip, all day long, — men and women too, nip, nip, nip. No doubt, and do you know many nice people ? Ah, I know them of all sorts. Youth will have its day ; but I know a good few too that are no longer young. And some of them I like best. I like to see some re- finement in the features you know. The Je ne sais quoi, I like to see a lady gentle and lady-like and nice in manner. I know- one that it is quite a treat to hear her talk, she is so sweet spoken and always has a smile when she meets you. Ah ! Mrs. Eddy she says, I always do admire your taste and tact. You keep things always so elegant and proper. Ah ? And how old is she ? Now, let me see, fifty perhaps, but it's APPROACHES. 327 hard to tell her age, her figure is slight, rather thin, and the complexion rather sallow. Ah ! but to see her walk, Doll ! to see her walk ! to see how graceful she does things, and to hear her play ! Doll, Doll, Doll. But now I mustn't be saying anything more about her or you'll be asking who she is ? And I'm a sphinx ! Doll ! I'm a sphinx ! And she closed her mouth and marched with much humour up and down the room. Ha, ha, ha — oh, the tinkers, said she laughing. I know them all and I smile to myself as I pass them in Collins' Street. It's a queer old fantasia Doll, my boy, this life of ours. Isn't it ? ... dear, dear. I'm heart-broken, Doll, alone in the world. Had you no family then ? Why bless you yes, two girls. Dead? Dead ! God save you, no, they're both alive. Austin looked a little puzzled. I had them brought up in a convent in , she explained, and used to take a trip there once a year to see them. They were 328 APPROACHES. both beautifully accomplisbed, and the Maris t brothers used to say to me, We do admire you, Mrs. Eddy, for the training you have given your daughters. The eldest one, Nora, insisted on taking the veil in spite of every- thing I could say. It was of no use, and so she is a nun now. A nun ! Yes. A nun. And the other ? Ab, she was my pet — Pauline. After leaving the convent she went for a visit to some friends of hers, and married there Delaroux, a scampish fellow, an actor. ... I spoke hastily, and she took me too seriously. "Where she is now I don't know. Ah, it breaks my heart. It has — broken — my — heart. H'm . . . One of the Marist brothers, Dolly, stayed here two days. I managed nicely. We had plenty too to talk about, the girls and so on. He gave me this book ; and she showed him a beautifully bound Douay Bible. A knock was heard outside. She rose to go. APPROACHES. 329 Close the door, called Austin. Pooh, Dolly, are jou afraid of our con- yersation being interrupted. We're as safe here as if we were in Newgate ! There was a whispering at the door. Presently she returned. I must go now, said Austin, nine o'clock on Wednesday. Ah, Dolly, you're a jewel, and what I would do for you I'd do for no one else. Au revoir. Au revoir. ^ "^ /Jv TJx T^ Austin meanwhile had not seen Mrs. Neville for a long time. Attributing this to the wrath of her husband in the matter of the elections, she had sought to make appointments with him; these he evaded. She felt herself despised by him ; degraded to herself. There is a feeling of dignity in moral worth that makes defeat a victory, that makes the bare hut which shelters the persecuted from the winds of Heaven more glorious than a temple. There is a dignity that erects the soul ; that makes it free, 330 APPEOAOHES. strong, nay, under suffering, cheerful; that seems to be impressed too upon the physical form ; that in the invisible ways that we must tread seems to bring with it an atmo- sphere, a Presence, that others too are dimly conscious of. These things she felt she had understood once. Now she felt shrunken, mean, a thing to endure insults. Her spirit could not rise in protest. The bitterness of grief was none the less. She reclined on her sofa, and list- lessly beat her foot upon the floor. At other times, other moods. She paced the room. She approached the mirror and deliberately and closely regarded herself. The past few months had changed her much. The eye was sad. On the forehead were the irradicable marks of suffering. The cheek had lost its soft contour, its bloom. The whole face — the delightful atmosphere of her youth, the radiance of health had vanished. She looked attentively, determinedly. The beauty of the woman was fading. With a peculiar quietness she returned to her sofa and sat half reclining, her eyes looking for- APPROACHES. 331 ward, looking at nothing. Her youth wa& disappearing. She taxed herself as though with a sort of hate. The hollowness of her life — she pointed at it with bitterness. The years of suffering, the years of noble fortitude were almost a reproach, a delusion. Her life was deceived. She trembled, approaching the days of her encounter with Austin, the kisses illicit. By what chain did she hold him now ? — Her life was slipping away. Her mind rose in tumult. The years of her for- titude, womanly courage, her suffering — these were flung into the stream of her ragings. Wherefore this life ! — a hollow Entsagen, a desert. Grief, the haggard parasite, was eating up her life. No ! No I Austin and she. . . . « ^ ^ ^ « It was a billet from Austin, asking to meet him at Llandeilo House on Wednesday night. The writing was not his.- He had disguised it, she guessed. A curious struggle her feelings may have at this moment undergone. . . . Prudence, not fickleness had led to his neglect ! — She ^32 APPEOAOHES. jumped at that thought. . . . And then — the next step to a lower degradation. I am bad enough, Heaven knows, she cried, I cannot now be nice about the ways and the means. How to avoid suspicion. . . . Still further confidences, still more abject confessions. She did everything mechanically, noticing every detail, even attentively, but as one who had only a far-off interest in it all. She dressed with care, wore a dress decollete^ a beautiful blue silk gown, and took with her a long white veil. The lady was shown to a room. Looking round she observed a sort of little chamber or alcove partitioned off by heavy curtains of red rich velvet meeting at the centre. She would hide behind this. His step was heard. For a little while he seemed to stand puzzled at the door, seeing no one. Then the curtains divided, and she stopped for a moment, her head bent down — the long white veil covering her, — then she swept it daintily aside, with a flash in the €yes, looked up and met — Lacy ! Lacy stepped audaciously forward, a well APPROACHES. 333 turned compliment an effusive explanation on his lips, while she stood panting there. Back ! Back ! Cowardly wretch ! Touch me at your peril ! Dastard ! Her face was white. She heaved and swayed in a tempest. Springing to the door he turned and slunk away. Meanwhile another drama was being played close by. Austin and the '^ Divine Kate " arrived at the appointed hour, she deeply veiled. The gate was unfastened. He stood with his hand upon the latch. She trembled, pulled his hand impulsively. Oh come away — there is yet time. He pressed the latch, they entered and passed quickly to their parlour. You tremble, foolish girl, said he, pooh. There's no fear. This place is secrecy itself — and the eyes of Argus could not penetrate that veil. Here, let me remove it. Kiss me and still your silly fears. Ah ! now, that's better, and he smoothed her hair. 534 APPROACHES. What ! you tremble still, and turn your head away, and — what's this, tears too. Look up and kiss me again. He took her hands. What ! No ? Oh leave me, leave now. Go. He smiled. Why, Kate, this pretty art becomes you. You have prepared your part to give the play a piquancy. He passed his arm around her waist and bent his head to kiss her. No, no, she cried and struggled suddenly and freed herself and flung herself or fell upon the floor, and throwing her arms over a chair buried her face and sobbed convul- sively. What is this then ! Tell me, plainly. Speak! She did not answer. He bent down again, seized her round the waist, with main force set her on her feet. Speak ! Leave me, leave me. It has come to this. I have played with this wretchedness till it has entrapped me now. I said to myself I could resist and toyed with this temptation, and now, scarcely knowing how, I have been swept away to this. Heaven forgive me, I APPROACHES. 335 Lave never wished it so. Austin, oh Austin. I have been a good woman ever hitherto, do not wrong me. I thought you noble the first night I ever saw your face. Be noble now. Oh, let me go. He looked at her astounded ; with gloomy brow paced up and down the room. Oh what a weak fool I am. Heaven for- give me. Speak, Austin, Austin, speak to me. And trembling and wavering she looked up and tried to smile, and her resolution was slipping again. Why did you never speak before ! Great Heavens ! It is you that have led me on to this ! I never guessed at this. Now let us draw back, now. You are noble, Austin — Here. Weep, yes weep, and weep again. Do you forgive me ? said he. She smiled. Yes. Ah ! he cried, your answer strikes me like a silly blow, — to dwindle, to be vile, to seek inferior things — and be forgiven. She was sobbing, and drying her tears alternately. 336 APPROACHES. Ha! what's that ! Her voice ! He stepped into the room, just too late to notice Lacy'& slinking off, and beheld to his amazement Mrs. Neville there. He hesitated, advanced^ fell back, — she quivering and white, — and he stood staring at her vacantly. Her veil had fallen down. She lifted it with a gesture, and looking at him fixedly, scornfully, rent it in two, tore it off, and cast it away. His partner had followed him, all the traces of the tears still in her face. The women's eyes encountered. Mrs. Neville's eyes shot flame. With a look of horror she crouched, made a movement as if trying to hide, stumbled, tripped, then threw her arms back. Coward ! There was a sting in the word as she darted her wild eyes upon him, and mad as a leopard coursed out of the house. Mrs. Eddy unused to such alarms came rushing in. What's this ? What's this ? What's this ? my God ! Mother ! Pauline ! CHAPTER XXIX. Meanwhile life amongst the students was wagging on. Gills lived no longer at Eichmond House. He was taking too liigli a position now for Joseph's guardianship. His dress, style, con- versation, all proclaimed as much. He and Clive lived together. That business of the '' popping " of the watch had made them friends, and mutual confidence had now cemented it. They occupied the same room, they were always together, drank together, made love to the same barmaids, so they said — in fact such companionships were not un^ frequent at this period among these gentle youths. They were both very genial and were frequent visitors at Richmond House. "We VOL. I. z 338 APPEOACHES. must, however, speak in future of Gills with somewhat more respect. He was no longer the rubicund boyish Freshman now. He dressed more a la mode. His cheeks had a more drawn or settled look, and their colour was now an ashy grey streaked pecu- liarly with red. Do what he could though, he could not repress that laugh of his, and no one thought of reckoning it seriously against him. Gills did not apply himself to study so much as formerly. Olive knew his work, he declared, and he did at least as much as he. A pretty argument, but Gills was not metaphysical at all. They were too sincerely friendly, and it would have been wrong to make " nasty " invidious distinctions. With these ingenuous young men, too, at the time this story deals with, it was con- sidered rather " infra dig J' to be a " stew- pot.'* This was the designation of a man who devoted much time to the acquisition of learning. The " stewpots " were often men of lax fibre, growing learned by the assuetude of study, some with unhealthy faces, some APPEOAOHES. 339 with a smug domestic comfort, some with all the excitability of the " spasmodic school '* of poets. Where is Education ? Where is Culture ? Where is the Man ? Gills was none of these. So much in fact were, amongst the set to which Grills ap- proximated now, the '' idola of the forum" respected that one could have named two or three young men, ambitious enough to wish to succeed at their examinations, and vain enough to covet this peculiar opinion of their fellows, who actually toiled like galley slaves during part of the twenty-four hours that they might be seen in dissipation for the rest. Fabulous stories, consequently, were afloat about them. How Billy Liversidge for instance got through his examinations without doing any work at all, and how little Nippen won an exhibition with only half as much. This latter was a very clever young man, but sallow, with dark rings under his eyes, and that incredible vanity of desiring to be considered a blackguard. There was 340 APPROACHES. sometliing irreproducible in the way in which little Nippen used to give hint of his terrible excesses. " One must be in the swim, you know — half deprecatingly — One must, you know." Stories of these brilliancies wrought on the susceptible mind of Grills. Kithdale Brown to be sure once in a weak moment of con- fidence gave utterance to a theory that had long lain dormant in his mind. Kithdale was a very steady fellow, everybody said, and stripped of its peculiar personal char- acter, Kithdale's theory was somewhat to this effect ; that though facility of acquiring knowledge was a very desirable thing, yet in general the preferring patient study to dis- sipation implied a certain strength of char- acter and superiority of mind. This with Kithdale's peculiar characteristics added had been told by Romanoff with inimitable humour, and had amused Gills' fancy very much. He disseminated the story with much of the humour left out, for he was not a Romanoff, amongst his own cronies, and at APPfiOAOHES. 341 last it came with nearly all the humour left out to the ears of the not-hearing-much- of-t he-outside-world Kithdale himself. That worthy had a colloquy with Gills. He struck home upon Gills in his own peculiar matter of fact way ; and Gills had a remarkably bad quarter of an hour of it. It was generally agreed, however, that his remarks were entirely destitute of humour or indeed of any proper lively appreciation of the summum honum at all. J. R. M. had come down again as "jolly as a sandboy." He was always that, or said so. The ex- chequer was low but the man who had " brought the best brains of all to the shop," the disciple, as he called himself, of Sheridan, was not to be distressed by a trifle like that. His borrowing capacity had reached its limit too with most of his friends, but ^Murray was the great patron of Freshmen, and really Freshmen are a not uninteresting set. On all popular occasions J. R. M. was to the fore. A night at the " Cap and Gown '* 342 APPEOACHES. without J. R. M. — never. But bis devices were inexhaustible. Austin once saw him in his room in most confidential relations with a personage who might not at first have seemed congenial to this quondam lion of the gilded halls, — a tall, brawny, bearded son of toil, to outward look. The son of toil, however, appeared to be zealous for learning, for he was watching with great interest a chemical experiment of Murray's — his range was not wide but he did this one well — pouring two colourless liquids together and by some peculiar witchery pro- ducing a black compound in the tube. The son of toil looked amazed, and Murray smiled mysteriously. What on earth is Murray doing with that fellow ? said Austin laughing heartily. I had no idea of any zeal in Jimmy for getting science to the masses. Lacy laughed too. That man's a fireman ! he explained. Well ? Austin could not see the explana- tion. Well have you noticed that huge butcher APPROACHES. 343 knife looking thing that Murray carries lately slung on to his belt ? Austin certainly had noticed a backwoods- man like weapon but had attributed it, as Murray used to say, '*to eccentricities of medical students." Well can you put two and two together ? Yes, but — "Well then, said Lacy laughing very much, Murray and Eomanoff have made the ac- quaintance of these fellows, and they go round with them to the fires and broach with those weapons the casks of liquor. Jimmy is keeping his protege, with this chemical phenomenon, at once in good humour and appropriate respect. CHAPTER XXX. It was evening — Austin and Lacy were pacing along in a meditative mood and here their steps had brought them towards the city. They met, also pacing along in a meditative mood, Eomanoff, the elegant Langden, and that steadiest of men, Kith- dale Brown. The moon was shining, the night was clear. Away to the south were the city parks stretching out to the sea. The path along which they walked was a secluded one adjoining the Fitzroy Gardens, and the great city was concealed ; there were here no in- timations of its fevered life and turmoil. Beyond far over the intervening lowlands APPROACHES. 345 rose the mansions on the terraced slopes. JS'ear by to the west, on a bank, above its garden, half hidden by its trees and trellises of vines, a little villa was pitched. This turned Langden to musing, and made him think of Spain. Ah, said he, there's a style about those old romances that we don't get nowadays. A Spanish Student ; there is romance about the very name. His guitars, his orange groves, his love adventures, his serenades, his sonnets. There's a sort of pictur- esqueness about the whole affair. Langden's fair features grew sentimental in their look. Yes, continued Lacy, even if you read of them strolling along the open country way, or dipping a crust into the cool spring, or sitting down by the roadside to rest and talk awhile. Really it seemed a very fine idea and Romanoff may even have sighed — we are not sure of this — but Kithdale Brown certainly did. But what the devil are you doing out 346 APPROACHES. to-nigbt, Kithdale ? said Lacy, coming down to nearer things. You're always out. Can't I take one night now and then ? I'm going to have a night about town with Langden here and Eomanoff ! and we're just killing time until then. Oh! Yes, come along with us, said Romanoff we'll go straight down now. Lacy turned to Austin. We'll see you later on, said Austin, and he and Lacy con- tinued their walk. Gradually one of Austin's fits of deep melancholy, or at least deep immersion in thought, fell upon him. Bound- less desires of every kind had been surging in his mind. Had the instincts and earliest predictions of his boyhood been verified he felt that now he must be trimming his sails for a long voyage. A fever of energy, find- ing no congenial outlet, was fretting at his heart and eating up his flesh. His spirits had been exuberant in a thousand directions : desires of knowledge, of work to be done, of APPEOACHES. 347 effort, active and resolute, and the tasting of superior pleasures. And then there was the searching for those peculiar experiences that, whether for the depth of the realities they open up to us, or for the keenness of their pain, or whether for the stirring the fibres of human sympathy and sounding the deep notes of life and death — most of all, then, the searching for those experiences fraught with the mystery of our living here, that once known leave us not the same for ever afterwards, and recur again and again to our memory. ***** It was a little after eleven o'clock when Austin and Lacy met the others again and they entered a room of the vestibule of the Prince of Wales Theatre. The room was a tolerably large one, warm, and fumy and foggy with cigar smoke. In the middle was a bar for serving liquors ; opposite some chairs, and a number of long seats. The walls were hung with mirrors and with pictures, portraits of actresses, prize-fighters^ 348 APPEOACHES. racehorses, and dogs. Romanoff, Langden, Kithdale Brown, Lacy and Austin, stood near the door for a little while and looked. On the chairs and on the forms, sitting, were a score or two of women, and many others of them were walking about, whose characters were plain at a glance. This, said Romanoff in an explanatory sort of way, is the Bourse and here is the high water mark of the wit and beauty of Dudley. There were to be observed in colloquy with these women a good number of young men, and it is possible that Romanoff referred to these for bis " wit." The " little ladies," as Langden always called them, were, most of them, painted, some elaborately. Several had their hair died golden. Some had painted their lips in a sort of Cupid's bow of vermilion. They had their cheeks powdered and plastered with pastes. Rose d' Amour, Bloom of Ninon, or whatever else may have been then in vogue. They had their eyebrows darkened and eye- APPROACHES. 349- lashes and under eyelids pencilled to make their eyes shine out. There was a battery of eyes, they seemed to flash about every- where, some with the brightness of fever. Nearly all wore thick fringes. Yet some were attired neatly, modestly, looking like ladies ; and one girl in light mourning had the face of a nun. The head dresses of most were showy, extravagant, even bizarre. And some of the gowns were remarkable — silk, satin, velvet, blue, cardinal, yellow, or green, with trimmings, furbelows, flounces, and ornaments at all hazards and cost. There was no suggestion here of love sonnets and serenades, and orange groves and the fragrance of the balmy evening air. There was the thick atmosphere of tobacco smoke impregnated with the odour of steam- ing hot drinks, whisky, gin, and brandy and peppermint. Most of the women had good figures. Some were phlegmatic, uncon- cerned, callous, others haggard beneath the powder and paint. The room was hot, foggy, stifling. A fever, a sort of intoxica- 350 APPEOACHES. tion, seemed to be in the air. It was dazzling with all the glare of those eyes. A subtle fume seemed to rise in waves from the floor and poison the blood. I see a little lady, I want to speak to, said the elegant Langden and departed. Lacy smiled, little lady ! I must have a drink. Austin, can you lend me five shillings ? demanded Romanoff. Austin lent it, and Romanoff departed. He also joined into colloquy with a " little lady." You'll never see that five shillings again, Austin, said Kithdale Brown. Austin smiled grimly. There may be other reasons for lending a man five shillings than the hope of seeing it again. That's the famous Linda Langden 's speak- ing to, said Lacy in explanation, and that's Bessie Williams that Romanoff is talking with. They were the two most famous beauties of their day, but they are both going off a good deal. Bessie Williams was apparently about 26 APPEOAOHES. 351 years of age, of fine features, eyes flashing as if in defiance. One belield even then a woman meant by nature for sweetness, tenderness, even self-sacrifice, but with a strange, fear- ful, unutterably sad look beneath it all. Austin gazed at her earnestly and the tears surged to his eyes, but with an effort he forced them back. I saw her when she first came to town, said Lacy. You can see even now in her eye what she was. She tried to poison herself a short time ago — Romanoff wants to make us believe that he was the cause. He was flattering her and they were both laughing very loud. Many an eye was cast upon Langden and Romanoff and many an eye at the group at the door. He departed and remained drinking and talking with May Devine. Kithdale Brown, who had long been uneasy at having missed his usual hour of going to bed, went hastily off, and Austin was left alone near the door. He was about to leave, when suddenly the door burst open and in reeled a couple of 352 APPROACHES. jockeys, one of them a celebrated steeple- chase rider, whom Austin had seen hailed by the plaudits of tens of thousands as he proudly brought in his " winning mount " at Wilming- ton. Why, had not Blashford been compli- mented by royal lips and been presented with a trophy by fair and distinguished hands ? ***** The peculiar excitement seized the spec- tators afresh till it waxed into indescribable disorder. Austin had stood mute, impene- trable, but pale as alabaster. Pooh, said Lacy who rejoined him, facilis decensus Averni, Wait for a year or so and the handsome Bessie Williams will be a scarecrow in the gutters. I've seen it often enough before. Pooh. By Heaven though, that woman was a beauty in her day. Would you like to see anything more ? How deep does it go ? How deep ! It has no depths. This is the bottomless pit. Your Milton and your Dante paint Hell, but the aesthetic distinction and grand omnipresence of the place bolster up APPROACHES. 353 the pride of its sovereign. This cauldron is more like the actuality. Romanoff is a good type of devil. Eomanoff is capable of any deed that doesn't want pluck. . . . Vice, continued Lacy with the air of a man who had meditated these subjects, vice is essen- tially vulgar. It poisons the sweet sap of life. Well, sir, you'll find more classes and grades here than you'll find castes in India. I used to wonder how human beings could fall to what I have seen. . . . And Lacy traced out terrible histories he had known. His words made their deep impression upon him- self. He seemed inexorable, cruel, as he followed the tale to the end. It is but experience, it is inevitable, he insisted. There is no halting place, none, except by accident, merely. From the first wrong step of a foolish country girl you have this descent, — steep, steep. They separated. The air seemed to have reeked poison. Austin had escaped into the starlight. He ran, he walked quickly. He jumped into a bus. He thought he was calm, VOL. I. A A 354 APPROACHES. but the passengers were startled by the look he seemed to dart upon each. He got out of the bus and his wandering brought him to the Gardens again. As though a veil had been rent asunder he saw the fevered workings of an under- world. He had been overwhelmed at first by the depth, the concussion, the tremen- dous scope of thought that had come surging on his mind. Not as individual transgression did he now see wickedness, not the errant chance, merely, nor within the bounds of forbiddance, virtue merely. Beneath the spectacle of life he beheld myriad worlds; beneath all, the multitudinous play of force ; the growth of feeling, passion, will, the development of the intellect, the spiritual struggle for light and guidance; the earth swept round in mysteries. He saw the dim half-conscious struggling up to progress, health, command, the nobler forms of life, exalted hope ; and on the other side, vice, crime, corruption, all whither the enemy leads, ten thousand oafish shapes, APPEOACHES. 355 disease, the cancerous fibres of the body social, the images of the brutehead, these throughout all the vistas of horror, this half world, this Hell, — the rout of Sin, the battue of Death. END OF VOL. I. UNIVERSITY OF ILUNOIS-UBiANA 3 0112 049747600 ^i^^ 4^ ■J'