Among the dregs and offal of mankind, To find the type of him who with a kiss Padre Bandelli is a sort of man Joking apart, whose little round of thought "Twere a strange heaven, indeed, with him left out. Ilim the imagination does not tease With hungry cravings, restless impulses ; In doing over the same things again. How should he know the artist's inward strain, Art he considers as a sort of trade, Like laying bricks: If one can lay a yard In one good hour, how can it be so hard In two good hours, that two yards should be laid? But, Signor Duca, you can apprehend But who can force the spirit to conceive? And hope looks out from the expectant breast- The first young star-half joy, half mystery. The wilful work built by the conscious brain Above the Will, beyond the conscious eye, Darkness and sunshine; and then, pushing forth From hand to spirit must the human chain A higher power that shapes our thoughts, and sways Mere soundless pipes--despite our vaunted skill-- Oh Signor Duca, as the woman bears Soon the narcissus flowers and dies, but slow Therefore I wait. Within my earnest thought But, not to be more tedious, I confess W. W. S. CHRONICLES OF CARLINGFORD: THE PERPETUAL CURATE. PART XIII.-CHAPTER IL. "Now, Mr. Wodehouse," said theory, nor in our own opinion. Jack Wentworth, "it appears that The fact accordingly is, my friend, you and I have a word to say to each that you must choose between us other." They had all risen when and those respectable meannesses the other gentlemen followed Mr. of yours. By Jove! the fellow Morgan out of the room, and those ought to have been a shopkeeper, who remained stood in a group and as honest as-Diogenes," said surrounding the unhappy culprit, Jack. He stood looking at his and renewing his impression of wretched associate with the overpersonal danger. When he heard whelming impertinence of a perhimself thus addressed, he backed fectly well-bred man, no way conagainst the wall and instinctively took one of the chairs and placed it before him. His furtive eye sought the door and the window, investigating the chances of escape. When he saw that there was none, he withdrew still a step farther back, and stood at bay, "By Jove! I ain't going to stand all this," said Wodehouse; "as if every fellow had a right to bully me -it's more than flesh and blood can put up with. I don't care for that old fogie that's gone up-stairs; but, by Jove! I won't stand any more from men that eat my dinners, and win my money, and Jack Wentworth made half a step forward with a superb smile "My good fellow, you should never reproach a man with his good actions," he said; "but at the same time, having eaten your dinner, as you describe, I have a certain claim on your gratitude. We have had some -a business connection for some years. I don't say you have reason to be actually grateful for that; but, at least, it brought you now and then into the society of gentlemen. A man who robs a set of women, and leaves the poor creature he has ruined destitute, is a sort of cur we have nothing to say to," said the heir of the Wentworths contemptuously. "We do not pretend to be saints, but we are not blackguards; that is to say," said Jack, with a perfectly calm and harmonious smile, "not in cealing the contemptuous inspection with which his cool eyes travelled over the disconcerted figure from top to toe, seeing and exaggerating all its tremors and clumsy guiltiness. The chances are, had Jack Wentworth been in Wodehouse's place, he would have been master of the position as much as now. He was not shocked nor indignant like his brothers. He was simply contemptuous, disdainful, not so much of the wickedness as of the clumsy and shabby fashion in which it had been accomplished, As for the offender, who had been defiant in his sulky fashion up to this moment, his courage oozed out at his finger-ends under Jack Wentworth's eye. "I am my own master," he stammered, "nowadays. I ain't to be dictated to and I shan't be, by Jove! As for Jack Wentworth, he's well known to be neither more nor less-" "Than what, Mr. Wodehouse ?" said the serene and splendid Jack. "Don't interest yourself on my account, Frank. This is my business at present. If you have any prayermeetings in hand we can spare you and don't forget our respectable friend in your supplications. Favour us with your definition of Jack Wentworth, Mr. Woden.ouse, He is neither more nor less??? "By Jove! I ain't going to stand it," cried Wodehouse; "if a fellow's to be driven mad, and insulted, you have wronged, Jack, I command you to let him go." and have his money won from him, have the means of escape. Go now and made game of-not to say and leave them," said the man who tossed about as I've been among 'em, was a priest by nature. The light and made a drudge of and set returned to his eye while he spoke; to do the dirty work," said the un- he was no longer passive, contemfortunate subordinate, with a touch plating his own moral death; his of pathos in his hoarse voice;-"I natural office had come back to don't mean to say I've been what I him unawares. He stretched his ought; but, by Jove! to be put arm towards the door, thinking of upon as I've been, and knocked nothing but the escape of the sinabout; and at the last they haven't ner. Go," said Gerald. "Refuse the pluck to stand by a fellow, by their approbation; shun their soJove!" muttered Mr. Wodehouse's ciety. For Christ's sake, and not unlucky heir. What further ex- for theirs, make amends to those asperation his smiling superior was about to heap upon him, nobody could tell; for just as Jack Wentworth was about to speak. and just as Wodehouse had again faced towards him, half-cowed, half-resisting, Gerald, who had been looking on in silence, came for- by Gerald's side, whistling under ward out of the shadow. He had seen all and heard all, from that moral death-bed of his, where no personal cares could again disturb him; and though he had resigned his office, he could not belie his nature. He came in by instinct to cherish the dawn of compunction which appeared, as he thought, in the sinner's words. "The best thing that can happen to you," said Gerald, at the sound of whose voice everybody started, "is to find out that the wages of sin are bitter. Don't expect any sympathy or consolation from those who have helped you to do wrong. My brother tries to induce you to do a right act from an unworthy motive. He says your former associates will not acknowledge you. My advice to you is to forsake your former associates. My brother," said Gerald, turning aside to look at him, "would do himself honour if he forsook them also-but for you, here is your opportunity. You have no temptation of poverty now. Take the first step, and forsake them. I have no motive in advis ing you-except indeed, that I am Jack Wentworth's brother. He and you are different," said Gerald, involuntarily glancing from one to the other. "And at present you Jack, who had been startled at first, had recovered himself long before his brother ceased to speak. "Let him go, by all means," he said, and stood superbly indifferent his breath a tripping lively air. "No occasion for solemnity. The sooner he goes the better," said Jack. "In short, I see no reason why any of us should stay, now the business is accomplished. I wonder would his reverence ever forgive me if I lighted my cigar?" He took out his case as he spoke, and began to look over its contents. There was one in the room, however, who was better acquainted with the indications of Jack Wentworth's face than either of his brothers. This unfortunate, who was hanging in an agony of uncertainty over the chair he had placed before him, watched every movement of his leader's face with the anxious gaze of a lover, hoping to see a little corresponding anxiety in it, but watched in vain. Wodehouse had been going through a fever of doubt and divided impulses. The shabby fellow was open to good impressions, through he was not much in the way of practising them, and Gerald's address, which, in the first place, filled him with awe, moved him afterwards with passing thrills of compunction, mingled with a kind of delight at the idea of getting free. When his admonitor said "Go," Wodehouse made a step towards the door, and for an instant. |