dismal messengers they have dismissed to English homes with hopeless news. No, their wretched alms, which they are forced to pay, is no compensation for this wholesale pillage."
I spoke warmly, and the dean looked at me with distrust. "That is all very good and sound, and we are all agreed, of course: but we must take things as we find 'em. These people found out the wells here, and worked 'em, and developed 'em. If I was inclined to a little sophistry or casuistry, Mr. Austen, I would ask you, wouldn't the myriads of rheumatic and dyspeptic fathers whom they have restored to health—the thousands of wasting daughters to whose cheeks the what-d'ye-call-'em—Le Wheez'un"—so he pronounced it—"Well has brought back colour; the number of homes it has made happy! Is not all this a sort of compensation for the weak-minded, demoralised gambler, whom they justly punish? And serve 'em right too. Now, Mr. Austen."
"That's putting it very well, dean," said the member, laughing; "and, if I don't mistake, Mr. Austen has benefited amazingly himself by the gambling waters."
"Oh, no," said the dean, "there is too much cant about all this. There, we must take them as we find 'em. My stockbroker, worthy man, gives money to schools, holds plates, and all that—but he gambles on the Exchange, and wins; and who does he win from? From some one who has, perhaps, lost his all. He made a hundred thousand pounds in Italian stock the other day. Some poor wretch sold in the panic, and was destroyed. Well. He bought his stock. Look at the merchants. Look at Lord ——, who made the last bishop, why he games on the turf. My good sir, if we're to go about setting right everything we see or think wrong, why the world might as well stop. We might all shut up. We must give and take."
I was indignant to hear such indifference from one in his sacred position—no heart, no earnestness—and I answered, warmly: "But, Mr. Dean, when we see this place crowded with holy—I mean with officially holy—men, is there not something more expected than giving and taking? What do we hear? Not a word, not a protest, not a denunciation of the wickedness going on about us; no thunderings from the pulpit. I cannot understand it. Surely, if we could suppose a Whitfield, or a Wesley, or a Knox, or a Luther were found here——"
"Heaven forbid!" said the member of parliament. "The place would get too hot for me! Come, we have had enough of this wine and of the Shepherdess; and to show that I quite approve of the dean's good sense, I am going up to the gambling-rooms now, to try what can be done with a napoleon."
As we went out the dean spoke to me very testily, as if he were sore and wincing under my thrust.
"You are a little too highflying, my friend," he said, "and not exactly cut out for a reformer. Believe me there is no harm in following the general consensus of leading men. You see all the distinguished personages here, lay and clerical, neither protest nor approve. They go their own way. Joshua was the only one who succeeded in stopping the sun. Above all, let us look at home, and keep a guard over ourselves. While you are busy giving directions, and helping the old ladies across the street, saving them from the omnibuses, you yourself may be run over."
And these are the pastors for the poor sheep of England; smooth words to make everything comfortable, and macadamise the road to salvation. This man is sure to be a bishop. Well, I shall say no more after this. He has taken no notice of me since.
Chapter XII.
Monday the sixth.—The more I look about me in this strange world, and certainly in this strangest of places, the more do I feel that it is good for me morally to be here. For my weak but well meaning soul, it has the effect of bracing, nerving, cold water. I shall return home strengthened and invigorated. I am not at all sorry to have passed by these furnaces without being scorched. The man who shuts himself up, and turns away his eyes, is discreet, and if he knows himself to be weak all is right. Nay, a greater authority than I has written, he is bound to gird himself up and flee as fast as his poor tottering limbs can carry him. If I were a clergyman—a supposition I very often make, and there was some talk of it when I was a boy—I would ascend my pulpit, and preach eternally on this text. If you feel a spark of courage and strength, face the danger cautiously, practise, do as a man does who goes to a gymnasium and trains his muscles—begin to throw a half stone weight, and increases the amount by degrees. I would thunder this at the congregation until they began to think it was
